Sunday, December 29, 2013

An Empathetic Wish

That I could care for all mankind
as though they were my darkened sons
that lit the day and cast such light
to guide my sight through lonely storms

That I could dream as children may
of peace on earth and guileless trade
through age until my dying day
though naivety is born to fade

That I could live a life unfeard
the scorching brace of hate avoid
and suffer not the shyness
painful memories employ

That I could in my kin inspire
a love that from no heart would turn
Yet failing me, I close my eye
and live in shadows crisp and stern


inspired by the style and themes of Emily Dickenson;
with perspective and wisdom kindly shared with me by The RSA and CrashCourse

Monday, December 23, 2013

Holidays in Narnia

So, readers, if you're out there; Merry Christmas... Although I don't wish to discredit or dismiss whatever other feelings or traditions you may have about the season, by any means. I am up North a bit, in country much closer to the home I once new, for Christmas. I am staying with my boyfriend's family. I imagine they will forgive me for calling them simple country folk, in a way that does not necessarily mean stupid. They offer me good food, but not fancy, and pleasant treats, and I spent the morning this morning playing euchre and then poker with them. I lost the bets (no-one was really in for money anyway) but like to think I won some respect and hopefully a good first impression.

A few days past, Robby and I and our group of internet friends exchanged presents in a Skype call (since they are quite far away most of the time, some more than others). Robby received many interesting presents, mostly toys. Among them was a copy of the Anhk-Morpork board game. More specifically, it was the copy once owned by Spoony, signed and dedicated to him by name. He was elated. We played it today, and it was great fun, especially the novelty of recognizing the characters from the books and explaining to him who Mrs. Cake was, and other such magnificent tidbits of knowledge. From the beginning, he thought I was playing as Commander Vimes, one of my favorite Discworld characters, because I said from the start that I really liked the character I was playing as. Then he used Mrs. Cake, which allowed him to look at all but one of the unused characters, and saw that I was not Vimes. I was, in fact, Lord Vetinari, who is another of my favorite characters. He, on the other hand, was playing as the Dragon King of Arms. In the end, he won, after gaily and playfully spreading chaos across the city, and causing the people to long for the slightly more stable days when they had a True King. Given Vimes's canonical thoughts on the matter, it would have been a very appropriate and poignant match, I think, if I had been Vimes, and he and the body attempting to reinstate monarchy had been facing off over the city. I look forward to thoroughly enjoying many more games of it in the future, and recommend it to any Discworld fans out there.

The snow outside is deep, the roads winding. It took us a nearly five hour long road trip to get here. Robby and I are sharing a room upstairs, as opposed to in the basement where we thought we would be staying, but it's comfortable enough - for me at least; Robby felt the bed was too small for him to properly spread his body out, and was too warm last night. It was pleasant cuddling up with him, though.

I look forward with excitement to seeing these people open the presents I brought for them, and finding out whether there will be anything for me to unwrap in my turn. Unfortunately I didn't have much of that nature at our internet friend present exchange. The others didn't feel they knew me well enough yet to buy for me and the only physical thing I got was a pig-shaped piece of soap. However, I did recieve non-physical gifts. Two friends sent me video games on Steam (three if you count Robby himself, who amusingly forgot to buy me any Christmas present until just a couple days before we left for his grandparents' house), and one sent me two albums of music my Jami Sieber, after asking me if there were any albums I wanted. They have my happy and quiet thanks.

Also, I do have a computer working again at home. It cost over seven times what my old one cost, and doesn't work as well. But thankfully it doesn't suffer from Cyclical Redundancy Check problems, which is at least something. I'm not sure yet whether I want to bother bringing it back in for an exchange within its thirty day warranty period... After all, I wasn't expecting to get a better deal than the computer I had before, old though it was. Still, though, the difference is rather discouraging. At least I can do art with it. My Chickensmoothie art shop is doing well, and I've received and completed five commissions since it started up again a couple of weeks ago. I also drew some artwork to give to my internet friends as gifts, both traditional and digital in form. I believe both pieces were thoroughly enjoyed by their recipients.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

A Season of Carols

Time is passing, passing along...

Work has become more and more habitual and easy. I go about my duties with unhurried calm most of the time, and feel competent and a little as though I am in a trance. The snow drifting outside the windows on snowy days, and serene or gently moody Christmas carols can be hypnotizing. It seems like we always have far more to do than we can realistically get done, but I am coming to understand that this is the way the store is meant to be run. Perfection is not expected, just a continuing effort to improve the worst problems, tidy the worst messes, and keep things running.

Customers ask me if I am working hard, and sometimes I am so relaxed I wonder if they are perhaps being sarcastic, but I am careful not to fall idle, and always be doing something useful to the store.

About a week ago, I decided to take up a piece of digital artwork I had promised a friend a year or so before, and ended up surprising myself by working for seven hours, and finishing it. I opened up artwork commissions on ChickenSmoothie again, which is basically an art trading site, but most of that art trading is in the form of official site collectable pets. It's not "professional", since it's not actually money, but it is reassuring to know that there are people who will trade me something that has value to them, and to the community we are participating in, in exchange for the quality of artwork I produce.

Doing art seems to make me happier, and the commissions help me focus and finish.

Unfortunately, my computer at home has encountered a somewhat serious problem, and is now not starting up Windows at all, not even in Safe Mode. It seems to be getting stuck on a file called SPTD.sys. I've had a lot of problems with corrupt files and cyclical reduncancy checks recently, and I knew my computer was deteriorating, so I'm not surprised. I've been wanting to replace it for a while now, but I have been spending my money on other things: repaying an old debt to a friend, housewares and winter garments, games, Christmas presents... I'll have to get a cheap replacement as soon as is reasonably convenient. Hopefully within the month. I'm not sure what I'll spend my time doing at home without one. For now, I'm staying with  my boyfriend again. Being alone without computer and internet access is lonely and boring. Being with my boyfriend is neither, and thus greatly preferable.

I still wonder where I'm going and how I will progress. I am feeling more and more confident in my present role. I even managed to get some resolution and a greater feeling of respect and appreciation after a mild confrontation with a co-worker with whom I was having some conflict.

I wonder sometimes if I am getting too comfortable, and a bit lax. Perhaps I should ask my co-workers and managers what they think. I wonder sometimes if I am becoming more sheltered and recluse, or complacent about the world and my ideals... I'm not sure who to talk to or what to do about that. It doesn't concern me all that much, though. I have time to bide and wait, and find something.

Oh. Also, I noticed something. Both at work and in my life surrounding it, I notice that I tend to get bored and despondent if things get too easy. The first big snowfall of the season, I walked to work and then to my boyfriend's house along the side of the road because the unshoveled sidewalks were knee-deep in snow... And I was elated by the challenge, the opportunity to get there anyway, do something -interesting-. I notice that I need a certain amount of adversity in my life, or I get bored and start to feel worthless and uninterested. My boyfriend thinks that is probably a sign of adaptation to a life that has been too hard. Perhaps. It is a useful revelation, though. Perhaps I can remember to make use of it, if I start to feel that boredom.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Left Forgotten

Wow. Yeah. I really did completely miss October of this year.

Well, there goes my streak of updating this thing at least once every calendar month, huh? Ah, well. I'll start again. Everyone makes mistakes.

You know, I had been meaning to come back and talk to you unseen eyes for a while now, but it always just seemed like I didn't have a good stopping point. Everything was up in the air, and reporting on my current status would give no closure, because I didn't have much. It's silly, in retrospect. I think some of my best writing on this blog has been from when I've been uncertain about the future.

So. October. I spent most of September desperately trying to find a place to move into for October. It didn't work. Me and Robby were turned down everywhere we applied, for various reasons. We suspected that the reasons were largely due to us being a couple, and therefore perceived as less financially stable than a single person with high earnings. So, he asked his current landlord for permission to stay where he was already, and continue to pay rent month by month for now, and I started looking for a place where I might be able to do the same thing. That way, once he was working again and had passed his three month probation, having been fired early September at the end of his last one (likely part of the reason for our rejections), we could look for a place to rent together with little to no time pressure, and wait to find a good place that would accept us, then move out of our flexible month to month situations only once we had found one.

I asked my roommate to let me stay at the apartment for the month of October even though my term on the lease was over, and offered to pay him the same amount in rent that I had been contributing when it was just us two... Despite the fact that his new girlfriend was now living there, too. He accepted, and I resumed the search for a place, but to move into for November. With the help of his girlfriend's mom, I found the place I am sitting in now. A bedroom in the fairly posh basement of a nice couple's house. I have my own bedroom across an open living room that the landlord sometimes walks through to use the laundry facilities down here. I share the upstairs kitchen. It's quite nice and very affordable, but I need to ask permission to have folks over. I've had Robby over to visit twice, under the restriction that he needs to leave by 11 PM.

