Friday, December 30, 2011

A small rant

Dear Nuvaring,
   Go fuck yourself and die.
         A mildly homicidal consumer

   At my 6 week post partum OB visit, my doctor recommended Nuvaring. "I always recommend it to new moms. You have enough to deal with having a newborn without remembering to take a pill everyday. Its wonderful and it wont make you gain weight." He is a wonderful man so i took his advice even thought it felt a bit degrading. At the same time I never quite understood how a man could give me advice about an organ he doesn't posses.  I mean, come on.
  Either way the first week I was nearly suicidal. Manic was an understatement.  I was up and down and back again so fast I scared myself. Of course the nurse assures me" your hormones are still evening out from pregnancy, give it some time" I did. Nearly 3 months. Today I couldn't take it anymore. Within hours of removing the ring i began to feel normal. Well as normal as I usually feel.

Nuva ring can suck it. 

Monday, December 26, 2011

Friday, December 23, 2011


8th. I miss this hair. 

I took this with my first digital camera. After probably the second time I dyed my hair. 
I don't miss this person. This person was confused about what she wanted. This person had an eating disorder and was smart enough to hide it. This person held way to much stock in her slutty best friend. This person had no self confidence. 

Graduation. I don't really miss this person either. 
This person thought she knew everything. She certain wasn't afraid to say anything that came to her mind. Her friends were her life, though she still had the wrong kind of friends. She was however learning that being friends with a lot of people was not good for her, it clouded her judgement on any one account. She only saw things as a  whole. Black and white so to speak. 

This person was rude defiant and angry. This person had no idea how to escape the hole she had dug. This person had no faith in anything. 

I love this person. 
annnd she loved herself,  a lot.  She did exactly what she wanted to do.  She loved life and made it so damn confusing. She didn't care about anyone outside her circle. 
This is one of my favorites. 
She is free. She is in love. Head over heels and butterflies. 

This person is also in love. 
A very different kind of love. This person is wonder-struck.
In awe. 

I am this person,
I am learning. I am re-evaluating. I am growing.
 I am a Mother. I am a wife and lover. I am a small part of a big family. I am loved.  
I am an artisan. I am intelligent. I am creative. 
I am confusing. I am illogical.  I am transparent. 
I am this person and all of these other people. 
I am multidimensional. 

I used to get insanely competitive, and think other people were being me with more success than I was.
Thats simply not true, but i have no problem admitting to this temporary insecurity.  Its frustrating when your self image is unintentionally shared. At one point it was a good thing. It allowed for some reflection. 
Is that what I look like? Is that what I sound like? I don't want to be like that. 
Time for a change. 

It is the curse of the caring and creative souls to see a need for a rebirth. 

I feel much better, but I am still not there yet.

Monday, December 19, 2011

"do you know why a soup can is shaped the way it is? Why a soup can is a cylinder?" My dad would say.

I had never given it much thought, a soup can is a soup can is a soup can... it is what it is. I never thought of why it is what it is.

"Because they figured out, using calculus, that a cylindrical shape would hold the largest volume of liquid using the smallest amount of tin. Math is important." Then he would smile and walk away. I never checked his facts. As a child i found my parents to be the authority on everything after P found the fault in my logic I merely ceased to care about tin cans and calculus. I still don't much care about tin cans and calculus.

My dad never gave me advice, not real life advice. He is not that kind of person and that's perfectly ok.

One day my dad asked me what the fastest land mammal was. I responded with the cheetah, It was my favorite animal. A dog-like cat with a bone structure similar to a great dane. He told me I was wrong, that the correct answer was an ostrich. Not only is an ostrich considerably slower than a cheetah, its not a mammal. He was wrong. I was 8 and I corrected him.

My being right was wrong. Its frustrating.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Boss fight

Somewhere in the house is a broken snowman figurine. In its ideal state it spews fake snow in all of its encapsulated glory from an arbitrarily placed hole in his head. Now it just screeches randomly in failed attempts to do what it was originally intended to do.

Initially I wanted to throw it out. However anything that gets put in the trash bin gets sifted through by a vigorously annoying old woman. She thinks NOTHING is trash. So trashing anything without being incredibly sneaky (which is tiresome and tedious at best) is out of the question. It would just make its way back into the house. (she seriously breaks open trash bags and sifts through cat litter and dirty diapers.)

