disclaimer

this is not an inspirational blog.  this is not a topic-specific blog.  more than anything, this is more of a journal than a “blog”.  if that doesn’t interest you, then stop reading.

however, if you are here to read about my adventures moving from the deep south up to Minnesota, follow the “Minnesota Maddness” category.

meanwhile, the prime topic in this blog will probably be about my Depression and Addictions, as they tend to consume my entire life.  other topics may include writing, books, video games, canoeing, sports, television shows, writing, and other adventures.

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“go all Henry David Thoreau up in here”

I think I need a vaccay from people. like, from all humans. even Brian. go all Henry David Thoreau up in here or something.

I used to camp all the time. year round, and as much as possible. I would volunteer with organizations too. a lot of my time used to go to volunteerism.

I mean, I have a pessimistic, natural inclination to assume the worst about a given individual. but I used to at least allow them enough room to hang themselves. these days, I can hardly wait to pull a handle of judgment to drop people to a doom they possibly didn’t rightly deserve.

and those aforementioned communes with nature or surrounding myself with heartfelt people — they would reset the innate hatred I have within. they would fill me with beauty, awe, and hope. and then I had the energy to go tackle the harsh reality that is life.

but with no vacations to remind myself what matters, with no groups or friends also struggling to focus on the light, I feel … I just feel hopeless, adrift. like I’m just barely staying afloat in life instead enjoying the waves at a beach.

I will make it a point to find a volunteer group again. I will make it a point to go camping again soon (once it fucking warms a little, because I am a pussy in the cold). and I will make it a point to write again … even if there is no one remaining to read anything.

…for now

hey there. how ya been?

me? oh. I mean, okay, I guess.

actually, that’s a lie. I’m hitting what is probably in my top three of lowest moments of my life. so ya know, that’s ~great.

I’ll try to write more later. but I am just checking in. I’m still alive … for now.

Building Greater Self-Reliance 01: My Own Pursuits

31 Journaling Prompts for Building Greater Self-Reliance:  Day 01

“The primary cause of disorder in ourselves is the seeking of reality promised by another.” ―Jiddu Krishnamurti

What is something you have or are pursuing, that other people say is worthwhile, but you haven’t found valuable? Do you continue to pursue it based on the promises of others?

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hello, Old Friend

my eating disorder has been peaking its ugly head out of the gutter recently.

 

so much so that I’ve gone back to my old haunting grounds over at MPA (My ProAna).

they had a survey/questionnaire thing there.  I filled it out.  it’s below, under the splice.  I don’t know why I’m sharing it.  maybe to out myself.  maybe as a way of coping with my issues.  I dunno.  but here it is, nonethless….

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“31 Journaling Prompts for Building Greater Self-Reliance”

y’all know me.  I’m always trying to do a proper series of sorts on here.  so here’s another go at it.

below is the intro as written by its creator — so all credit on this post below the cut goes to him.

 

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telling your boss about your mental illness

I found this entry of New York Times‘s “The Ethicist” interesting: should you tell your boss about your mental illness.  (copy-pasted below for your convenience.)

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Muted

I used to feel like I had a lot to say.  I used to think my words were valuable and beneficial to others.  that I was a grand writer with wonderful skill sets.  that my writings would change the life of at least one person (ideally in a positive way).

alas.  I don’t think those things anymore.  I’m not special anymore.  I’ve let myself become normal and boring.  I have a home with a boyfriend, a droning office job, a car that runs, etc.  sure, these are great things for me to have.  but they make for a boring a typical life.

what happened to my life of living in a barn?  or when I was a security guard?  or when I wasn’t medicated?  what about when I used to go on adventure runs all the time?  when I had two jobs and was in school for 21 hours in a single semester?  or when I was changing my hair colour to everything under the sun?  or when I worse safety pens all over my body?

what happened to that creative, exciting lass?  where did she go?  where did the Prince to all the ladies go?  where did the Greatest run away to?  the Shinigami?   the Dark Poet?  where is that crazy, hyperactive, over-achieving, all-power tomboy?

I miss the persons that used to live inside my head.  there were several of them.  and they would take charge and be Me for a while.  but now it’s just one voice I hear — my own depressing lull.

nothing matters to me anymore.  I don’t care about anything.  I don’t feel for much of anything.  my life is so Muted.  I’m Dead inside.