Validate Me Please

Have I been born or at some point rendered unable to detect an important tell between incredulity expressed out of pure and simple confusion, and incredulity expressed out of anger; frustration; exasperation?

Is there not a valid associative tie between incredulity and annoyance, then? I've seen a correlation too often for that to seem right.
It may have been emphasized harmfully by Mother.

Could Mother really be innocent after all, my understanding of her passive aggression false? No, I doubt it. There is some burden of responsibility that a mother should bear the brunt of maturity for with her child. That a lover should not have to bear the brunt of maturity for with a lover.
What, exactly?

I have felt a desperate need for, and lack of, validation for my interpretations of social interactions all my life. Having thought about that for a moment, yes, I believe all my life within useful memory.

Where is the sense that the validity of interpretation is to be assumed supposed to come from? Certainly, with my upbringing, it was undermined if not entirely destroyed. If I were to be allowed to assume that my interpretations were valid, Mother would have allowed me to defend myself from her passive-aggressiveness with logic. Which of course I did anyway, but it was continually invalidated at the point of my observations so that no argument I made could stick to her.
Narcissist. What have you done to me.

So I crave explicit validation of my interpretations as at least reasonable or understandable, and I crave it constantly. I become anxious and aggravated if it is not present and I begin to feel doubt.
What has this to do with incredulity? Mother often spoke to me in incredulous tones. From her, it seemed to mean that I was an unbelievably bad child. That my inconsideration and selfishness were so great that it was almost inconceivable I even existed. And so when she was angry at me, she would shout at me incredulously. How dare I question the love she undeniably had, while she complained at every juncture of what I was costing her and how much trouble I was that she put up with, and no matter how hard I hurt and raged and explained, trying to make her understand that she was hurting me, she never stepped down. Not once. Because she loved me, clearly.

So incredulity became the badge of "you horrid thing", to not back down became the abuse I was most used to, and letting me have my way became the golden grail I sought that represented the love I never got at home?

Perhaps, but of course I left home horribly twisted, and did not get my way often.

Things to learn and clarify:

To let me get my way is not what loving me is.
One can love me and not let me get away with shit.
One can not love me and let me get my way.
I know this, but the assumed lie may still be deeply ingrained in my emotional responses, moreso than for most.

Confusion is not inherently condemnation.
Confusion is not inherently condemnation.
Confusion is not inherently condemnation.
There are things someone may not understand about me other than how horrible I am.
An unfortunate number of people have the bad habit, but not everyone thinks something is bad just because they don't understand it.

What else?
The validity of my interpretations is assumed to be present, not absent, where no remark of it is made.
Gods, it's going to be a nightmare to reverse engineer that one. Geesus.

I Don't Know

a first draft

I ask you, what if I never stop
Just waiting for the shoe to drop
Will that bring it crashing down?
'Cause I got, scars that just never heal
Even with a love I deeply feel
I just can't find the bottom; which is deeper? Which is stronger?

And I fear that I do you wrong
Just by being a puzzle you can't solve
And I don't want to pull you along
Hoping you'll be the answer if there isn't one

I don't know if I believe in justice, fairness, peace or all that stuff anyway.
And even if I do I don't know if I'm really good enough to earn it anyway.

I ask you, what if I never change,
If I ache with dreams but stay in my cage
Will you ever tire of me here?
I expect my friends to change and grow
But sometimes I fear, it's funny though,
That I'm spinning my wheels and I'm getting nowhere.

Just waiting
To see some fruit grow
Where my hardest struggles tore the ground
And I'm waiting
And I don't know
How long it'll be now,
And whether you should wait with me or go back home.

I ask you am I going anywhere?
And if so, why am I still here?
I ask you why is everything so slow?
'Cause baby I don't know,
And I'm sorry, and I'm blind here, and I'm scared.

Returning From Vacation

I sit outside the Hamilton GO Station, the collar of my long coat made itchy by sweat, wool, and the pressure from the straps of my bags. This coat lost its last front button on the way down. It was already hanging loose, and clattered to the sidewalk when I got off the bus. Luckily, I noticed, and picked it up. I have it in my pocket. I idly wonder where I ever put the other ones, between drifting thoughts of Robby, house cleaning, and the politics that have sadly now come up with the one I came here to visit. My bus back to London will arrive in about 40 minutes at platform eleven. It seems to be one of the only platforms without an accompanying bench, but I sit outside anyway, on the cool cement. It seems crosslegged is more suited to writing anyway.

Robby will (probably) meet me at the London terminal, and from there, I dive back into a working routine. But let us hope, the break will help me bear my more difficult shifts with more perspective - and what changes we have set up will help. The bus arrives ahead of schedule. Will we load up and leave early? Well, it seems we will load up early. I have no objection to that.

