It’s been a minute…

May 24, 2022

um, hi!

I always forget I have this place to post my work but here is some garbage I wrote:

Here we go. I’m in my zone with my music ready to go. As I sit here I wonder why my heart is so light and yet so fast. Like a hummingbird floating in my chest. My brain is the flower that feeds my heart’s form.

My skin is beading with sweat and the hummingbird works. The fierce ripples of motion that reverberates out into the universe. I feel the universe inside me. All of space is caught in my lungs. I breathe it. Swirls of consciousness, all except mine, are drifting around my head/soul/aura. It seems like there is going to be an earthquake in my soul.

The heat rises from my arms as I type. Trying to keep up with the whirlwind that is my mind right now is making them overheat. OR it’s the energy of my life seeping out. 

There is a sense of urgency in this song. A bustle of movement. But the heat. Like NYC in summer. I am not here. I am elsewhere. I am transported to anywhere beyond my reach. With that is a sacrifice of not being here now. Everything has a tracer. Movement is drawn in the sky by motions of atoms. The molecules that make up everything. I can feel them under my skin. The motion of blood and electricity. 

I am lost. I traveled too far. My sleep notification just went off but I know I am far from sleep. I’m being awoken now. In this instant, I can feel everything and nothing all at once. I’m detached from my hands and yet still, I control them. Softness, among the chaos. A sense of belonging in a world of loneliness. 

Chaos. I can’t contain the chaos. I flow with each change. Each motion of the water carries me further. I’m still warm. But now I’m in a hot spring. With nature. 

I’ve traveled again. I’m not sure where I am. A distant noise draws my attention. A clink of metal on taut string. It is creating music. A gentle rhythm underneath the spot stealing trumpet. I’m lost and feel like switching the song.

That’s it for now. Don’t worry, there’s more.

Christmas 2021

December 23, 2021

Since 1997, A CHRISTMAS STORY has played non-stop for 24 hours starting Christmas Eve.  

I would start my Christmas marathon of A Christmas Story on Christmas Eve by watching the first half of the first showing of the movie.  Trying to hear the audio between the enthusiastic shouting of my New Jersey family. We were in a cramped space that somehow fit around 17 people, mostly out of sheer determination and Christmas magic. All of us would try to have separate conversations that spanned distance and in full disregard of overlap. My aunt was the best at relaying her exact feelings, at the top of her voice, to my semi-deaf grandfather, from one end of the space to the exact opposite end. This would occur above all of our other conversations. The shrill emotionality of her frustration was exasperated by my uncle, her brother, taunting her about just about anything just to get a rise out of her. It was absolute chaos and I look back on my time with my family fondly. Even though I know at the time I was overstimulated and cranky. 

The next day, my immediate family would fly back to Ohio from New Jersey and at Newark Airport, I would get to see A Christmas Story in bits and pieces while waiting for our flight. It was a constant that helped comfort me when my immense social anxiety flared. The flight was only an hour and I would get super excited when we flew over the Cleveland skyline. 

When we finally arrived home, I always ran for my stocking first. My stocking would be filled with Malley’s candy and scratch-offs, basically the two things that make Christmas worthwhile for me. By this point, I had probably seen only A Christmas Story through once and some change. 

Shortly after I destroyed my scratch-offs, usually only winning $20, we would drive across town to see my other aunt and her family for Christmas dinner. She would make something great like ham or prime rib and the BEST mashed potatoes. Somehow, I would still fill up on chocolate and olives. I don’t know when it started, but black and green olives have been an appetizer of every family function for as long as I can remember. Then, to cap off the night, we would watch the end of the last A Christmas Story showing. All of this Christmas joy would happen within 24 hours. 

The movie, A Christmas Story, was the thread that connected my Christmas experience every year, the disjointed, multi-family, celebration marathon that it was. I waited until the last minute to enjoy this movie this year because I was afraid of my reaction. I knew I’ve been bottling all my emotions about this Christmas. I have to spend my first Christmas without my family this year because I have COVID. Instead of continuing to depend on my coping skills, I needed to process this change. It’s my hope that one person who may make it this far in my rambling and who has to celebrate the holidays differently this year knows that you aren’t alone and your feelings are valid, regardless if they are positive or negative. Christmas can be a wonderful time for some and I hope everyone finds a little happiness this year. 

Working

October 29, 2020

This is going to be a quick post again. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned my job before but I’m in the technology industry. As a woman in tech, even though it’s 2020, I still face challenges. Today, for instance, I was forcibly muted during a Zoom meeting for talking at the same time as someone else on my team. We both started talking at the same time and somehow I was chosen to be shut-up over the man speaking. And the host of the meeting was a man. My manager happened to be out at the time and she is one of only two other women on my team.

