Little soul, big world
Dec. 24th, 2010 02:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rachg821. New icon! (hence the current mood status) I must say, I feel quite pleased with it. I really wanted one of her in the elevator as well (y'know the one--Bones surrounded by darkness, all literally & figuratively descending? Gorgeous symbolism, party of one!), but the mojo just wasn't cooperating. Dag nabbit.
2.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dradiscontact had to go home today to take care of family stuff etc, which was very sadface (but totally understandable). She had hoped to stay longer, and that was the plan originally, but things come up, y'know? Such is life. Hopefully she can come back again later. Perhaps by then I'll have a license/car so we can actually leave the city. Heh. Or at least avoid public transportation within the city. Oy.
I won't lie--I am sad over the prospect of being alone for the rest of December now, especially because I didn't expect it. I feel surprisingly lonely, which is sort of ridiculous. But I will be okay. One more week, folks. That's all. And then it's time to kiss 2010 the Hell goodbye. LET'S DO THIS.
3. On Coda's last full day here, I dragged her (okay, so not *literally* dragged, but close enough, ha. There were big ole hills & me being my directionless wanderer self & she was less than pleased) up to the Portland Rose Gardens and
Oh, what's that you say? Why'd I take her to a world-famous rose garden in December, when nothing was in bloom? Because that's how I roll, that's why.
Tweaked for funsies. It almost looks like a nice time of year!. . .sort of.
I wanted to take her more places obviously, but this is what happens when you run out of time & money & families exist & yada yada yada. STUPID LIFE. *kicks universe*
Oh well. We still had fun! (I'm so spoiled, haha. I basically had a weeklong vacation with a friend & am all, "WAH. I WAS PROMISED A MINIMUM OF TWO WEEKS, YO. I DO DECLARE, THIS MEANS WAR." Then I slap Fate with a glove & challenge it to a duel. Pistols at dawn!)
4. At least before the vacay ended, I got to learn a few cooking tips & even managed to start eating like a normal human being again. (I feel like a "tada!" is called for here. Not sure why) The hilarious (not in a "haha" way, but in a "God, I've been so irrational" way) thing about it is that I didn't even end up gaining weight. The three pounds I gained at first? Dropped right back off. I'm still between 126/129, depending on the time of day. Same as I was when I was eating a tiny bit of nothing once a day. Now I can eat twice a day, sometimes even three times a day, but so far at least my weight has stayed stable. Which, considering the mild-to-moderate amount of walking we've been doing, tells me I could still up the ante on my exercise & continue losing weight without detracting from that. I'm starting to realize it might not be reasonable to expect to drop back down to a size 0-2 again (like I was in my early twenties), but seeing as I'm only 4'10, I don't think it's crazy to at least want to be somewhere around 115-120 lbs & have more muscle strength. I don't know. We'll see. But whatever happens, I need to continue the reasonably healthy eating now that I've gotten myself to start doing it again.
I am really glad too to just have learned/practiced even a few cooking-type things again, because it does make it easier for me to believe I'll get myself to eat regularly. Even the things I technically knew how to do already, because honestly some of it is still just so distasteful to me due to the bad memories from home. Every time I paint over the associations with new ones, it's a really good thing. Peeling potatoes? Of course I know how to do that. But can I do it without thinking of my mom? No. Her smirky, ragey ass; the "I just don't know how you get by every day, being so helpless"; those wildly flying potato peels; it's all stuck in my brain for good. Just like a hundred other bad memories I can't bleach out. And, you know, it's not included in that entry, but I know another time she called me a loser for not peeling potatoes "right". Typical, eh? It all just piles up.
Point being though: this is why I want to start building more new associations/memories. I don't want to just detach from my feelings when it comes to the old wounds--that's what I'd been doing before, and it obviously wasn't good. It was simply a survival skill that had become outdated. But at the same time, I also want to try to reclaim some things & move forward. It's important to me. So even just standing in the kitchen with someone while *they* peel potatoes & talk to me about it, it's a step.
Obviously, it's a fine balance & not an overnight thing. But then again, that applies to a majority of important things for most people.
What I will say is at least when those nasty memories come up, I can look to those old entries & say, "fucking A, I was a strong kid." Because, really, I remember what it was like then. Looking back, I almost don't know how I survived. Constant insanity, constant yelling, constant tension, constant cycles of abuse & manipulation, constant unpredictability, constant drug use, constant stress. . .and all on top of my own issues with depression & anxiety & migraines & work & school & UGH. HOW THE HELL DID I MAKE IT OUT OF THERE ALIVE?
