And Jane came by with a lock of your hair

[rachg82]

1. I'm hungry. Frankly, it's irritating me. Heh. juliedarling, you were right. I'm still on one Topamax per day, but omg STOMACH RUMBLINGS. WTF is THIS all about. Look, body, it's 3:30 in the morning (as I start this entry), you've already woken me up with a headache (which is at least now at bay, thanks to Excedrin), we both know there's no edible food in this apartment, so what do you expect me to do? Alchemy? THAT'S FOR METALS, STOMACH. Also, it doesn't exist. Make some sense, ye. *medieval rimshot* (Ahh, who doesn't love an oh-so-timely alchemy pun? No wonder I'm single.)

Okay, so I can acknowledge how unfair it is of me to expect my stomach to just ~not be hungry~ when all I had yesterday was a burrito & chips, but it still bugs me. Irrationally. Like, if I choose to eat, fine. But my body telling me to? Annoying. There should be a message system allowing you to tell it in no uncertain terms, "YOU'RE NOT GETTING FOOD UNTIL SUCH & SUCH TIME. STFU UNTIL THEN; I HAVE THINGS TO DO." Like a little keyboard that pops out of your stomach & then slides back in. Then your stomach can receive the message & be all, "Bitch is you crazy?" And you can be like, "Maybe I am, stomach, and MAYBE I AM."[/SNL Dog Show reference. Heh. Except that particular skit has a different variation of their usual "maybe I am" bit, but whatev. Close enough.]

(I do at least have peanut butter, though. That is seriously the depths of patheticness I've reached. To avoid passing out, I must dig peanut butter out of a jar with a plastic knife. OH YES, did I forget to mention? My actual knives are dirty. I do, however, have plastic knives. I AM SO LAZY, I WENT FOR THE PLASTIC ONE. Not only that, but I *bought* them so I wouldn't have to do dishes the other night. She shoots, she scores.)

At some point this weekend, I'm going to have to clean out my fridge (thar be monsters & expired milk) & go to the store. I also need to call my old friend/coworker to ask for directions to the call center where she works so I can apply there. Then I need to call the unemployment place about getting an extension (assuming I don't "luck out"--woo, meh--and get a job right off the bat where my friend works. You never know). In the midst of all this, I can practice *not* panicking & envisioning myself homeless or dead in the upcoming weeks (whatifIdon'tgetthebenefitswhatifIcan'tpaymybillswhatifwhatifwhatif, etc). I'm really not comfortable with the whole loss of control thing--it cannot be stressed enough. Deep breaths. I'm trying to joke through it, but I honestly am very anxious.

2. I've been too busy doing absolutely nothing to write my Bones review yet. Well, there was some sleep in there too, and going through my room trying to find things. That was uber exciting (not really). I'll try to have it up this weekend, though. For now I'll just say that I loved it. I don't know anyone who didn't, heh. Like, hello, obvious statements are obvious. (as a sneak-peek/random aside, however: this was my reaction to Booth in the diner scene. Hahaha. Don't worry, though, he more than made up for the transgression throughout the rest of the ep!)