So now, I will resume typing on my laptop. On Blogger itself, in fact. This is my first time using greyhound on-board Wi-Fi as far as I can recall. It seems humble but serviceable. I will likely use my laptop to listen to music and keep collecting my clickables for the ChickenSmoothie Hallowe'en Event. It's been keeping me attached to my laptop of late, a very effective Skinner box. The Lights On Lights Off forum game has been remarkably effective at filling out my wishlist. I finally have done some work on the adoptables I want to give out for it, and I have designed 13 "haunts" already... Although I have about 50 trick or treaters that I've promised treats already, so I still have a long way to go. I intend to deliver the first batch in the next day or two, and hopefully people will be patient while I get to all the waiting trick or treaters, and also complete the linearts for the three critter types I haven't finished yet.

Now I have become distracted, so I will leave this here as it is. Consider it my October update, I suppose. Fare thee well.

Scattered Rambles: September Update

I've been feeling like it's been a while since I've written. I've been feeling often very busy though, and use that as an excuse to do other things.

The fall sale happened at the store recently and was only slightly less successful than the last sale, which was record-breaking. I had a nine hour shift, and that was now... four days ago? I am planning a vacation soon, to combat an increasing sense of burn out. Robby and I are being transferred onto the same Ontario Works account. I am increasingly interested in cooking. The other day I bought $78 of Forgotten Realms fiction from Goodwill; 35 paperbacks and two hardcover books. Hopefully I will get around to reading a fair bit of it.

I am ever more anxious to see our roommate leave and the new one arrive. I have considered to myself whether I might still feel like the house is not my own, but if there is anything about the new roommate coming that should ease my fears it is that he is a naturally very gentle person, not inclined to be hostile over small matters at all.

I had a plan to design some Hallowe'en adoptable critters for a trick or treating community game on Chicken Smoothie, and drew up five line arts for it. I had already digitized one of them and made at least two dozen variations of the creature on it, when I dropped my laptop. No damage was immediately obvious; it had not powered down immediately and ran as usual for a couple more hours, but when it froze and I shut it down, I was unable to start it up again. It would not boot, even from a USB recovery OS my friends advised me how to set up (using Robby's computer).

Since then, I've been using my old, slow desktop again. It is frustrating; I cannot both run a game and play a video at once without disruptive lag. I plan to call the retailer's warranty line after work today (I have been unable to for the past week due to their Mon-Fry 9-6 hours conflicting with my work hours, but today I have an early shift). I have been entertaining myself by watching YouTube videos, but I download them first with clipconverter.cc; otherwise, they would be very choppy. I have also been playing Pretend You're Xyzzy more often with the guys, and I've been building cardcast decks to use in the games, based on my fandoms or on nothing in particular. I have three public decks that I have been working on: Grimith, Dwarf Fortress, and Serpent's Standard, which is where I put anything I think of that I don't mind sharing publicly and doesn't belong in the other two.

Flowers

I got this basket of flowers
in a photo album I bought -
it was there to be framed
on the front page, then replaced.
But when I took it out and changed it,
I had to pause and think.
It was quite a pretty picture,
throwing it out would be a waste.
So I'm sending you some flowers
(cuz you know I love you, babe)
And I really hope you like them,
though they probably weren't made
                        to be used this way.
                                            Serp

I made two copies of this homemade 'postcard', because there were two identical pictures of flowers, and I have sent them to two people who are very dear to me.

Hey.

I thought since I've been thinking about trying to blow the cover way off of my unintended internet secrecy, maybe I should write a greeting to anyone who clicks in search of more information.

I grew up in poverty in rural Ontario to a narcissistic mother and a father who was, and remains, a resourceful practitioner of simple sciences (heating, plumbing, welding, building makeshift insulated chicken shelters for winter out of old freezers and other junk, you name it) and a natural hermit. They've been split up and lived in two different places since I was, I think, two years old.

For most of my childhood, I split my time between their two households: one an old house on a hill on the outskirts of a village of 700 people, at least according to the sign; and the other a farm of sorts in a swampy wood - or a wooded swamp, whichever you prefer to think of it as, 10 km outside of that town.

I was bullied horribly through elementary school and high school, and grew up longing to travel and tell stories, to inspire and to educate. As soon as I graduated high school, I left home on an airplane and went overseas in search of love.

Since then I've traveled around quite a lot. I've hitch-hiked, and I've also taken a week long bus trip that stretched a great big diagonal line across Canada including a two day layover in Winnipeg, where I spent the night on the roof of a multi-level car park with a drunken hobo sleeping on my clothes.

