Okay, this is just getting ridiculous.

I'm on the VERGE of tears at work because Twin1 on my team is doing her usual thing of taking over anything she touches and excluding everyone but Twin2, and I was dreadfully embarassed when someone came to me for an update, and I had that 'caught in the headlights' look.

Do I think she's doing it on purpose? I don't know - she's always been like this (and always the loudest one complaining about how BUSY she is) so no, I don't think she's trying to sabatoge me. She's doing a bloody good accidental job of it, though.

This week has simply sucked, basically. C is being - funny. I don't know what the heck is up with him, and he's made some new online buddy, and.......

Gods, I'm so tired of - just everything. It feels so fucking POINTLESS, and I don't know why. I'm truly just going through the motions because I don't know what else TO do. The delirious fantasy of quitting has danced though my head on a daily basis this week - which, among choices I've made (or considered making) that would be pretty high on the dumbasfuck scale...

It's gotten so bad, that this morning driving to work, I understood why so many people - esp. the opressed & downtrodden, fall so hard for the concept of a perfect Heaven. It gives an ending to the bullshit - and the promise that after you finish plodding through it all, you'll be rewarded. Just KNOWING that there is an end in sight makes suffering through anything easier.

Hrm. Even the potential of there being an end makes me feel better. I feel - very trapped, lately.

And fuck me sideways, this moodswings are INSANE. I don't even feel like writing anymore, because I feel better.

*tear*

Can I has my brain back, plz? kthx.

I feel like shit, and I don't know why (and that about sums up my mood).

I'm tired - oh, by the gods, how tired I am, all the time. Getting out of bed is almost tear inducing - and I'm sure my weekend shift to an almost totally nocturnal schedule does NOT bloody help - but it seems to be the only thing that allows me to feel rested.

Work is - pissing me off. No, it's not. It's stressing me out, but it's not, either. It's - it's - I don't know. I don't have words for what it's doing, because I don't think it's doing anything different, and I don't have words for how it's making me feel, because I don't have any but sad. Pointless. Pressed thin and blown away. Not really emotions, but that's how I feel.

So, I sit in my corner, and bury my head (and my ears) and plod through the days....and plodding not always a bad thing, I'm just - I'm just tired of feeling like an old mule.

I don't know. Is it the end of winter blues? Is it PMS? (Hey, I'm on CD26 - miracles could be possible!). I don't know. And I can't explain it to C, which makes me even GRUMPIER, as gods but we feed off of each others emotions.

Murph.

Stupid meeting.

Maybe more later.

Rodeo

Whooohooo!!

Mood swings galore!

Repressed tears!

No good reason!

Had ice cream last night - wonder if that bothered my hormones. And seriously, is it even possible to have an allergic reaction that screws with hormones? I mean, really?

*headthump*

Whatever it is, I don't bloody want to be here (I don't really want to be anywhere, (contrary, much?) but if I HAD to be somewhere, unconsious in my bed would be the best choice, personally.

I hate, hate, hate feeling like this. Just - pointless. That's what it is.

I think I'll work on my defining moments more - I'm already miserable feeling, a little retroactive misery on top of that won't be too bad.

*sigh*

Hi. My name's Eeyore.

fragile

So many things have me feeling fragile, lately.



Second Realm is chipping at my boundaries, and I like it about as much as I'm terrified of it. This book (Self Matters) is rather - pointed in it's utter disregard for holy cows or boundaries of any sort. I'll have to start devoting more time to the homework - my usual habits of procrastination are serving me poorly, to be honest.



TTC'ing is - going. It's taken on it's own sort of rhythm now, I think - a sort of ebb and flow of anticipation, hope, and depression. My own personal rollercoaster ride.



We've officially been refered to a fertility specialist - our appt with him will be right in the middle of our 'official' TTC for a year cycle - how ironic, eh?



So far, I've checked out clear - C, on the other hand, had 'low volume'. We haven't been able to pin down if they were complaining about the sample size, or if they are directly refering to the swimmers. We'll find out in a month or so, I suppose.



The seasons are changing too - warmth coming back (the crocuses have sprouted! - I promise to take a picture of them draped in ice), and - I don't know.



There's a sad sort of sweetness draped over everything - a semi-consious awareness of the fragility of EVERYTHING - and it's not - usual for me. My heart is tender and exposed and while it's quite delightful, it's most disquieting at the same time.



I've been spurting bits and pieces of creativity in the form of an official hairblog (thanks for going down, LHC - otherwise, I might have never left the nest), and I'm - I'm looking forward to starting to write. I can't even say starting to write again, because I don't think I ever really wholeheartedly STARTED.

*sigh*

So - life is well. It's good. I'm looking forward to it getting better.

Vict. It's an interesting prefix - goes the gamut from victorious to victim.

