If I were an animal, I'd like to be a horse. They're majestic, fast, and just fucking beautiful. . .
But honestly, if I were an animal, I'd probably be a dog. Like a shih tzu. They're kind of dumpy, kind of adorable and their hair is all DF:OIEIEF.
That was an easy one. Let's jump to the next question:
What are my 5 biggest accomplishments?
1. Breastfeeding for over a year. I would say having Willow, but it was kind of inevitable. I didn't do anything. Some moms will argue that they did work and achieve etc. during the birthing process, but I feel that when it came down to it, I couldn't stop it and I had to go along for the ride, so it was sort of something I endured. Wait, that makes it sound like having Willow was an awful experience. It wasn't. Parts of it were but all in all it was the best time of my life. Not an accomplishment though.
Breastfeeding, on the other hand, was something I thought of as a good thing, but was sure I wouldn't be able to do, at least not for long. I didn't want to do it. Formula feeding seemed easier, and quite honestly, though all the research and even the formula companies themselves said breast milk was better, somewhere inside me I thought formula was better.
But now, 12 months and counting into this milky mess, I love it. I couldn't imagine waking up in the middle of the night with a crying baby and making a bottle. No, siree. Rolling over sounds much easier (thank you co-sleeping!).
Reading all the statistics and research on formula I can't imagine how I thought it was better than the thing it was trying to copy. I am so glad I tried breastfeeding. . And kept to it even though I wanted to quit.
2. Getting published. Enough said.
3. Recovery. There are times I wonder how I made it, and there are times I forget it's been years and am instantly back at my hardest times. . But each day is easier. And though I wouldn't consider myself cured, I have reasons to keep living now.
4. Making my relationship work. I know we've only been dating for 3 years. I know it doesn't seem long, and it shouldn't, because 3 years isn't long at all, but there have been multiple times when the easiest thing to do would have been to say "fuck it" and walk out. It would have been easy, but not right. I love JP and though we're not married I want to stay by his side. I understand that sometimes relationships don't work out and am not scared to walk away, I just chose not to. Not now. Not until it's irreparable. I am not nothing without him. I am strong individually but I recognize that we are stronger individually when we're together. We aren't really boyfriend and girlfriend, we're more like partners. I love that.
5. Horseback riding. I loved it. It gave me goals and it was tangible. I really, really do miss it.
<3 br="br">
Showing posts with label cutting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cutting. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
20 randoms
HOPESandDREAMS: 30 Things: gave me this idea.
1. I used to ride horses at least once every week. I miss it a lot and am really sad I couldn't continue. My favorite was jumping.
2. I have developed an intense love for hokey movies. My favorite by far is Dead Alive, a Peter Jackson zombie movie that is said to be the bloodiest movie every (judging by the number of gallons of fake blood they used). Most recently we watched Hercules And The Moon Men.
3. I love Baby Einstein. My favorite is Baby Shakespeare. Especially when I'm not sober.
4. I was an alcoholic. For about a year. I once told JP that I drink to feel normal.
5. I rarely drink anymore. Getting drunk isn't as fun as it was, and the health risks aren't worth it.
6. I love hoodies. They're comforting to me and I wear them year round, sometimes even when it's hot out.
7. JP's nickname for me is Snowflake. He says it's because I'm unique. I think it's because the day he decided that was my nickname I was running around the TJ Maxx parking lot trying to catch one on my tongue.
8. I can say really, really dumb things. Like, "how many beers are in a six pack?" or, at night, "is it, like, dark outside?".
9. Bo Burnam is amazing. My favorite song of his is Catholic Rap. "Dear God, dear Lord, dear vague muscular man with a beard or a sword. Dear good all seeing being, my way or the highway yahweh, the blue balled anti-masturbator, the great all-loving faggot hater."
10. I read Cosmo every month even though I find it sexist.
11. JP and I want to start a business sometime in the next 10 years. We want to call it the Handy Hippie. We'd go around installing solar panels and windmills and generally greening up businesses and homes.
12. I thought becoming a mother would profoundly change my personality. It didn't. I wish it had. I figured I would be more assertive and strong, but I'm only that way when it comes to Willow, and sometimes not as much as I should be.
13. Joss Whedon is my hero. Buffy is my favorite TV show. Firefly is a close second. Dr. Horrible was the first time I realized I actually like musicals as long as they're not Rodgers and Hammerstein. The only thing he's done that I don't like is the Avengers (and the Buffy movie, but he wasn't really involved so I don't count that).
14. I was profoundly fucked up when I was younger. Yesterday I went through some of my old binders from freshman year of college and in almost every margin I'm putting myself down or drawing skeletal figures. Or razor blades. It's so sad.
15. When I was a kid and we were in the car, I would say bye to every object I saw. "Bye tree, bye car, bye people. . "
16. So many bad things have happened to me that when I think or talk about them sometimes I forget one or two. "Oh, yeah! I forgot that happened too."