Especially when I can take excerpts from that entry like this:
There are times when a part of me wants to say I wish my Mother was dead. That, or me. When I want to tell her that. Tell her I hope she doesn't come home. Tell her she's a miserable woman, and I hate her. Want to take something, and seriously start hitting her with it. Or simply take the knife in my hand that I'm using to cut her stupid potatoes and slit my wrists, right there in front of her. Because I just don't care anymore. Because, in that moment, I feel like I can't take it anymore. Like I will simply explode, at any second. My throat is burning with angry tears, right now. I'm just trying to keep them down, because I don't want her to see them. I just want to fucking disappear
. . .
I just want to be AWAY. Last night, I started feeling really panicky while I was trying to fall asleep, because I started thinking about how long I've struggled to be happy, and whether I ever will be able to. But, right now, I'm just trying to hold out. It's not like I can't give up all hope, two years from now. If I can just wait, keep trying, things might be okay. If they aren't, I'll deal with that then.
Have to just keep reminding myself, I'll be out of here before I know it. And every time I then panic over my future, just remind myself, deal with the present. I'll deal with the future, when it's time to deal with it. Or so I tell myself, anyway.
It's just hard. When you're living with someone who obviously thinks SO lowly of you. How do you even smile? How do you stand up under that, with dignity? Everytime I so much as hear her making noise upstairs, I swear I want to crawl in bed and go to sleep so I can block it out. Whatever, fuck her. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck her
Seriously. The thing about hearing her make noise upstairs? UGHHHHHH, God, I remember that.
Anyway, I'm rambling so I'll just move on here. I guess my point was just this: good to try to move on, good to feel (even though it hurts), & good to look back & be proud that I made it this far. Even though I still struggle to keep going, which--for the record--is still no picnic. But I'm here, and at least in this moment, want to try to make myself stay.
5. Speaking of my mother, she did end up sending me a Christmas gift (pajamas, a robe, and a fake-cheerful card that acted like nothing had happened between us). Thank Jeebus it arrived before Coda left, so I wasn't alone while opening it (I of course cried, but was able to hold it together). I promptly donated the whole mindfuck of a package to Goodwill upon my return home, which was extremely hard to do, but once it was done I knew it was the right thing & felt very proud of myself for it. The real gift she should've given me? Drug treatment. Which she damn well knows. My terms are not vague, not to mention the fact that they explicitly stated I wished to NOT have further contact with her until they were met (she's repeatedly disrespected this boundary, all year long). Her "present" was nothing but a ploy. Instead, she's done nothing I asked (not one single A.A. or N.A. meeting. She's still with Joe the pervert/pedophile, still stealing my sister's pills & acting crazy), but sends me some trojan horse of a gift anyway so she can tell the whole family what a "bitch" I am--which she will, trust me, and in exactly those words--for not thanking her or coming over on Christmas after. Not to mention, I guarantee if I were to check my spam folder this week, there'd be emails from her calling me names, just like what happened after my nephew's birthday earlier this year. The "my home is your home!" crap on the card would be over LIKE THAT, rest assured. Just give her 24 hours or so for the pills to change & her mood to flip.
6. As for Christmas, I haven't heard from my uncle yet, but he did tell me on Thanksgiving that I'd be welcome over there so hopefully that's still the case. If not (i.e. if he's too sick due to the cancer, etc), I believe there'll be an Adult Children of Alcoholics meeting that day. And if not that, I'll find a place to volunteer or something. The goal is to not be alone, basically. Normally being alone is no problem, but this next week might be a bit shaky for me--Christmas especially--so I just want to look out for myself more than usual if possible. If necessary though, I could always attempt to just sleep the next week away. Heh. Maybe I could set a record?
7. I'm now officially done with Firefly, as Coda and I watched "Serenity" last night. I LOVE RIVER. Have I mentioned that? EXPECT ICONS. She is full of amazingness.
8. My Year in Review post is in the works. Be afraid. Ha. Hot damn it's gonna be long, methinks.
9. I'd like to start writing another fic (when I'm not doing unimportant things like looking for work, whatev), but just need to decide which story idea to go with. My mind has suddenly been overrun by crack. It's like there's a plumber up in there. For serious. Do I run with it? Or ignore it until something serious comes along? What say ye?
10. Vid of the Day time. I'm in the mood for some cheerful crack, especially what with it being Christmas Eve Day and all (both an Eve and a day--it's a ~Christmas Miracle~! Aw, Booth). I totes need the happy distraction. So, today's vid comes to you all courtesy of jcathm and is brought to you by the g-funk era, funked out with a gangsta twist. (YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS SONG. Yeahhhhh, Kara, get it girl!)
