A day to be Thankful

This is going to be short because I need to head south. Today is Thanksgiving (and, weirdly enough, hits 28 days after my birthday), which is a day to give thanks for what we have, and feel blessed for all that life has given us. Now, given some of my previous posts, it might seem like I don't have a lot to be thankful or grateful for. That could not be further from the truth. The biggest thing I am thankful for is my friends. They have shown time and again that they are dependable, fun, and an all around great group of people to have in my life. I could not have a bigger blessing than that.  So, for all you, thank you. You mean more to me than I can ever properly express. I hope you have a wonderful and love-filled day.

Losing the ones we love

So, fair forewarning:  this is not going to be an easy read. It's not an easy write.

Let me start it off with this:  I found out back in June that my paternal grandmother is dying. They found a brain tumor in her after running a scan, and the tumor was so bad it was pressing on parts of her brain and mimicking Alzheimer's. She had to decide whether or not she would go in for surgery to remove the tumor. She's about 82 years old as of my writing this. Obviously, there's a lot of potential for complications.

When I found this out, my parents offered to fly me back to Montana so I could spend time with her, and most likely say goodbye. I didn't jump at the opportunity. In fact, I spent the next few days trying to figure out if it would be in my best psychological interest to even go back.

Minor back-story time... I was diagnosed with PTSD at age 16 by a friend of mine, and then later by a psychologist. And by age 16 I had dealt with six years of abuse and a constant Catch-22 as a home life. It had gotten to the point that I would adopt family not to add to the family I already had through genetics, but because I was looking to replace the ones I currently had with others who were less likely to add to the psychological trauma. To give my parents credit, they did get me a counselor... Who was an older male who specialized in Christian ministers... After they found out about their son abusing me and the fact that I identified my spiritual path as closer to pagan, and definitely not christian. They don't get a lot of credit.

Fast forward about four years. I'm in college, and start having flashbacks of middle school and the fights I would hear on a regular basis. I also started remembering just how often I got thrown at those stairs in the house. I go back into counseling, and my second year in realize that part of why I've been thrown back is because my parents son had cut off contact with our parents, but purposely kept me in his people to talk to, despite the whole abusing my for six years thing. And my parents would constantly talk about him whenever I was around, as if that was the only topic of conversation that mattered. So I did the only thing that made sense to twenty-one year old me who had been diagnosed with MDD:  I cut my abuser out of my life. I told my parents of my decision the last time I went back to Montana. The next summer they came out I found out that they had reconciled with their son, and they--in essence--expected me to pretend that nothing had ever happened so they could keep up the facade of being "one big happy family". I don't think I'll ever forget that conversation. I have not been back since, and from the looks of things I probably won't go back anytime in the near to distant future.

So now, back to June. I find out that my grandmother is dying, and I get asked if I want to go back and see her. Given that I know that my parents do not want to admit the rupture in the family, I discreetly ask my friends back east if I could have crash space should I go out there. I find a place, and offer a compromise. I would go out and see her and not make my parents have to choose, but I still do not want to see their son while I am out there. Given the history and my general disregard towards him, it's a reasonable thing to request. I don't want to go out and cause drama, and the best way to do that is to just avoid interaction with him altogether. No dice. I basically get told that if I want to see my grandmother and have my parents pay the the trip, I have to abide by their rules. Since at that time I had no money of my own, it's either let them manipulate me or don't go and feel like the bad grandchild. I take the latter option.

So I got a call on Tuesday from my dad. Mostly he's asking about insurance things, and whether or not I get coverage from my employer. Then he tells me that my grandmother--who two months ago had a stroke and a seizure--is down to about 80 pounds, and is not eating. In short, she's fading fast.

Most likely I will not make it out there before she passes, and that bothers me. While I was not close with my grandparents, I do love them, and not being able to say goodbye while they are still in the same plane as you hurts. It hurts to have to choose between seeing her one last time and keeping myself sane, because it's been made clear that my wishes will not be respected.

So if you know me and I seem a little more down that usual, that's why. And if you can, give those you love a hug and tell them how you feel. You never know when everything might change.

The universe and I...

Are apparently at odds currently. I don't know what I did, or if it just feels the need to catch up on past karmic wrongs. Either way, it really does seem like I take one step forward and get kicked 15 steps back.