17. The last few years are the first time I actually remember being happy. Especially since Willow was born.
18. I have read the Lord of the Rings series 9 times in one summer.
19. I love vacuuming when there's tiny pieces of crunchy stuff on the floor. Doesn't everyone? But I hate dealing with vacuum cords.
20. This Christmas, our tree topper was Bizarro with his flag upside down. . . Oh, god. I'm a nerdy hipster!
<3
1. I used to ride horses at least once every week. I miss it a lot and am really sad I couldn't continue. My favorite was jumping.
2. I have developed an intense love for hokey movies. My favorite by far is Dead Alive, a Peter Jackson zombie movie that is said to be the bloodiest movie every (judging by the number of gallons of fake blood they used). Most recently we watched Hercules And The Moon Men.
3. I love Baby Einstein. My favorite is Baby Shakespeare. Especially when I'm not sober.
4. I was an alcoholic. For about a year. I once told JP that I drink to feel normal.
5. I rarely drink anymore. Getting drunk isn't as fun as it was, and the health risks aren't worth it.
6. I love hoodies. They're comforting to me and I wear them year round, sometimes even when it's hot out.
7. JP's nickname for me is Snowflake. He says it's because I'm unique. I think it's because the day he decided that was my nickname I was running around the TJ Maxx parking lot trying to catch one on my tongue.
8. I can say really, really dumb things. Like, "how many beers are in a six pack?" or, at night, "is it, like, dark outside?".
9. Bo Burnam is amazing. My favorite song of his is Catholic Rap. "Dear God, dear Lord, dear vague muscular man with a beard or a sword. Dear good all seeing being, my way or the highway yahweh, the blue balled anti-masturbator, the great all-loving faggot hater."
10. I read Cosmo every month even though I find it sexist.
11. JP and I want to start a business sometime in the next 10 years. We want to call it the Handy Hippie. We'd go around installing solar panels and windmills and generally greening up businesses and homes.
12. I thought becoming a mother would profoundly change my personality. It didn't. I wish it had. I figured I would be more assertive and strong, but I'm only that way when it comes to Willow, and sometimes not as much as I should be.
13. Joss Whedon is my hero. Buffy is my favorite TV show. Firefly is a close second. Dr. Horrible was the first time I realized I actually like musicals as long as they're not Rodgers and Hammerstein. The only thing he's done that I don't like is the Avengers (and the Buffy movie, but he wasn't really involved so I don't count that).
14. I was profoundly fucked up when I was younger. Yesterday I went through some of my old binders from freshman year of college and in almost every margin I'm putting myself down or drawing skeletal figures. Or razor blades. It's so sad.
15. When I was a kid and we were in the car, I would say bye to every object I saw. "Bye tree, bye car, bye people. . "
16. So many bad things have happened to me that when I think or talk about them sometimes I forget one or two. "Oh, yeah! I forgot that happened too."
17. The last few years are the first time I actually remember being happy. Especially since Willow was born.
18. I have read the Lord of the Rings series 9 times in one summer.
19. I love vacuuming when there's tiny pieces of crunchy stuff on the floor. Doesn't everyone? But I hate dealing with vacuum cords.
20. This Christmas, our tree topper was Bizarro with his flag upside down. . . Oh, god. I'm a nerdy hipster!
<3
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
social anxiety
I hate people.
I hate the way they talk too much and too loudly.
I hate how they smell bad or good too strongly.
I hate how they do things that make me want to punch them, or cry, or call CPS or PETA or the cops.
I hate how nosey they are.
I hate their reactions to who I am.
Mostly, though I hate how I feel around them.
I have social anxiety. If it were up to me, I'd stay home. . All the time. I'd rather stay home than do pretty much anything. Dealing with people makes me sweat, disorients me and makes me generally stupid. I feel and sound like I have a mental disability. I worry about everything. How I look, how I walk, how my hair is, if I'll be able to get the carseat into the shopping cart without looking like an idiot, if I'll get the cart with the squeaky wheel, if I'll fuck up my change because I'm so flustered. . . You get the idea. This is constant.
When I'm planning on going somewhere, I have to think about all the alternatives. I have to be prepared. And it's exhausting. It's exhausting to think so much about something that seems so simple to everyone else.
Sometimes I'm fine. Those times, I have JP with me. He's my anchor. He doesn't care what anyone thinks about him or me, and I know he loves me even if I do mess my change up and stutter. He's good with people. He breaks awkward tension with jokes- and even delivers them well.
I don't really know how this all started. I've always been especially afraid of people. Maybe because I was the weird kid. My mom was Greek, my dad didn't let me go anywhere or do anything, I had no choice over what to wear till I was like 13. Maybe it started because I was ashamed.