My position at Goodwill continues to gradually accrue age and experience. I've been working there I think six months now, and I feel generally quite competent at almost every part of my job... The big exception being confrontation with difficult customers and thieves. While my social anxiety has not been crippling me nearly as badly now that I have the confidence of a job in which my work is appreciated and I've passed my probation, and a house that shows no sign, thank goodness, of being infested with blood-sucking bed bugs (I must have done a fairly good job of getting them out of all my things when I moved), but still, being faced with a particularly difficult or conflict-ridden social situation paralyzes me. Thankfully, my workmates are generally understanding, and can accept that it's not something I'm good at, so take the burden off me somewhat.

Though I am usually fairly happy at work, and my new place is safe, much more comfortable, and very convenient, I grow restless. I had feared, before finding employment, that if I was employed, I might become complacent with my passionate socialist ideals among other things... And to a degree, that's proven valid. My perspective is very different now that I'm making money and am not just on welfare. However, when I think about what I believe should be, much of it is still the same. I still think that welfare would work better, and people would be better off, if basic essentials were available without cost. Now, though, I look at a different set of advantages to the thought. It would be harder to defraud or take advantage of the welfare system, as well, if it offered you goods, shelter and services directly, rather than through money allowances. It's a lot harder and much more work to get simple food and goods and have to sell them somehow to get easily exchangeable money to spend on luxuries that the benefit wasn't intended for. Or, indeed, drugs or alcohol, for that matter. I imagine people who do have their own income stream would far less often bother to do that than to fraudulently claim money benefits they are not entitled to, as they might do now.

I've also been reading a little bit about becoming rich through real estate and stock market investments.

Yes, I know. Funny how much things can change, right? I'm seeing more of the picture now, because I'm seeing a lot more of a side I wasn't able to before. I'm trying not to lose sight of my old thoughts and the things that made them valid, too, though.

My half-brother emailed me yesterday asking how my life has been, and commented that he had been to check out this blog to find out, but there were no recent entries. So, if you've been missing my blog entries, you can thank him for reminding me to return and talk about how things have been.

I'm still getting used to working, and I'm trying to make up my mind whether or not it's okay for me to wait longer to become more secure and save up more money before I start doing interesting things. Probably not. It's just a matter of remembering that some of the interesting things I want to do don't take much money, and getting out and doing them.

We'll see how it goes.

Live on, bloggers.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Walking Away

AAAAAAAAAUUUGH!

please don't hate me

The suggestion of parting ways, why do I hate the idea so much? I wanted to go home, relax, play games. It feels as though you are being taken away and so my immediate impulse is to hold on to you... Even though I had not intended to "use" you right then anyway. I should probably talk to a counsellor about this clinginess. Letting you go should NOT be that agonizing.

God it was hard. And then I just started walking and I swear at least three distinct parts of my mind started freaking the fuck out. I mean seriously losing their shit. Hence the first two parts of this message, selected as about the most coherent thoughts in the storm of screams and so much fear my breastbone hurt. But I am pleased to report that another of the clearest voices was saying, "It's okay. He still loves you. He understands. It's going to be okay. He knows you still love him..."

I want you to understand this is the kind of broken I am. This is the kind of fear I'm surrendering to when I don't want to leave you. This is a passable description of my mind from the inside when shit gets a little crazy. And it's often what I'm avoiding saying or doing when I fall completely silent.

I think just walking, though rude if one doesn't understand I can't communicate, was right. The storm happened, but that means I faced my fear, and I felt liberated, denying it the control over me to keep me paralysed. It was me deciding firmly that you could go home and I wasn't going to whine about it or beg you to comfort me about it. And I could go home and relax and game and not need you beside me to enjoy it.

Relief

Good news! I won't be homeless next month!

I called my landlord last night, who said he doesn't mind if I stay so long as he gets his rent as appropriate (it's $100 more per occupant not on the lease). I made the offer to my roommate to pay the same amount I had been paying while staying here and taking on half of the rent, $450, even though there is now another person to carry the rent, and he accepted that. "But just one more month".

At the same time, my roommate's girlfriend's mom is a realtor, and she has offered to help me look for places. She also started mothering and reassuring me immediately that my roommate would make sure I had a place to go before insisting I leave, that I would be able to find a place in the time I have, she knows I can do it. Things like that. It kind of makes me blush to get such maternal care. With such a source of help, "just one more month" should be fine.

So I told my friends about it, played some games and stayed up late last night. Part of my night also consisted of reading this page, which a friend of mine linked me to, and gaining some further insight into my relationship with my blood mother. Many of the points are very much applicable to her, to greater or lesser degrees. Not all. I suffered little physical abuse, for instance, and if my mom ever got pleasure from my pain directly, as opposed to from a sense of self-importance to which my abuse was merely a means, rather than an end in itself, then I didn't notice. I think I would have done.

I went to bed at about 4 AM, and woke up at half past noon, feeling happy and hopeful again. I have no regrets. Relief has come!

Anyway, I have some landlords to call. Good morning, bloggers!

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Quiet

In the last few hours of my work day, I found good feelings again. The fog seemed to lift just after Leah asked me to sweep the carpets at the end of the day. Though she ended up arranging to borrow a vacuum cleaner from her sister that worked better than any of the ones we'd had in the store before. They keep getting lost or sold or broken or something.

I told Helen about my worries about not having a place to live. She seemed kind of shocked, and insisted that we'd find something and I wouldn't have to go back to the Center of Hope, but I think she was saying it because she didn't want to believe in the reality of that happening to someone she knew.

I walked home feeling feeble and regressed. In my mind, I am lucid - I can think fine, and can describe how it is I'm feeling... in text, anyway, speaking comes difficult... But I feel like a lost toddler, trying to be brave, but confused and scared. My sense of self seems to float, disconnected from things. I have an impulse to reach out to people, but also an impulse to hide and retreat from them, especially if they might not have time for me. I am keenly self-conscious, and afraid of doing something wrong.

For the moment, I feel okay, but very delicate; I am held together, but not very strongly, and I feel I could fall apart very easily; I am balanced for now, but I could very easily fall.

I wonder how long this will last, and what will happen next.

And I prepare myself to move back into the Center of Hope. I have so nearly accepted it as inevitable that I am almost determined for it to be the next part of my story.

Fear

I've been reading Autobiography of a Schizophrenic Girl. It's probably not been the best idea for keeping a positive attitude. I haven't mentioned it here yet, but I had my three months' probation end meeting, and it was a rather difficult awakening for me. My punctuality and my attitude both needed work, but my managers seemed to think I could do it. I've been doing well, and I think I generally can, too.

Today... yesterday, I heard from our most recently applied to potential landlord that he probably won't have an answer for us regarding whether we have approval to stay there until mid week at the earliest. We have gotten two rejections so far. There will be little to no time after this week for even one more chance. Today... I woke up sluggish and took the bus rather than walking, for the first time in a while. Today... I spent the first two hours at work mostly cleaning and mopping...

And I feel... so tired. I can think of nothing except the dread of going back to the Center of Hope, the place from which I was taken to that little room with the port-hole window and the straps on the bed, because I was so upset and stressed I could not speak... Where even if I can get a private room, paying for my lodging, which is not, as far as I know, guaranteed, it seems likely I would still have to get my pills every day in the morning in the narrow time slot alloted for it or ask for an extra dose for the following days. Have to confirm and clear my schedule through someone else every day, in several ways...

I've been doing reasonably well before now at keeping a positive attitude. I've been getting lots of rest and eating fruit and enjoying the music here at work. Today, I feel haunted, and dread the thought that I will fail my extended probation as well, and lose the job I've worked hard to get, and keep.

I don't feel able to smile right now...

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Indomitable

My feet are still recovering from the intense soreness of wearing unaccustomed shoes for six hours, most of it spent walking at work and walking home from work. My boyfriend was laid off yesterday and I have no idea whether our rental application for the house we want to live in together will be approved in light of this. I'm not sure whether my own job with Goodwill will end with my end of probation assessment like Robby's did, or continue. And yet. I'm smiling today.

I was smiling even before I got online and discovered that the solo play-by-post D&D game I've been participating in for two years on and off has reached a head in the most awesome of ways. I was smiling while I was walking home noticing that the seam in the left side of my left shoe was starting to hurt my flesh and thinking to myself I wouldn't be terribly surprised if I took it off to see blood there.

