Rambling Post Stretching Over Several Days...

I get off work! I get my weekend.

We are going shopping today and I am SO dressing up. I pincurled my hair, I am going to do my makeup, I have a dark outfit all picked out.... I don't mind wearing the uniform - I really don't. But I get SO bored of not being able to express myself. No fandom things, no religious things...... It's boring. The rules make sense though, thankfully; otherwise I would really be in trouble. So! I'll settle for goign and picking up my paycheck all decked out.

Which reminds me of  a question! Why can't we talk about how much we get paid? What is the point of that? What does it matter? Why is it impolite to talk about our paychecks? It isn't in my Post Etiquette book - which is for women from the fifties, I will grant.... - so....answers? please? Because that rule doesn't make any sense. Unless ones employer is being unjust, it should make no difference if we discuss our paychecks.

I want to do something for Christmas.

Well, no - what I actually want to do is forget about all of it and skip the whole holiday, but....yeah. I can't. So. I want to do something.

Except it is on my weekend which means I don't want to do anything and I just want to recoup for the next work week.

I really do like the work though. I think I am getting better at what I have been taught because I don't get nearly as nervous and I don't feel sick anymore, and my feet aren't in agonising pain anymore!!! I still might get some arch supports - I don't know.


So! This is coming out! I'm not sure what I think about it, honestly. I love musicals, and the other one Jackman was in wasn't half bad; but....this could either be really cool or really bad. I'm not sure yet.

Irregradless, I am going to go see it. Sometime. whenever my schedule allows. Maybe next Tuesday..... Actually, it would probably be better to watch it on the Sunday after next in the evening showing. I should try for that....

Anyway! Moving on.... To what, I don't know - but I am.

So adulting sucks. Is this news to anyone? If it is, sorry for the spoiler alert. Guess what! Life only gets worse. It's hard. It's icky. it's a mess. It's painful. And you know what? It's worth it. It is SO worth it. It's exciting. It's happy. It's....it is worth the fight. It really is.

You just have to remember that on the bad days.

Like when you're sick in misery and have to call in sick for work. Sorry, NOT what I wanted to do. I need the money!!!! Especially as we're going into the dead months where no money comes in..... Figures.

On a funny side note: Les Miserables is SUCH an overdramatic film! I mean, seriously! Javert and Valjean are.....drama queens! Maybe putting on a musical while two sick people sleep through it isn't the best idea really... But we did have fun mocking the dramatics of the two characters. And everyone else really.

I'm not sure if this blog is worth the work, really... I mean, what is the point? Is this really doing any good? No one reads this - I might as well just write in my journal. Except I never write in that either now....

But at least in my journal I don't have to censor since I really am the only audience.

I don't know quite what to do. Logic tells me that I have to open up to people, I have to learn to...trust.

But I can't. I think everyone is laughing at me behind my back - I expect everyone hates me when they are not in front of my face. I believe nothing anyone says - I am convinced that they are just putting up with me. i am convinced that I am infuriating and hurting them and they cannot wait to be rid of me.

And no matter how many times I apologise, no matter how many times they tell me it isn't true, I can't stop thinking it. I am terrifed I am driving everyone away, but I really deserve to do so.....

I don't know what to do.


Merry Christmas!

So yes, this post covers about a week, my apologies.... I needed to get rid of these drafts, and decided to just lump them all together.

Christmas..... No family, no siblings, nothing I am used to or look forward to, no biscuits and gravy, no lasagna, no Christmas Carol..... In fact, we were all sick.

I got to go to Mass though! and then got invited to a Christmas dinner with a few of the other parishoners, and got to discuss fashion, so I actually did have fun; but....

I realised something. Yeah, sure, Jesus is the Reason for the Season but....not really. there is nothing that ties him to it. Everything is all tied in family and decorations - nothing is deeper. For all that we talk about Jesus being the meaning for Christmas...there is nothing that tied him to it. Once I lost my traditions, my family, the day became meaningless.

