Update: Why I haven't been blogging much, if at all this year, and some review.

This year has been one of change, grief, suffocation, adjustment and recuperation, and pain with little moments of quiet and dots of happiness. A lot has happened and I've wanted to share or blog about many things, even saved the pictures from, but I couldn't and barely managed the few posts I did. I'm going to try and break it down in smaller sections so I'm not all over the place. 

House: We came into the year, thankfully, with a home of our own. Being evicted from our apartment when we hadn't done anything wrong and the way in which it was was done, really messed me up. We were blessed enough to have been approved for a home loan and a couple months of couch surfing later, find our house. Since moving in, we've had little hiccups with the house itself. We had to get a new stove, we have only one bathroom, I've had trouble establishing boundaries, and the summer was especially hard since we were living in the living room. We don't have central air conditioning or a unit for our room yet.  Some friends offered to get us one to help me keep my sanity, but feeling so low I just couldn't take them up on it. It also didn't feel right for them to fix problems we needed to fix on our own. Recently, now that it is much cooler and winter, we have moved back into our bedroom upstairs and have finally gotten the house just about in order. We've begun the downsizing we hadn't been able to do before moving in. 

Family: I've been struggling with forgiving my parents. I think I have forgiven and understand all the reasons why they didn't come to my wedding, but the fact of the matter is, what they did hurt me in such a way I don't know if I will ever truly heal from. Sometimes I am furious, sometimes I can't fathom why what they did hurts so much, or how to even explain it to friends. But how do you explain growing up idolizing your parents and grandparents no matter what? How do you impart that your parents were and still are two of your best friends? Or even that your Grandparents are too? Or that family means more to you than you can explain?

Then of course, my Grandpa died during the summer and I go up and down with that all the time and will for awhile. 

My Aunt Laura, my mom's twin, is- hell I don't know what she is trying to do, but she's taking us all on an up and down ride. 

My cousin Tony found my Mom's lost older sister, Debra. That was exciting and she is so nice and sane. But her husband has cancer and so does she, which is upsetting. 

I did get to reconnect with my cousin Crystal this year, which has been good. My cousin Dashiel is still a shit head.

Friends: My in-person friends have kind of let me down and frustrated me a lot this year. Some have made me feel pretty awful. I'm sure I've done the same. I kind of became even more of a hermit this year, but some of that is health related. In the last few months, I've kind of reached a soft breaking point and had a bit too much. I've had to be much firmer than I would have liked with some friends and told one that the way she was treating me was not okay. And, it has become vividly clear that I simply do not think in the same manner as everyone else. Twice, when things have been so utterly horrible, I've let people know I was drowning in my depression and that I didn't know what to do. 

1. It is extremely difficult for me to put that out there and if I am telling someone that, it is because I'm in so deep I don't know if I am going to be able to climb out on my own. That is a call for help. It is not that I am too proud to ask for help. It is that I've spent years believing that I didn't deserve it and had to fix things on my own. 

2. Telling me you love me and you're there if I need you, tell you what I need, doesn't actually help. It was a struggle for me to tell you how bad its gotten, chances are I can't put into words or even know what I need, other than for someone to keep me talking or come sit with me. And this is where I think I think differently, because if one of my friends told me they were in this position, I wouldn't have to ask them what they needed, I would talk to them or go to them. But, that's just me. 

3. The last thing I need is the brush off or a lecture about everything I am doing wrong or to be told what you think I should be doing, especially when you won't do these things for yourself. 

Body/health: At the end of the day, I find myself sometimes quoting Leto Atreties II from the movie Children of Dune, "my skin is not my own". Of course I'm not about to turn into some giant sand worm that produces the spice the universe runs on, but the feeling of feeling like my body belongs to me or feels like its right, is the same concept. In fact, I feel like mine has betrayed me in major ways. I described to my therapist that it feel like I'm stuck or trapped in something I can't tear off. It feels like I'm under or surrounded by something foreign and if I could get rid of it, things would feel more like me. I know part of that is the weight. Which has been a struggle in and of itself. The rest is depression, fibro, the hysterectomy, and my back. As much as I desperately needed that hysterectomy and was begging to have it done, that was still a big part of me and suddenly I don't quite feel right any more. I don't feel so much like a girl and I actually really wanted kids of my own, even though I knew I couldn't. Having that finalized, IS VERY hard. I feel like I somehow failed even though no one blames me. And I go up and down with that too. And in the last year the fibro and my back have gotten worse, which doesn't help. And my level of energy has dropped dramatically. Some days I truly struggle to get even the simplest things accomplished.   