2.
dradiscontact had to go home today to take care of family stuff etc, which was very sadface (but totally understandable). She had hoped to stay longer, and that was the plan originally, but things come up, y'know? Such is life. Hopefully she can come back again later. Perhaps by then I'll have a license/car so we can actually leave the city. Heh. Or at least avoid public transportation within the city. Oy.I won't lie--I am sad over the prospect of being alone for the rest of December now, especially because I didn't expect it. I feel surprisingly lonely, which is sort of ridiculous. But I will be okay. One more week, folks. That's all. And then it's time to kiss 2010 the Hell goodbye. LET'S DO THIS.
3. On Coda's last full day here, I dragged her (okay, so not *literally* dragged, but close enough, ha. There were big ole hills & me being my directionless wanderer self & she was less than pleased) up to the Portland Rose Gardens and
Oh, what's that you say? Why'd I take her to a world-famous rose garden in December, when nothing was in bloom? Because that's how I roll, that's why.
Tweaked for funsies. It almost looks like a nice time of year!. . .sort of.
I wanted to take her more places obviously, but this is what happens when you run out of time & money & families exist & yada yada yada. STUPID LIFE. *kicks universe*
Oh well. We still had fun! (I'm so spoiled, haha. I basically had a weeklong vacation with a friend & am all, "WAH. I WAS PROMISED A MINIMUM OF TWO WEEKS, YO. I DO DECLARE, THIS MEANS WAR." Then I slap Fate with a glove & challenge it to a duel. Pistols at dawn!)
4. At least before the vacay ended, I got to learn a few cooking tips & even managed to start eating like a normal human being again. (I feel like a "tada!" is called for here. Not sure why) The hilarious (not in a "haha" way, but in a "God, I've been so irrational" way) thing about it is that I didn't even end up gaining weight. The three pounds I gained at first? Dropped right back off. I'm still between 126/129, depending on the time of day. Same as I was when I was eating a tiny bit of nothing once a day. Now I can eat twice a day, sometimes even three times a day, but so far at least my weight has stayed stable. Which, considering the mild-to-moderate amount of walking we've been doing, tells me I could still up the ante on my exercise & continue losing weight without detracting from that. I'm starting to realize it might not be reasonable to expect to drop back down to a size 0-2 again (like I was in my early twenties), but seeing as I'm only 4'10, I don't think it's crazy to at least want to be somewhere around 115-120 lbs & have more muscle strength. I don't know. We'll see. But whatever happens, I need to continue the reasonably healthy eating now that I've gotten myself to start doing it again.
I am really glad too to just have learned/practiced even a few cooking-type things again, because it does make it easier for me to believe I'll get myself to eat regularly. Even the things I technically knew how to do already, because honestly some of it is still just so distasteful to me due to the bad memories from home. Every time I paint over the associations with new ones, it's a really good thing. Peeling potatoes? Of course I know how to do that. But can I do it without thinking of my mom? No. Her smirky, ragey ass; the "I just don't know how you get by every day, being so helpless"; those wildly flying potato peels; it's all stuck in my brain for good. Just like a hundred other bad memories I can't bleach out. And, you know, it's not included in that entry, but I know another time she called me a loser for not peeling potatoes "right". Typical, eh? It all just piles up.
Point being though: this is why I want to start building more new associations/memories. I don't want to just detach from my feelings when it comes to the old wounds--that's what I'd been doing before, and it obviously wasn't good. It was simply a survival skill that had become outdated. But at the same time, I also want to try to reclaim some things & move forward. It's important to me. So even just standing in the kitchen with someone while *they* peel potatoes & talk to me about it, it's a step.
Obviously, it's a fine balance & not an overnight thing. But then again, that applies to a majority of important things for most people.
What I will say is at least when those nasty memories come up, I can look to those old entries & say, "fucking A, I was a strong kid." Because, really, I remember what it was like then. Looking back, I almost don't know how I survived. Constant insanity, constant yelling, constant tension, constant cycles of abuse & manipulation, constant unpredictability, constant drug use, constant stress. . .and all on top of my own issues with depression & anxiety & migraines & work & school & UGH. HOW THE HELL DID I MAKE IT OUT OF THERE ALIVE?