This may not be about gender but it isn’t the first time my opinion was disregarded over a man’s opinion and I expect it won’t be the last. I want to believe that the people I work with are good people but I guess that might be false hope.

I hope you have an amazing day, reader. Take care of yourself.

Short Story: Subject My Night

October 19, 2020

I sat on my couch that was more duct tape than leather at this point. I was playing Halloween music loudly in my empty apartment. I rigged together my laptop and my second favorite mechanical keyboard on a lap desk I had impulsively bought from Barnes and Noble years ago. I felt good, I felt semi-awake, and I was going to write. About 30 minutes into writing, I realized that I had started many thoughts but finished none of them. The desire in me to write is rooted in my love of reading. Occasionally, I will read a book off Amazon and think to myself, “I could definitely write better than that.” 

To this point in my life, I never actually wrote a complete story. I even enrolled in a creative writing course through some scam of a website, definitely not affiliated with any respectable school. I ghosted that program the second I realized the teacher and I did not agree on what was quality writing. I would never say that I am an expert in anything to be honest, but I know that I enjoy writing in a certain way, and no one could persuade me otherwise. 

At some point, I believed in between college and grad school, I had convinced myself that I should write a memoir. What I forgot at the time was that my life was eventless and I was not humorous enough to write anything that someone would read, let alone give me money. So, now I am doing something similar to a memoir but more scatterbrained. I’m writing a blog. Again, there was almost no planning or structure to what I was embarking on but who cared, it was free and I didn’t have to use my own name. 

Well, here we are. I am two months or so into this blog and yet I have no idea what I am doing still.

Learning to write well

October 17, 2020

Hello, dear reader. I hope you’ve been surviving and thriving. I am starting a new book that I’ve had sitting on my book shelf for two or so years. “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft” -Stephen King. I’m hoping that this will be a step in the best direction for me to develop any skills in writing.

I have about ten drafts in my phone of blog posts I am hoping to develop soon. One day. Take care, reader. I still appreciate you.

Sunday Clouds

October 4, 2020

Happy Sunday, dear reader. Welcome back. I inadvertently took some time off for self care. I hadn’t planned it but it was much needed.


Today, I am sitting here with my coffee and a sativa weed pen watching the Robert Downey Jr. Sherlock Holmes. It got me thinking about how we are obsessed with the tortured genius figure. Most of the time it’s a man, like Sherlock Holmes, Dr. House, and others based off that theme. I wonder why these figures are revered in media but in person, they would be rejected. I’m sure someone has written a thesis on Sherlock Holmes and all the adaptations. I’d be interested to find it. If I do, I’ll share it here.


I’m finally done with TMS. The tech was so kind that she made a “Last Day of Treatment” sign. What I’ve learned through this whole treatment process is that depression is going to happen, regardless of whatever treatment I’m on. I got really depressed at one point, I even tested out a way to kill myself at one point. I’m not going to get into how but just know that I am better now. So, even though depression will never go away for me, I know that I am strong enough to get through it. I’m so glad to have gone through TMS because it showed my 32 year old ass that I CAN be happy. I am capable.

Hopefully I get back into a rhythm of writing again. l’ve missed talking into the void and not knowing if it will talk back. Take care.

BPD

September 24, 2020

I had this whole post on Borderline Personality Disorder and why I’ve been obsessing over one of the guys on Impractical Jokers. Then I deleted it all. I couldn’t stand the way I sounded. I’ve been super hard on myself lately. And I’ve been using more and more weed just to pass the day.

Depression wins today, again. Sorry for the short post.

I Refuse

September 21, 2020

In today’s post, I’m going to get real vulnerable. I am lonely. I’m surrounded by family and friends who love me but I feel like I’m missing something. This ache is exasperated by the current stress I’m experiencing. I feel that I need someone to hold me and say everything will be okay. Unfortunately, there is no one who I trust enough to believe them if they said that. That’s what I’m missing, someone I trust wholeheartedly. Also, I have learned that you have to be that person you trust. You have to be that person because no one will be around you forever except yourself.

I refuse to settle romantically anymore. I refuse to ignore red flags. I refuse to withhold my happiness just to stay with a person. I have to take the lessons I’ve learned to try to prevent as much heartache as possible. This reminds me of how instead of taking chances or learning to deal with my problems, I put all my energy into preventing pain. It isn’t possible to prevent pain, ever. I think my future therapeutic work is going to focus on dealing with the pain and not preventing it. In the end, creating pain to prevent pain just doubles the pain in the end. Hashtag inspired thoughts. (I crack myself up.)

This is going to be a short one today. I’m still dealing with the effects of fatigue from depression and especially since my financial situation has caused so much stress for me, I’m a wreck and can’t focus very well.

Take care, dear reader. I still appreciate you.