Therapist: I really like my therapist and I think she is a good fit for me, but she's kind of screwed me over a couple of ways. First was with the insurance. I could have had health insurance this whole year had she told me she was going to stop taking what I had and that I should find another insurance provider. True the company I had seemed to be doing some shady things. So I switched, but in doing so, we had to update some financial information and that made it so instead of free insurance, we had to come up with deductable and copays and pay for insurance every month. Which wouldn't be a big deal except that we don't have that money and were trying to figure out how to pay her bill since I had lost the free insurance. She put me on a sliding fee scale based on Amanda's income, which helped. But we had already been behind and have yet to catch up because she didn't charge me a couple of visits like she was supposed to and we didn't catch it. To make matters worse, she's been fussing at me to get health insurance just about every time I see her. What part of we can't afford it, do you not understand?! And the best part of this is, she's now going to take the insurance I was originally on! I could strangle her.
On the matter of health insurance itself, I am hoping that after a month or two, Amanda and I will be caught up on everything and can wipe some things out. I am hoping then, we can readdress the health insurance issue for the both of us. If not, that's just how it is. We are in the weird middle ground of just enough income to not qualify for free health insurance but not enough to actually afford it. But, no matter what, I know that things will work out some how- or at least enough to keep up on the most important medicines we need. Certainly dropping therapy and getting her paid off would free up more of our income for other medical needs.

The second part, is on the topic of my writing. I know she is a therapist, but I don't think she understands the writing process. She's said some things about it that made me feel like I shouldn't write. That I was spending too much time writing (which, for me is actually kind of limited since I can only sit at my desk for so long before my back starts cramping and seizing up and I have to go do something else for a while). She worried that I was escaping too much instead of being present in the real world. I can go through phases where I am a workaholic and need to see the end of something like a chapter or section of story- but that's not limited to writing, that goes for house cleaning or cooking, or craft stuff. I have used writing as a way to cope with things that are too painful in the 'real world' before. Its how I made through high school and the few years I lived at home before I moved out. I can also get a bit involved and obsessive and I know that not everyone gets it or wants to hear about what is thrilling or exciting to me or wants to be a sounding board. I recognize and understand these things and can usually catch myself in the process of them and back up. But the way in which she's addressed them made me feel so guilty and like there was something wrong with me, that I couldn't actually stay on the momentum I had last year when I rewrote and finished the novel length fanficion I had been working on. So the triumph and self proof that I could do this was so utterly dashed and stamped out that I was afraid to try. And with friends fussing about me being a little over excited or obsessive and talking about me needing to find balance between this and that, I was really scared.

It finally came to head the other night, when after months of agonizing over all this I was finally able to put it into words to Amanda. Thank the Gods she is a writer and actually understands. I am truly blessed to have her, because despite submitting two pieces of writing this year, I hadn't written anything other than fanfic and rps. But after finally being able to get all of that out and talking to her about it, I actually feel like it is okay to be this part of me again. And I don't know when or where or why there's this part of me that needs permission to do things sometimes, if it is part of my trying to please people or be considerate of what other people feel and think, what they want- or really when I started being so accommodating, or if its part of a lack of self esteem, guilt for paying more attention to what makes me happy instead of what makes other people happy, or even a combination of all of the above. All I do know is that I have enough trouble fighting with fibro fog, fibro pain, exhaustion, and back pain, and lack of confidence, that I don't need anything else piled on. Further if my therapist and my friends can't accept or put up with my excitement and joy and be supportive, then maybe its not me, it's them who are in the wrong and maybe they don't get the privilege of taking that ride with me or celebrating any accomplishments with me along the way. Thanks for making me feel less than or crazier than I already do.

Finally: I really have been just exhausted. I've been too tired to keep up with much of anything and have had to tell Amanda that the rate of comapny- the one that come all the time- needs to slow the hell down because I never get a weekend along with her when she is off work, and I almost never see the people who don't constantly ask or just show up with little or no notice. Her parents are taxing and with all my stuff going on on top it, I'm crankier, have less patience, and just can't. Which of course affects her in that she wants to go out and do things but I don't have the energy. In fact if I even settle down on the sofa 9 times out of 10, I fall asleep within five minutes of sitting down and faster if I have to the heating pad for my back. I feel as though I am running on borrowed fumes most of the time. It both frustrates me and makes me cry. I'm only 34. If  things are this bad now, whats it going to be like when I'm 40 or 50?

So there you have it. