Anonymity

I recently received an email that my Cruel Goddess Ana post is going to be Freshly Pressed.

This caused a whirl of activity and feelings for me.

I am honored, obviously.  But being that I blog about my personal struggles and mental-health, it is my intent to remain anonymous.  So I am also terrified.

I went through my whole blog and added passwords to any entries that had pictures of me or close friends.  I think most of you have already seen them, but if any of you would like the password, just contact me.  I’m happy to provide it.

That should prevent any real life friends or family from identifying me.  There are a couple that would most likely figure out it’s me from stories, writing style, the names of my alters (some being nicknames I’ve gone by).  But those people wouldn’t judge me too harshly I think.  That and most of them do not frequent WordPress and it’s Freshly Pressed page.  So I doubt they’d stumble across it anyway.

I just wanted to be a bit safer.  I realized that recently I have been a little too careless with my anonymity.  No longer.

A Wedding Panic

Don’t worry- not mine.

I just got asked to be a maid of honor by one of my good friends yesterday.

She’s actually not one I’ve talked about much on this blog only because we mostly text or talk on the phone and rarely hang out.  This is due to the fact that she had a highly demanding job and home life.

But she (we’ll call her Lizzie) contacted me last night and asked me to be her maid of honor.

I’m floored by the request.  I know it’s a big deal and I’m super flattered to be asked.  But I also know it entails some real responsibility (she already asked me to come over this week and help her go through possibilities).
I love Lizzie, she is a wonderful woman and one the few who stuck with me during my pregnancy and even after the Jeff fiasco.

But I’ve never even been to a wedding.  Much less been a part of one.

I’ve seen “27 Dresses” and “My Best Friend’s Wedding”, and it seems like a maid of honor has some big responsibilities.  I certainly don’t want to throw a crummy bachorlette party.

Thankfully the wedding isn’t until October.  But apparently this stuff needs lots of advanced planning.  And Lizzie is a huge pre-planning-type person, so I have a feeling we’ll be doing stuff from now up until the actual day.

She did say I get to pick out my own dress, which I’m thankful for.  Hopefully no heinous bridesmaid gown for me.  But she’s talking about already picking out her dress and I’m worried I’m supposed to pick mine out really early, which is a terrible idea with my constant weight fluctuating.  Can they re-size it closer to the date?  Will it look as good?  I don’t want to ruin the look of her wedding by looking like I’m wearing an ill-fitting dress.

I think I can manage it though.  Through the advice of other friends (Hannah’s been particularly helpful) and the magic of the internet.

The Cruel Goddess Ana

Trigger warning for a more in-depth discussion of my eating disorder issues and mentioning of my (stupid) perusal of pro-Ana websites.
I do not want to encourage any eating disorders.  That is not my intent with this post at all.  Please let me know if you find it “pro-eating disorder” because I am not in that mindset, despite my struggle.
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This week is National Eating Disorder Awareness week.  Unfortunately, what it’s done for me is just made me more aware of mine and the fact that I am no where near a stable recovery (though I am trying).

I slipped up today in my perusing of eating disorder blogs.  Usually I’m good and just read the strictly supportive/recovery based ones.  The ones that do not encourage Thinking Thin or Thinspiration or any of that harmful talk.  I found a couple new ones yesterday that were absolutely lovely and gave me all sorts of smiles.

Today I stumbled across a pro-Ana (a term for anorexia) blog.  I didn’t realize it at first because it wasn’t overt like some.  I won’t link it here because that just perpetrates the cycle of harm and I will not be a part of that.

What bothered me was the way the blog talked about the Goddess Ana.  Personifying a disorder into this figure of anti-eating, rib-showing, thigh-gap encouraging “deity” they could pray to for assistance.   I am horrified.  I hate that I immediately got an image of what this goddess would look like.  And she would be cruel.  She would demand constant sacrifice; the blood, sweat, tears, and pounds of her worshipers.

I thought we were past the old days of sacrificing young women to appease the gods.

Apparently not.

We’ve merely moved on to a darker strain of sacrifice.  Instead of a quick knife or even a pyre of flame- it is a slow torture of starvation.  It is giving that little piece of you daily to a tall, impossibly thin and icy eyed woman who says it is never enough.  Just a couple more pounds.  Always just a couple more.  Her mouth is a black hole and it devours your strength, your health, your sanity with gulping force, the sharp teeth glittering in a border of poisoned words.