I'm - gods, I'm impatient lately. Easily irritated with - everyone. Everything. Life. Just - like I have a pebble in my emotional shoe, and I don't know how to take my shoes off.

So, instead I walk about, hobbled and limping, but at least I'm not being a raging bitch - which would be my usual reaction to the pebble. It's not their fault I'm persnickety.

I don't like being persnickety. I don't like FEELING persnickety. I'm a generally nice, level headed, non-confrontational person who is about good at keeping her mouth shut when - well, when it's not really my place to speak.

Oh, and I'm just BRIMFUL with good advice, and wisdom and such, don'tchaknow? I realized (bugger, need to do my Second Realm reading tonight!) that I've had those particular traits for quite a while, actually - the deep seated desire/need for people to do things MY way. I'm adult enough now to realize that it won't happen, but I'm not mature enough to TRULY gracefully accept that fact.

Yeah, I've got a bad case of Queen of the World going on, over here.

Whatever. Admitting it though, does feel pretty darn good. *sigh* Maybe it will blunt the sharpness of my tongue.

Though, there are the days when I wonder just WHY I should be less - blunt. Probably because I don't like hurting people, and I think my tongue (and my insight) can be a deadly weapon, if not used with caution. It's not a butter knife, it's a bloody broadsword.

And I'm DREADING the drive I have to take tonight - I'm going to pick up some fresh maple syrup, and I have to go into the 'riche' section of town to do so, and it'll be rush hour, and oh MY but how rude and - inconsiderate! - drivers tend to be in that area. *sigh*

I'm pretty sure the fact that I've been cold most of the day, AND I haven't eaten today doesn't help my mood, either. *sigh* I want to go home cheerful, though - that's the least I can do.

Usually a little music helps - so hopefully I'll unwind a bit.

I really want a bloody cigarette.

*sigh*

The Bitch Stirs

I don't know what else to call it/her/that side. ShadowSelf, maybe? Heh, wouldn't that be interesting - I need to go and do some more reading on the shadowself.

Anyhow. I'm - murrph. I don't know. I think I'm sick of people. *lol* It's so 'high and mighty' and hoity-toity, but - gods! It's just - *sigh* - personal perceptions are always different, ain't they? And emotions are never logical. And maybe if I freaked/flipped out more, I would be a better rounded person.

But bloody hell, does it ever get on ones nerves!

I want a cigarette - and we all know that means I'm stretched a wee bit thinner than I should be - patience/tolerance-wise.

We are looking into re-financing the house, to try and take advantage of the lower interest rates - working with the fellow who did the first loan, and we might be able to drop a whole point, which would be utterly fabulous!

I still haven't done our budget. I think - I think maybe I'll at least start pulling stuff tonight - I ran our credit reports today, so that will be a place to start - I think I have pretty impressive credit - and THANKFULLY the little 'lates' on the HD card (the whores, shifting bloody payment dates!) aren't showing up, as that would ding me, quite nicely. DH's credit is - thin. Both figuratively and literally - all three of his reports is barely as thick as one of mine. Something semi-scary I realized - MOST of the debt we have is in my name. I haven't yet determined if that's wise - of course, most of our debt is also wrapped up in the house, so - I don't know. And if the re-fi goes well, DH will be on the mortgage too, so - that should be - okay, I guess.

The amount of revolving credit we have scares the shit out of me though - we have WAY too much of that - WAY too much. Okay, true, true, that includes a lawnmower, a treadmill, a dishwasher, new countertops, and two vacations - but STILL. It's a good chunk more than I am comfy with - we are definitely past our '9 month payoff' level - we've exceeded our personal credit level.

Speaking of which - we had a 'discussion' last night. DH had Forbes, and had it open to the 2008 blahblahskippy BMW, and said 'See, this is why I wanted to get this magazine, so that I will know what's out there to want' - basically. I - well, I had issues with that statement, asking him why he wanted an 60K car, and he said he didn't really want the car, he wanted the lifestyle the car represented. I then replied that the 'true' millionaires don't drive cars like that, and what that car really represents is a high disregard for the actual value of money - bloody 80 grand on a depreciating asset! WTF?
Anyhow, he got all stuffy and accused me of refusing to acknowledge goals that I don't agree with - whereas my intentions were to clarify exactly what sort of 'lifestyle' the car represented. To me, the 'lifestyle' that would allow you to have 60K even semi-liquid is NOT the 'lifestyle' of the average person who actually drives that car.

But then, maybe that more reflects our love of credit than anything else.

spasms

I mentioned to a friend this morning that lately, I seem to skip the righteous indignation bit of things, and go directly to pissed off and/or depressed about things that would usually get me in a high dander.

I don't know if it's the simple fact that no-one can be pissed off all the time - well, no, someone could be pissed off all the time, but that someone wouldn't be me, or if it's just the overwhelming amount of things that go on that piss me off - I can't handle the overload, anymore.