It was awful, and I want to fix it now.

I haven't a clue as to how.

So yay! More things about myself I need to fix. Lovely.

Premonitions

So we're watching Stargate: Atlantis.

Apparently, a seven or eight year break is enough to at least make it interesting enough, but not nearly enough to actually forget the show. I remember every episode and I really hate it sometimes. I would just like to be surprised again - not remember everything that's going on.

Back to point, I'm sitting here watching "The Storm" and "The Eye" and remembering some of the first fanfictions I ever read. Sitting here, bored, I looked up one.

Oh, young, innocent, thirteen year old self who barely understood tags and looked up a story about cutting and utterly missed the point of the story.

I mean, all I remembered of the story was McKay had a bad reaction to dealing with a pathetic attempt at torture in one episode (like, seriously. The cut was maybe three inches long and barely a gash: it was pathetic. He only suffered pain - no other side effects.) and basically suffered PTSD. A fun hurt/comfort story for a main character, right? Nothing too demanding, right? Normal story for fanfiction, and actually surprisingly clean. a good story to read to finish up the loose ends of the episode arc that was actually well done.

And then I read it and find out it's actually about a severely depressed character who cuts more and more - first as punishment and then as a desperate attempt to cope. Suddenly, it's an incredibly deep story, and an utterly different story than what I read when i was thirteen.

Thirteen year old me: how did you miss that? How could you have been so innocent to completely miss that McKay was cutting himself? How did you miss that he was scarring himself so much that he covered his arms and legs and stomach? How did you miss that? How did you miss that it wasn't PTSD - how did you think that it was just that night, and the original canonical injury was still bleeding all over the place when Sheppherd found him? How did you miss....everything.

Thirteen year old me: when did you change? When did you lose your innocence? When did you grow up? Where did you go - how did I lose you?

Now I have scars of my own. Now I intimately understand the dark nights alone when no one is there to hold you or help you know what is real. Now I know the feeling of not feeling the pain. Now I know what it is to know full well every fault you have - to deserve the pain and anger others direct at you.

"I'm a failure and far too arrogant to have friends. It was only a matter of time before you all realized it." He seemed so resigned to the fact that this was all going to happen eventually.

Oh, how true that is. I am so arrogant - so messed up. I am destroying every relationship I am in. I am a whiny brat - I am a monster. I am.....I am all I tell my friends they are not. I am cruel, I am broken. I desperately just want to rest - I just want a chance.....

I cannot ask for it. No one will give it to me.

What is someone supposed to say in this situation? I'm sorry? Why would you do this? Was it really so bad that you had to resort to hurting yourself?

I just....I don't want words. I don't want answers. I have answers. I want help. I want support.

I don't want to hurt anyone. Every time I open up to someone, I hurt them.

I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am sorry for everything - for every hurt, for every tear. I just want to make things right. I just want to fix everything. I want to shove everyone away until I can't hurt anyone. I don't really matter - I am not that important. I can deal with the pain I have - I can live with it. No one else should have to. It is not right that I ask anyone else to. I should be left alone - I deserve to be. No one should feel guilty about hurting me, about leaving me. I deserve it.

Thirteen year old self, you're in for hell; and you're going to visit it on others just as much as you bring it on yourself. Enjoy your fanfiction - some day you'll realise what you became.

This Is Getting to be a Habit...

Because apparently I don't have enough fodder for a happy blog post...here is another self-pitying rant that I really shouldn't be indulging in - but why the heck not?

Yes, this blog post is mentally written with an R rating for Language, but I will keep this blog at least generally clean. Excepting violence of course.... *smiles*

I want to scream. I want to scream at everyone - make them break. I want to make them feel what I am feeling. I want to lash out and hurt them - I want to hurt myself. I.... I feel nothing, I feel everything. I feel angry, because I feel nothing and I can't....