And words have power.  I give this goddess power merely by encouraging this descriptive personification.  I can’t help it.  But I will not let such a cruel goddess rule me.  I line my personal angels and guardians up around me.  I do not look into her eyes or step anywhere near that gaping mouth.  I will not dedicate myself to a goddess who demands such a high sacrifice.

I will not.

And I can only hope that other women and girls (and men and boys) will find the strength to turn away.  To know that they are beautiful just as they are.  They were beautiful all those weeks ago before they heard the call of the Goddess Ana.  Before the siren’s song started.

We are stronger than we know.

Be gentle, be loving, be strong.  You are worth it.

 

http://nedawareness.org/

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Note:  I purposely put some tags that may seem slightly “pro-Ana” in hopes that someone will stumble across this post when looking for tips or encouragement.  And I hope this encouragement of a different sort, of a truly positive sort, will start the healing process.
Happy National Eating Disorder Awareness week.

Blog Overhaul

I have redone and added a lot to the blog.  I feel like I’m changing, kind of turning a new leaf and I wanted to reflect that here.

I still like my current theme, so that hasn’t changed, but I did change around the pages at the top that explain some of my life.  There are some new things, some things removed, some things moved around.  There are drop-down bits now under the About Me sections.

This is still mainly a blog about dealing with DID, but I wanted to expand it to reflect some of my other struggles as well.  It is my hope that I haven’t alienated anyone.  I promise I’m still the same ol’ Pen, just a bit of a different frock on now.

Hope you like it more than you don’t like it 🙂

I ain’t good for anyone else…

I turn the TV off, to turn it on again
Staring at the blades of the fan as it spins around
Counting every crack, the clock is wide awake
Talking to myself, anything to make a sound

I told you I wouldn’t call, I told you I wouldn’t care
But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere
I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder
Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

You can say we’re done the way you always do
It’s easier to lie to me than to yourself
Forget about your friends, you know they’re gonna say
We’re bad for each other, but we ain’t good for anyone else

I told you I wouldn’t call, I told you I wouldn’t care
But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere
I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder
Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over

We don’t have to miss each other, come over
We don’t have to fix each other, come over
We don’t have to say forever, come over
You don’t have to stay forever, come over

I told you I wouldn’t call, I told you I wouldn’t care
But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere
I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder
Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over
-“Come Over”, Kenny Chesney

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I am weak.  As always.  I’ve always been weak.

I fall easily back into my label of “fuck-up”.

But it feels better this way.  I don’t deserve good. I don’t deserve real.  I don’t deserve respect.  It doesn’t matter.

I’d rather have a brief evening of laughter with him that a whole lifetime of romance.

Pneumonia

My lack of involvement in the blog world is due to the fact that my cold turned into bronchitis, which turned into pneumonia over this past week.  So I’ve been basically trying not to curl into a ball and die.

It meant another trip to the ER, dragged by my mother.
(Ya’ll remember how much I love hospitals, right? I’ll just skip on down there all on my own)
It was awful.  My pulse was crazy high, my BP crazy high, my x-ray showed a compromised section of lung that has me at reduced breathing capacity (i.e. the pneumonia).  The woman who did the IV prick sucked at it.

Today is first day back and at work. Technically I’m not fully recovered yet (still not at full lung capacity).  It’s sucking a lot.  This level of exhaustion is puzzling to me.  I tend to be someone who can pull energy outta my butt if necessary and that ability has completely deserted me.  It’s frustrating and disheartening and I hate it.

I hate having auto-immune condition.  Basically every little tiny illness I get turns into something ginormous.

I’ve never had pneumonia before and my only memory of it is when I was young and my dad got double pneumonia (it’s a real thing) and almost died in the hospital.  And I was terrified and sad and begging the universe to just let him live and I’d be a good girl just like he wanted. 
It was that first moment where I knew that despite his distance and our issues, I love him no matter what and it will break my heart if he ever goes anywhere.

Good news is the man has been like an ox since then and has waaaaaay better health than me, so he’ll probably outlive me.

Anyway, I hope all of you are doing well.

I’ll have a much more interesting post once I’m able to breath without wheezing and bubbling.

Much love to all ❤

A Message For those random search terms

Good afternoon to you, Random Searcher of blog terms.

Yes.  Landlords do suck. 

I’m not sure when I ever addressed that though, so I apologize that you stumbled across my blog.  It is most obviously not a main subject of discussion in this space of the internet. 

I do acknowledge your pain though.  Having lived as a renter since I was kicked out of my father’s house on my high graduation day, I certainly do understand.