Somehow, this time of trials is only waking me up and making me feel strong and ready for the adventure. I have faced worse than this, and I will face this too. I will be there for Robby and help him find work again. I will support us in the interim, whether we have to look for a different place from the one we were hoping for or not. Even if I lose my own job... I'll find another one. The stakes are high. The race is staggering. The stage is set...

And I am afraid...

And I will be victorious.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Beautiful Fog

It seems I'm quite conscious of my own desire not to let a full calendar month go by without coming back to post here. I kind of like that. Perseverance? Good habits? One way or another, it seems like a positive thing. I work tomorrow, and it is becoming very late. I will get less than six hours of sleep. But I'm okay with that. I'm not worried, even though my scheduled shift is longer than most. It took a while, but I've become quite comfortable with my work, and far less worried that I'm somehow not doing it well enough. My co-workers, by and large, seem to like me and consider me a good worker.

Tonight I went out walking, just to be walking, as I haven't for a while. Along the path just South of the river, a path that is fairly familiar to me, I wandered through banks of deep fog under a full moon, and felt as though I were wandering through myth, a marsh world of old Irish fairy tales. For a moment, a fallen leaf across my path looked like a giant slug. A skunk skittered across my path, and stopped, startled by the presence of this big creature, to look at me, and I think I heard it hiss, though perhaps it was the sound of it stomping against the pavement, before continuing on.

The fog was beautiful... And oddly, I felt no particular need for it to feel unnatural or magical. The whole matter was evocative but felt very down to earth. Happy, peaceful... My life has become like this. Though I am restless, and worry from time to time about when and whether I will end up doing more with my artistic and idealistic ambitions, I am content with my life right now. I work easy hours for low pay, doing something I enjoy with people I have developed a fond working familiarity with, for the most part. I can afford to live simply with a few luxuries, and my life has been such that I can very much appreciate what I have. Bunny boy and I are planning to move into a classy apartment together come this October, which will be no more expensive than our current separate living arrangements, but I have little doubt it will be much richer. He has said that he has a hard time imagining anything short of sudden, tragic death ending our new, flourishing relationship, despite the fact that it has had its own challenges and bumps. This is only one of many marks of the goodness of this match. Even my relations with Pup are not as stressful, if only because I feel I can accept how stressful they sometimes are, which puts me in a position of confidence and calm from which I am much better equipped to comfort him.

If I feel the urge to write again soon, you know I'll be in touch. Until then... Serenity.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

To Share The Cup That Runneth Over

Someone on FetLife was asking for peoples' perspectives on the influence of our past parental abuse on those of us who have been abused and how it relates to our own desire to have, or to avoid having, children. Her voice was impassioned and full of a great deal of understandable internal conflict. It's clear she wants the good things that come with having children, and desperately wants to love and care for someone, but realizes that her scars may get in the way, and doesn't want to be a bad parent.

I would like to share my response with you all.

The best way I feel I can answer this is to tell my own stories related to it. 
I was inspired by the subtle, psychological abuses of my childhood to be vehemently vocal about bad parenting when I see it, especially when parents become frustrated with their childrens' natural curiosity and desire to learn, seeing virtually anything other than quiet obedience as disobedience, even when they only the actions of a young, inexperienced human engaged with the world and trying to gain the experience required to be a wise, functional adult.
And then later, I found VHEMT. 
I am not convinced that the human race has no chance of improving and willfully evolving socially and morally to progressively better states, and therefore don't think I actually want us to go extinct, but I definitely would prefer to see a smaller human race, with more quality, and less quantity, of life. The fewer people there are to share resources with, the bigger everyone's fair share can be. 
And this is why I've decided never to give birth, even though the thought is a fetish of mine.
However, it doesn't mean I don't want to be a mother.
I am still scarred and rendered dysfunctional by my own past abuses. In many ways the wisdom and sensitivity gained from my suffering has made me a generally very patient and level-headed person, but I am also prone to fits of anxiety and rage. Furthermore, I am young, and at the very beginning of my career. 
But someday, if I have greater financial stability, and if I have healed further and feel less controlled by my overpowering emotions, I will almost certainly want to participate in the growing and nurturing of children who were not born to me. I may foster-parent, or adopt. Or I may find my way into a nurturing role in my profession, or find my way into a household that accepts me in a role as a supportive carer and guardian to the children of someone else. 
Personally, I find it hard to believe that any child, even in the best and most well-adapted of families, could not benefit from one more loving, supportive adult in their life to encourage them to be the best that they could be; And equally hard to believe that any parent, even with the best luxuries and availability of resources and time, would not benefit from one more loving, supportive adult who could share the stresses of caring for a child when they become taxing, and thus prevent the build-up of frustration that can lead to that frustration being inappropriately taken out on the child. 
But to answer the question that stood out most to me in your post...
"If you feel, like you have love and tender loving care to give, who do you direct that energy to, if it is not kids?" 
Why... To everyone, of course. Neighbors going through hard times. Co-workers. Friends. And definitely lovers, whether they be short or long term. Absolutely everyone, not only children, and to be sure not only our own blood children, can use some Tender-Loving-Care. It is one of the greatest weaknesses of our Western society that we tend to forbid one another from taking responsibility for one another, and in turn, we forbid one another from asking for badly needed help. 
If you have love and Tender-Loving-Care to give, and you find no-one receiving it, if your cup runneth over with no-one to drink... Go to your best friends and congenial workmates, go to your lovers and partners and crushes, and if it is permissible within their circles, then go to theirs... go to those people with whom you can easily empathize, and encourage them to draw from your well of kindness whenever they are thirsty. 
All too frequently the only socially acceptable answer, to create a new life in to nurture and build up, because for some incredibly stupid reason we have been forbidden to nurture and build one another, is the only one that comes to mind. But especially for those of us who are damaged and who runneth over, but sometimes also run dry... We know in our doubts that creating a life for our love and care, and then becoming overwhelmed and filling it up also with our frustrations and tempers, becoming bad parents... Is all too real a possibility. 
Before you forge a new cup that you may not be able to fill all by yourself, then... I encourage you to seek out all of those cups near to your heart that are beginning to run low, and ask gently and patiently for permission to refill them. Break the stupid rules that forbid us from caring, mothering and looking out for one another. It is, of course, a delicate dance, and important not to be overbearing, but simply to be loving and available. But it's a well-known fact that parenting isn't easy. And this holds true whether the people you're parenting are children, or blood family, or not. 
I hope this helped.

Monday, July 8, 2013

To Be Happy

This may be the best night of my life.

The day... was beautiful. I went out and bought a birthday present for my Robby that was both expensive enough it made me reflect on how incredibly much more I can afford to do now that I'm working, and something I'm sure he'll love.

I stopped to play piano again at MSP for the first time in a long time, and got praise showered upon me again for it.

On the way home, there was a sudden, intense cloudburst shower, and I grinned and laughed and giggled at people I passed while walking home.

I cooked a fine meal.

This evening, my mother messaged me. After a string of passive aggressiveness and clumsy attempts to force me to take responsibility for her long abuse of me in my childhood, I told her with extraordinarily satisfying malice that if she kept sending me messages tonight, I would block her, just like I blocked Pup for a month, when he deserved it. I gave her the same three. She only used one more, and logged off. She made it such an awful one that I was tempted to block her anyway, but Robby talked me out of it. I must have finally remembered Dan Savage's words, in that one video... "Your leverage over your parents is your participation in their lives."

Later that night, Damon came for a visit, and I mothered the heck out of him. I made sure he was well fed, and gave him food to take with him, as he has not had enough in his pantry of late. At the bus stop before he left... He kissed me...

I had either forgotten how good his kisses were, or he's gotten better at it since it last happened.

...I guess we still have that old spark glowing strong.

And then I went to see Robby, who after all is now my primary, and after a dramatic romantic moment with someone else, deserves my reaffirmations and attention.

And I found a new and interesting way to completely blow his mind.

...

This may be the best night of my life.

I think I'm in subspace.

Wheeeeeeeeeeee.

Oh, yes. One more thing. Possibly the most important thing of all. Before I fought with my mom, I... While frustrated with my own moodiness because I was getting upset at Robby for something silly, and didn't want to be upset...

I thought to myself, and realized...

I want to be happy.

I actually. Want. To be happy.

Not just to not be feeling this, not just for the misery to go away.

To be happy.

...And here I am...

Friday, June 21, 2013

A Lump

I'm actually writing this one from work, and it will be short, as I have to start my shift soon. It's just a brief status update.

I've now been working several weeks, been with Robby the rabbit for going on three months, and been taking birth control pills for four days, and my new, stronger dose of synthroid pills for a few days more than that.

I've hit a wall. Not an especially high or unscalable wall, I think. Probably only chest high. But it's a bit of an obstacle.

I don't know whether it's my body adjusting to the pills, or my mind adjusting to the work, or my everything adjusting to a relationship, or my reactions to Robby reacting to my scars and anxieties. It might be related to general stress at work, as apparently the store isn't hitting its sales quotas, and I think the management are worried about that. I'm going to generally guess it's a bland mix of all of the above. But I've been feeling depressive for the past couple days. Not so much that it keeps me from writing, as you can see, or even from enjoying myself... My date slash hang out time with Robby in the past two days was great. I think. No, it was for the most part...

Right now, I feel slightly nauseous, have a mild headache, and am very groggy and tired despite having slept a full and uninterrupted eight hours before waking up naturally to no particular disturbance.

I should probably ask my doctor if this is to be expected given a dosage change and new birth control pills.

Keep strong, my loves. Be happy. Happier than me, if you can manage it.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Life Is Good

Good day, bloggers.

I really, really mean that.

Sorry I've not been in touch, life is pretty awesomely hectic. Let's see if I can fill you in with some brevity. Robby the rabbit boy is still around and still a source of great comfort and warm, easy, peaceful love that makes a lot of traditional notions much more attractive... Not that they weren't already, but it's more profound.

Perhaps more surprisingly, Pup's around again too. I didn't talk to him for a whole month... Then I broke the silence, and returned to find a puppy boy grateful and overwhelmed with good feelings to hear my voice and see my face again. For the two weeks previous, he'd been getting help changing some of his more difficult behaviors from a shockingly delightful lady who showed up on FetLife out of absolutely nowhere to flirt with me and ask about playing with me. I wasn't really interested, partly because of the recent chaos with Pup, so she found his page and asked me if she could play with him. I was only too glad to encourage her to do so with my highest blessings and deep gratitude. While I'd given up the Pup as a lost cause for me, I really wanted him to get through the grief I knew it would cause him breaking up with me and was incredibly grateful to have someone show up who seemed very much his type and who would probably do great things to soothe the pain, if only by being a very pleasant distraction who understood.

She surprised me. Not only did she enjoy him in ways I have no doubt he enjoyed quite a lot himself, she took on the task of training him according to his own desires to become a person who would be less trouble for me if I ever did come back. She's helped him, for his sake and mine, to be less argumentative, to stop and ask before going off on long tangents or trying to share all the neat things he wants to share with me... And, with an incredible cunning that blew me away when I heard of it, also came up with a way to give him some training in pitch recognition and at the same time, much more importantly, subject him to exposure therapy to force him to face and learn to deal with jealousy. In a way that he will accept, despite all its unpleasantness. She is a fucking genius, and I don't know what kind spirit sent her our way, but may it receive resounding thanks for her presence.

I'm not spending a lot of time with Pup. But we've spoken a few times. It has been congenial and pleasant. My lost cause, somehow... in only a month... has been found again, and retrieved safely and whole from the jaws of panic and hopelessness and fits of not knowing how to deal with his jealousy...

I don't know what to say, but thank you, thank you, thank you, and if I somehow deserve all this, I abso-fucking-lutely love who I am as a person on that count alone.

It doesn't stop there. For the past two weeks, I've been employed. I'm working part time, a minimum of 15-20 hours a week, with Goodwill retail here in London. And it's great. I'm primarily a stocker and unstocker, but I also clean the kitchens and staff bathrooms, since the new manager offered extra hours to someone willing to keep those areas clean, and housekeeping is my background. I had even been doing some independent work cleaning someone's bathrooms from time to time in the preceding few months. Serendipity to be sure.

My job has me on my feet walking a lot, up to 7 or 8 hours in a day, so my feet are often tired and sore at the end of a shift. My arms get sore too when I have to stock or pull from high racks, as apparently there are muscles that my arms has never had much need to use before that I use a lot when I'm holding them above my head. That pain only lasts as long as I'm doing it, though, and I'm sure it will fade with time and exposure. I need new shoes I can put cushioned insoles in. I've been told those will certainly help with my feet.

I want to give deep thanks to Goodwill (the job help branch) for helping me get here, and to Goodwill (retail) for hiring me, and to Robby for helping me get through the higher powered job search with my head high and confidence showing, despite being in grief over Pup, and for many, many other wonderful things that make me very happy, very often. And of course I would like to thank our mysterious friend from FetLife for helping Puppy grow and change and become not a pain in the ass.

And to all my friends and readers who have helped, or who have only witnessed the drama of my life, and elected to care about it... Thank you as well. I love you all.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

One More Last Conversation

(uncut conversation from my chat history on gmail, names censored out and timestamps removed)
(Pup's text is in yellow, mine is in red)



[Name Removed] is inviting you to use Google voice and video chat. Get started at http://www.google.com/chat/video

(16 minutes pass)
[Name Removed], I don't think you want to hear from me, but there are some things larger than you and I that need to be talked about
We've got six people waiting for us to put aside this nonsense and either figure out how we're going to do dnd, or not do dnd, without you, and we have the issue of my plane ticket to discuss
I don't know what you're talking about, but you might have considered it before you pushed the "leave" button. You're not my responsibility anymore.
I'm not here to assign blame, one way or another. We both made stupid decisions and held one another to words said in pain
I'm not asking you to do this for me
do it for [Name Removed] and [Name Removed] and [Name Removed] and [Name Removed] and [Name Removed]
Another word about it, and I'll block you here too.
Don't think I won't.
Anyone who wants to talk to me about D&D or anything else is perfectly free to do so on their own accord. They've got my Skype.
And if they don't, you can give it to them.

as for the issue of the plane ticket that was meant to bring me up there on my birthday, 15 days from now?
No-one told me about it.
Correct, it was my secret plan
huh, interesting that - crosse out the text
Yeah. Italics uses underscores.
Like this.

kk
so yes, when I said I could help out with the secret plan, I really meant it
I was prepared to be up there, come hell or high water
Too bad you broke it. Again. By acting out and I guess expecting to be rewarded for things there was no way I could possibly have known you were doing. Again.
No, I don't expect a reward, I should have been upfront and said why I was so upset
You do tend to have a habit of pushing me well past the breaking point right when you allegedly had something great around the corner.
you're right, I do, and that's because I get stressed about the great thing
I have no reason to believe you, Pup. Your "I'm leaving" was a bluff. A bluff to hurt and punish me.
As were threats to die that night.
As, I have no reason to disbelieve, is this.

The threats were real, and not meant to hurt you, I was trying to express how much I depended on the positives you did for me, and how, even upset like that, I knew they weren't worth losing
and I didn't stop myself from letting that happen
I got angry and vunerable
and I realize that cost me our relationship, if we still had one at that point
I think that's why I kept going, I felt like it was lost anyway
but regardless, I'm not here to ask for that back
I feel like you've made it clear that you don't care about me in that way anymore, and if that's not the case, feel free to speak up
what I'm here to ask is, does the last six months really have to go up in smoke like this, over something as pointless as this?
your feelings aren't pointless
but in a more rational state of mind, to me, me being second or first is pointless
what matters, and what should have mattered at the time, was that you put any time into me
Come to the point, you fuck. If you have practical matters to discuss, discuss them before you lose the chance. Or you will. You have been warned.
I want to go back to being friends. I know I hurt you, and I can't excuse that. I want to believe you still care about me, and that's why I spent the last few days thinking about what all of this cost me. I can't learn anything if I'm not let back in, and it's not your job to let me learn anything, but what you said that night seemed to me to be an indication that you hoped i learned from my mistakes and fixed them
Three.
Three?
*nods, and glares calmly*
+is worried that there is now a limit on how much time I have, or how many words I can say+ I shouldn't have blocked you, and I shouldn't have said it would be permanent. What I needed, and I see it now and didn't then, was time away from you, to appreciate you properly again. I got addicted to having you around, and I was paniciking at even the slightest reduction, not thinking that it would be far worse to go without you, because you can't be replaced
Two. *snarls softly, wonders if you've ever played KOTOR*
I have, and if I have a right to ask, could you please explain what the counting is for, so that I know where I'm making a mistake (unless the point is pattern recognition)
It seems like it might be every time I ask for you to come back into my life, but I'm unsure
I am counting down. I reach zero, you're blocked. Practical matters, Pup. None of this groveling.
thank you. the practical matter is that I miss doing things like hanging out watching Grimith with you, playing Dnd and Diablo 2 with you, and just having someone smart to talk to, and I'm here to ask if we can have that back, or if even that is gone forever
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pRziqt-LqY
Which one of us is the dumped?
I wouldn't blame you or say you're wrong eithr way
Who's the one asking and groveling for forgiveness?
I am.
You figure it the fuck out.
+chuckle+ I think that, in the context of this, it was you
you'r the one who I think was hurt the most
I'm not sure I see it.
You were trying to make things work for me, bending over backwards to help me, when I was being a bitch and clawing at you and ran
I was being an ass, and I thought I was doing the right thing by up and leaving, but I should have said that, not turned it into a threat
One.
/me sighs.
I have something for you.