I know this too well. I know what this is - I know where this goes. I know these lies, but I can't resist this. I am drowning here, slipping away, losing everything, and I can't pull myself back. I need help, but it is like no one even sees or cares. "It's alright." "You just need to lighten up." "I'm trying so hard!" "I have to try to read you!" "Life is hard."

yeah. I know. Trust me. I know. I know it is alright. I know I need to lighten up. I know you're trying. I know you aren't trying to hurt me. I know life is hard. I know I'm a mess. I know, I know, I know, I know.....

I don't know how to heal. I cannot lighten up - I don't think you understand. I can't have fun. I can't lose my dignity. I can't lose. I know this is all a lie, I know this is all in my head, but you know what? I know that bloody well doesn't matter. Just because this is all a hell invented for me by my messed up head doesn't make the struggle any less real, doesn't make the isolation any less real.

So I want to lash out. I want to turn everyone else's perfect world into the hell I feel inside. I want to break them - I want to tear apart everything they hold dear, and what kind of monster am I for that?? What sort of messed up creature am I that hates other people because they are happy?

Why can't I heal? Why can't I just be better?

This is a pity party. But at the same time, it isn't. I want help, but it's all so stupid.

It's all so pointless.

Lighten up, they say. You're chasing everyone away, they say. You have to let things close - you have to love, they say.

You know what, honey? I know. I know. I know and it is killing me and I don't know how to fix this. I let myself relax after I moved out - I let myself be safe, and you know what happened? Every relationship I valued suffered. Now I am trying to pull back - to go back to what worked, and it isn't working yet. Nothing is working. Now I am terrified. I moved out to heal, to actually live. What if in the process, I lose all that was good? What if I destroy all that helped me?

I would rather die than do that, and I am not exaggerating. I am not more important than all of my friends - my family. if my healing comes at their cost? I don't think I want it. I don't think it's worth it.

Tell me it is alright. Tell me it will work out. Tell me this is all in my head. Tell me you are there for me. Tell me you love me. Tell me I can do this. Tell me this is worth it.

Tell me everything and tell me nothing, because I'm not worth it. It can't make a difference. No one can see the cliff I am falling off of - even I can't - so how is anyone supposed to save me from it?

I just want to live. I just....I want to live.

EDIT

I found this song.....

Do. Not. Read. If read, you are on your own....

I am so tired. I feel like I am just destroying everything around me. I feel like everything I do is just hurting everyone. I don't know what everyone is thinking - I can't believe anyone when they say it's okay. I can't believe anyone when they say they don't hate me. I can't believe anyone when they say they want to still be friends. And I don't even know why.  I don't know what is wrong, but I can't trust anyone. I can't trust myself - I cannot believe that I am not hurting them.

And I know I am hurting them by not being able to trust them.

What can I do?

My first reaction is to hide it - to pretend everything is alright. But what am I supposed to do with that?? When they hurt me, am I supposed to just ignore it? What am I supposed to do - just roll over and take it? Why do I have to be careful of their feelings? Why do I have to be careful of them? Why do I not matter? Why are my feelings unimportant? Why am I unimportant?

Why don't I matter? why am I not allowed to hurt? Why am I just....

I thought it was alright. I thought that maybe it would be alright. Now I know it was all a lie and it just..... I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix any of this. I just want to pretend - to wear a mask and make them feel good.

I feel like that's what they want me to do. I feel like they want an apology for all that I am. But I know that's not what they want, so I don't know how to give them what they want. I don't know what to do...

Someone told me to write a letter. I probably shouldn't post this here. But it isn't like much people read this anyway. that's a good thing.

i just want to be safe. I just want to be held. I just want to forget everything - to take a break. I want....

I want to stop overthinking. I want to stop worrying. I want to trust. I want to love. I want to laugh. I want to be happy. i don't want to read into every tiny bit of anything anyone says or does in realation to myself. I want to be able to plan. I want to not panic. I want to....

I want to know who I am. I want to be myself. I don't know anything about myself though..... I just want....

i want something, but I don't know what I want. I want help.

