Emotions · gratitude post

Anime, Thai, and Stardew Valley Oh my!

Y’all, I have some really great friends.

I needed tonight.

I love reconnecting with people, and tonight I got to hang with someone that I met after all the things and then lost touch for a bit while o was a hermit. I’ve seen him a few times before in group settings but we got some solo friend time tonight.

We ordered Thai from my favorite place near home. Watched a bunch of first episodes of various anime. Some new to both of us, each a couple of our favorites that we wanted to share.

Then we played Stardew Valley on our respective switches in co-op mode and tended our farm a bit. Still can’t remember why we named it Fluffnuts Farm, but it’s a very me name to pick. Lost track of time which felt kind of amazing.

Him “oh we should wrap up so we can go to sleep, it’s almost 11”

Me *looks at clock on game* “no it’s only 8”

Him “real time. It’s almost 11 real time so I should head home”

Me “oooooohhh shiiiiiit. It got late”

And he’s going to help me game the games that I’ve been avoiding due to feelings for the last couple years. I’m sleepy and content and it’s a great feeling.

365 Days of Loving Me · adventures · chronic illness · fresh start

Weekend Recap

The family trip to a cabin was a mixed bag as I expected but overall good?

The place I found wound up actually being amazing. It’s called an “artist house”, because 100s of artists have put work into making this home a one of a kind. After the owner passed, her sister decided she wanted to share it with the public in the form of a vrbo.

The craftsmanship was just…inspiring. Every moment I found new details to get lost in. On arrival she sent us a message that was a bit of a scavenger hunt which was fun! And I was right, which only made me feel more connected since the piece was frickin weird and something I would own.

Wall o Dishes

I spent each day in the clawfoot tub that looked out into the redwoods. The furbabies and I got to claim the upstairs. A room larger than my entire apartment, but that’s fine. I had really wanted to do some self portraits while visiting but my health had other plans.

My happy place

I kept “getting in trouble” with my family because I wasn’t “relaxing” enough. Like first of all, I got a lot of shit going on, so I was doing my best. Second, it’s hard to relax when in pain. Plus it’s only my secondish week of being off depression meds. Toxic work environment I’m almost out of, and trying to navigate the various ticks of my family while putting down the responsibility of being their keeper.

I still don’t technically have a plan. Like 12% of a plan for what I’m doing in the next few months. Convos with my dad about budgets and possibly moving back in didn’t really happen. Which means even though I know I’m not alone and things will get handled, I don’t have the HOW, which stresses me out a bit.

Overall though we had a good little adventure. The pups got to explore more, we found some treasures in local shops, and finally played inebriated Mario Kart. I finished a felted chocobo for my brother and took some cute pics of it.

Chocobo in the wild

I’ve been home since late Sunday evening and doing my best. Started getting small tedious things done to finish cleaning and organizing this apartment. I called out sick from work today because, well yes I’m in loads of pain and when a boss tells you “jokingly” repeatedly that they hate you for putting in your notice…ya just kinda don’t want to be there. But I’ll have to finished the week because finances are dire.

Pegboard project for craft stuff

I start the new job March 2nd. Their documentation I read through and signed on the weekend was humorous. I’m hoping this is a good investment for my future, though I’m loathed to return to a commute. I also went to a second interview with a different company yesterday. Dunno how that will pan out or not, but at least I’ll be leaving my current situation.

Now I nap, before puttering around a little more.

Bonus image:

Couch fit for fairy gay mother

I Forgive You

This may come across as self centered and absorbed. I’m afraid it will come across bitter or… idk. Maybe I don’t even have the right words. Maybe I should write this out a dozen times in private before making a “public” post. But why be cautious anymore? There’s not really anything for me to lose anymore.

I forgive you Rochester, and I forgive myself.

I wasn’t your person, and that’s ok. You were desperately trying to hold onto someone you loved, that wasn’t me, and that’s ok.

You couldn’t handle me or my pain, and that’s ok.

My pain and my happiness was never your responsibility.