3. I need to get back to writing my fic. Hopefully the new hiatus (oy, with the hiatuses already) gives me the motivation. I haven't felt very motivated for *anything* lately. I think stress is blocking me. I get this way when I'm really worried about something that's unresolved. I feel like I can't do anything until it's over. It just like OWNS me. But at the same time, the idea of calling my friend/the unemployment agency/etc is also overwhelming. So I'm stuck in this AGHHHHH-state of "omg just knock me unconscious." Hence why nothing is accomplished. Not dishes, not laundry, not anything. I'm just fucking frozen. There is *too much to do* & I don't know what to do first & I can't THINK & aeaiohgoihgh. Too many things *hanging*, metaphorically. Like quicksand, surrounding me. It's so, so hard. I know the ways to deal with it--take everything bit by bit--but that doesn't make it not hard. It's like there's too much information in there ("in there" being my stupid brain), and sometimes I just need a reset button--something to wipe it clean. An aide to walk me through things step by tiny, meticulous, super-thorough step. Ugh. It's exhausting. Like, "Okay, Rachael. We're gonna make dinner now. I know we need to do the dishes first. I KNOW. First this section. Okay, now this section. Breathe, breathe. All right, so you'll have to wash that pan by hand or wait to cook until the dishes are done. I'll help you make that decision, too. Yes, I understand you were already breathing--that's not what I meant. Diaphragmatic breathing, Rachael. What? The pan has mold? Now you want to throw it out? Oh, Jesus. Okay, let's logically weigh the pros & cons of making something that doesn't require a pan, including its most likely lower nutritional value based on the limited options of what you're willing to eat vs. going to the store to buy a new pan & how much estimated time that will take--including the walk there + the shopping--added to the time it takes to cook, added to how hungry you are, added to how much money it will cost. No, skipping dinner entirely in a meltdown-esque fit of obstinate pouting is not an option." WELCOME TO MY LIFE, FOLKS. Let's not even get into what it's like to cook with me. Everything is a freaking ~operation~. "At exactly what intervals of time do I flip the burger? I NEED EXACT INTERVALS."

4. I enjoy peanut butter. Just felt like sharing that with you all. Also, it's now 5 am. I am very wordy. Ha.

In other news: I found my old private journal from August of 2001 through May of 2002, today. A long time ago, I'd typed up the entries on here & backdated them, but later I deleted the whole thing + I eventually misplaced the journal in RL as well. All I had left were a few excerpts from my 2002 Year in Review post, which in a way is like reading the ending to a story without the beginning. I actually sat down this afternoon & read through all of it. I'd like to have something ~thoughtful~ & indepth to say about it, but right now I don't yet. I might later, maybe even type some of it up again, I don't know. You know how sometimes something hits you in a way where you can't say much of anything about it? It's just too deep? I guess I just forgot how much I went through. It's actually making me cry right now, which I didn't expect. Because I just tried so HARD & wanted so badly to be positive, and it's just so fucking heartbreaking to read the things I was writing/experiencing. It was like this slow "Bell Jar" descent into despair, and I have no idea how I survived it, because I was living with my nightmare from Hell FAMILY, y'know? God, it was just horrible. I was only a teenager. And so many of the things I felt & thought were the same over the last year, but I'd forgotten feeling them to that extent before, so in a way it was even stranger, because it almost helped me understand, I guess. Even at my worst, I was always still me. My family telling me I'd "changed" & bla bla bla (in negative ways, including my positive actions being seen as negative like going to ACA meetings & counseling, etc, but also things I struggled with like SI, telling me I used to be more flexible & fun & other bullshit)--it wasn't true. Not overall. Especially because they didn't know my thoughts/emotions then. Not even remotely. Way back in 2001, I was writing about my "goals" to make eye contact with people & noting the progress/difficulty of remembering & not feeling my face "freeze" (i.e. knowing what expression to make & how long to hold it & how to do it "right"/not getting overwhelmed by anxiety & my endless loop of obsessive thoughts over what every single part of my body looked like & what they might be thinking). I had to run around my room to calm myself down or dig my nails into my skin. I kept wondering what the "password" was to make & keep friends & have relationships & be "normal" & happy & loved like everyone else. If a plan wasn't made correctly--or got changed--I could not COPE with it. I was constantly sick. I weighed 100 pounds & thought I was "disgusting." So many of the issues I tried to talk to my sister about last year--the ones she brushed aside & belittled, just like she did back then--were around during the lead-up to my first major breakdown ten years ago, along with graduating high school, losing friends, my grandpa dying, getting panic attacks (without knowing that's what they were), living with my mom's repeated psych ward adventures, and so on. To read all that, and read this 19 year old kid going from *trying so, so hard* to make herself "better" always playing devil's advocate for everyone & praying & hoping & bla bla bla, to slowly but surely insulting herself & hating herself & having no emotions left & being emotionally abused by her family & being so ALONE & thinking of suicide nearly every freaking DAY, and--God, just all of it.

