Last week was absolute hell. It extended into this week, and I 100% wanted to shoot someone.
Okay. That’s a lie. I never actually want to shoot someone. Or stab someone. Or punch someone (unless they punched me first). I should probably stop saying it.
It started with the propane/oil company. I called them on Thursday (1/5) to set up a tank fill because we were on 1/8 of a tank. I probably shouldn’t have waited that long, but we have 30 days to pay the bill, and we knew it would be a lot of money that we wouldn’t be able to pay until M got paid, so we wanted to make sure we’d have plenty of time.
When I called, the lady was all, “Oh, you need a fill soon! I’ll get that set up and we’ll be over in a couple of days.” Then the temperature dipped below 0 a couple of times over the weekend, and suddenly, it was Monday, and we were on E and they still hadn’t showed up. So I called again. And she started lecturing me about keeping a close eye on my tank like she hadn’t told me on Thursday that she would get someone out there immediately to fill it.
They offered to “try to fit you in” on Tuesday, and they managed, but by that time, the tank was empty, and we were trying to heat our house with space heaters. Read more…
So the other day, I had a pretty major panic attack. It was ridiculous. I know it was ridiculous. But I couldn’t make it stop.
We were grocery shopping at the Middle of Nowhere grocery store.
I love the place. Everyone is really nice, including the customers. A few of the cashiers seem to sense my social anxiety and try not to freak me out too much. This one woman complimented me on my jingle bells hair ties around Christmas, and the way she said it, it was clear she was really trying not to make me uncomfortable. It was sweet, and I appreciated it.
I still got really uncomfortable, because I felt like I was holding up the line, and heaven fucking forbid you have a genuine, nice conversation with the cashier, any time of the year, if there are customers behind you. And if you do it during the holidays when, no matter where you live, there are a million more shoppers out every single day? Gah! You are the devil.
The impatience of the people behind me was probably mostly in my head, but I can’t deal with that kind of pressure. So I rushed her through the conversation and left while the woman bagging was still speaking. And felt even worse. But I didn’t have a panic attack about that. Read more…
This is probably not going to become a thing. I tried doing weekly updates once before, but they got redundant and annoying and blah. To me, anyway. No one else ever said as much.
But right now, I’m in a really good place mentally, and it’s a huge turn for me, and so I wanted to talk about where I’m at before the Monthly Monster drags me down into the bottomless pit of despair like it always does. I can already feel it tugging at the edges of my mind, trying to make me question myself, so I gotta make this fast!
Of the last 10 days, I’ve missed 4 days of exercise. All of them intentional.
I refuse to apologize for the first three because it was the last Friday of 2016, New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day. My excuse is boooooooooooooooze. Plus, I wasn’t really planning on hitting it hard until the new year, anyway. New year, new start, and all that jazz.
I know a lot of people have been bashing the fuck out of the “new year, new start” crowd, lately, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s becoming a really helpful coping mechanism for me, especially in light of 2016 being such a shit year. I’ve made some bad decisions. I’ve done some fucked up shit. I don’t even know who all I hurt/owe apologies to.
But that was the old me. That was 2016 me. 2017 me will be better. Read more…
I can’t say that I’m sad to see 2016 go. So many of my childhood heroes have passed. We elected a narcissistic racist rapist to be our Commander In Chief. The people of our country are showing their true colors every single day on the internet. This was a real headline: “Hillary Clinton Sends Thank-You Letter to ‘Slut’ Who Is Proud of Her Sexually Transmitted Disease.”
2016 can fuck right the fuck off, thanks.
Last year, I said I wasn’t going to post site goals or New Year’s Resolutions. And I’m still not. At least, not in the way that I usually do. I’m not sure where I’m going with the site, this year. I’m not sure what I want to get out of 2017, yet. All I know for sure is what I want to stop doing.
I want to stop making promises to myself and not keeping them.
I want to stop allowing my mental illness to paralyze me.
I want to start setting and achieving goals.
So I have four goals for January. Read more…
So, like every other annoyingly cliché couple who thinks they’re way more adorable than they are, M and I play the “I love you more” game. You know…”I love you.” “Yeah, well, I love you more.” “Nope.” “Yep.”
It has recently been brought to my attention, by way of a coffee mug I didn’t know he ordered, that M is a great big cheating cheater.
We had to order some new sheets, and some light timers, and he got me an apron because I’ve been wanting one forever so maybe I can not ruin my clothes when I’m cooking. But I knew about all those things. I was expecting those things.
Then I opened the box, and there was this mug! And I cried because I cry about everything sweet these days. And then I told him he’s a great big cheater. And a liar. Because clearly, I love him more.
From the summer of 2014 until 2016, I went through a bit of an existential crisis.
I hate admitting that. I hate everything about that.
I hate that it’s lasted so long. I hate that I feel like I lost myself somewhere. I hate that I for sure took it out on other people. I hate that I allowed it to make me even more flakey than I already am. I hate that I allowed it to make me retreat into myself with no explanation to any of the people (or companies) I care about.
I hate that I’m not 100% sure it’s over.
Over the past year, I’ve spent the majority of my time buried in politics and social justice (which you know if you follow me on Twitter). I’ve lost a lot of readers, and a lot of reach because so many people came to me strictly for sex and kink advice, and I have mostly stopped posting that literally everywhere you can find me.
And at first, I was mad about it.
I have never and will never be a one dimensional person. Read more…