The Haunting Time Is Coming Near!

The Ghoullog - Mountaintop Haunt at Cranmore, North Conway, NH

Positive Reinforcement is Hard to Find

It's hard.
I haven't been posting, because I haven't been positive or happy. It's par for the course currently... I have a few good days, and the rest... Just sort of blend together and meld, and I don't know how time flies past so damn quickly. But everything mushes together, and days become weeks I've missed. Months I've missed.

It's depressing to think I've spent the past 14 months in this leather recliner. It's depressing to think about the amount of money spent on medications which take the edge off my pain most days, but never really makes it go away. It's depressing knowing I have to depend and rely on others for my survival. It's depressing to not have control of my body the way I want to. I'm not going to lie. Depression is a hard burden to carry. It's heavy, it's lingering, it's there. Looming like a shadow, the proverbial gray rain cloud that's been following me. And it sucks. I think of it very much like one of those Dementor things in Harry Potter- depression sucks the life, the happiness, the joy, the interest out of everything. It's a black hole that sucks everything into it, stretching out its tendrils to reach every possible corner of your mind in an attempt to overtake it and control it with insidious wickedness and thoughts that aren't mine. Not really, but somehow end up in my mind. Things I wouldn't otherwise think of- never giving it a second to enter my mind. But there it sits, it simmers, and I refuse to look it in the face. I don't want that ugliness, that desperation to ever surface. Let me make this clear- I'm not suicidal. I can't say I haven't had thoughts though. Nothing serious, nothing I'd follow through with or even attempt to act out... I'd hurt too many people if I left. Besides, with all the courage I hold- suicide is not an option I'd ever entertain seriously. Ever.

I've been fighting it. One hell of a fight indeed. I know and am aware I don't have the motivation to be up and about like I used to. Not being able to work has been a big hit to my ego, not to mention the social interactions I miss because of it. Good, bad, awful, indifferent- I don't care. One one hand, I miss interacting with people. Yet at the same time- I absolutely despise it. Most days I don't want to put my face on, I don't want to force the smile, pretend I'm alright. I'm not. People piss me off these days. I have absolutely no patience for the rude asshats I see out and about, and if someone acts like a moron I have no qualms about saying such. Most are shocked when I comment, and have no reaction because nobody dares say anything to anyone these days. I walk away while they look like dumb animals with mouths wide open ready to catch flies. I like the shock value. That almost makes it worth going out and trying to hide how disgusted with myself I am. I try to disguise it with my online alter-ego. It's easy to see days I'm not putting much effort into being happy.

It shows in the lack of blog posts. The lack of status updates. The lack of communicating with friends. The lack of me not picking up my phone when calls come in, not answering texts, not responding. I don't throw the towel in on days like that- I just procrastinate procrastinating. It can all be done later. It can wait. It doesn't have to be done right now. Why bother? What's the difference? Nobody cares. Those are my thoughts.

I'm a Total Moron (cussing post)

An epically stupid thing happened a little while ago.
And be forewarned, I cuss a bit in this rant.

What you know: we now have 5 cats.
Mitts died two weeks ago. I miss him so much... But we'll have him back home soon and buried in his favorite spot in the garden.
Ratcat is somewhere hovering around, being paranoid.
Balls, well he's been taking off for days for some reason, and comes home when he feels like it. We're not entirely sure right now if he's inside, or out. Guess we'll find out when it's breakfast time.
Hobbes, was left in the kitchen on his leash for a while tonight. (I'll give an explanation in a moment)
Peeps, has been leashed but around me all day today.
Little Dude (Hobbes and Peeps son), has been hanging out. Luckily, he has no idea what a female cat in heat means, and he's not yet old enough to understand. Thankfully. Yes, he'll be fixed soon.

Problem: I didn't know Hobbes was in the kitchen.
Problem: Peeps is in heat.
Epically Stupid moment: I brought Peeps over to eat, not seeing Hobbes or his leash.

Positive Thinking

I'm working on it.
The Happiness Project, as my friend Ber has introduced it... An ongoing attempt to make each day better than the last. To see myself differently than I do now. How is that? Well... I typically don't talk about myself in terms of feelings. Sure, I tell you how my body feels day to day, many of you know that much at least. But as for mentally? I kind of keep that buried and hidden as best I can, for fear that someone will see just how broken I am. Or at least, how broken I perceive myself to be.

I'm writing this early today, before I have time to really think and mull over what I should exclude, in terms of writing a sanitized post. I don't want it to be fluff. I want it to be raw, bare, and exactly as it's coming out of my brain at the moment. The meds have kicked in, and I'm fuzzy... But determined to get at least something positive out today.

I'm noticing things I do, and how they're not constructive to me as who I am.
I don't take compliments very well. I either brush them off, or flat out deny it. Why do I do this? I'm honestly not really sure. Maybe it's because I feel like I'm vain if I agree I'm beautiful. I simply say I'm pretty. I feel like someone is not really being truthful when they tell me I'm gorgeous. Again, I only think I'm pretty. I'm not skinny, I'm no longer considered "fat". I could stand to lose more weight- but for right now, I've lost 70lbs. I'm considerably lighter than I was last year. That's a big step for me, especially considering I don't get much physical activity into my schedule- and no, swiping on makeup does not count as much as I'd like it to.