Case in point: I biked to work Monday morning. Not out if fun, but out of necessity ( *insert generic grumbling about vehicles here*), and my ride this morning was actually nice. And then on my way home, I got hit with a nice taste of fall in Oregon. Same thing Tuesday, though the day don't even start out nice. I was just lucky that I had the foresight to not wear my work clothes on the way in. I felt like a drowned rat.

The good thing, though, is that I got a hold of a local shop and got my car fixed. Turns out my alternator did not blow, the belt just died (and considering the fact that my car is old enough to drink, the belt is probably close to the same age, so no wonder). My exhaust system, though?  Rusting. From converter to muffler, and I have pictures of the hole that was in my muffler. Turns out Montana, where the car came from, uses brine as a preventative measure on the roads in winter. So that helps the mystery of why the pipe was going bad slowly. It still doesn't explain how the hell the rust started on the top of my muffler and ate its way down. I guess it's one of those tricky chemistry things that never really gets explained. Still had to drop a couple hundred to get it fixed.

Which leads me to my next topic, oddly enough. People don't save as much money as they used to. Now, maybe I'm a bit biased, since part of my job involves me actively going through financial information, but I don't see a lot of savings accounts, and most of the ones I see have the bare minimum balance. I won't get all preachy, but take a minute to think about that. The only reason I could pay for this car trouble and not be freaking out?  I've been doing my best to put away at least $50 per paycheck into my savings account. Granted, I had to drain it to pay for this, but the point is there. Not a lot of people plan that far ahead anymore...

So I've been working on one of my many story ideas bouncing around in my head lately. Actually, two of my characters have teamed up and are creating their own little universe... I'm just taking dictation. And there is nothing more obnoxious than trying to take dictation when you have two characters trying to tell their stories simultaneously, and neither of them really learned to take turns. So that's what I've been up to lately. Anyway, it's time for a glass of wine, a rehashing of the story line I have so far, and then off to bed to end the week. Hope everyone is staying warm as the temperatures dip lower!

By the pricking of my thumbs...

... I really managed to piss off someone or something out there. No, really. In the past three weeks I have:

-had my main profile on my computer corrupt

-been rejected

-had my cell phone turn into a heater

-had my car die and not start up again (pretty sure it's the alternator...)

It's enough to make a girl wonder which deity out there she pissed off. There's having a crappy time, and then there's being put through the metaphysical wringer. I feel like I've been in the latter. Though the fall out from losing my car has shown me that I have some of the best friends ever.

There's a lot I could say, but I find that right now I like having the memories of how this weekend went staying mostly between me and the people I spent the time with. Though, I have to admit, I've managed to get 19227 steps in one day since I do not have a car. That much walking is exhausting. Stay tuned for how much it might take to get the car either fixed or sold... That will be a fun email to write.

Nightly routines, and the dangers of being an introvert in a new place

I had a friend make a comment that they were worried about me in my current situation. Not because I'm living in a place fraught with danger, but because it had been noticed that I really do not socialize outside of work. In a lot of cases I wake up, go to work, come home, and either go wander downtown (though that might taper off some now that I'm level 8 in Ingress. I can't keep melting phones...) or go to one of the two cities that offer dance on Wednesday night (neither of them being the city where I live...). This friend kept pushing me to try some of the meet up sites and apps to go out and meet people in my area. While I appreciate the thought and the feelings behind the idea, I doubt that I will ever check out one of those. Why not? Right now, I don't have a lot of time, and in the long term using something like that just does not interest me. I'm more introverted than extroverted, and I've found that large groups do not make me comfortable. If anything, if I'm in large group and don't have people I know near that I can go glom on to (or a few leads I know that I can ask to dance if I'm in a dance situation), I'm not going to enjoy myself.  To help explain, here is a picture I keep seeing floating around the internet:  http://www.intellectualbubblegum.com/want-to-understand-introverts-read-this-cartoon-dr-carmellas-guide-to-understanding-the-introverted/.html . The fourth picture on the left?  That's me after a day of work, most often. I spend my day having to interact with people that, if I had a choice, 99.5% of the time I would not spend time with them of my own volition. I come home from my day drained of energy, and the last thing I want to do is go expend more with people who may or may not be worth a long term energy investment. Is it harsh?  Yeah. Is there truth in what I say?  For me, yes.

