hypocrisy, my lord!

I’m tired of being nice: how many times are these Rapture fuckwits going to be wrong and move the dates until they realise that they’re either genuinely going through something, or that grifting with definite dates is never a good idea?

If my literally, actually, diagnosed ß ass seeing numbers on a digital clock means nothing except I’m late again, your seeing a company with “on time” on its logo means even less, because you motherfuckers are supposed to be stone cold sane. And I cannot count how many times I have been told that all my physical problems (because the brain is a physical organ and my mental illness is that physical organ malfunctioning) would disappear if I just “turned to Jesus” (instantly assuming what my relationship to Jesus is, mind you!)

“That was definitely a thing that happened.”

So much has happened. So much. I thought things would untangle over September; they really didn’t. They tangled further. So dot points, because I can hardly think in a straight line.

Let’s start with the medical shite.

  • the cancer scare has been downgraded to “if the next exams come up clear, you’re all good!”, which I am endlessly, crazily, gloriously grateful for. Not just for my own sake, but for everyone who was worried about me. (Apparently my Dad took it very hard; I feel horribly guilty about that, which is stupid and I know it, but…there it is. :/)
  • we have an answer to all the symptoms: ME/CFS. (Sod the CFS, actually, I’m just using “ME” because that’s what it was originally called, and is far more accurate a term.) I have myalgic encephalomyelitis. I’ve probably had it since I had COVID the first time.
  • this means that all my future plans — turning my life around and becoming a doula+midwife, which I was so serious about I cut eight inches off my hair to mark, y’know, a decision made seriously and happily and with hope — are now in the bin. I don’t have a big enough ‘energy envelope’ to go back to university studies. Any of them.
  • I’m going over everything I do on the daily to try and get better at knowing where my limits are, what triggers things, what helps, what hinders, etc etc etc. It’s important, and knowledge is power, bluh bluh bluh, but it’s just…so frustrating and trying to condition myself into basically stalking myself is unfun. Yeah. Unfun. And saddening.

Emotional shite.

  • It’s really fucking difficult to cope with people you admire and dare I say, love, associating with people who purposefully went out of their way to hurt you, for god alone knows what reason. (Clout, I guess.)  But I’m not like She Who Must Not Be Named; I don’t dictate who my friends can and can’t be friends with. It just…hurts. To see layouts by someone and links to someone who didn’t even have enough honour in them to come directly to me with their problem, but instead spread it all over a certain forum. Lying.
  • Sometimes I just wish I’d never started making fanlistings whatsoever. I’ve quit absolutely now, and quite frankly find a lot of the staff members outright dismissive of problems I brought to them, in good faith. I am done with the vileness that is T(A)FL; but I just wish I’d never started, back in ’16. The community is a pit of vipers.
  • I just realised; fanlistings in general are probably one of the things that exacerbate my ME symptoms (because yes, emotional and mental turbulence also sucks up your energy).

And we’ll end with the far more palatable Things That DON’T Suck!

  • Our local pale-headed rosella couple have decided to start nesting…in my brushtail possum’s box. Poor Eustace has been essentially evicted from his former home and Helyanwion and Vilyaranel have moved in. Eustace essentially shrugged his shoulders, and just moved “over the road” to the first possum box. Bothered? Nah mate, that takes too much energy. XD
  • It’s absolutely delightful to watch the rosella couple go in and out of their new nest, peeking outside when a sound worries them a bit too much or just out of curiosity. I think Vinyaranel has already laid eggs, or is going to very very soon. ♥
  • Recipes for my family that have the tick of approval: Mum’s Teacupcakes, and mulberry muffins. Also, Dad declared that my peanut butter fudge is better than his favourite lollies. I just about passed out. Gonna have to do a pantry restock very soon…and pick more mulberries!
  • I’ve almost perfected my microwave cinder toffee. Almost. And semi-successfully made a cake-in-a-mug into really tiny cupcakes! No idea where I found those tiny little muffin papers, but hey!
  • Started beta-testing a cute game called EverGrove Idle: Grow Magic. It’s just your regular sort of idle game, I think, but…I’m kind of in love with a couple of the characters already? The visual-novel romance part of the narrative unrolls as your reach certain levels, and I’m just like…(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄  when can I ask Seren to marry me she is my silver sparkling star she is EVERYTHING?! And can I kiss the Warden if only to see him smile? fdjskalfdja;j
  • Playing all the Tsuki games now, but still loving Odyssey the best. I’ve unlocked the area between Momo’s teahouse and Bobo’s ramen cart, FINALLY! First thing I did was put up a row of very bushy trees between the two, plopped a waterfall beside Bobo’s cart (ambience, y’know?), and as a sign of trying to keep the peace…we have a Peace Lemon tree. It belongs to both of them — because lemon is a common tea accompaniment, and Frith alone knows what Bobo puts in his weirder creations, so. They both share the fruit of the tree and try to get along, as far apart as possible and with a line of greenery between them. XD Sigh. I wish I could create a bedroom for Pipi, or put more elegant things in Scarlett’s loft…(I need to do a whole stupid post about Tsuki nonsense, don’t I? XD)
  • pondering starting up a new Stardew Valley game, seeing as there’s going to be a lot of sitting around and stuffing energy into an envelope desperately in my future.

Murasaki Shikibu was wa-la-wa~, change my mind. Not sure where to put that, so it’s here, and also, you’ll never change my mind. ♥

heavy

freaked out about some stuff so I made some fudge. as one does. first time using condensed milk + the microwave; we’ll see how it turns out.