Maybe I didn't get enough practice with other people. I didn't really have friends growing up. I remember two kids I saw occasionally that I played with. I mostly hung out with adults, or by myself. When I was with my parents (which I don't remember happening as often as most kids, since my Aunt Rita watched me while my parents worked, and by watched me, I mean I lived at her house most of the time) they'd go to prayer meetings. I'd color.
When we came to the states I stayed in my room and read. I won reading contests. I drew. That was my life. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere except church- and by church I meant the sermon part, and sometimes Sunday school. Sunday school and regular school were a case by case scenario, since my parents changed their minds about whether I should be allowed to go so often. I remember desperately wanting to belong. I remember sneaking out to go to youth group.
I think that's when my depression became the monster it was during my teen years as well. If I went to school during that time, I'd go in the mornings, my dad would be there, and come home and stay in my room. If I didn't go to school, I'd stay in my room and do homework, read, write angry poetry, and starting around year 11 or so, cut.
So, I suppose that would be as good a place as any for my social anxiety to start. My parents loosened up, eventually, but years of self-injury, eating disorders, multiple suicide attempts, two psychiatric stays and a desperate need to belong later, things still aren't right.
I still feel like I don't belong. I still don't have friends. And though I'm much more comfortable with myself, and have for the most part conquered my crazy demons, I still feel like that 13 year old girl who has no clue what other human beings are like.
Will I ever get over this? I have no clue. I fucking hope so, though. It would be nice to think about going to the store without feeling sick to my stomach. It would be nice not to worry about if Willow is going enough new places without feeling like I can't take her there. I want to show my baby the world, and I will, whether it hurts me or not. . . But hopefully, I can get to a place in my head where I will enjoy not only her enjoying the world, but the world itself.
I hate the way they talk too much and too loudly.
I hate how they smell bad or good too strongly.
I hate how they do things that make me want to punch them, or cry, or call CPS or PETA or the cops.
I hate how nosey they are.
I hate their reactions to who I am.
Mostly, though I hate how I feel around them.
I have social anxiety. If it were up to me, I'd stay home. . All the time. I'd rather stay home than do pretty much anything. Dealing with people makes me sweat, disorients me and makes me generally stupid. I feel and sound like I have a mental disability. I worry about everything. How I look, how I walk, how my hair is, if I'll be able to get the carseat into the shopping cart without looking like an idiot, if I'll get the cart with the squeaky wheel, if I'll fuck up my change because I'm so flustered. . . You get the idea. This is constant.
When I'm planning on going somewhere, I have to think about all the alternatives. I have to be prepared. And it's exhausting. It's exhausting to think so much about something that seems so simple to everyone else.
Sometimes I'm fine. Those times, I have JP with me. He's my anchor. He doesn't care what anyone thinks about him or me, and I know he loves me even if I do mess my change up and stutter. He's good with people. He breaks awkward tension with jokes- and even delivers them well.
I don't really know how this all started. I've always been especially afraid of people. Maybe because I was the weird kid. My mom was Greek, my dad didn't let me go anywhere or do anything, I had no choice over what to wear till I was like 13. Maybe it started because I was ashamed.
Maybe I didn't get enough practice with other people. I didn't really have friends growing up. I remember two kids I saw occasionally that I played with. I mostly hung out with adults, or by myself. When I was with my parents (which I don't remember happening as often as most kids, since my Aunt Rita watched me while my parents worked, and by watched me, I mean I lived at her house most of the time) they'd go to prayer meetings. I'd color.
When we came to the states I stayed in my room and read. I won reading contests. I drew. That was my life. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere except church- and by church I meant the sermon part, and sometimes Sunday school. Sunday school and regular school were a case by case scenario, since my parents changed their minds about whether I should be allowed to go so often. I remember desperately wanting to belong. I remember sneaking out to go to youth group.
I think that's when my depression became the monster it was during my teen years as well. If I went to school during that time, I'd go in the mornings, my dad would be there, and come home and stay in my room. If I didn't go to school, I'd stay in my room and do homework, read, write angry poetry, and starting around year 11 or so, cut.
So, I suppose that would be as good a place as any for my social anxiety to start. My parents loosened up, eventually, but years of self-injury, eating disorders, multiple suicide attempts, two psychiatric stays and a desperate need to belong later, things still aren't right.
I still feel like I don't belong. I still don't have friends. And though I'm much more comfortable with myself, and have for the most part conquered my crazy demons, I still feel like that 13 year old girl who has no clue what other human beings are like.
Will I ever get over this? I have no clue. I fucking hope so, though. It would be nice to think about going to the store without feeling sick to my stomach. It would be nice not to worry about if Willow is going enough new places without feeling like I can't take her there. I want to show my baby the world, and I will, whether it hurts me or not. . . But hopefully, I can get to a place in my head where I will enjoy not only her enjoying the world, but the world itself.
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