One of my problems with my current sleep schedule is that I do not have an easy time getting up in the morning. Between the random spaz schedule of my four-footed daughter and the insomnia I currently have during the week (again, back to work, though this has more to do with trying to think ahead of what needs to get done, what did not get done, and some freaking out about clients' cases), by the time my alarm goes off in the morning, I might have managed to snag about 6 hours. And for me?  Six hours is not enough. So I'm trying to come up with a routine to help me decompress and get ready for bed. So far my best idea has been to start a nightly yoga routine. This is somewhat counter-intuitive, because I've read multiple articles about shutting down electronics at least two hours before going to bed for the night (says the author at 22:34...), and doing a yoga routine would require a screen of some sort for a while, until the routine is ingrained enough to be done without reminders. If anyone has any other suggestions, I'd be open to those as well!

Anyway, as previously stated I need to actually get ready for bed and try to sleep some. Hope everyone out there is having a comfortable fall!  Thanks for reading. =)

Rejection, reading, and melting cell phones?

Yeah, you read that final part right. Suffice it to say that I have somehow pissed off the tech gods, and they have decided to collect in full. Why can't there be a karmic bankruptcy? I know the procedures, I could file all the necessary paperwork, and I might even know some of the correct statutes to protect my karmic assets. But I digress.

So, the thing is, I managed to melt my cell phone battery. Maybe not physically, but it has definitely lost its ability to hold a charge. And it started on Friday morning after I let my phone do its software update. In short, I went from having a cute Android robot spinning its gears to having a hand sized electronic heater for about 20 minutes first thing on my Friday morning. Troubleshooting did not work--and I tried multiple times, including while on chat with the customer service rep--and it wasn't until I got home and plugged my phone in that I discovered that I had gone from full charge (or uber close to full charge) to less than 3% battery as a result of the heating brick process that I did not ask my phone to initiate. So while I have a phone, I can no longer trust its battery life, and must therefore use the thing sparingly until it can get replaced.

Now, onto the main topic that has plagued me for the last week:  rejection.  I have never been good at handing out rejections, and I am even worse at receiving them. Looking back, I find that I tend to run away from the people I do not want to reject in a misguided effort to spare their feelings, and when I get rejected, my body basically decides that eating is not the best thing to happen, and any attempt will be met with great annoyance and the threat of losing whatever was put in my stomach.

Why do I bring this up? Well, last weekend I got hit with rejection again. Yeah, I got rejected on the weekend I celebrated another year of life on this planet. Talk about crappy timing. Now, granted, the rational part of my mind knew--and has known for a while--that the person I was looking to get involved with would not be a good long term match. Call it my INFJ intuition, or my Scorpio sense, or just plain experience, but I knew that it would not work out long term and attempting that would cause more heartache than happiness. So why did I, regardless, attempt to see if that connection could be made? Curiosity. I had had multiple outside sources make the same sort of comments about how it might not be so bad to look at exploring that possible romantic connection that my curiosity overruled my common sense. Have you ever tried arguing with your curious nature? It's like taking on a highly intelligent four year old. They want to know why, and saying "Because I said so" no longer works. So I admitted my feelings, and got told that the deck was stacked against me in the possibility of the connection working out, and that the other party would most likely not consider a possible review, which I likened to being served with notice of a Default Judgment without ever being served a Summons or Complaint and given a chance to argue my side. He agreed that this was at least somewhat true, but said that he would most likely not change his mind. And, the kicker is, I value the other aspects of the relationship between this person and myself too much to let the rejection of the romantic aspect ruin everything else. This person is too essential a part of my life. But that doesn't make the sting of rejection hurt any less, and it doesn't make it any easier to feel like I've been handed the slick short end of the stick and expected to hold on against an onslaught of epic proportions.