Yes?
There was a song I wanted to sing you, remember? That I thought you could really stand to hear. This is that song. Video, then lyrics page.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUlHcehNRPQ
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/d/dave+matthews+band/pig_20036493.html
The night you left me, I was afraid you might die before hearing it.
Because I was a moron and still took you seriously enough to believe it could happen.

you weren't a moron serp
[Name Removed] found me
If you want me to believe a fucking thing you say, prove it.
tell me how to prove he caught me crying up in my room about you, muttering that I was going to die, and I will do it
If you can't prove it, then how convenient, and congratulations, you are the next contestant on The Price is Fucked.
I didn't mean that
I want to know what proof would be sufficent for you
I'll provide it, I just need to know
To let you go, I had to get angry enough at you to cross the line of "Die then. Just don't do it in front of me."
I am not coming back.

That's what I was here to find out, if you ever thought you could
if we coudl be friends in two and a half hyears
years*
Ask me in two and a half years.
Ask me maybe if I made any progress on the fucking Secret Plan.

Will you have?
I mean, the way I'm hearing it
you don't intend to anymore
How the fuck do I know? Maybe if [Name Removed]'s an adventurer too and wants to take your place. Or some other fuck two or three more fucking heartbreaks down the road.
ah, secret plan, but without me
I don't know how to say what I'm feeling right now without sounding like I'm groveling
Well, I don't actually expect you to contact me in two and a half years.
Then don't speak.
You're out of chances.

You give me a day and time, and I'll contact you, on the nose, as long as I know you'll respond
what I won't do is wait around for months and months, never knowing if you're coming back
I'm not coming back.
I'm going the fuck forward.
I'll be a different person in two and a half years.

Then how am I supposed to learn and fix this?
That's on you.
Maybe you should grovel and ask [Name Removed].

the problem is between you and I
I can't fix it if I'm not allowed to try
And I can't make you let me fix it
*sighs out, and twitches her nose, and taps her foot*
Groveling won't help me fix the problem, so I'm going to be blunt about it, and honest
You gave me a chance on valentines, and I blew that
Another around my birthday.
And I lost my last chance two weeks before mine
I ask you to give me until that
until the 20th
to fix this
Life sucks, dunnit.
You don't get free points for bad timing.

I realize, and if I ever did, I definitely used them up
You saw I was making progress the last week or so
I want to show you the progress I made from the lesson you gave me in the last few days
You wanna show up in a plane, I wouldn't have a place to put you, but I could probably figure something out. You going to show up in a plane, presumably at the London airport, tell me when. Day and hour. I'll meet you there. But expect to be searched for weapons and a high level suspect of intent to kill out of vengeance. If you're bluffing, and you've got nothing, don't talk to me. If you piss me off, I will block you, and if you can't give me a date and time on account of being blocked, any semblance of a plan is off.
If you don't already have your ticket, or it isn't nonrefundable, I don't recommend bothering.

If you really think I would lay a hand on you, under any circumstancse, or that I could sneak such a weapon onto a plane, there are other issues at work here, but aside from that, I ripped up the ticket
*laughs like a bark*
Bye, then, Pup.

Serp...
I will buy another if that' what this is about
if that's what it takes to fix this, I will
Nothing will fix this. I'm done waiting.
You failed.

waiting for what?
Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it, right now
For you to become worth my time.
You failed.
Fuck off.

And me willing to do anything for you doesn't count for anything in this?
Zero.

Friday, May 3, 2013

Loss, Growth, Change

The Pup has left.

He threatened to block me, and I held him to it. One does not make such threats against me and then not follow through. We are partners no more, although if I said he was not still someone I love, I would be lying. May his path shine, always, even though he cannot see it. Glory, victory, to the Sunchild. Away from me, where his parasitic claws can bite and sting no more.

I called upon a bunny boy who catalyzed his departure to walk with me while I dealt, coldly, silently, with my anger, guilt, rage and conflictedness. The bunny boy supplants him after all, it seems, just as he had feared, and indeed, because he had feared, and let the fear turn him into a lashing, biting beast.

Who is the rabbit? Another fur, of course. Local, clever... He tells me my brain is very sexy and challenges him to think constantly. I'm pretty happy about that. I won't say a great deal about him, as I wouldn't want to out him to anyone. That's his own job. It seems that perhaps, though, he may be my gateway into the community properly, as it were.

I have been scattered, as you might expect, but doing job search stuff. Today, as I write this, I am procrastinating on approaching some people in person for information. It will be difficult and stressful, fraught with my anxieties. I can do it... And I intend to do it today. We'll see what happens.

Stay tuned. Life continues to get progressively more interesting.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Sex Without Shame, Death Without Fear

"Just thinking out loud... 
I don't mean to dwell on this dying thing"

It's a shot of bloody perspective reminding me
that regardless of WHAT
I think and have experienced, regardless
of how much I do and how many hours in smug solitude
thinking I'm better, or smarter, or more spiritual
than you
That I know, that I can face it
ALL
It still remains more true
What is said in the book, title forgotten:
You truly feel, don't you,
that you are now completely disillusioned?
That may prove to be the most enduring
illusion
of them all.

And I am dying. Very slowly.
A decay no medicine, no surgery can erase
Time and entropy will take my place
and fill it with strangers
With a shot of bloody perspective...
An urgency that will fade with time
That I could die now while I'm ready
equipped with a fullness of uncanny surprise
the understanding that nothing
no matter how great could prepare me
The shock now is greater...
I wonder, if only,
Walking with giants, lit by a star
I would know now, to know,
to have no expectations...
Until the next moment,
of bloody perspective,
How far?

It may be harder to face living and knowing
that I will forget, and find boredom again,
a lack of perspective...
I wonder to myself, if the impossible can be done...
Not to deny death... Yes, that exactly.
NOT to.
What seems it should be within the reach of the mind...
I'm not sure it is:
To face Sex without Shame,
And Death without Fear.

Friday, April 19, 2013

A Forest of Sticks

I did two hours of job searching on Kijiji this Tuesday... It must have been effective. I had an interview yesterday morning, and was requested to go to two this morning. I had an offer to make some money distributing flyers to mail boxes, and have a training day next Thursday.The flood of responses is unprecedented. However, I don't really know how to ace the interviews yet. I hope I will do well in some of them. I am signed up for Job Finding Workshop Thursday afternoons at Goodwill and I have a one to one appointment next Wednesday with one of the staff there. I met an interesting and dynamic person at the workshop that I chatted to about Pokemon and D&D and got the contact information of so we could talk more. I'm going to have to practice promoting myself and answering interview questions at my mirror.

The weather has gotten warmer and it really feels like spring now. Pleasant breezes and warm sun dominate the weather. I got a sun burn while handing out flyers for 45 minutes on Wednesday. Despite the warmth, though, no leaves are on the deciduous trees yet. The evergreens are, as ever, green, but wherever I would expect foliage, I see a forest of sticks. It feels mildly disconcerting, but perhaps it is not time for them to be budding yet.

In other news, I have started a new hobby I've been meaning to take up for some time, Let's Playing. For the first time ever there are uploads on my YouTube page. I'm playing a game called Heroine Iysayana, which is a trilogy of JRPG spoofs make in RPG Maker available for free. There are a couple of other LPs of it online already, but at this point, it's become such a popular hobby that it's very hard to find games that haven't been done. Regardless, I'm having fun, despite the strange quirks of my system's audio and trying to figure out how to get the game to behave properly and how to record both game and microphone sound without either being too loud or having to deal with multi-channel recording and editing I don't know how to do yet. So far, I realize my recordings are rough, but I am having fun anyway.

I've been very busy, and I have to go out to my interview soon, but I really wanted to update this and let anyone who reads it know what's been new in my life. Perhaps I'll soon have work... really, this time... and be able to tell you about my new job soon. Here's hoping.

Thank you for taking the time to read my words. Please do feel free to comment if you have anything to say. Despite getting a modest stream of views now, apparently, I still don't have a single comment on any of my blog posts.

Monday, April 15, 2013

Rumination

It is nearly 3 in the morning, in a week in which I've been in bed long before midnight every day. I have a meeting tomorrow... Not with OW, not a job interview... A meeting with my worker at Goodwill. I am, for some reason, terrified, and although I know in my mind that there is no reason whatsoever to expect he will be anything less than impressed and encouraging at how much I have accomplished, learned, and done over the past few months, what I actually expect in my heart is to be told that I am an utter failure at job searching and at life no matter how hard I try. I have been feeling a deep malaise for the past two days, drifting between a depressed despondency and the edge of panic. I'm quite aware of it, and it's driving me crazy. I know I'm being irrational, but the capacity I seemed to have a couple of weeks ago to simply stop seems to have evaporated somewhere. Could it have something to do with the two consecutive days last week that I missed taking my pill because I'd forgotten to get more of them? Am I just really this insecure about not doing everything the way my Goodwill workshops advised me to? Is this a hellish conspiracy between my menstrual cycle and my self-destructiveness to throw me into the most hormonal mess I'll be in all month at a very important time?

None of my progress has been undone... And yet it all seems empty. I can repeat in my mind that I've come a long way and done a great deal, I can list my accomplishments - among them the fact that I've gotten two shifts of paid freelance work from my job searching... and none of it is enough for my inner critic. Why? I was capable of being so self-assured last fortnight...

I think I know why. I spent a modest chunk of Thursday and Friday last week job searching online, and it was completely fruitless. I tried posting ads for service on Kijiji, and got three responses: one asking if I was interested in a pure commission job from home, which I am not, and the other two, one duplicated across two ads, from characters who read as sexual predators seeking prey significantly less wary and streetwise than I. This abject failure and reminder of the dark side of humanity has been a harrowing and exhausting experience and has drained heavily on my hope. That's probably got a great deal to do with it. I feel I've been doing everything wrong because as of this writing, my last attempt was a horrid failure and it leaves me feeling incompetent and doomed.

Hopefully, then, moving past this to some other try, probably using a slightly different medium, will refresh and reinvigorate me. I am glad I was able to identify the seed of my malaise. Now, powers willing, may I move past it, and present myself and my accomplishments with the pride I deserve in my meeting?

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Happiness

You know...

Over the last month or more... I've been... noticing how happy I am. I've been appreciating the love and support of my friends. I've been trusting that things will turn out okay and I'll get where I need to be eventually without rushing. I've been enjoying my humble home with my freecycled furniture.

I finally have a computer now that functions well enough to be well worth having. No substantial lag unless it's actually trying to do something difficult like stream. It cost me $20 from a fellow at an organization apparently called VPCC. I haven't been to that link, as I'm not on Facebook, but the man who sold me the computer linked me there. This computer was an upgrade after he gave me an older one for free, but it was so laggy that I could feel my blood pressure rising every time it took more than a second to register I'd moused over or clicked something or tried to open a window.

This one works smoothly and is well worth the $20 I paid for it. After so long using the hacked-up laptop and two days with the archaic tower, it feels so liberating and gleeful just using my scroll wheel to go down webpages and having it respond in realtime. I giggled to myself like a maniac to Pup about how I could scroll now, and felt slightly unhinged, while I was running D&D on Maptools for him, using a random map from Myth-Weavers, and needed to find the relevant part of the map key for a new room.

Speaking of Pup... It's been half a year now.
It... seems like so long, and yet so short.
Lots of progress has been made, and we are being better at interacting in ways that are healthy and happy for both of us. He still occasionally falls into fits I find utterly unbearable and I still sometimes take his weird and unreliable tone as a signifier of emotion and end up offended and upset about something he didn't mean and argues I know better than to take to heart. But... it's less frequent and less serious, less shattering. We're both getting better at being easy on each other.

My birthday yielded happy support from my patron, who gave me a gift card for Shopper's Drugmart and a warm brown vest. My mother also sent me a scratchy archaic tunic and a pair of wrap-around pants. I've never worn wrap-around pants before, and the design seems rather bizarre to me... but clever and playful.

I was able to enthuse happily to my counsellor the last time we spoke, and had many good things to say. That I've been talking to my mother again, that I find moments where I'm ruminating or running away and I stop... That the Pup I nearly broke up with two months ago is with me still and while it's far from perfect, there is love and happiness and sweetness there.

My request for funding for steel-toed work boots and a hard hat went through and was fulfilled in full, but I haven't actually gone out to get them yet. For the moment, I'm being lazy. But I will get around to it in time.

Taking advantage of a sale at Shoppers, and the gift card I was given, I now have a small supply of chocolate ice cream, and it's a real treat to have available from time to time.

I've been asked to dinner on Friday and have a date in about an hour... When did I become so popular, I wonder? Heheh... Strange and wonderful things.

I got a phone call from my dad today. He had a habit of cutting me off while I was talking, but nevertheless, we had a good and amiable chat. It's nice to hear from him again. The Daddy Dude seems to be doing well. Hippy dippy philosopher of sorts, as always. "May your path always shine." You too, dad. You too.
So much love. So much happiness. Has the elusive dream been reached?

Find out on the next exciting episode...

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Arrrgh!!

Well. That could have gone better.

I realize that not everyone may have the context for that remark. Let me fill you in. I had a job interview today. 'Nuff said? Well too bad, I'm going to say more anyway.

I had been sending a lot of applications to this company on their own special online job board thingamajig, and happily enough, someone actually called me - it happened to be while I was about to walk into the food bank, a few days ago, so I did a phone interview outside, and it went well. I took a while to think before answering some questions and it was hard to hear the lady on the phone, but we got through it. I just needed her to repeat a few things. And she set me up an appointment to go to an interview today. Great!

I spent the weekend looking forward to it, thinking, relaxing, arguing with my boyfriend as usual and rolling up random D&D characters. It's been a while since I've done that. I went price shopping online, and attempted to do so in person, but that didn't work out too well, for hard hats and steel-toed shoes, as the phone interviewer had informed me I'd need them for work if I got the job. I sent my price quotes from the internet to Ontario Works requesting funding for job search related equipment... and told a bunch of my friends about it with excitement , getting nearly half a dozen people wishing me good luck and success.

And now the day has come. I had a good feeling about this, and was optimistic... even confident! I got my references printed and called up the only one I hadn't contacted by email to notify her and make sure handing her name in was all okay. Yep, no problem there. I gave myself a bit of praise after the phonecall, despite being in a public place where people could hear me: "You did it! Yay! Well done..." Phonecalls always stress me out. Calling people I haven't spoken to in ages, much moreso.

I dressed up really nice in a collared shirt tucked into snugly fitting black pants. I cleaned my shoes, which had gotten a bit grungy, and even tried buffing them with a rag and some vegetable oil in the hopes it would bring out a bit of a shine. I realize this is not normally the way to oil shoes, but it doesn't seem to have turned out badly. I prepared my padded folder with my resume and references, packed an assortment of things I'd need into the purse I never use unless I want to look professional, donned my business jacket and headed out to get there early... So early, in fact, that I had half an hour to kill before showing up, so I hung out in a nearby bank, chatting with Damon on the phone, and used the bathroom at a restaurant, until it was a quarter to my appointment, and I headed in.

And the place was pleasant, and the many staff members I saw made every move to be friendly and helpful. My interviewer showed up with a warm and welcoming smile and brought me with polite smalltalk to the staff training area, a cozy place with lockers and paper notes stuck on cabinets, and a handful of smiling workers on break. We sat down in a small room to do the interview proper, two interviewers with bundles of papers and pens to take notes, and me, across the table from them. I handed them my updated resume and pointed out that I had taken a First Aid and CPR course since submitting the one online that they already had. Then came the questions. For the first several, I gave good, solid answers that I'm sure were pretty close to ideal. How do I present myself to customers, knowing I'm the last contact they may have with us? With a smile. Always with a smile. The interviewer who'd come to get me seemed to beam while writing my answers, or whatever other observations she was making, down.

I feel I should have mentioned something specifically about dealing with the specific complaints when asked what I'd do if a customer approached me rudely with complaints about a product, rather than only saying I'd take a breath, talk to them calmly, and try to smile anyway if I could, get through it... But that wasn't the big mistake.