Especially when I can take excerpts from that entry like this:
There are times when a part of me wants to say I wish my Mother was dead. That, or me. When I want to tell her that. Tell her I hope she doesn't come home. Tell her she's a miserable woman, and I hate her. Want to take something, and seriously start hitting her with it. Or simply take the knife in my hand that I'm using to cut her stupid potatoes and slit my wrists, right there in front of her. Because I just don't care anymore. Because, in that moment, I feel like I can't take it anymore. Like I will simply explode, at any second. My throat is burning with angry tears, right now. I'm just trying to keep them down, because I don't want her to see them. I just want to fucking disappear
. . .
I just want to be AWAY. Last night, I started feeling really panicky while I was trying to fall asleep, because I started thinking about how long I've struggled to be happy, and whether I ever will be able to. But, right now, I'm just trying to hold out. It's not like I can't give up all hope, two years from now. If I can just wait, keep trying, things might be okay. If they aren't, I'll deal with that then.
Have to just keep reminding myself, I'll be out of here before I know it. And every time I then panic over my future, just remind myself, deal with the present. I'll deal with the future, when it's time to deal with it. Or so I tell myself, anyway.
It's just hard. When you're living with someone who obviously thinks SO lowly of you. How do you even smile? How do you stand up under that, with dignity? Everytime I so much as hear her making noise upstairs, I swear I want to crawl in bed and go to sleep so I can block it out. Whatever, fuck her. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck her
Seriously. The thing about hearing her make noise upstairs? UGHHHHHH, God, I remember that.
Anyway, I'm rambling so I'll just move on here. I guess my point was just this: good to try to move on, good to feel (even though it hurts), & good to look back & be proud that I made it this far. Even though I still struggle to keep going, which--for the record--is still no picnic. But I'm here, and at least in this moment, want to try to make myself stay.
5. Speaking of my mother, she did end up sending me a Christmas gift (pajamas, a robe, and a fake-cheerful card that acted like nothing had happened between us). Thank Jeebus it arrived before Coda left, so I wasn't alone while opening it (I of course cried, but was able to hold it together). I promptly donated the whole mindfuck of a package to Goodwill upon my return home, which was extremely hard to do, but once it was done I knew it was the right thing & felt very proud of myself for it. The real gift she should've given me? Drug treatment. Which she damn well knows. My terms are not vague, not to mention the fact that they explicitly stated I wished to NOT have further contact with her until they were met (she's repeatedly disrespected this boundary, all year long). Her "present" was nothing but a ploy. Instead, she's done nothing I asked (not one single A.A. or N.A. meeting. She's still with Joe the pervert/pedophile, still stealing my sister's pills & acting crazy), but sends me some trojan horse of a gift anyway so she can tell the whole family what a "bitch" I am--which she will, trust me, and in exactly those words--for not thanking her or coming over on Christmas after. Not to mention, I guarantee if I were to check my spam folder this week, there'd be emails from her calling me names, just like what happened after my nephew's birthday earlier this year. The "my home is your home!" crap on the card would be over LIKE THAT, rest assured. Just give her 24 hours or so for the pills to change & her mood to flip.
6. As for Christmas, I haven't heard from my uncle yet, but he did tell me on Thanksgiving that I'd be welcome over there so hopefully that's still the case. If not (i.e. if he's too sick due to the cancer, etc), I believe there'll be an Adult Children of Alcoholics meeting that day. And if not that, I'll find a place to volunteer or something. The goal is to not be alone, basically. Normally being alone is no problem, but this next week might be a bit shaky for me--Christmas especially--so I just want to look out for myself more than usual if possible. If necessary though, I could always attempt to just sleep the next week away. Heh. Maybe I could set a record?
7. I'm now officially done with Firefly, as Coda and I watched "Serenity" last night. I LOVE RIVER. Have I mentioned that? EXPECT ICONS. She is full of amazingness.
8. My Year in Review post is in the works. Be afraid. Ha. Hot damn it's gonna be long, methinks.
9. I'd like to start writing another fic (when I'm not doing unimportant things like looking for work, whatev), but just need to decide which story idea to go with. My mind has suddenly been overrun by crack. It's like there's a plumber up in there. For serious. Do I run with it? Or ignore it until something serious comes along? What say ye?
10. Vid of the Day time. I'm in the mood for some cheerful crack, especially what with it being Christmas Eve Day and all (both an Eve and a day--it's a ~Christmas Miracle~! Aw, Booth). I totes need the happy distraction. So, today's vid comes to you all courtesy of jcathm and is brought to you by the g-funk era, funked out with a gangsta twist. (YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS SONG. Yeahhhhh, Kara, get it girl!)