Most recently, at my new apartment, my landlord does not even return my phone calls and has yet to give me a copy of my signed lease.  I would be more annoyed, but I guess I don’t really have that much going wrong that I need to speak to her about and later I can use it as blackmail when she claims I’m doing something that pisses her off. 
Being a paralegal, I can talk legal circles around many subjects, but especially property management (as that is my area of expertise after criminal law).

I do wish you luck on finding a landlord that does not suck, but so far the only time that happened for me was when I briefly rented my mother’s second property. 
But that may have been because she birthed me from her loins and that gave her just a twinge of sympathy.  However, I will admit that our relationship improved drastically when she was no longer my landlord.

So apparently all landlords suck.

Would you like a cookie instead?

P.S.  In filling in the tags of this post, I noticed that “landlords suck” did actually already exist.  I seem to have forgotten I wrote something regarding that before.  Good on you, Random Searcher for finding something that was actually semi-relevant.  As opposed to my many many many many many other unrelated and mostly extremely gross and creepy search terms.

Baby Steps

I think I really am going to try being single.  For reals. 

it’s probably going to suck, but perhaps- just perhaps- it may be awesome and enlightening and I will get to know me better.  It’s been awhile since I’ve done the whole single thing for real.

And besides the whole Craig being weird thing, there are some other things that the Universe I think is using to try and tell me to stop doing the whole dating thing.

#1
I am super sick.  Out of nowhere yesterday, I just started feeling like I’d been beaten up and my head hurt.  Then all last night I had a high fever and this morning I had to take a pile of drugs in order to go to work.  In fact, such a pile that I had to be driven to work as I didn’t trust myself to drive.
(I think I’ve mentioned before that ephedrine is magic 😉 )
Sick on Vday??? How strange!  Also, I doubt I’ll be feeling better enough to go on a stupid date with Craig tomorrow night.

#2
Stupid Craig texted me this morning bitching about feeling “under the weather” and that he called off work.  I feel like a bitch, but I have little sympathy considering I was up all night with a fever of 102 and still dragged my butt to work today.  Granted, that’s mostly because I need the money and there are other people in my department that took today off, so I would get a mark on my record for not coming in (and possibly fired).  But I really don’t want to play the whole nursing/sympathy thing with Craig feeling ill.  I suck at it and I know it’s selfish, but I hate doing it.  I really have to care about someone before I’ll play nurses aid to their ailments.  It’s not that I’m actively trying to be a bitch, I just hate illness and I was never “taken care of” as a child when I was sick, so I have absolutely no clue how to go about doing that whole thing.  The most I’ve ever done is brought Texas and Germany meds or special food/drink.  I think I made soup for Army once.  But I don’t do much in that whole department.  Not my thing.  Sorry Craig- barking up the wrong tree.

#3
My coworker that I’m starting to become good friends with- ahem I should take a leaf out of Weegee’s book and actually give her a blog-name- let’s go with…Hannah.  Not sure why.  Not even close to her real name.  I just like that name.   Anyway, Hannah reminds me of Germany a lot.  She’s really smart, doesn’t take shit, hilarious, and has a healthy interest in men and booze.  However, she’s had the same sort of crummy luck that I have with men lately.  We’ve been comparing notes for weeks and laughing about our similar disappointments.  Today she asked if I would want to go get drinks tonight to celebrate being unattached, single, and fantabuloso.  I told her I most certainly would like to.  She said she’d text me when she gets off her evening job, which should be at about 8.  I’m sort of proud of myself for being excited about it.

#4
Zoe.  I don’t really need to go into this much, I’m sure.  Ya’ll know how much I adore my lil’ puppy kid.  She is my world and I love her.  It said a lot that she didn’t like Craig.  I don’t think it’s a good idea to pursue a relationship with a person my dog dislikes.  Simple as that.

So, baby steps.  I can do this.  I think as long as I remain semi-social, I can manage being single.

-crosses fingers-

Relationship Are Dumb

In light of this stupid V-day thing, I’ve been pondering relationships way too much.

I’m come to this conclusion: relationships are dumb.

I got into this whole discussion with Mama over at Mental Midwest (that was probably waaaay more drawn out that she needed to hear 😉 ) about relationships, men, and FWB.

And it’s got me thinking.

Craig is driving me nuts.

But I don’t think it’s entirely Craig’s fault (besides the creepy baby discussion).  I think I just don’t really get how to handle a relationship that demands a shit-ton of my time, attention, and possibly emotions.  I’m just not really that interested.