I was asked how I've dealt with tasks that required both speed and accuracy, and I froze for a moment, unable to think of one. This would have been fine, if I hadn't grasped for the first answer to come to mind: cleaning... And spoken about how in housekeeping, I was great at being thorough, which makes for a comparable attribute to accuracy, I suppose, but could lag behind sometimes... But getting faster was probably just a matter of learning. After that answer, my interviewers said they had no more questions, and closed their interview booklets, though there looked to be quite a few pages left, and the announcement was abrupt. They asked me if I had any questions myself, and I was startled and grasped again... So I asked about how long it would be before I should expect to hear back from someone, and who I'd be hearing back from if I was contacted. Which is a fair question. I'm not disappointed about that. We chatted a little about the extra paperwork that hiring season meant for them, and I was escorted to the exit. It wasn't until I left the building that I realized I'd forgotten to hand them the sheet of references I'd gone out of my way to contact and prepare, and we hadn't touched on the two pieces of I.D. I had been asked to bring to the interview... And hadn't someone said something about "training", not just an interview?

Arrgh... I guess I just got nervous, and flubbed up. I felt embarrassed failure heavy on my shoulders as I left... I automatically turned toward the bus stop... But turned myself around again to buy some milk I knew I needed from a grocery store which happened to be right next to it... And after walking past the store again, and half way down the block... I realized I really was running away in a panic, ruminating that I'd ruined everything and it was too late to go back now.

So I stopped, and I turned around again, and I walked back to the store, and approached the lady at customer service that I'd approached originally, no doubt blushing, and admitted I'd forgotten to give the interviewers my reference sheet. She called them for me, took it, and promised to give it to them, and I skulked off again... but at least it was possible now that my work updating the sheet and calling my old volunteer manager wasn't entirely wasted. I left the building for a second  time feeling like I had failed, but at least won the booby prize for facing my fears and facing up to a silly mistake... This is probably cognitive behavioral therapy.

So, let me take a moment to review my performance here, and note on the failures, and on the successes of today's interview...

Good:

Preparation: I kept an eye on how much time I expected to have throughout the day, and got everything together quite well. I made sure I had everything I needed before I headed out the door, including blank thank-you cards and a pencil and eraser, in the handbag I prepared rather than taking my less professional looking backpack. I even had a slip of paper with where I was going by address and sketched map, who I was to ask for at what desk, and a phone number to call in case somehow I was late and needed to get in touch. I had taken care to eat and drink, and use the bathroom, before leaving, so that I wouldn't be interviewed on an empty stomach or while uncomfortable, and I got a healthy dose of pep talk from my friends before heading out. If I could go to all my interviews so well prepared, that would be an excellent thing.

Presentation: When I realized how casually all the employees were dressed, I felt overdressed in my blazer. Afterall, I had been instructed that a casual business shirt and pants were probably what I should try for. So, I stuffed my blazer into my handbag, and felt professional and well-dressed, but not quite so needlessly fancy. I took my hair down when I walked into the building, having brushed it thoroughly at home, and I smiled and spoke politely to everyone I met, thanking my interviewer, for instance, when she held the door for me. I remembered to make frequent eye contact during the interview, and while my smile probably flagged at some point, or else seemed nervous, I am sure I was smiling.

Thank-You Cards: Not just bringing them with me, but I stopped and sat at a table to write a short and casual but heartfelt thank you with good wishes for the coming year and hopes to see you again at work, to each of the two interviewers, being sure not to make them too alike so it didn't seem I just copied them from one another. I was already aware I'd messed up, and tried the thank-you card thing anyway. I deserve credit for that. It was definitely a good thing.

Bad:

References WITH Resume: I forgot to hand them my references because I waited to be prompted for them and then forgot. I should have handed them in with or immediately after my resume, without waiting. Then, we could have spoken about that then. I need to remember that it's okay to start the references conversation rather than waiting for someone else to.

An Answer... Any Answer...: Faced with the thick silence, I panicked and didn't take the time to think thoroughly before I spoke. I remember going over this in a training thing once a long time ago. Yes, the silence is daunting, but don't feel the need to fill it... It's okay to take a few whole minutes to calmly think about the question, particularly when it's about what I have dealt with in the past. That's what I needed to do here to keep my composure, and come up with an example that doesn't make me look like I'd need training to achieve basic competence. Tasks that require accuracy and speed... Um... like cleaning? No, dumbass, like making change. The thing that applies to the cashier position you're applying for. Which I am fantastic at doing quickly without making any mistakes, by the way. That's why my cash till totals back at Saint Vincent de Paul's were often exactly, to the penny, what they were supposed to be at the end of the day.

Too Cool: I think my smalltalk may have been a bit forced. I wish I'd worked more with the talk the interviewers gave me, and maybe asked some casual questions of them, relaxed a little more, and let myself feel personal with them a bit, to be more at my ease. I wish I'd voiced my thoughts that the staff training room was really neat and that the whole place felt incredibly friendly. I was trying too hard and being too careful, I really was.

And in the end... Well. I screwed up. But it's not the end of the world, right? While making some macaroni and cheese after coming home with painfully frostnipped fingers, and thinking about this, I found The Roses of Success wandering around unexpectedly inside my head. I... dealt with that rather well, in the end, didn't I? I caught myself running away, and marched back, red-faced but ready to make what reparations I could. While heading home, I focussed on allowing myself to feel embarrassed and think on what exactly I'd done wrong, without panicking and ruminating on how I'd never be able to do it right. I was all set up for success, and ended up with failure... And this means that I have got a good handle on preparation, and need to practice and improve my execution. I impressed and got an interview with my resume... A couple now, actually. That bit seems to be working. Now I get to make this set of mistakes. And learn from them.

I did always like that song...

Froom the ashes oof disaster groow the roses of success~!

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Singin' With My Sisters

Thursday is Music Jam day from 11 to noon at My Sister's Place. I'm not really there often, but I've been there and enjoyed the music a few times. I usually stand against a pillar and sing along, as everyone else does  sitting around the tables, while whoever's at the microphone sings and the accompanists play piano and/or ukulele...

Skill levels vary. Anyone's welcome to take the mic. I never have here before. I know I'm more than good enough that my singing would be enjoyed... but there's too much chance of choking or freezing up, either due to my social anxiety, or because I'm too touched by the song to keep my voice steady. It's a genuine risk with some tunes, especially Hallelujah.

Today, near the end of the session, I actually got up myself to sing a song. Yesterday, by the Beatles, one of a reasonable but small handful of songs in the Music Jam songbook that I know, and like, well enough to be interested in singing. It took a little steel, but wasn't as hard as it might have been, and much like playing piano, I got a fair few compliments afterward. No complaints. This time, anyway. Someone who had been trying to get me to sing gave me a double thumbs up from across the room, and I think I heard the pianist say through the crowd that I made her day. She did definitely mention that no-one sings that song, despite how beautiful it is, because the range is so broad it's almost inevitably either too high in the highest parts or too low in the lowest ones. It's true. I had to shift awkwardly between chest and head voice to sing it, but I remembered the tune and rhythm and enjoyed singing.

It was a little awkward also because I couldn't hear my voice coming through the speaker while I was behind the mic, so I couldn't tell how well it was coming through. Ah, well. What's important, and true, is that I stood up and took the mic for once rather than singing in the background behind someone else. It was... nice. And probably counts as something towards cognitive behavioral therapy, one of many steps to push my comfort levels and beat back anxiety one moment and one decision at a time.

I also got my hair trimmed and got a big load of laundry done while I was here today. Keeping things in order and modestly maintained... Things keep going. The haircut looks simple and flat-edged to me, but I trust it's not bad. The haircut lady was pleasant and polite, and it was nice being combed. She took care only to cut a little bit, just enough to clean up and get rid of the split ends, rather than shortening it significantly. My hair is still very long, and probably doesn't look that different. I hope the slight improvement in neatness will make me look a little more professional and neat.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Old Battles

Whoa. I just got through writing an email to my mom. It probably went on for about three pages of ancient hostility and ranting that I have badly needed to say directly to her for... far, far too long. I rather doubt it's the road to peace, but it may be a fog that needs to be cleared before I can travel that road. Despite the weight I've thrown her, I have high hopes, and it is a relief to finally voice some of my resentment after so long. Who knows? It may not be too late.

I'll try to brace myself for an equally hostile response and be forgiving toward it, even if it's shrouded in words of sweetness and steeped in the role of the victim. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Dare the conflict. Ride it out.

Maybe this is the start of something vital and important. We'll see.