How I reacted to being left, wasn’t your fault.

I’m hoping, after speaking with a friend tonight about what they’re going through with someone, that you walking away without a word was because that’s the only way you knew how to take care of yourself.

Does it still hurt? Yes of course. It likely always will. But I can’t expect people to treat me the way I would treat them.

We’re not the same, and that’s ok.

I obviously wasn’t good for you, and that’s ok.

I truly hope that your new person makes you happy.

I’ve done a lot of crying this last week. The most crying I have done in over two years. I’ve been annoyed because I’m crying at the most random shit.

I cried because a friend offered me money so I could do a little fun shopping.

I cried because one baker helped another on the great British baking show.

I cried for hours last night while looking at Doctor Who memes.

And I cried several times today. One being when fairy gay mother spoke about the love of her life. I will call her Chef based off of stories I heard today.

She’s told me many times that Chef was the love of her life. The way she lights up, whenever she talks about Chef. It always fills my heart. It makes me realize that maybe I’ve never had that.

Fairy gay mother was able to experience real love, and most people aren’t so lucky. She’ll tell you that herself. Though I fairly certain you would get “the look” and not one word from her. Which is a shame, she’s a lovely person, but you did kind of break her friends heart and she’s funny about those things.

I get that I wasn’t the love of your life, and that’s ok.

It’s entirely possible you weren’t in fact mine, and that also ok.

No backhand words, no bitterness anymore.

I don’t honestly ever expect an apology from you. I just hope that the decisions you made led to a healthier life. I hope you’re able to see toxic behavior and move away from them. I hope you’re able to stand up for yourself. That you’re not living in emotional pain and fear anymore.

I will likely never see you again, or reconnect, and that is ok. These were silly dreams of a broken hearted girl. I was still putting my romantic fantasies on you. That wasn’t and isn’t fair. You don’t owe me a happily ever after. You aren’t actually Rochester. Maybe I’m just bitter that I wasn’t as strong as Jane and left when everything was so bad. But then again she was dumb and eventually went running back to him.

I hope you’ve read it or watched it by this point, so you can laugh at how much of a stereotype I am. That this is the love story I cling to. All of that was pretty toxic too. Rochester was a gaslighter, and abusive adjacent. Jane was compromising boundaries on a regular for someone she loved. People who truly love you, don’t ask you to do that.

I can at least say that I respected the silence. That I didn’t keep chasing after you. I’ve had a rough go of letting you go. I keep thinking I have, and then I haven’t, and that’s ok too. You’ve been the topic of this blog for a long time. I always tried to tell you writing is how I process and heal.

Maybe I’m fooling myself, but I think I’m finally there.

I’m letting you go, and you will likely never grace this blog again.

But what I kept trying to tell you, still remains true.

Until the end of my days.

And that’s ok too.

PS I’ll raise our pokebaby to be the very best. Like no one ever was.

chronic illness · Depression · Emotions

Proud of Myself

It’s been a trying week. Which seems to be the norm anymore.

I will say that I’m off my medication for a week now and considering the things still happening I’m much improved. I was already very low spoon before I got to Saturday. Week long migraines and vertigo. Learning how much of a cluster my current job is (though leaving it soon). Which meant I had to do some reality based decision making. Thankfully fairy gay mother and pirate queen are the ones who taught that to me and accepted my self care openly.

I’m further navigating the boundary violation, and decided quite definitely I’m done there. On another social site I posted a piece about pre predator behavior. Mostly as a reminder to myself of what I need to watch out for again when I’m not sure what color the flags are. There’s that time when they’re not full on toxic predator but one slip and they will be. Absolutely nothing I wrote was identifiable, and now Huff is blowing up my phone with more copy/paste apologies. Luckily a friend taught me how to mute him until I’m ready to deal with it. I don’t ghost. Even toxic or abusive people. I tell them why I’m done and that contact will not continue.

Man, I’ve had multiple romantic partners that never gave me that level of respect. I know I should likely not bother, and we’ll see how I feel.