I just…do not like this timeline. at all. I don’t belong in it, it’s breaking my heart a little more every day, it’s horrible and savage and fucked-up and just poisonous. living in it is like breathing in noxious fumes every day. I keep trying to remember that there’s wonder and beauty and magic(k) in this place, but it’s so damn hard. it’s difficult to breathe and difficult to live and just…difficult.

these are difficult times. it seems like such a weak word for what’ s going on, both on a interpersonal and intrapersonal, micro and macro level, but that’s what it is. it’s difficult. or, well, perhaps Difficult. there’s a capital there; you can hear it. all heavy.

down bad like I lost myself

Awakened at 2pm last night with killer stomach cramps and the glorious fun actions those entail, so the very important appointment I had for…let’s just call it “universe with shrimp complications”, yeah…had to be cancelled. So…now, more waiting. It’s the bloody waiting that makes everything a thousand times worse, but…what can you do? I can’t afford private health care. End of story.

I still feel like absolute and utter shite, and can’t eat anything without paying for it, and to sweeten the deal, my nerves decided to throw another attack at me. charming. the only option was a bloody benzo, so…expect me feeling low for the next couple of days, very possibly. I couldn’t take the twistpain; I’d rather be sobbing about how my ex-girlfriends and abusers treated me than enduring trying to literally break my own joints in an attempt to not feel so…horrific.

One of the worst things about nerve pain is that it’s close to sodding impossible to describe — it doesn’t feel like anything else other than itself, and if someone hasn’t experienced it…you’re SOL trying to get them to understand. Even the RLS can be tricky to explain…it’s not that my leg (or in my case, ANY body part) is moving without me wanting to, it’s just that if I don’t move it, the weird pressure-pain will build and build until the RLS makes me move it. Even that doesn’t make much sense…

I’ve been having very detailed, very bizarre dreams lately. They’re not wholly nightmarish, really, just weird, but it’s still odd to me. I went through this long, long period of only seldom dreaming — and now, even naps cough up some very weird subconscious cinema. Not sure what that’s all about, but as long as it’s not the recurring “losing my old home” dream, in any form whatsoever. I’m so sick of crying; I’d like to at least start a morning tear-free.

you make me feel worse than I already feel, and I feel like someone is driving a star picket through my lower back, sooooo….

What you need to do when I ask for a painkiller: Give me a fucking painkiller.

What you don’t need to do when I ask for a painkiller: Sigh in consternation, comment about how it’s the second to last dose on the card and once we’re out that’s it there’s no more, point out that I’ve “hit this card really hard” (sorry about that, still trying to get my pain scheduled over the month, you know? I can’t quite work out how, but it MUST be possible, the way you act), generally plunge me into the highly distressed mood I am now and exacerbate the pain I’m already in tenfold.

It’s always “you need to ask for one when you need one!” or “you shouldn’t ask for one, you’ve had too many!” and I’m sorry, I’m not a fucking mindreader so I don’t know which one it is at any given time. If you could send me a schedule of what it’s going to be on what day, that would be great with the whole scheduling my pain thing, too. Thanks!

You fucking people wonder why I’m a fucking suicidal addict, honestly? Do you really?

some things are certain.

You know that place between sleep and awake, that place where you still remember dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.

well, that’s just rude, at this point.

Listen, subconscious, I’m not complaining about the fact that you gave me dreams about $SOMEONE, I am, however, complaining most bitterly that even in my DREAMS, I’m apparently doing the “senpai, please notice me!” thing. Aren’t I allowed to pull a Pick-Me-Choose-Me-Love-Me manoeuvre in my dreams? Can’t you throw me a bone and just give me a happy ending once, at least? This is utterly rude. I want crazy passionate $SOMEONE-kisses, damn you.

Oh yeah, uh…not dead? Enjoying the cold weather! Been dealing with a lot of pain issues; had to move Natsume back into his original area because his wifi adapter is just too old to work properly in my cottage. I, however, don’t think my back can take sleeping in the bed in his area, so if I wake up in the middle of the night in the cottage and want to do anything computer-y, it’ll mean either walking in the winter air or just…not being able to do so. It sucks, but come the warmer weather again, I won’t be able to stay in the cottage during the day anyway, so…I don’t know.

I just really, really want a weatherproof, climate-controlled area where I can computer AND sleep without agonising pain the next morning, but apparently that’s asking too much in this timeline.

This timeline sucks, just for the record.

a nightmare on the mirror’s edge

I don’t know if I’m more surprised or embarrassed that an article about a B-grade celebrity and her F-grade “romance” made me burst into tears — perhaps it’s hormones or something, I don’t know, but…fuck me, the situation that Kath Ebbs has to deal with currently makes my heart hurt.

I mean, I have literally. been. the shiny Australian love-of-their-life marry-me-she-said girlfriend for three months to a very loud and supposed proud “lesbian” who love-bombed me and then dumped me after a couple of weeks away with the man she cheated on me with in the next room and then had to endure all the related BS hurt, pain, and public humiliation that followed it. Like. It is so horrifyingly familiar in a way that I don’t know whether to classify as amazing or just plain uncanny. The similarities are so close that I think that’s what had me crying about something I haven’t shed a tear over in like, a decade maybe? It’s eerie.

And my heart aches beyond belief for Kath and what they’re going through. This shit is going to scar them for life and that is not fair. I hope they’re surrounded by amazing people who will help them carry on through this absolute crap.

Only one thing left to say in the end, though.

…that, and I’m told karma’s a bitch.