For the last few years, I've settled a little bit in London. I guess I'm trying to find some sanity and repair the broken parts of myself so that the next time I head out, I won't be running away so much as charging out into the fray. This time, I hope I'll be leaving behind a safe, happy home base that I'll feel comfortable coming back to.

I know what it means not to have an established place to go, and I can tell you that having no place is better than being trapped in a terrible place. I know how it is to scavenge and scrounge, to keep a supply of water bottled from public fountains and bathroom sinks, get food only where I can get it for free, and I can tell you that you might be surprised the good food and respect you can get for nothing more than a little humility and the willingness to ask for help.

I have never begged strangers for anything, except directions, change to use a payphone and a token to ride a bus or a train.

I have sat with an instrument on a sidewalk and played for tips, though.

As my day job, I work in a thrift store operated by Goodwill.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing with my life yet. Hopefully, whatever it ends up being, it will involve a lot of poetry.

Pubic Hair

written on August 7th, 2014
& inspired by Ani DiFranco

When I'm in the bathroom
I have a way of wiping myself
that has a habit of plucking out pubic hairs on
just one side of my groin
And I could probably learn to change it
if I could see what I was doing
but for now I guess I'll live with it;
It's not important,
It's just annoying.


When something is pulled away
Oh time will ease the pain
When something is pulled away
Oh time will ease the pain


Ain't it funny how the little things
in life just get passed by
like the hangnails you pull off sometimes
and the crusty stuff that gets in your eye
There are some things we don't talk about
Things we would rather not discuss
And the silence just fades into the background
-until somebody has to die
!

Then suddenly all of the silence
comes crashing down around your ears
and you can scream and wail all you want to but
Nobody wants to hear
There are some things you don't mention
except alone and in quiet prayer
While lives get plucked from the human race like
Just so many pubic hairs


And every time we do not speak
We fill our world with silence
And every time we turn away
We fill our world with silence
And every thing we don't discuss
We fill our world with silence
And the silence will cover our graves


So when I'm in a dark room
I have a way of crying to myself
that has a habit of making the skin
around my eyes feel raw and burned
And I think we could learn to change this
If we could see enough to care
I just hope to god we learn
that some things are more important
than a hair


When something is pulled away,
(Every time we do not speak)
Oh time will ease the pain
(We fill our world with silence)
When something is pulled away,
(Every time we turn away)
Oh time will ease the pain
(We fill our world with silence)
When something is pulled away
(Every thing we don't discuss)
Oh time will ease the pain
(We fill our world with silence)
And the silence will cover our graves


And suddenly all of the silence
comes crashing down around your ears
and you can scream and wail all you want to but
Nobody wants to hear you 'cuz
There are some things you don't question,
except alone and in quiet prayer
while screams are brushed aside
like so many stray pubes on our underwear


Ain't it funny how the little things
in life just get passed by
like the hangnails I pull off sometimes and the
rash that crying leaves 'round my eyes
There are some things we don't talk about
Things we'd all rather not discuss
No matter how much or how little
they quietly affect all of us
And the silence just fades into the background
along with the best of us