Saturday night I got triggered. Though didn’t realize it in the moment. I haven’t had to experience the sensation without my depression meds in so long. Which means I made a lot of mistakes as the host for the show. One of my main responses to trauma triggers is memory loss, and lack of coordination. Because of course Bertha’s ex boyfriend is now dating someone else who is in the show often. I’m somehow didn’t fully register this, and honestly after the last time seeing him in public, I thought I’d be fine. But I wasn’t. Maybe because it’s a small venue and I can’t fully have my space. Maybe because being a host already costs spoons and now I have to spend extra to not let anyone know how bad it is. I had two drinks, which I never do when on stage. And for the first 30mins every time I got off stage, I was just in a corner shaking so hard.

But you know. Coming forward about my abuse was just about revenge, being vindictive, and wanting to hurt Bertha. Yup. I’m not actually recovering from trauma at all am I?

Body is fighting off a flare up and I’m not pleased. I tried a CBD bath and muscle relaxant, and as you can see I’m still awake. Putting devices down again once I get it all out. Maybe leeching the poison will let me get a nap.

Not being able to sleep, I’ve been scrolling through all the Doctor Who things on Pinterest. Mostly screencaps, quotes, and some fan theories. I’m woefully behind. Which means I was avoiding spoilers as much as possible, but still found myself constantly brimming with tears while scrolling. There’s so many things about the different ships, and I’m in a weird place of not knowing what I want anymore. I was fairly adamant about not doing romantic relationships anymore. I think I’m struggling with the fact that everyone else that was involved in the last 5 years, has someone. Rochester, Bertha, Bertha’s ex, pretty sure Heathcliff as well since he’s fat again.

But I refuse to date someone because I’m lonely. I don’t want to force connections because I’m touched starved (my massages used to help with that but I can’t afford them anymore). I was trying to do the casual thing, and as mentioned that went sideways. What’s funny is he flat out told me he was going to be an issue and I didn’t believe him. He told me my problem is I keep choosing the same kind of people.

And he was right! Because he did turn out to be another abusive person, that was simultaneously keeping me a secret, while also trying to “keep me”, while violating my boundaries and fuckingn people behind my back without communication. This may just prove again, that if I can’t choose people correctly, then I shouldn’t be in a romantical relationship.

I’m excited for today. I’m meeting Fairy gay mother and we’re going to WES. Marvelous thing. Very chuffed she shared it with me and that it now appears to be becoming one of our yearly things to do together. This is a good human, and she did something that is a huge kindness to me and made me cry some happy tears.

Ok. Going to try a little more on the cleansing crying and get like a 4hr nap in.

adventures · Depression · Emotions · survivor

Valentines Day Is A Shit Show

Alternative title!

“Valentine’s Day might as well be a vaginal disease”

I hate dislike this fucking “holiday”. I hate dislike this fucking month.


I have constantly been in abusive relationships or poly relationships that hierarchy bullshit was in play. I constantly have to hear from exes of why I didn’t deserve any of the things for this day because they had other partners that got first dibs or precious partners ruined the holiday for them and “you understand right?”. Yes, I understand that I’m not a priority, never will be, and that your feelings matter more than mine. I’m always willing to compromise, but I was constantly just told no. Though I do remember that an ex girlfriend had given me a very lovely leather rose one year for vday. Sadly, someone stole it later on.

I think I additionally hate dislike it because I very rarely have ever been the recipient of romantic things. Much less on the day that “you’re supposed to”. Though I will say my parents to this day still buy my brother and I vday candy. Which I have always appreciated.

I also hate how it makes me feel things. I try really hard not to. I try to let it roll off my back. Last year I did slightly better. This year I’m in my first week off depression meds. So I’m soft and squishy and full of tears.

