Faith

Before our first lesson, I want to remind you of one thing, ” he said.  “When you find your path, you must not be afraid.   You need to have sufficient courage to make mistakes.  Disappointment, defeat, and despair are the tools God uses to show us the way.”
“Strange tools,” said Brida.  “They often dissuade people from carrying on. “



“I learned about the Dark Night,” she said to the now silent forest.   “I learned that the search for God is a Dark Night, that Faith is a Dark Night… None of us knows what might happen in the next minute, and yet we still go forward.   Because we trust.  Because we have Faith.”
Or, who knows… what mattered was knowing that she had understood.  That every moment in life is an act of faith.  That you could choose to fill it with snakes and scorpions or with a strong protecting force.
That Faith could not be explained.  It was simply a Dark Night.   All she had to do was accept it or not.

Brida by Paulo Coelho

The beginning to one of my very favorite books.

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Shards

I break.
I shatter.
Only one piece undamaged enough to be of any use.
The rest, swept up into the box.   But shards,
They still cut, still betray.  still hide and still find.  
But don’t open the box. 
Those pieces will never fit again. 
The whole will never be whole.
All that is left must be protected, must not shatter again, for eventually we will only be left with shards,
And the empty space they used to feel.

I really want to grab a kitchen knife right now.  And Damn it I don’t have any paints on hand to try painting it out instead.  Wow that urge is strong.  But I’m trying to hold on to the stubborn me and write it out instead.  I just need to quiet my mind right now,  somehow. TV just ain’t really cutting it so much right now.
Not gonna do it.  Not gonna do it.  Not gonna!   Really I don’t think I will.   I just WANT to really really bad.

Thanks to my insides

I feel … I can’t finish that sentence right now.  I’ve had this thing weighing on me the last couple of days.  A suspicion I’ve had for years, but never confirmed.  It’s been on my mind a lot.  Generally I do not dwell on it.  Why spend the energy on something that may not be real?  But the last couple of days, I can’t shake it.  My anxiety at night has been through the roof.  I can’t sleep.  I’ve been sleeping on the couch because trying to go to bed just makes the anxiety worse.  And I wonder, is this some small confirmation of what I have wondered?  And what if it is?  Not having a memory to go with it… I feel sick inside as I cycle through possibilities… I want to write about all of this, but I don’t think I’m prepared to deal with the fears it brings.  But, I just had to reach out a little bit because I know there are those who will understand.  I want to forget about it… stop thinking about it…. push it back to the corners of my mind where it has dwelt for years and years.  How does it do me any good to have it sitting here out in the open when I can’t even pursue it?  I hate my insides sometimes.

Huh, maybe that’s why I keep having to get bits of them removed surgically,.  Well.  That’s helpful.

Not Cool Internet!

Wasn’t going to post tonight, but right now I’m pissed.  And afraid to speak out about it, and pissed that there’s any reason to be afraid.  I love Felicia Day.  She’s a role model, not just for geeks and gaming, but just for a person like me, who yes happens to be a geek, but also just happens to be a women who wants to embrace who she is and shine as herself.  I’m endlessly fascinated by her talent, her creativity, her passion, and her acceptance of who she is.  Not to mention her ability to find time and opportunity to experience so many of the different things she’s interested in.  She has always appeared to be to be intelligent and genuine in what she does.  I about peed my pants when she was cast on Supernatural.  The pairing of my favorite role model and my favorite TV show???  NOTHING COULD BE GREATER.

And now?  She’s being attacked, threatened.  Like many other women in her industry right now.  And it’s not with criticism, valid or otherwise.  We’re talking rampant rape and death threats made to her and others.  It makes me sick.  What is wrong with these people?

“I haven’t been able to stomach the risk of being afraid to get out of my car in my own driveway because I’ve expressed an opinion that someone on the internet didn’t agree with. 

HOW SICK IS THAT? 

I have allowed a handful of anonymous people censor me. They have forced me, out of fear, into seeing myself a potential victim. 

And that makes me loathe not THEM, but MYSELF….

…I have lived a large part of my life ruled by negative emotions, mainly fear and anxiety. From my experience of working through those issues, I have this to say: Steeping yourself in the emotions that you’re surrounding yourself with, of hatred and bile and contempt, is ultimately not destructive to others like you want it to be. It’s destructive to yourself. “

(thisfeliciaday.tumblr.com/post/100700417809/the-only-thing-i-have-to-say-about-gamer-gate)

It’s not hard to see why I read those words and get affected.  Of course I understand them.  And that just makes me take it even more personally.

I’m not a gamer, so I can’t comment on the main issue surrounding all of this.  And I realize these kinds of threats are nothing new to the world, obviously- it’s why most of us are writing here.  But I don’t give a shit what the cause is, people who make these kinds of threats should take a left and head straight down to hell.  Right fucking now.

Felicia Day, I think you’re the awesomest awesome to ever awesome and I hope this passes sooner than later.

See me…

OK.  Borrowing some courage from Alex tonight.  (This morning?  Feels like night until I’ve slept a few hours, so… still Tuesday to me!)

I commented to her that there were things I was afraid to write.  But I started this blog so I could tell those stories.  So, I’m going to try to tell them in pieces.  Bite-size chunks.

Who was I?  Sometimes I don’t remember.  She is so far away and I don’t remember how to see the world through her eyes.  I was invisible, most of the time.  I learned to cope with the world through observation, rather than interaction.  Receiving attention was painful.  To my very core, I was so uncomfortable with it.  And yet, I was constantly seeking it through one way or another.  But if I had it- I couldn’t dare to act like I deserved it.  There’s video of me, my senior recital.  A whole frickin’ audience there to listen to me sing for like, an hour.  I had a good voice and I knew it, but I couldn’t let myself act like it.  I loved to sing.  I hate that video.  It’s painful to watch because I can still feel that pain when I remember it.  KNOWING that… I can’t even find the words.  But instead of smiling and interacting with an audience, like I KNEW a good performer would, I pretty much just ignored them.  No eye contact, no smile, it’s so awkward.  It’s not like I didn’t know I was doing it, but you couldn’t have forced a smile on my face for the whole damn universe.  I was physically incapable of doing it.  I mean, I could smile “off-camera” but if it was in anyway attached to my own self-worth, I just couldn’t.  I was not meant to shine in the light.  That’s what I believed.  And I couldn’t dare to change that.  The very thought was offensive.

And I kinda hate her.

I honestly don’t know where those beliefs came from.  I’m lucky when it comes to family.  Lots of love and support, and yet…

Man, this was unbelievably hard for me to write.  But that’s good.  It felt different writing about it, kinda like when I wrote about self-harm.  This is a really really deep piece of me that I hate to look at.  And I right now I feel sad in my heart for how much I resent that poor stupid girl who couldn’t do any different.  (I know she wasn’t stupid- don’t judge me while I’m busy judging myself!)  And now I’ve kind of ruined it by making a joke.  That’s what happens when I get close to something in therapy, shed a few tears, make a sarcastic funny comment, and then it’s gone.  I’ve disconnected.  But… I’m learning.  And it kinda amazes me right now, how much easier it is to sit here and feel this shit while blogging.  This just might be the safest place in the world for me right now, and that’s kinda weird.

I feel like I want to verbally and emotionally vomit all over my keyboard.  How’s that for imagery?  But I’m not sure where to take this story next.  SO… bite sized chunk.  And I’ll just sit here while I feel it.  I think that’s good.

I WILL however leave you with a song…

Bye bye Lala…

Finally finished watching True Blood the other day and I miss Lafayette 😦

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Also, MAN I wish I could work a scarf as well as he does….

 

Nelsan Ellis, I love you.

High Hopes

New plan.  Post before reading.  I get so into reading what everyone else is writing and then I can’t find the words to post about my own stuff.  So here’s the dealio:  As I mentioned before, I’ve been sort of overwhelmed with some things.  My parents were here a couple of weekends ago, which was great- they came specifically to help me clean up and organize my apartment (Trust me, I needed outside help!).  But I was so sick the whole time.  I didn’t want to eat, I didn’t want to do anything, I couldn’t sleep, and dang it, throwing stuff away is HARD for me.  It was work, just sitting there watching my mom go through stuff asking me if I was keeping this or getting rid of that.  So I was exhausted after they left.  Slept for like 24 hours after that.  (But my apartment looks much better now, less depressing, so thanks mom!)