When something is pulled away
Ah time will ease the pain
When something is pulled away
Ah time will ease the pain

~~~P.S: My own thoughts on presentation...

The parts in purple should be sung or spoken more quietly, more like a whisper,
and ideally blend into a sort of musical break between the sections in black.

Would like to have guest backup voice/s for
"We fill our world with silence" and possibly for all of the parts in purple,
while still singing/speaking solo the parts in black. Or white, as it generally appears on my blog.

The Art of Frugality

Of Poverty I was Made, and I Know the Art of Frugality.

Excerpts from a conversation on July 10th

My secret on saving? Well, primarily, I suppose, it's a combination of two things. Firstly, keeping expenses low, and secondly, putting my savings away in a distinct account and treating it as different from the rest of my budget - once I put money into my tax free savings account, I do not take it out again unless I really need to in order to cover necessities like groceries, rent and laundry. I try to put $100 into my savings account every paycheque, if I can, which is twice a month. To be fair, a large chunk of my savings also came from my tax refund this year. Goodwill employees get a free tax preparation with H&R Block, and my refund was modestly impressive, perhaps in part because I was only employed for half the year, and that only part time at minimum wage. I suppose I can claim it is to my credit that I was responsible enough to save the extra money instead of finding some personal fancy to spend it on.

I could also share some of the things I do to keep expenses low: I entertain myself with low- to no-cost hobbies like watching YouTube, playing inexpensive video games and collecting images from various sources, then making them into tokens compatible with the Maptool program (I'm sure to most other people, it would be boring busywork, but I enjoy it). I buy cheaper brands and types of food supplies and do some cooking with simple ingredients. I keep a casual eye out for decent sales on practical necessities like toilet paper, soap, shampoo, etc, and buy non-perishables when they are very cheap even if I don't need them yet. It helps that I work at a thrift store, where I can find a lot of useful things at low prices, like clothing, utensils, dishes... even furniture and a vacuum cleaner.

I also, incidentally, have a habit of collecting potentially useful things when I can buy them for a dollar or two at the Goodwill where I work, including: shoelaces, pencils, soap, spare earbud headphones, an extra USB mouse, greeting cards and notebooks (I have long since reached the point of confessing to myself that I collect stationery not so much out of a genuine belief I will use it all but as a little hobby because I like to), gift wrap, and generic presents or gifts suitable for friends of mine.

Heck, I'm a scavenger by nature. That helps too.

I rarely buy clothing or shoes, because I recognize that I have enough of both, and I have a habit of preferring to wear my clothing and shoes until they are ruined, in order to feel I have gotten full use out of them. An exception is socks, which I buy occasionally from the thrift store and have a large collection of stored away for the future, many of which I have never worn. There is a reason for this. With socks as well, I like to wear them out, and so there are a large number of pairs of socks I am doggedly trying to wear until they get holes in so that I can get them out of circulation. There is another reason. From time to time, especially before I started taking my mood-balancing medication, I used to wear a brand new pair of socks as a way to treat myself if I was having a hard day and wanted to go easier on myself than normal, or just felt in need of a little bit of luxury. I still occasionally do this, which puts a new pair into circulation. I only ever choose to wear a pair of socks I have never worn before with careful consideration. There's just something special about it.

I think one of the vital things I do is leave myself a buffer in my budget for little treats and shortcuts. New socks are wonderful, but sometimes one needs more to cheer one up, like eating out at Subway for a meal, or picking up a coffee at Tim Hortons during my lunch break at work. I strongly suspect that some people fail by telling themselves they won't spend money on these kinds of extras, and using it all up, then finding that the temptation is too great and spending money they don't have anymore on extras anyway. Then they feel guilty. Why feel guilty? I give myself permission to get treats from time to time, and I budget accordingly, saving a fair amount of my day to day budget for little pick-me-ups and also unexpected needs - like having to replace something that breaks, or buy cough medicine and throat lozenges, for instance. And if I turn out not to need it all, great! That just means I have more money for next month, and maybe I can afford to get something really neat! Or make a donation to somebody or something I want to support.

Sinking, Stewing, Waiting, Procrastinating

Hi, blog.

I, uh... I'm feeling pretty down on myself right now.

I've decided to start looking for a place I could move into on my own and afford by myself for a while but that Robby could also join me in after a few months. But I haven't started looking yet. When I'm not at work, I'm lying in bed, watching YouTube videos and doing largely useless things. My floor needs vacuuming, but I haven't done it yet. My clothes need washing, but I haven't done it.

I've started talking to people about the route toward more interesting duties and positions within Goodwill. Maybe my ambitions are making me scared again, and the fear is making me shut down and stop everything. I certainly am afraid. Of the risk, I suppose. I would like to move up, learn new things, make more money... But I'm afraid, so I haven't done it yet. What I have done is kept working, and otherwise remained mostly passive. I'm probably burning myself out.