I thought that’s what I wanted.  I thought I wanted the deep, schmoozey, can’t-stop-thinking-about-them, meant-to-be kind of relationship. 
But I think that’s only because that’s the relationship Katherine and I had.  However, that also had aspects of abuse to it as well, so I definitely should not be holding it as some sort of standard.

I miss Army a lot.  And I’m so angry and resentful towards myself for these feelings.  I made myself examine why I got fed up with Army.  His flakiness.  Then I made myself examine whether I’m grumpier about Craig’s neediness, or Army’s flakiness.

And the results are surprising and a bit displeasing.

I’m coming to like living alone more and more.  I like being able to make spontaneous plans with friends only a day or two in advance.  I like being able to spend so much time with Zoe.  I like being able to only have to worry about my own finances.

I hate how Craig keeps pushing for me to come over to his place.  I hate how he planned this V-day thing on Friday over a week in advance.  I hate that he constantly wants to do something.  I hate that he can’t hold a conversation unless it involves computers, babies, his family, or his exes.

I miss that Army could/can always make me laugh.  He can always cheer me up.  He can always make me feel pretty. I loved that he likes the same sort of movies that I do.  I love that we like the same kind of food.  I love that we can talk about my job, his job, current events, mutual dumb shit we’ve heard and actually have a two-way conversation.

Goddammit I miss Army.

And the worse part is I know I could step right back into a “relationship” with him. 

We texted for two hours last night.  Just in a friendly sort of way.  He’s always been a good friend before the whole sex thing.  But sex did get brought up, like it does with him, and he sweetly said something about how I was the best and he missed it with me and he liked how it was always without awkwardness or extreme expectations.

I winced at hearing that because all it did was make me crave that sex again.

Ugh.

Relationships are dumb.

I think what I’m going to do is go to this thing on Friday with Craig, and if there aren’t amazing turnaround fireworks or something, I’m just going to let him down as nicely as I can (god I hate being that girl) and then re-evaluate me, myself, and I.  And my life.

And not immediately jump Army’s bones.

No.  I will wait.

Not immediately.

But perhaps…

Dammit.  I need to learn that self-control thing.

Treat sex like I do food.  Don’t want to get fat.

Patience.

A well-deserved break for YOU

I think all of us (yes, you included) need a well-deserved break from dwelling on our lives.  I’ve noticed that the whole mental-health community seems to be dipping lately.

So here I am, happy to provide!

I don’t know if you have heard of Jack Handey- but he is hilarious!  He wrote for SNL and had this segment called “Deep Thoughts”, which blossomed into its own thing on the internet and in many published books.

Below are some of my favorites.  Please enjoy!

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“If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror because I bet that’s what really throws you into a panic.”

“If you ever reach total enlightenment while you’re drinking a beer, I bet it makes beer shoot out of your nose.”

“I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without hate.  And I can picture us attacking that world because they’d never expect it.”

“If you’re being chased by an angry bull and then you notice you’re also being chased by a swarm of angry bees, it doesn’t really change anything.  Just keep running.”

“Sometimes I think you have to march right in and demands your rights, even if you don’t know what they are, or who you’re talking to.  Then on the way out, slam the door.”

“If you’re ever on an airplane that’s crashing, see if you can’t organize a quick thing of group sex because, come on, you squares.”

“To me, it’s a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around.  That way, if anybody asks “Hey, can you give me a hand?”  You can say, “Sorry, got these sacks.”

“Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he’s carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he’s carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you’re drunk.”

“To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there’s no music, no choreography and the dancers hit each other.”

“Probably the earliest fly swatters were nothing more than some sort of striking surface attached to the end of a long stick.”

“I think a good gift for the President would be a chocolate revolver. And since he’s so busy, you’d probably have to run up to him real quick and hand it to him.”

“Maybe in order to understand mankind we have to look at that word itself. MANKIND. Basically, it’s made up of two separate words “mank” and “ind.” What do these words mean? It’s a mystery and that’s why so is mankind.”

“Consider the daffodil. And while you’re doing that, I’ll be over here, looking through your stuff.”

“I think a good product would be “Baby Duck Hat.” It’s a fake baby duck, which you strap on top of your head. Then you go swimming underwater until you find a mommy duck and her babies, and you join them. Then all of the sudden, you stand up out of the water and roar like Godzilla. Man those ducks really take off! Also Baby Duck Hat is good for parties.”

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Hope you had at least a bit of a smile!  Feel free to leave your favorite funny quote in the comments!  I love collecting them- no matter who said them!