Anyway, I’ve just been getting sicker and sicker.  Feeling crappy more often than not.  No appetite, losing weight, not sleeping, more pain.  I finally heard back from my surgeon who had taken my biopsy slides and history to a “conference” she has with other IBD specialists in the area.  They all pretty much agreed that I had chronic pouchitis and it wasn’t going away.  I could keep trying to treat it medicinally, but she (and they) felt like it was really only worth it if I needed that peace of mind of feeling like i had exhausted every single option.  They all felt that it would probably end the same way- needing to have the pouch removed and having a permanent illeostomy.

I had already decided after the miserable weekend with my folks, I was having surgery of some sort.  I am just too exhausted to keep going like this and to not be able to enjoy spending time with loved ones.  We moved to this town a year ago and I literally don’t know anyone here because I rarely leave the house.  No friends.  No family.  Just the hubster- who is wonderful and all, but ya know we need more than that.  So I’d been doing the research.  I spent a lot of time over at jpouch.org and I did a lot of research on k-pouches and the BCIR.  These are basically similar in that they still use an internal pouch like I have with my j-pouch, but instead of wearing an ostomy bag, you plug a catheter into it to empty a few times a day.  But no outside appliance to wear.  So it sounds pretty good.  But I can still get pouchitis with it and likely would since I’ve had it already.  The pouchitis might cause symptoms like cramping, stomach pain, and fatigue but I wouldn’t have to worry about urgency and continence anymore.  The other drawback is that there are only a few places that do k-pouches or BCIR.  And if I have a problem then I have to fly to wherever I had the surgery done intially to get it fixed.  So it could end up being costly and still not resolve some of my main issues, namely the fatigue.

So I had a lot of decision making to do there.  But I’ve decided the traditional illeostomy has the best chance to make me feel better so that’s what I’m doing.  (It’s possible I may be able to try a k-pouch later down the road, but that depends on different things.)  So Nov 7 I am having the surgery done.  When I come out of it, I’ll have a hole in my stomach with my gut sticking out and what they call a “barbie butt”.  Yeah.  They’re gonna totally sew up my back end.  Which, I think right now, is bothering me more than anything.  And it’s really hard to put words to it, but I think that when you’ve survived bodily trauma, you become extra protective of your physical identity.  And now, once again, I feel like life is just laughing at me right in the face.  Growing up LDS, you’re told “your body is a temple; that’s why you don’t get tattoos and piercings, etc”  But I feel like “God/life/chance/universe/whatever” has done more damage to my body than anything I have ever chosen to do.  At least when I get a tattoo or pierce my nose, or color my hair blue and green, it’s my choice and it comes from a place of honoring my body and the person who lives in it.

*sigh* I’m delving into a new topic there… anyway, bottom line.  Big life changes goin’ on, and I HATE CHANGE.  Do NOT WANT.  But such is life… mine anyway.

=-=-= For the record, I do know that some people out there have it far worse or have had similar experiences.  It’s not the end of the world for me.  It’s just tough going through and I need to talk about it somewhere!

I’m going to add this video.  The song has been in my head all day… it makes me grieve for lost innocence and lost dreams… and… just makes me feel so many things.

The sun starts to cry…

Holy anxiety, Batman!  Been back and forth to bed a few times and it’s not taking so I guess I’ll write.  Sometimes that helps.  A while ago I mentioned a video that gets my little PTSD heart all teary.

Try to forget that this is a Supernatural fanvid.  It’s sort of “alternate universe” anyway, but it shows this character who has literally been to HELL and seen all sorts of awful in his life.  And then see him trying to live a normal life.  Wake up in the morning… those moments you lie in bed, wondering how you’re going to get through another day.  Then putting on your best face and going to work.  Then the moments when that unreal reality sneaks its way through.  And you try to lose yourself in the monotony of repetitive tasks, till another reminder finds its way in.  See the contrast between the memories and the present day… and how the memories themselves seem to be an alternate universe.  Not really real.  Not until you are reminded again.

This video could possibly be trigger-ish for some, so keep that in mind before watching.  For me, this was like finally being able to SEE the experience that just doesn’t have words.  It was affirmation.  But it is somewhat graphic and I don’t want it to be something that causes a flashback or anxiety itself.

video by Loki/SecretlyToDream “Till the Sun Starts To Cry”

The first time I saw this video, I cried and cried.  It was beautiful to me and I couldn’t stop watching.  I would be REALLY interested to know what ya’ll think.  Does it still translate if you’re not familiar with the show?

For a friend… you know who you are…!

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