My body... feels... weaker, these days. I become sore more easily. I am less eager to walk places. My left wrist often hurts at work. I feel fat and I feel as though I waddle slightly when I walk. It's probably due to poor diet, I suppose. I think I am fairly active at work, where I am always on my feet and usually walking about.

Three times I've phoned the psychologist who originally prescribed me my psych pills, seeking a follow-up appointment. I have received no calls back. I am beginning to think I may have to depend instead on getting a "family doctor", who may be able to make appropriate judgments on my drugs that the clinic doctor is not allowed to.

I've saved up a fair bit of money over the past several months, perhaps one advantage of my passivity, though I'm sure I could save money as well or even better and be more active by choosing activities that aren't costly.

I feel... weak... and uninspired...

I'm in another little rut, I guess.

I will wait for a way out.

Eventually I will pick up a search for a place I can afford to live by myself, with a kitchen I don't have to share, where I can be naked in my living room if I wish, a cheap place I can make my own. Maybe even still conveniently close to work, although I am starting to think a longer walk to and from work could do me good.

Hold out hope for me, readers.

Beauty in the Forest City

Walking home from work today, enjoying the feeling of clean clothes on my clean skin, I think I noticed for the first time just how many trees are in my neighborhood. It's a very green place, with lots of shade to walk through, and on this cool early June evening, it's cooler outside than in our basement apartment.

I find myself thinking that when we do move, I'd love to stay in the neighborhood. I love being close to work and an easy walk away from several different grocery stores. I like the pizza place around the block, now that we've gotten around to ordering there. I like the friendly neighbors and the earnest atmosphere. This doesn't feel like pretentious suburbia. There are a bunch of reasonably nice looking homes in varying states of maintenance of both the house and lawn, but though some lots have peeling paint and old-looking buildings, there is no sign of truly significant disrepair or destruction. Some lawns are manicured and well tended, some have quirky ornaments, and others are left mostly wild or patchy. There are many birds, and the distant noises of yardwork and dogs barking. There are so many trees both in peoples' yards and on the strip of greenery between the sidewalk and the road that if the cement and asphalt were replaced with grass it would simply be a carefully organized and spaced forest. One without underbracken.

And then I walked into my apartment and when I saw my roommate sitting on the couch watching Futurama, my spirits immediately fell and I felt defensive and disempowered again. Virtually the only significant reason I want to move is because I'm living with someone I don't want to live with. There are other annoying factors, like the child that sometimes runs loudly across the floor upstairs, and the propensity of people to knock on my bedroom window when they want to deal with someone in the house, but were it not for that one thing... I think ultimately, I could forgive the occasional annoyances and have very little to actually complain about. But I'm sharing my space with someone I could not share much of my perspective or lifestyle with, and that... feels limiting and entrapping. Yes, I do need to get out of here eventually, because our roommate has said he isn't going, but would be happy to look for new roommates when we leave.

I look forward to living in an apartment with just me and my boyfriend, with whom I can be myself in my skin, and relax, and co-operate. And, of course, any guests we choose to welcome into our house. But it would be our house, and not one full of awkward compromises with someone I... don't actively dislike... Or, at least, I wouldn't if I didn't have to live in the same house with him. Our roommate has often been helpful in his own way and though he is abrasive, I can see ways in which he's a reasonably decent guy. But be that as it may, I don't want to stay here living with him. I am still seeking my den.

Today's happiness, though, has been fairly regular. My job is increasingly easy for me to do and do well. I tend to enjoy the short walk to and from work, and I've been noticing the beauty of the area I live in more and more, as well as the beauty of simple pleasures like clean clothing that fits well. I feel rich. I have saved up a substantial amount of money over my last several months of working, and I do not have to put much effort into spending much less than I make. This morning, I went shopping at the Goodwill store where I work and spent $60 on everyday clothing for myself and my boyfriend, and it was a gentle pleasure knowing that I could easily afford the small luxury without having to worry. It made me glad to spend the money, for a good deal at a good place.

Regrettably, the fall of my spirits when I come home and see my roommate is almost as common. I have much to be thankful for, and I most definitely am. At the same time, I still have farther to go. I am not quite home yet, though I think I may be close. I hope so. I honestly think that perhaps the most ideal situation would be to move right next door if there were an available apartment there that I could afford with just my boyfriend and me.

Spring Summer

Greetings, dear readers.

I got over some of the slog of Amanda's second week here before too long. Robby has been very nice to me, and has made my life at home quite pleasant, though I still don't really like being around Nathan. I threw out my potted plants after a household fight, but the issues therein have since been resolved. I don't know whether I will try growing some late carrots or something. I might. Mostly, as always, I stay in bed when I'm not working.

A short time back, I had a very prolific few days for digital artwork, finishing several commissions on ChickenSmoothie in quick succession, and I've been happier at work, even though when I sort my back starts hurting badly, and last Sunday, I cleaned up semi-liquid shit from the walls and carpet in one of our changerooms, which someone had left us and tried to hide behind the chair. I don't know the story behind that, but apparently this is the only known time it's happened.