Just Regain Your Sensitivity!

I got a new laptop! Well, old laptop that finally got fixed. No Windows on it - I've got Ubuntu on it. It works well. New operating system to learn though - and good grief was Chrome hard to install!

But it's working, and so far I'm liking it as much if not better than Windows. Problems: I can't play my PC games!! *Sighs* Always a catch....

Someone asked me recently why I don't retrain myself. We were talking about my taste in movies, how I was corrupted from a very young age (read: two) and really don't have the best taste in movies. My standards are really low on content, as long as the plot is really good. It makes it hard to recommend films and shows to others since usually it means that most of my friends can't watch the stuff I do. Irritating.

But a friend and I were talking, and she asked why I don't just....stop watching bad content. Why don't I regain my sensitivity.

My immediate answer was that I still want to watch something, and there is a serious lack of quality content in the world; but I was thinking about it. It's really not that at all. I probably will go through my tastes again at some point and correct them, but right now? The reason I don't correct myself there is because I have too many other things to fix. I can't do everything, so i focus on what is important first. Right now, I need to stop cutting, and I need to deal with and heal from my abuse. I need to learn to not be abusive myself. I need to learn how to have healthy relationships.

After that? Movies isn't that important. I can work on that later. I can't fix everything at once - I'm not perfect, and that would be counterproductive anyway as the failure to be perfect and fixed would send me into severe depression again. Well, more severe at least.

I don't know  how to explain it. There is so much wrong with me, so much that I need to fix. I know my own flaws, and I probably invent even more of them to worry about them. I can see nothing good in myself, and recently I found out that the few good things I knew were actually little better than poison. So I focus on what I can. Little pieces. Baby steps. One step at a time, and I can get over the mountain. If I look at the mountain itself? I will have a panic attack. Again.

My depression itself is mountain enough. I don't know if or how I will ever scale it. It has always been there with me - I don't even know what I would be without it. I can't fix everything - I can't even look at everything.

And I don't want to bother anyone. *smiles* At least we've got that down pat.

I did have some help with learning myself the other day. I do like helping people - I love it. I love children. I love learning.

The question of course then is: how can I use those for life besides motherhood?

I found something out this morning. Apparently, a simplistic definition of depression is 'anger turned inwards on oneself'. Simple, but true. Even if the cause of anger is the depression in the first place, usually depression leads to be angry with oneself.

Or at least in all of the cases I know.

How do you deal with it? It's easy to recognise the suicidal depression - that's obvious. When you're suicidal, you know you're depressed. If you're just depressed? Then you don't want to bother anyone - you don't want to be weak. You know you shouldn't be so weak. You have to be better - you have to take care of yourself. You don't have a reason to be feeling bad, to be lonely or guilty. You are sitting there in yourself and you hate that you are doing this, but....

It's a vicious cycle and it's so hard to even see it when you're stuck in it.

and then when you finally learn to take time for yourself? Then you're wallowing and having a pity party and you're a terrible person and how dare you do what it takes to keep yourself somewhat sane?

How does one explain it? How does one heal but not hurt everyone around you that cares about you?

And the Adulting Fun Continues....

Or the panic attacks. Mostly the panic attacks. I have panic attacks! I am so sick of this!!

Annnnnnd......I am writing this on Internet Explorer so surprise! I can't get pictures for this unless I want to download them all and then upload them and frankly that's too much work. And this still isn't my computer.

So! Moving on.

Also, her internet is restricted and now I can't get Clamavi de Profundis and I have found something else to complain about. What - is it too Latin and Tolkien??? ....TEASING!!!!!! I don't care, I've got my MP3 thankfully.

Or not because of the reasons for which I HVE the bloody thing of course.

I am so tired. I am so sick of this, so tired of trying to .... you know what? JUST ONCE I WOULD LIKE TO MOVE OUT WITHOUT HAVING TO BURN ALL BRIDGES BEHIND ME!!! Just once. Is that possible? I sure wouldn't know - it hasn't happened yet.