I guess I did have a few things to say after all. I still feel like there's more, but again, I just don't know how to say it. Maybe later. I'm just glad I kept that stuff, that's all. It's so easy to forget who you are & where you come from, especially when you've had people trying to feed you lies. To be able to regain lost memories & go back, it means a lot. I can say, "This is me. This is what I survived. It makes sense that I've gone through what I have since. It makes sense. There's a pattern here. There might be a way out, and I'm still getting there."


5. Aaand it's now 6 am. JEEZ, I TAKE FOREVER WITH THESE THINGS--probably because I keep getting detoured by YouTube and what-not. Anyway. I do have one more thing before I go (and before the VotD, of course). While I was looking through my room yesterday--and found the aforementioned journal--I also found a few other old things. Sometimes being a packrat comes in handy, yo. Did you know I have a (until now totally forgotten) dolphin ring like Brennan? HA. SERIOUSLY.



WHAT THE CRAP. Like I didn't already overidentify with her enough, hahaha. I had completely forgotten its existence, btw, but once I found it, I instantly remembered getting it as a gift from my uncle (he used to always buy me jewelry, despite me never wearing any & being, like, TEN), and it was the craziest thing ever. P.S. That's a Snoopy diary on the left from when I was ten years old (HILARIOUS--oh my God. Every entry ends, "Well, I have go now, BYE.") & a randomrandomrandom drawing from I don't even know how young I was where for some reason I felt the need to write, "I'm as tough as a tiger." HEE. I mean, I remember tigers were my fave animal & all (particularly Siberian tigers/White tigers), but I don't know WTF that was all about. Still amusing though.



1980s BABY FOR THE MUTHAFUCKIN' WIN. Oh hells yes, that's a Mr. Sneeze book right there. Don't be jealous. And you never know when you might need decades-old currency from Hong Kong, so you can see I've got that covered as well. Plus, a fan. Sometimes it gets hot up in herre.



I am such a dork for taking a picture of this, heh. But, dude, that is A.G. bear (stands for "A Grizzly Bear"--I've had him since I was two. He used to growl when you squeezed his tummy, back when he still worked. I always loved that he growled instead of talked, because I was all, "HE'S ACCURATE LIKE A REAL BEAR. AND THAT ALSO MEANS HE WILL KICK FREDDY KREUGER'S ASS IF HE TRIES TO KILL ME IN MY SLEEP." Haha), and Pound Puppy, whom I've had since I was four. And yes, the Pound Puppy in my first fic was totes because of him. A.G. Bear was in a box when I found him yesterday, and I was like, "AHHHH, A.G. BEAR!" Hahaha. Then I hugged him like he was an actual person. Freak.



This was from 1994, when I was twelve. I used to draw comics & weird, random crap all the time. Heh. I have no idea what this was all about, but it made me laugh.

*edited to add: I also found the "National Patent" my best friend from sixth grade and I made, which includes (but is not limited to) the following things: bored to death rotating arms, grand entrances, go away we're loners, haunting people, doing patents, death punch, we are the children of you, Mary Poppins nice to meet you, commercial obsessions, lines from books, you're not fully clean unless you're zest fully clean, and the names Conrad & Mortimore.

We "officiated" it by signing the names Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton, & Bart Simpson at the bottom.

In other words: WE WERE STRANGE CHILDREN.

I also came across a few things from when I was a teenager & figured I'd share that as well:



I think this was done in '97 (when I was fifteen), during my project on existentialism. Yes, the planets were mapped out accurately in that drawing. Ha. SO ANAL.



This was in one of my high school's art book thingamabobs. I crossed out my last name since I'm paranoid. P.S. Of course you listed "anthropology", teenage!Rachael. Of course you did.

The following pics are from the same book:







[sings]Memmmories, like the corners of my mind![/sings]

Okay, I'm done. That was entertaining.


For my VotD, I have an INCREDIBLY good Kara vid by MadnessoftheDivine to share. It's like a work of art, gah. I can't even. THIS FUCKING SHOW, Y'ALL. If you aren't already onboard, watch this vid. That's all I have to say.