I have just finished my last challenge in a delightfully fun jaunt with a short indie game that combines match-3 puzzles with pseudo-random dungeon delving called 10000000. Yes, that's Ten Million. The goal of the game is to get ten million points, at which point you earn your freedom. It won't happen easily. Along the way, you explore dungeons to get gold which you can spend on better equipment, experience which you can spend on perks and abilities, and wood and stone which you need to rebuild and upgrade ruined rooms in your home in order to do so. It's well polished and good fun for a few hours, and has some very kickin' music. It's also available for only $5 US, as befits a short, coffee break type game. I recommend it to anyone to whom that sounds at all entertaining.

Household harmony has increased. Though I still have periods of substantial laziness, I feel that I've been getting used to doing dishes more often, and have minded less than before.

We had a guest over for a couple of days this week. We played two games of Dungeon Petz, which is also very fun, and hung out a bunch and ate together. It was good times, and there were cuddles and hugs.

I am starting to run out of my psych pills, and I don't think I was prescribed a refill. I suppose I may have to go talk to my clinic doctor about getting refills for them.

That's my life at the moment. It's not all that dramatic, but I am having some fun. Occasionally I dream of running a shelter or a low-cost inn of sorts, inspired by the cheap goods I work with at Goodwill. You'll hear from me again before too long, probably. Fare thee well, all.

Return to Mud

I've been depressed and tired.

I'm on a new medication for anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder that a psychologist I saw at Victoria Hospital prescribed me, but I am not convinced it's doing anything. It may even be contributing to the problem for all I know. Or possibly that's more to do with the adjustment to my thyroid supplements that came at about the same time.

My moods seem, if anything, even more swingy recently. My room is becoming a mess again after I cleaned it. The plants I was watering have begun to wilt and fall over, the roots coming to the surface rather than good strong stem all the way down. I think I even saw some whitish mold starting to grow in the pots. Robby suggested moving them to my room where they should get more direct sunlight from my window than they do from the living room one, because that usually has a sheet over it. It's a good idea. I'm just waiting for a time when I have enough energy to feel like I can and want to do anything beyond work, which is continuing to wear me down. And of course I am still plagued by anxiety about whether I am performing well enough to be valuable, rather than just another replaceable part.

Our roommate's girlfriend didn't really keep interacting with me during her second week here, and didn't even clean up much beyond the first whirl of activity, so things are back to their old habitual ways of constantly falling into mess. Not that I can say I'm doing a lot about it.

The worst parts for me are that late into the night I can hear my boyfriend talking online, through my bedroom wall, and the ceiling creaks and thuds above me both late at night and early enough in the morning that it's hard to get a good night's sleep and I can rarely get back to sleep for a little extra rest if I wake up early or just tired.

That and an increasing feeling of hostility between me and our other roommate, over whom I have no influence, and who tends to mess up the kitchen and not clean it.

That and the internet is constantly choked and hideously slow. Sometimes service will pick up for a while only to lag to crap again in the middle of something, or disappear so completely that pages or videos won't even load. Our upload speed is abysmal, so we can't properly share things with our friends online. There is hopefully something that could be done about this if we harassed our ISP about it enough, but Robby is understandably reluctant to do so. He's bogged down, too.

Throughout all this, some really good, neat things have gone on. I've just recently finished a really good book, I started a new Let's Play of an old game I used to love, and even sketched a few nice pictures a while back. Robby has been supportive, loving and sexy. We kiss a lot more than we used to. But somehow I can't seem to hold on to the good energy of any of those things. I keep dreaming about bedbugs, and feeling trapped in a room surrounded by hostility and mess and invaded by noise...

I want to be living somewhere else, with just Robby and me, a slightly smaller, cozier, quieter place, with more counter space in the kitchen. A place we control together, co-operatively. A place that is ours.

A Shot of Proactivity

Hi, dear blahgh.

I did a lot yesterday. I've been doing a lot. I had my troublesome top tooth out, it was a premolar. I've been getting some nasty ache while it heals which sometimes reaches all the way up to just under my eye, probably due to the fact that the cavity in the root opened up an infection right against, or possibly in, some of the lowest part of my sinuses.

I got a referral and went for a psych evaluation. The psychiatrist said that my triggered mental images of being stabbed or otherwise hurt with almost any particularly scary object I see was OCD. It's what he said; not might be, was. I personally am not sure how much confidence to have in his apparent confidence, but I've just started taking the mind medicine he prescribed me. And holy hell is it ever bitter. For now I'm going to presume that means it would be dangerous to take too much of it, so they did their best to make sure no-one would want to. I'm being started on a quarter tablet, then half. I should be taking whole tablets daily within two weeks.

My roommate's Australian girlfriend is visiting and she is awesome. She cleans. She cleaned his room, she cleaned the kitchen. I helped her clean a box full of dishes from the place he and Robbit used to share. Then, because Robby was feeling tired and lazy and I would have been bored walking by myself, she went with me to the drugstore to pick up my prescription for mind meds, and we stopped in to get gardening supplies, which I've been meaning to pick up, and groceries.