I moved. Again. Of which everyone knows and no is really reading this anyway sooooo....why do I keep doing this?

Right. Therapist's orders.

I might be in a venomous mood. Slightly.

And I got a job. Let's not forget that! I got a job. At McDonalds, for those who are curious (no one). Actually, I like it so far. I've only worked two days, but I liked it. I like the work and the clear expectations and duties, and the managers and other coworkers are nice as far as I can tell. Certain someone cynically reminds me it's a terrible place to work, but you know what? I don't bloody well care. I need experience, and that is what this is.

Surprisingly, I have a LOT of clothes and books.... Like...a LOT. Too much probably. But almost all of my stuff fills a living room, and is mostly clothes and books.

And I hate it. Because of what I have given up - because of what I had to leave behind. I don't have a family. this is Thanksgiving, right? It's supposed to be a time for families! I am here with a family that is splitting into factions, and I don't have a family any more!!!!!!

I don't have a family. My dad will never be able to forgive me unless he changes, and my mom will never love me enough to even see me unless something changes. My sister - the one I did all of this for - might never come to me. My brother is scared to lose my sister too, and I long to be able to tell him I am here for him too. The two youngest are too old to forget me, but can they forgive me? Can any of them forgive me? What am I to them? Will I ever see them again? Can we ever heal? I miss them. I miss them so much. I miss them and.... and there is nothing I can do about it. I made this choice and I cannot - will not - undo it. This was right. I know it is.

But I am sick of it. I wouldn't go back. I would never undo this. But I want a break. I am tired of this fight. I can't keep going - it feels as though there isn't a point.... I feel so alone, as if I am the only one fighting this battle; and I can't even see what it is that I'm fighting. Others can hand me the weapons, but no one can help me fight - no one can even tell me where to aim. I have to make decisions, and it feels as if everyone one I make just makes everything worse.

This is a battle I chose to fight - this is a battle I want to fight. But I don't have my reasons with me. My siblings are there, I know they still are - but will they even know what I did? Why I did it? I am the eldest, it is my job to be the guinea pig, to test the ice to make sure it is solid. I show them the safe path - I keep them from making the mistakes I did. I get the experience so they don't have to fall like I did. That's why I did this - that's why I....That is what makes this worth it.

It will be worth it. I will keep going and I will keep fighting and some day I will get through this. I will reach a point where I can look back and say I've won. I can't imagine how I will have healed or how I will have scarred by the time I reach that point; but I will get there some day. I will not give in. I will not give up. This is not the end. I am not alone. This is worth it. I can do this.

I just have to take each day at a time, just keep going. A war is impossible, but a single step isn't. I just can't give up. I can't surrender. I just have to keep going. Recovery isn't a straight line and I've already survived the abuse. I will survive the recovery as well. I will do this.

I have to. If not for myself, than for those who come after me. For my brothers and sisters who will need family. I will go through exile alone so they never have to. I will make mistakes and relapse so I can help them. I will be alone so I can be there for them.

And this isn't as bad as I think it is anyway, I know. It's probably worse.

But I will survive. I will do more than survive: I will live.

Also? I found a new word for what the numbness of depression is like: Novocain. The simile wouldn't have occurred to me because I've never been to the dentist, but someone else used it for themself, and it fits too well.

Stand My Ground

I can see
When you stay low nothing happens
Does it feel right?

Late at night
Things I thought I put behind me
Haunt my mind

I just know there's no escape
Now once it sets its eyes on you
But I won't run,
Have to stare it in the eye

It's all around
Getting stronger, coming closer
Into my world

I can feel
That it's time for me to face it
Can I take it?