Friday, March 8, 2013

One Man's Trash

I stayed up all night again. This time it isn't Puppy's fault, though he contributed, for the last few hours of it. I wanted to make sure to be up for an event that was happening today right on my block: the Impact Junk Solutions Open House. The company is a garbage removal service, but it seems that when they pick up trash that isn't as trashy as usual and may be of interest to someone, they stash it in their warehouse and occasionally let anyone who is in need of furniture or other household goods come with their cars, trailers, or on foot, and take away anything they would like from the collection of thrown-away items. I've been needing furniture since moving in, so naturally, I went. I was not disappointed with what I found. The staff helped me load some furniture I could not have carried into a shopping cart to trundle home and back.

Not everything made it inside in one piece, sadly. A nice chest of drawers I'd found took too much shock to the joints while I was awkwardly maneuvering the heavy thing down the stairs by myself, and the frame came apart, nails and screws having been jarred loose. One of the nubby plastic legs also broke. The drawers themselves and the rollers, though, are completely sound. I think with a hammer and some new nails, and perhaps a pair of pliers, I can salvage it and return it to stability and usefulness, though it won't be as pretty as it was, due to places in the sides where the nails ripping away tore chunks off the edge of the particle board.

More successful was the transport of a rather tall and skinny little wooden desk, with four drawers in it. It lost a strip of surface false wood texture on one side of the top, and got slightly scuffed, but is still very pretty and perfectly stable and solid, as a desk should be. I brought home a short, shabby office chair and a thick pillow to raise the effective level of the seat, too, and now I actually have a functional chair and desk for my ridiculous excuse for a laptop... and for a better one, once I am able to get one.

One more piece of furniture was amongst my loot, a squat, slightly bulky end table with a single hollow storage space inside, accessed by decoratively carved double doors, made to look like dark red wood and also good and stable.

Other items I brought home (that made it without breaking):
2 candle holders
1 large red candle
1 plastic basket
1 woven basket
1 dollar store travel mug that seems new
2 large stacking paper trays
1 square cookie tin
1 nearly new board game of uncertain entertainment value called "HearMeOut!"
5 garish pink striped bedsheets
2 garish pink patterned pillowcases
1 long peach curtain
2 other bedsheets
1 other pillowcase
1 small pink throw blanket
11 saucers
9 large plates
4 small plates
2 teacups
2 shot glasses
6 bowls of varying sizes
1 segmented snack dish
1 juice pitcher
1 small ice cube tray
1 matching set of salt & pepper shakers
11 drinking glasses, assorted plastic and glass
2 small kitchen storage containers
1 wine glass
1 lid that doesn't seem to go with anything
1 lightbulb that happened to be in a box of kitchenware

All in all, I feel rather accomplished, and am quite happy with this haul of stuff. Most of it clearly worn, all of it free, almost all of it definitely useful to me. I think I will probably use the garish pink striped sheets to make triangular bandages for first aid, and then if there's ever a need, I can tie people up with garish pink striped arm slings.

P.S: Apparently there was so much stuff I inevitably had to forget to list some! I also got a box of assorted coathangers, probably around 30 count, and a bar of Irish Spring soap, still in its box.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Status Update

Yeah, there's been some stuff to talk about, but I just haven't been wanting to sit down and write to you guys. Almost a month ago, I broke up with Pup on Valentine's Day. I didn't even realize the timing. We talked a lot, I decided on the terms of One Last Chance, and consented to stay. But he still annoys me almost every day. Over the past two weeks, he's been breaking down after listening in on a conversation between me and a friend of his apparently taught him that despite his pretenses to morality, to logic, to rationality, he doesn't know a goddamn thing. Now for the last two days, something seems to have broken, and his answer to everything is saying "I don't know"; blaming everything on his Aspergers, on overexposure to mercury, on the stimuli he's responding to... including me... and lashing out.

For about a week, I've picked up Fitocracy again; I've been planking, but not really anything else. It's too early to say whether I'll stay with it. I do manage to do it for a while even when I'm really not very into it, though... I just tend to collapse after a minute if my spirit isn't in it or I'm otherwise worn out.

I returned to Writing.com and wrote a few contest entries, the first of which won an on-site prize. The contests I'm entering have a 300 or 100 max word count, and make great practice for cutting stories down to the vital core, making them succinct. I did fall into a jealous habit of comparing my work to the other entries, though, when I didn't win. Or worse, calling into question the taste and legitimacy of the judges. I might post my work here, some of it. I might not.

I've also been doing a little bit of sketching and artwork. For a while, while things were going well with Pup, I sketched him in anime style, something I've never really managed to work in before, and it seemed to go really well. I think of, or say, something funny, and I do a quick sketch of it, sometimes.

This week, I finally got my First Aid/CPR certification, Level C. I felt noble learning the material, and it was a bit of work, mostly because Pup kept me up very late so I was doing the 8-hour courses on four and three hour nights of sleep. The course itself was fun and seems very useful. If I'm ever in an emergency situation, I think I will feel much more confident dealing with it now. There was some confusion with my certificate card, though. The course instructor accidentally filled out the expiry date and the issue date as the same, so that I would be certified for 24 hours, rather than three years. I brought up the mistake to Goodwill, and my card was redone properly. I was told the other staff members laughed at her for the mistake, though that bit didn't make me feel any better.

Yesterday I had a mild, prolonged anxiety attack, apparently prompted by a bunch of people trying to help me with my questions at Goodwill, and someone answering other questions a bit shortly, since he had a lot of different things to do. The attack lasted over two hours and I felt hostile and feeble throughout it. Then came home to Pup and fought for a long time about him failing to aplogize to me or take my feelings into account even when I make them clear, and me being irrational and unstable to a point that he feels he has to be afraid of my leaving him any time he does anything at all.

Today, from the time I woke up, despite doing my planking and having a shower, and despite close to twelve hours of sleep, it felt like the world was slowed down. When I listened to my music, it all sounded slightly but uncannily flat, and I didn't care about it, even though it was music that was usually very powerful to me. I went to Goodwill to retrieve a flash drive I'd forgotten there, and came home immediately. It was obvious to me that I needed to just rest, today, and recover from my stresses... my body and despondent mind were telling me something was wrong and I needed to tend to that before anything else.

It seems much of this, my own participation in all sorts of other activities, including some active job search work, practicing various forms of my artistry... was largely prompted by Pup's computer being fixed, meaning he now has something to spend time with without me having to be there to engage him constantly. The fact that it's now, after this, that his responses to me have seemed to step up again in aggression and disrespect has some very disappointing implications that now that he doesn't need me as much, there's a lot more dissatisfaction and hostility he may have been holding back, that's now out. Perhaps having what he wanted has actually made his mental and emotional condition worse, because he can junkie out on video games and avoid real world responsibilities as much as he wants. I don't really know. Whatever's going on, I don't think this will last long.

P.S: I... just discovered something weird on my Writing.com account. Apparently someone spent $20 on me to get me three months of upgraded account. It was an anonymous gift, with the message: "Keep reviewing!". I... feel kind of stunned. It's weird that some random person on the internet would spent money on me to get me to keep doing reviews of writing... I wonder, is this how Grimith feels?

Monday, February 4, 2013

Moody Blues

I have been in a bad mood for a while. I have not gotten to training yet... My on the job training has been delayed a week due to a store that apparently decided not to host an awesome promotion, and there therefore being no on the job to train in.

Also, my ex who I've been badgering to come and hang out and help me practice my script, by reading along while I say it without looking and letting me know if I miss anything, has yet again decided he had to bail because his damaged back is giving him problems and he doesn't want to spend much time out and about as a result. This is profoundly frustrating. At this point, the most useful form of practice would really need the participation of someone else.

I've been generally angry for quite a few days, and often can't pin down a particular reason why. Just little things: There aren't enough groceries, I'm impatient to get to on-the-job training and the company doesn't seem to ever follow through with anything, even sending me a phone number they said they'd send me... Maybe I'm PMSing? Puppy's having a meltdown and saying that while he loves me and is satisfied with me, he's pining for a feeling of choice and control over his relationships, the feeling that he has more options than this crazy girl who dropped out of the internet and came on to him or being alone. And given that he's Aspie and has a very hard time knowing how the hell to maneuver social stuff, he feels entirely stuck as to how to accomplish that sense of choice and control over his life.

I find it damn near impossible to take this gracefully in my recent state of mind.

Grr. Rargle. Ruff ruff ruff. I am a raging bloody tempest, sulking over here in a corner. I am a berserker queen who has been denied cake. Life sucks and I want a happy. Why I can no has!?