My teeth. I'm so self conscious of my teeth. They look stained and yellow to me, yet friends say I should smile more often. I have a beautiful smile. My response to that is simply "It's a work in progress." Yes, I have braces. Yes, my missing tooth up front is making its way down to where it belongs. It's a process. I'm so self conscious of that gap it's not even funny. So when you see me smile close-mouthed, or turning my head so you see the left side of my face... That is why. I don't want you to see that gaping hole.

At my breastbone, I have an awful dip. Most girls have very nice cleavage- boobs are smooth where they emerge from the ribcage. Mine? Nope, I've got a weird one. Not only are my boobs big, but instead of looking normal (take a look at someone like Christina Ricci, or Heidi Klum) and you'll notice they have a beautiful rib cage and a nice "v" (for lack of a better description, since none is coming to mind) where their breasts kind of sit at the middle there. I have an awful gap, and I could only wish mine were as perky as theirs. And heck- look how many kids Heidi's had, and hers still look perfect. Ok, ok, I'll admit. She's most likely had plastic surgery- and if not, great. But there's still a whole lot of airbrushing going on. I'm insecure about it. I don't like it. Neither of my sisters has it. Just me.

I could point out a whole flurry of flaws I see within myself- I hate the bags under my eyes. My fingers aren't long and graceful looking. My right foot looks awful. My left knee has asphalt still in there from a rollerblade crash 10 years ago. I look awful without makeup. My hips are too big, my butt is too jiggly, my thighs are huge, my belly is smaller but still not ideal, I don't like the fat lumps my bra makes when it slides to an incorrect position. I complain, I'm bitchy, ornery, completely unmotivated, a wicked procrastinator and really don't want help even if I could use it. I'm too proud to ask, and usually shoo people away that do try to help. In my head, the emotional abuse I let assault me could go on for days, weeks. Months even. There really isn't much about me that I like right now. I suppose that's because I've allowed myself to get into this mindset of negativity, and with a list like that I could go on and on.

I'm insecure. I'm a bit lost at the moment. But I'm finding my way through each day, out of bed each morning, and sometimes even getting out of the house. I never intended on becoming a recluse, hermit, but I have.

I'm realizing though, I'm not as bad as I think I am. I am my own toughest critic, and it's hard to look in the mirror each day and will myself to make it better than yesterday. I'm determined to do it.
I'm worth more than I give myself credit for. I often tell this to my friends, and even strangers online who have become friends, yet I don't take my own advice. I suppose that makes me a bit of a hypocrite- and it's something that is going to stop.

I started to change yesterday. Today I will continue. And tomorrow will be the same.
I will take something I don't like about myself, and learn to love and accept it for who I am, because without it... I would not be me.

Unhappiness and General Loathing

It's why I haven't posted lately. I haven't found much inspiration to write, nevermind play with makeup. It's been months since I've done a tutorial, and I only do my makeup when I absolutely have to go out. I love receiving it. I love the anticipation of getting a package in the mail. I love opening it up, looking at it in my hands... And then, for some reason, the spark goes out.

Like a puff of smoke, that excitement is gone... Poof.

I'm finding it very hard, day to day, to get up and do something. Anything. You know this, because I've shared it before. I've become far more withdrawn than I'd like to be, in an effort to keep most of you blind to the fact that I'm in pain nearly constantly. I think the only time I'm not is right after nerve blocks are done- when the majority of the pain lessens, and when I take my night medications which knock me out and literally put me into a deep sleep. It's then I rest. The drawback? I no longer dream.

I miss my dreams. Colorful, vibrant, sometimes adventures I have. They've been my escape from the boring, repetitive days I often have. No more, not when I have to medicate and put myself out. I've been fighting insomnia for some time now. Val is the medication at night, and if I don't take it... I don't sleep. I'll literally lay in bed, staring at my ceiling, thoughts in my head going a million miles a minute and not making sense... But not quieting so I can rest. I just let my body lie there. The sounds are loud, I don't sleep without the aid of the medication. I don't like it. I used to be able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I used to be able to move when I slept- now when I do, it wakes me.... Painfully. Sometimes I crack, sometimes I pop, sometimes it feels like I have someone standing at my shoulders, another at my feet, and they're pulling an elastic band that starts on my right second and third toe... Tightening up the bottom of my foot, up the back of my heel, up my calf, thigh, right butt cheek, and finally my hip and back area where the spasm still resides. On especially bad nights, it goes as far as my shoulder blade. Chronic pain. The spasm still has not let loose, at all. Same one, over a year now. It's frustrating.

I know I'll get better, but sometimes I wonder. Why is it taking so long already?
A recent episode really troubles me. I was late to my doctor appointment, and the Cow at the front reception desk turned me away. Sat there, argued with me I was late- when I was not. I explained to her that my doctor gave explicit instructions to get to him as soon as possible when I feel something off in my back, or the spasm starts to worsen and I have more pain. It's what I did in this case. The time it took to explain this to her basically used up my "appointment time". She told me I was welcome to sit in the waiting room on the off chance that at some point that afternoon I'd be able to see him. I showed her my cane, explained I've started falling again, and I can't sit in anything upright for any period of time. It has to be a recliner otherwise my back starts to protest even more. She had no compassion, no sympathy, empathy, or anything. Just said so what, if you don't want to wait you don't have to. I had to reschedule, and did such finally giving her back the rude attitude she was spitting at me with. I went in on a Wednesday, she scheduled me for Monday. Apparently there were no other appointments which were available- which was a lie, but that's beside the point. When I asked her for medication samples that I needed, so I don't get worse, she sat there, rolled her eyes and told me to ask my doctor when I came in on Monday.


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