I desire nothing more than to kill this snowman. I have fantasies of crushing it, running it over with my car, and shooting it with a 9mm. I have shot Christmas decor in the past. My step-mother-in-law got me a plastic trio of singing cardinals and i took them outside with a .38...  so maybe I am a touch violent.

I don't like any of my in-laws... can you tell?

Anyways, I am always very adamant about the way I deal with my emotions. I get very frustrated when sad people surround themselves with sadness and wonder why life is no longer sunshine and rainbows. I tend to let myself be sad for a short amount of time until I begin to actively surround myself with happy things. There is no use in continually mourning a life that has yet to end, and to me that's what sadness is.This doesn't apply to all people I know, in fact it may not quite apply to me anymore.... but we will see.

I have begun my usual routine. Good music, new movies, new goals, and actively pursuing happiness. Because of this routine I have quickly and effectively pulled mysefl up in the past. Now that I think about it, The way I go about it is kind of systematic and cold. Forcing cheer in my face until I accept it as reality.I always think "I need to be a big girl and just get over it" . In fact if it goes on for too long I become a bit abusive towards myself.... Like some sort of inner demon, that is in fact just me attempting to motivate me.  <-- this describes how I feel , except the end. I haven't reached that part in my battle yet. And its not likely ill touch a spider anytime soon.

In some sense I feel like my life has become a boss fight in a cheesy video game where at the end your find out the villain was your "inner demon" or "dark side"  all along.

Dont you get pissed when the whole thing was a damned dream? I do.

All of my usual tricks aren't working. Honestly it is just as refreshing as it is frustrating. I should not be able to pacify myself in all the same ways as when I was16. Some things will never change like randomly changing my hair... but needing new things to turn myself around is a nice change. A building block, a growing pain.... now to figure out what in the hell they are.

Im a bit stuck right now, arrested development in a stasis chamber type of stuck until after January. Rob will be done with school and will not be gone 18 hours a day 3 days a week and 11 hours 2-3 of the other days.  I have him for a bit less than a year until he starts his next degree and we have yet to decide where exactly that will be.  

Lfie moves forward, I move forward. The direction has yet to be specified.  

Tuesday, December 6, 2011


I have my Christmas shopping done. Its been done for more than a week now. Well, most of it. All but two people. I think this is a testament to just how blah I have been feeling.

I am a space cadet on a normal day. It fits me. Lately I have been right on track with the normal trappings of life and thats not me. *sigh* Usually I am a last minute, oops I forgot type of gal. Though things come together in the end usually with a good story or two.

I am in the process of rebuilding. Its a slow process and i was on the wrong path for a while. I began comparing myself to people who I thought were similar to me. I thought "how could these people be better at being me, than me?" Joy by comparison is not real joy.

I have grown as a person, I am at a different stage in my life and growth then the people I was comparing myself to. Not better or worse, just different.

This blankness can best be described as a growing pain. Reformatting myself. 

Saturday, December 3, 2011


I recently updated my Facebook with: Distant. I wanted people to know I'm not lazy or mean, just distant. Which honestly doesn't even describe the true depth of how far away I really am.

I've been fighting it for a very long time. Pushing back this unknowable feeling with all of my strength. It had worked for the longest time. I never let mysefl stay this way.

At this point all of my efforts to thwart this unknowable feeling have failed or fallen short.

I've dealt with a wide range of emotions at varying intensities, but I don't feel like blank falls under the category of emotion.

Thats how I feel. Blank. Broken.

Not broken down, more like an un-completed circuit. All of the components are there but yet there is no electricity. Maybe I have my wires crossed. Bad puns don't fix the situation.

I find myself staring at nothing for long periods of time. Today I stared at the save screen of Skyrim for about 10 minutes. Trust me there is nothing interesting there.

This unknowable feeling consumes me. I dont think about ANYTHING else... if I think of anything at all.
My mind is blank most times and swayed easily by negative emotions. If something irritates me the entirety of my being is angry, vicious and unrelenting. If something makes me sad I am unreachable and uncontrollable.
My range of emotions has become a grey-scale.

Maybe its the upcoming season. I hate the bitter grey nothingness of winter. Nw ohio is no winter wonderland. Its miles of blinding flat snow covered ground. Maybe if there was a bit of a landscape I would enjoy winter.

Thats a lie. I hate being cold.  

Is this postpartum depression, is it nothing, or is it something i have been bearing down on for a while?

I dont know. I wish I did.

Never the less, I will get better. I always do. I am just not sure what to do with mysefl at this point.