Though this might just be the ending
Of the life I held so dear
But I won't run,
There's no turning back from here

All I know for sure is I'm trying
I will always stand my ground

Stand my ground, I won't give in (I won't give in)
I won't give up (I won't give up)
no more denying, I got to face it
won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside
if I don't make it, someone else will
stand my ground

2015 - Lord of the Rings Blog Party - Day Five

This is the last of the Blog Party repostings from 2015. Now all of my posts are on this blog - thank you so much for your patience!

Free Day

Endorenna Utulien


The Valar, the Eldar, the Children of Men
Look back on a tale that's lost to all ken.
Their's is the lot to both learn and forget -
The wise men and jesters caught in the same net,
In a world, in a place that seems so much the same -
Similarities live only in name,
For some things as others often do appear:
The reason and stories lost to all who hear.


Riding in shadow, the Men of the West
Strive to protect life without thought of rest.
They are shunned by the ones for which they risk their lives -
Looking in on a world which unders their shield thrives.
From out of these shadows, a hope shall appear -
The healer, renewer, who banishes fear;
With a touch of his hands and the strength of his soul,
The King shall renew the life of his role.


Mounted on horses, on the wings of the wind,
The Rohirrim fight to redeem those who have sinned;
To strangle the poison that's filling their halls
To ride out en force to answer ancient calls.
Rustic and simple, with a strength that defies
The entangling darkness of Saruman's lies -
Simple in beauty, riding in with the dawn;
With a cloak made of starlight, the witch-slayer is gone.


Surrounded in comfort, ignorant of the night;
Of the fear that surrounds them - untouched by the fight
Waging outside their gardens, encroaching on their land;
Borne in amongst them by an unchanging hand.
The children of joy, dancing through spring;
Heedless of sorrow - of all evil things.
Yet winter shall come with destructive roar,
And the Shire that existed shall be seen no more.


Severe, wrapped in silver, and carved out of stone -
The city faces Mordor; it stands alone.
It waits for the Light to return to it's walls,
And weeps for the murder planned in its halls -
Brother against brother, and friend against friend:
The pull of the Stone will be everyone's end.
The fires are come and the city is lost -
'Though the battle be one, it comes at great cost.


The leaves sigh in passing as they fall to the ground -
The Wise fall in shadow, leaving no sound.
Will they stand by their allies that were long left behind?
Can they stand by in silence - can they truly be blind?
Majesty and sorrow meet in a war -
Their time is over; they are no more.
Mortals will watch as the First start to fade -
A promise is kept, and the price has been paid.


The Valar, the Eldar, and the Greatest of Men
Have shone for their moment and passed out of ken.
The Rings made in secret and the Ring made of gold
Have all long since fallen - their legend is old.
Is it all just a legend, are these lords none but tales?
Can we not walk amongst them over green hills and dales?
'Though all may have passed into myth and fantasy -
Yet these lives shall live on in words and memory.




Reflections at Mirrors


"May you have joy when you look on
The glass of Mirrormere."
But nevermore joy shall I know
For many years from here.


Oh Khazad-Dum, thou cursed thing
That stole our richest gem!
Thou thing of fire, night and death;
Unfit to touch his hem.


In Dwarrowdelf, we looked in awe
At mighty halls of stone.
He rose and sang of Durin's mirror;
The echoes fled, alone.


It is a tomb, Daeron's runes...
He read what the book said.
"Balin, the Lord of Moria,
Doth now lie here, dead.


"We cannot get out, they've taken the bridge
That's in the second hall.
We cannot get out, they are coming..."
How long until we fall?


'Ghash' means fire, what do they mean?
I feel it's getting hot.
He'll stay there to face the shadow,
But you and I cannot.


Oh Khazad-Dum, treacherous bridge;
You lead him to his death.
Oh Balrog fierce, whose whip was doom,
He wasted not his breath!


Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim;
Gandalf, the Wanderer.
Swift to anger, but ever kind;
The hidden conjurer.


You bid me have joy when I gazed
Upon fair Mirrormere;
But in the halls of Moria
My joy was stolen, I fear.

Hatanyel orenyallo! Namárië!