So, I withdraw. I read, and don't note. I bite my tongue. I wear my iPod at work, and consiously ignore the conversations. I don't read the paper, and I don't watch the news, and I keep my circle of friends very, very, very, small, because I don't WANT to deal with the random insanity of - everything.

It's rather - I don't know. I've always acknowledged the fact that I am a hermit, but I'm starting to take it further than just social interactions.....I'm letting go of things that really don't matter - esp. opinions and beliefs.

As I've been telling people lately - three or four people, including DH - I really don't CARE what you do - I'm not invested in it, as I would have been a few weeks/months ago, because you know what? My righteous indignation isn't going to change your mind - and you'll still live your life, as you want, with or without my input. So why bother?

It's - it's not cynical, really. It's realistic. I'm still changing my mindset around control, and management, and battles worth fighting. I'm learning that I don't have to work to get people to understand me, if THEY don't want to. I'm backing away from brickwalls, and learning the wisdom of a nod.

It's much less frustrating. It's much - easier, on me, emotionally. I'm still learning (still! and here I thought I had it down!) to not take things personally.

But then, I wonder if I'm taking the lazy path out. Is a desire to not have to fight - hell, the craving to not WANT to fight, not NEED to fight, lazy? Is my abandoning of the path of the crusader and changemaker a sign of an inner weakness, or one of inner strength?

Or, maybe, it's just a shift in attitude. I'm willing to teach, but not to fight. I'm willing to share, but not to convince. I'm willing to explore, but not to trailblaze.

I don't know. It might be fear. It might be a warning that I need to conserve that engry - that - vim & vigor for a bigger fight. It might be pure laziness.

I finally got the Dr. Phil book (Self Matters) for 2nd Realm yesterday, and I want to work a chapter or so a night, until I'm caught up (I think we are up to Chapter 5, now).

I really don't like Dr. Phil - he's smarmy, thinks he has the answer for everyone, and has a really irritating voice, but, I've heard very good things about the self-exploration this book lends to, and so, I'm willing to try. Heck, the biography trick has been an interesting trip so far - and useful.

It's interesting - I feel - clearer, somehow. I feel like - heh, I feel more authentic, and it's been stirring before I even opened the pages of the book - I just didn't have a very good name for it.
Hrm. I think I'm done.

Twisting...

I've been writing in my hair journal like a mad woman - I didn't realize I had so much stored up, viz-a-viz hair.
Anyhow, I wanted to write about my ears, and I think I might get a little - messy - and intense, so I'm going to write it here, and if it works, tweak it to transfer to there.

I'm odd that way - where I write an entry has a subtle effect on the tone of the entry itself - even between here and OD.

Anyhow, my ears.

I'm struggling to get them to size. The right side is being - ahh, difficult. And even the left side is being more resistive than usual - I suspect it's because I've moved a little too fast....but, I'm staying where I am, for a while.

I forced the back holes - which were silicone 6g'd for the last few weeks to accept a mother of pearl 6g plug - now, I have stable plugs in both my back holes of the right size, and I'm going to leave them there for a while. It was a struggle getting it into my left ear, but I managed it. The right ear, I had to overstretch with the 4g taper, and then push the 6g plug through - ah, the pain.
But it was warm - pleasent, useful, somehow. Even the soreness in my ears is - comfortable.

In Realm class this week, T talked about hugging the cactus. How, we, over the years, hold such pain to ourselves so closely, that the tiny pricks of pain become numb, and you don't consiously feel them anymore. But! As soon as you start to let go of the cactus, all of those spots of old pain hurt afresh - as if they were new. Hugging the cactus, you see?

I'm wondering, more and more, what pain I'm comfortable with. I think about that gap in my biography (which I still haven't picked back up) and I cringe. I think there is a big cactus there - and I'm not sure if I'm ready to let go of it, just yet.

I was reading WWWf, and there was a thread about EFT and Releasing Memories......and it struck a chord in me - it was rather along the lines of what I was doing as I laid in bed and redreamed my own history.

I've - I want to sit down and read the EFT booklet that I printed out while I meditate in the morning, but I haven't been having much success in getting up early enough to work out and meditate - and I opted to make the harder habit my higher priority.

Anyhow.

I'm trying to figure out how to stretch my ears out enough so that they will accept a 2g plug. Do I need a 0g taper? That would be a pain. I guess I could just continue to wear the dangles - the stainless steel ones at night, and the glass during the day - glass so that I'm not pulling my earlobes down - I've noticed my lobes 'hanging' a bit more than I would like them to in the latest series of pictures that I've taken of my hair - the larger the gauge, the heavier the earring, obviously - I think that I'm going to have to go to solely glass/wood stuff now. Maybe I'll try bone again - it was just too light in the smaller gauges, but now, that very lightness might be an advantage.