I had the no longer fwb ask me to be their valentine. I said no. I said I don’t do February and explained quickly why. “Oh well then just be my date”. I said no. Also I keep repeating that we’re not dating. Which means I’m now trying to write why I’m cutting off contact because, not respecting my boundaries and still making assumptions…REPEATEDLY. And not just with me, with others as well. but hey, this has caused me to start a very lovely friendship with a super amazing human being that he’s also been pulling this shit with.

Recap of why I hate dislike Valentine’s Day just because of the last 5 ish years. Longer because Heathcliff let me have one typical vday and then I wasn’t allowed another one because of his ex having had their bday on Valentines, and he was tired of always having to make it a big deal for a partner, and so I tried to compromise with “manly dates” as being our thing.

Rochester wasn’t ever allowed to spend one with me. The one vday I got to see him briefly was spent with both of us crying in my car because he was likely going to break up with me. Didn’t that day, but yeah thanks. Our delayed “vday date” had a large chunk talking about Bertha and all their issues, potential break up etc (that didn’t happen until long after he left me, or so say the whispers of our small community). I also wasn’t ever allowed to do something for him for his bday which was a couple days after Valentines. I had this really epic day planned one year. Bertha threw a fit and made him go on a trip for a few days to where I couldn’t even talk to him. I was never able to do all the romantic surprises I had wanted to. But probably for the best I guess. I did at least get to take him out to an amazing dinner at one point…

I don’t even remember what year it was now…but a week before vday was when Heathcliff texted me we were getting a divorce. After I had decided to try hard on our connection and sent him a box of piroshky from our first ever road trip together to Portland. Yeah I fucking had a dozen piroshky from Piroshky Piroshky mailed from Portland to Nevada. To surprise him. I basically told him to fucking throw them away or do whatever. I didn’t care anymore. But inside I was pissed, because they are delicious and he didn’t deserve them. And it wasn’t super cheap at the time for me to pull off.

That year I was still with Rochester, but ya know. We weren’t really together I guess. Everything was coming to a head for our breakup. Which happened a couple months later after I came forward about the abuse I had endured from Bertha.

What am I doing this year on Valentine’s Day?

Signing divorce papers.


Hopefully for the last and like 7th time.

But then I do get to see Wonder Woman and crew. I’m sure I won’t be a mess. Hahahahaha.

Also I fucking hate dislike how much my lizard brain is thinking about Rochester right now. It’s likely a combo of the month and dealing with all my feelings again. It’s normal. It’s natural. I don’t have that depression med killing the feelings anymore, but I’m also not breaking down and crying in bathroom stalls at work. Which means I am growing.

One day it will stop hurting.

One day I’ll stop thinking about him. I have never had such a hard time of letting go of someone before, and that tears me up just as much. Why do I so desperately want someone to come back, who so very obviously didn’t want me? That’s what I keep wondering.

Baby steps.

My goal this month is to be kinder to myself. To show myself the love and care that others have not. I also have some amazing things to look forward to like a cabin trip with my family. I get to meet my brothers new girlfriend. He seems really happy and he deserves that. He’s had to deal with really toxic and abusive partners too (and he’s only had two) .

Not all love is romantic love. And I am surround by a good group of people who love me very much.

My now annual trip with fairy gay mother to WES is coming up on Monday! Though sadly I’m too broke to actually purchase anything, it will be nice to look around and see the treasures. (Maybe something super small?)

My ebbf sent me a valentines card. Front of card is the featured image, schmultz below. Just to say he loved me and how much he appreciates our friendship. This is how you know you kept the right people. I’m so grateful that he called out the grooming from Bertha, but in a way I could hear it. I’m so lucky to have someone that saw my worth as a person and was patient to rebuild something new.

Crying as I reread and edit all this. Not sure why, but there it is.

At least my day ended on some fantastic news. I got a job offer, for a company that can really help my future path.

Onward and upward.

Depression · Emotions · fur babies · Home Life · murphy · survivor

I’m fwiggen exhausted

No one tells you how hard it is to be poor. Except other poor people, but no one listens to them especially in this economy. The advice is always




I’ve noticed that this string of advice is usually from people who are not facing the hollow end of a barrel.