Gardening is something I've been really wanting to try for a while, and I'm very excited about it! I planted seven trays of ten spots in those little pre-planting seedling trays made of decomposing cardboard, so you just tear them apart and replant them outside without having to take them out of their potlets. All cucumbers and lettuce, since those were the seed packets I had that suggested pre-planting in the instructions on the back. I'll be trying to follow the instructions as much as possible, because I'm very new to this and I know I don't really know what I'm doing, despite having helped my mom and dad in the garden sometimes while growing up. I'm sure what limited knowledge I do have will be useful, though. I really look forward to having home-grown vegetables during the summer. I hope I can keep a garden somewhat maintained. I imagine having the reason to be outside should be good for me, too.

So anyway, yesterday was awesome in many ways, I got a lot done - I even tidied up my room and went through my shirts to get rid of some by donating them to the Goodwill store I work at. I really do have more than enough clothes, so I got rid of anything that I probably wouldn't wear, either because it's not as comfortable as other options I have, or because it's too high-cut and shows my belly-button if I lift my arms - not that I have anything against that kind of shirt, but I can't wear them at work, and I rarely dress up to go other places, and I have no problem wearing longer shirts when I go out to other places anyway. I didn't toss all my high-cut shirts, but I did pass on a few. A lot of my clothes probably won't be good enough to go out on the sales floor, but I know that the "salvage" they get there (what isn't up to quality standards) goes to do some good too, so I'm sure they'll be able to do more with it than I was.

I was so energized last night due to my good mood that I stayed up late just because I wasn't tired. And then, unfortunately, I was woken up very early by my roommate packing his lunches into tupperwares. It sounded exactly like a kitten chasing the lid to a tupperware container around the kitchen floor, with a lot of scraping and sliding sounds. I'm going to ask him to try to do that in the evening, now that he's working morning shifts and is home earlier than 11:30 at night, so that I don't get woken up that way again.

Roommate's girlfriend is staying with us during weekdays for two weeks. I hope that I can continue to use her energy to spark my own. Maybe I can help my boyfriend out by stealing his bedding and insisting on washing it. He won't do it himself, but I really think that the mess he voluntarily lives in can't be good for him. Maybe I should be more like her, and clean his room like she cleaned our roommate's. I hadn't thought about it this way, but I may be neglecting Robby by allowing him to neglect himself when we both know he's in a rut.

For now, excitement abounds! Thanks for reading, and may you be inspired to make progress in your own lives as I am being inspired to do in mine.

Becoming Spring

Hello, World.

It's nice to see you without your snow on, for a change.

Last week, for the first time in several months, I chose to go for a very long walk just because I felt like it and the weather was nice enough to be worth walking outside in. My legs got a little sore, but it felt wonderful to have done. The slow and late coming of spring has been noted by many, and every day I'm at work I hear people talking about how tired they are of winter.

I look forward with quiet anticipation to days when I can sell my boyfriend on a walk down a nearby forest path, or a picnic in the graveyard. I intend to try a little gardening, too, once the ground is done being frozen. I will finally be able to get some use out of those seeds I bought at the dollar store last year.

Yesterday, I bought a long, low set of shelves (three planes) from work for $8, and carried it home by hand. Finally, my books are arranged on shelves rather than in boxes, and I have been greatly appreciating the change in atmosphere. It also takes up less space and is much more accessible. I expect I may end up reading a fair bit more with my books now always flaunting their titles at me when I glance up from my laptop. I also look forward to reading aloud to my online friends again during our Skype calls, something they claim to have much enjoyed. They tell me I have a very nice reading voice and encourage me to consider making more use of it, perhaps even doing some reading or voice-acting professionally if that can be done with my limited technology. I hope I remember to try.

I did a fair bit of cooking today, making two meals for my Robbit and myself: pancakes, and a baked chicken dinner with boiled carrots and mashed potatoes. It's probably the nicest home-cooked dinner we've had in several weeks, if not ever. I even got around to cleaning the most accessible parts of the counter.

I woke up early and well-rested today, and I remember feeling afraid that I would fail to make use of the day. I didn't want to face the responsibility for choosing how to spend my own time. But I guess I didn't do too bad, looking back, huh. I'm probably still insane, but I'm a kind of insane that can be pretty functional sometimes, maybe. Don't know how I feel about that. It's an annoying obligation, the responsibility that comes with ability. Oh, well.

I've been supporting my Robbit through some tough financial times due to a problem getting finances for rent from Ontario Works for the month of March, which is late now. He's getting behind on some things, which I'm sure has been a stress for him, on top of the difficulties of convincing himself to job search and such.

Oh! Also, I want to mention this, so that I can remind myself when I come back and re-read it. During that long walk I mentioned, I had a rather inspired idea. I'm going to keep the details to myself for now, but it involves writing. I really hope I get it finished so I can share it. It would be so lovely if it happens.