I have glass and mother of pearl - some lovely mother of pearl, too - plugs in 2g - damn. *sigh* I'll look and see how much a 0g taper will be.....so that I can at least wear them.

lifelines

I have to write a biography for 2nd realm, and it's been - interesting, and mildy depressing and suprisingly enlightening. We have to write it in 3rd person (to distance ourselves from the subject matter) and - it's slightly less heartbreaking.
It's not that I had a BAD childhood - it was just - sad. At least the bits that I can remember - there isn't much joy there. But isn't that how memories go so often? The minor wounds stay with you forever, but the minor joys that go along with them are lost in the mists.
It's one thing that I like about journaling - the fact that most often here, I'm sharing - and saving - the tiny joys in my life - the things that happen on a daily basis that make me smile, and that make me think. I don't need any help remembering the upsets - those, my brain will hold onto of itself.
So far, I'm only up to 15/16, and I totally skipped the years between 13 and 15 - ever had a book that you LOVED, but had a horrible, sad, miserable episode in the middle that while it ADDED to the book, you only needed to read it once, and the next time you read the book, you skip over that section because you know what happened? Yeah, that's about how I feel about 13, 14, 15.
I fell asleep last night trying to remember as much as I could about those years - the actual details, and not the details masked by the miasma of depression, puberty, and abuse the way they have hidden in the back of my head. It was interesting, the things I remembered that I had forgotten - esp. how many of my 'dream' homes (as in the homes I dream about) are actually bits and pieces of places I've lived in before that I've forgotten.
I still haven't worked up the gumption to write about it - I think a large glass(es) of wine might be required to numb me enough to really write about it. I also haven't continued past highschool - I KNOW I can't until I fill in that gap. *sigh* I might have to write it as fiction, that might be easier.
I'm also - oddly enough - considering sending it to my mother when I'm done. I realized that I really don't know much about my personal history - we don't talk about the past much - and I assume in her mind as well, the joys from those years have faded into the background, and the bitter regrets might be all thats left.
Last night also, as I was falling asleep, Sade's 'Someone Already Broke My Heart' came on.....which is one of her songs that I've been humming and singing for a while - TheBoy and I were making jokes about how all of Sade's songs are DEPRESSING, and that particular song was my example.
I realized though, last night, as I was thinking about my dark years, that it could be a song of hope - someones already broken my heart, and I know that pain, and I lived through it that time, so I'll be able to live through it again.
Then, I wandered into the thought that everytime a heart gets broken, it gets bigger. You can't mend something, without adding a little something extra, even if it's just glue. And that something extra makes your heart bigger, stronger, upgraded, ready to handle the next thing.
I don't want to focus on the fact that my hearts been broken - that's in the past. I want to focus on the fact that I've healed. Even if it's not fully healed, I've started healing. I've taken things I valued, and I've mended my heart. No, it's not the pretty, simple, smooth heart of a child anymore, but then, ain't no other part of me still childlike, why should my heart be any different?
And in the fact that I've healed - I've proven I can heal. I've proven that no matter how horrible the heartbreak, I might want to die, but it won't kill me. I know that if my heart is broken, I'll mend, and I'll move on, and I'll grow.
In turn, that means I don't have to fear heartbreak. It'll hurt, yeah, but I'll be okay, really. And without fear, I can go further - I can push down at least one of the bricks in the walls that segment me, knowing that I don't NEED it. My hearts not some fragile, unproven thing. She's (we've) been through some pretty rough spots, and we are all the more for it. And the next rough spot - though I might want to die in the midst of it - it'll make me more, just as the joyful spots that seem to fade away have made me more, as well.

I want to include two poems in my biography as well.....I think they fit the - interesting - times I've lived in. I kinda wanna rework both of them - the first one is almost 9 years old, and the second one is 8? 7? something like that - and while I still like them, they don't catch me the way I want/need them to.

And yeah, dragon stories are still bubbling away on my back brain burner. 9000 words? I can bang that out in a day, but a GOOD 9000 words? *sigh*
I think I'll start writing, again.

I've decided to keep track of the little nudges of serendipity that I stumble across, roughly as they happen. It'll be fun to see what sort of joy falls into my lap (new label!)

Sunday (12/30), I'm headed to the recycling center, and I figured I'd swing by Lori's and drop off the forsale sign, since she didn't come to Yule. I'm there, and slightly twitchy as I was ready to get going, but I stayed and chitchatted for a while. I offered to take some stuff to the recycling center for her, and as we are carrying it out to the car, a friend of hers shows up to help fix her computer.
Come to find out, he's a publisher, and has a current submission call open for dragon stories - Lori had already mentioned to him that I was the First Realmer who could write.

So. The deadline isn't until August - I think I should be able to churn out several iterations of a 9000 word story by then, eh?