Which brings me to my next topic of reading... Or, in my case, scouring the public library to find books to help me understand the situations I face and build a better repertoire of actions to use in the face of said experiences. The books I'm referencing in this case is called Compassion and Self-Hate:  an Alternative to Despair by Theodore I. Rubin. I've been reading this book during my infrequent breaks and semi-regular lunches at work. It's a tough read, to be honest. I keep finding similarities between myself and some of the patients Dr. Rubin describes. He makes one of the most startling hypotheses I've read in a while, though. He believes that depression is addicting, because of its ability to dampen all emotions to within a manageable level of no peaks and troughs. He points out that some people don't even realize that they are depressed until they have a moment of pure happiness, and in comparing that to their regular lives, they then realize just how depressed they actually are. There are a lot of patient synopses that I have read in the first few chapters that strike such a chord with the way I've felt for a while that it makes it hard to continue reading. I keep slugging through, though, because I have this somewhat optimistic hope that this book--in addition to the others of my latest batch--might help me in some of the soul-searching that I might otherwise not be able to accomplish due to my mind's ability to bounce into too many places to count all at once, despite the mental Mason jars. I know that meditation and mindfulness are a process, but there are days when I get overly critical of my ability to let things go and concentrate on something simple like my breath.

Anyway, it's about quarter to 00:00 my time. I've had an entire pot of mulled wine (given my experiences of the past week, I wanted a chance to get a little tipsy and let my fingers play fast and loose with a keyboard), and I need to sleep while I can. I hope that you enjoy this rambling post and stay with me for the long haul, even after the personal revelations I've given. ^^;; Buena notte tutti!

On Goals, Pooh, and Mindfulness

I know, having these three things connect is probably weird to some people. There is a connection between the three, though, I promise.

On Sunday I finished a book called The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff. This book talked about Taoism, and used Winnie the Pooh as a prime example of how to live one's life in the moment.

A couple of chapters really stuck with me as I read it.. Partially for what they said, and partially because of the mindset I was in when I read them. The first thing that stuck with me was letting things go and not hanging onto them, be it problems, people, situations... Which is not what I have done. I tend to hold on to things. Some things I hold on to because they were an important part of my life, while others I hold on to for learning purposes, and to serve as a potential warning for future situations. I am looking for ways to work on letting go of the past and living in the present... So I went and grabbed about 9 more books from the public library. ^^;;

Another thing I found interesting was the idea that there is a sadness in achieving a goal. Up until I read that, I had never consciously though about goals that way, but I can see how it makes sense. It comes back to being mindful and living in the moment. Instead of concentrating on the end result. So I decided to try an experiment this month. I've set about 4 goals for the month, and have mini ones each week. Instead of trying to concentrate on the end result, I'm doing my best to track the weekly goals and see how they fit into my monthly goals, then adjust from there. It might sound weird, but it works a little better for me than beating myself up over not accomplishing something.

I apologize if some of the posts do not follow a coherent order. Consider it a glimpse into my mind. ;)  Thanks for reading!

Day 4/Day 8770

This marks four days after celebrating my 24th year surviving on this self-propelled ship around the sun through the universe. So I decided that I want to do something to track this upcoming year. And to do that, my genius idea is to do a blog to recapture the daily, the special, and the momentous occasions of this, my 24th year.

I guess I should give some background about myself. Born and raised in the largest "city" in Montana. I'm the youngest, but I do not claim my parents' biological son as any part of my family (it's a long story that will be glanced over here. If I feel like expanding some time in the future, then I will). MOVE to Oregon for school in 2008, and fell in love with the place--especially the ocean. Graduated with my bachelors degree in four years--after some realization about myself, a minor change in my major, and almost completely dropping out so I could get residency--moved to Italy for three months to work as an au pair, came back to Oregon, and after finishing my post-bacc finally got a job in Salem. Been living in the Capital for about 5 months (only about 2.5 in my own place). Oddly enough, it reminds me of the town I grew up in. I guess things can come full circle, eh?

So why am I writing this? Because it is a new year for me, and I want to see if I can keep a commitment to update semi-regularly (2-3 times a week, but not on specified days), and use this to improving my writing habits. The thing is, I have multiple stories stories bouncing around in my mind, but it seems like every time I sit down to work on them, I lose track of what the characters were saying. My thought is to write something else on a regular basis, use the notebook I write in to also keep track of the story ideas, and hopefully by Halloween 2014 I will have a story finished and ready to be published. Ideally I want to get the first draft done by the Vernal Equinox. Some days, though, motivation can be hard to come by. That's where this blog comes in. I might put out ideas, and I will definitely ask for feedback from whoever does decide to read. Who knows? I might even send a chapter out to anyone who would want to help edit. This blog is mostly for me, but can be for other people.

If you've stayed this far, congrats and grazie. I hope that you'll hang on for this trip. It's going to be an interesting--and possibly entertaining--one.  Have a good night!