Internet

The internet was installed at our house today. I've been spending a lot of time playing Oblivion of late, but now, with the net and all its distractions available again, I'm honestly not sure what to do. I'm honestly very glad that one of the first things I thought to do was come back here and blog, but it doesn't seem like there's a whole lot to share.

I'm somewhat broke, due to the costs of moving in and setting up the new home with internet (I bought the router and installation, Robby will be paying month by month). Aside from that, I'm just waiting for warmer weather I can do more getting around in more easily, and more hours at work. It seems rather dull and uninspired.

I will probably play more games. Is there a point? Many. Do they matter? Questionable.

See you when the bears wake up, folks.

Oh, I should probably mention that. I finally put up a more noticeable sign on my wall reminding me to take my pills every day as soon as I wake up (though that time admittedly varies). It's been helping a lot, though in my emotional instability at the time I put it up, I felt like a miserable failure for needing one. Not so much now. Things are pretty stable, and merely a bit boring.

Two player Audiosurf is tons of fun to play with a close friend or lover.

Dear Diary: Big Changes

My friends and readers...

It turns out that events conspired to allow me to move in with Robby sooner, much sooner than expected. Although I lost a month of rent due to being unable to give proper notice, I am now living in a house which is a ten minutes' walk from work, and where my boyfriend lives too. It is a three bedroom basement apartment, and the third room is taken up by a rough and tumble old friend of Robby's that he grew up with. It's a bit of a challenge coping with not having my boyfriend's attention for all the time we're both home, but he needs to settle in and get used to it being our house for a while. We don't have a home internet connection yet, but I do finally have a kitchen I can cook in. I immediately made a huge pot of stew which we have been enjoying, though it turned out a bit bland. The basement apartment is freezing, due to recent cold weather, and the hot water pipes were frozen still this morning. I sleep in my clothing for the added warmth. Hopefully it will warm up soon.

More later. My head feels a little stifled with the noise in the library. Huron and Highbury is a wonderful area. My bank, my favorite grocery story, a Shopper's Drugmart and a branch of the London Library are all on or near the same corner. I will likely be back to take advantage of the free wireless internet with my laptop, and I imagine Robby will be too.

Frustrating Day

I spent the last several days with my love, recovering from a deep abyss of sleep deprivation and fatigue that I'd fallen into over the previous week or two. I started staying up all night over my Christmas holiday, and couldn't seem to break the habit. I've had troubles like this all my life, and unfortunately, the more important it is to get to sleep at a reasonable time, the less it happens, because the importance only creates urgency and anxiety, which does not induce restful slumber, but only adds to insomnia.

I started prioritizing sleep, and thought I'd managed to get it back into pattern. But now I'm back home... and although I've been in a muzzy, confused haze of blah all evening, now that night's come and I should be sleeping, I'm wide awake and my chest feels coiled tight like a spring, and alert as a hunted mouse. Through the haze, I suspected there might be something I'm avoiding facing, because I felt an urgency to keep myself occupied; moreso than usual, though I have rarely found it easy to really relax. Now, after a shower in which I briefly wandered off into relaxed fantasy, but only became tense again at the thought that tonight, it's actually important I get to sleep, because I work in the morning... I think I may understand why my body is registering this sense of panic or grief.

A couple of days ago, my boyfriend called me after work, while he was getting to the bus to get home, and told me that he was being retired along with all the other seasonal staff at EB Games. The higher ups were determined not to keep on any of the seasonal staff. On the upside, he had made a fantastic impression and was now at the top of the list of people that his branch would call on if they needed someone... But that still means that after his last couple of scheduled days, the last one being tomorrow, he's out of work until he finds another position - with EB Games or otherwise. Now, at this point, I think he's proven sufficiently that he can find work, and I don't need to worry to much about his ability to support himself in job searching and in the mean time... But it does mean that according to our plans, I won't be moving in with him for another five months at least, probably half a year, and I have been looking forward to it with aching intensity. It has been extremely annoying having to wait. The place I'm in is certainly not all that bad, but it doesn't have my boyfriend in it, and the place he's in is rather awful. We will be able to save a lot of money living together, too. Everything is inefficient now. Spending time together takes too much arranging. Ensuring that Robby is well fed, heck, even cooking for myself, is complicated by not having my own kitchen (I share mine with my landlord). The next few months may be tighter for finance, with my after-Christmas hours scheduled to be reduced, and Robby's earning opportunities completely unknown as yet.

Aside from all that, in parallel, I think I am deciding to be done with the Pup again... And having once taken him back after such a final decision, I think and hope that I will not be so foolish again.

All things considered, I suppose I do have fair reason to be stressed. That helps. Feeling that my pain is significant even from an outside perspective helps me to forgive myself for getting caught up in it, and forgiveness is the key to freedom...

I do not know what to say now.

Goodnight... Though I do not know when I will sleep, or how many more nights I will be restless.