I have 13 years of work experience, with growing responsibilities and amazing things on my resume. I send out about a dozen resumes everyday. And receive about similar in rejections and maybe 1-2 phone screens every other week if I’m lucky. The job market is not plentiful. Not like they would like you to believe.

I’m just so tired of everything.

I’m tired of working so hard to not be appreciated. I’m tired of struggling. I’m tired of starting to get a foot hold and then having my whole home ripped out from under me. I’m tired of being sick (yeah I’ve been continuing to do this while having pneumonia for the first time in my life). I’m tired of feeling like I’m being punished for some great unseen deed that I have no idea what it is.

I work hard. At my job. At my family. At being a friend. I work hard at being a good person. Calling out in justices. Speaking when people don’t feel safe. Speaking even when I know it will ruin my own life. I try to have healthy and stable boundaries and try to hold up my friends and family when they’re being mistreated.

I try to give back even when I don’t have much at all. I feel guilty when I really have to say no to helping someone or something out.

It’s hard to feel like I get the same support that I see other get, but I try really hard to keep my bitterness in check. My response in late as is usually work harder. There’s no windfalls for me. That’s not to say I haven’t had people help me in the past. They definitely have and maybe this makes them seem unappreciated which is not my intent.

I know a big part of this is dealing with huge things again right as I’m coming off my depression meds. But health wise it’s safer for me to not risk losing access to them (which seems to keep happening) and go through deadly withdrawals. I know I’m making the choice to step down.

And considering I lost my job, and I’m a month or two away from losing my home (that’s probably generous) I think I’m doing ok.

I mean I’m choking up right now at my desk at my not paying enough job while I write this, but this is fine.

Spoke to fairy gay mother about advice for the situation. Like I said, she’s walked the same forest even if it’s not the same path. The advice is to make a deadline of when I pack it in. When I accept the offer to move back in with my family because well…that’s the only option I have left at this point.

Moving from the hell hole apartment to where I am now, took a giant chunk into the credit cards I had been paying off. The loss of a job only made that worse. The current job only gives enough for my rent and literally nothing else. I can’t move to something cheaper even if by some miracle I found an apartment in my area that would allow both my furbabies.

I feel like David Tennenat’s Doctor

But like 10, it maybe inevitable.

If that happens I don’t know if I’ll find my way back here. This area has been my home longer than my family home now. I like living here. Most of the friends that have stuck by me are here. Communities that I belong to are here. Whenever I visit my parents I feel out of place now. I’m too queer, too tattooed, too open.

I love living in my downtown apt and the fact that I was finally making a space that really felt like home. Even though it’s been messy as fuck because life never seems to give me a break, I still like being there.

I’ve even been making new connections, and trying to find different places in the same communities. I’ve been doing my best to learn and grow. Now I just feel like it’s all being taken away.

My friends are trying to reframe it for me, and I know I should be too. I will and am.

But it’s just one more thing for me to grieve. I’m always grieving. I was building some happiness but it’s gone again. Now I have to learn to accept and let go again. To bury another part of my life.

I’m still trying though. Which brings other possible hard decisions to the fore front. I had a phone screen today which led to a second interview with a big name local company. It would be a good move career wise, but not so in the present future financially. Slightly more than Im getting paid now, but still not enough to cover all my expenses, much less food. I have literally cut everything down to just payments I HAVE to make and I’m still fucked.

Tomorrow is another phone screen that could be a job that will pay me enough right now, but likely will be stagnant for any sort of future.

I’m too poor to even play the lottery to try and get a windfall that way haha a friend accused me of being too smart to play the lottery and I was like, “shows you, I’ve played it numerous time in the last 6 months”. Desperate people right? That’s their market.

I’m going to try a scrounge up a gratitude post soon. Maybe Sunday. I’m going to give myself the day off from job hunting that day. Maybe lay on the couch and have a good cry. Try to create something. Idk. I just know I need to take even a day to breathe because I’m drowning.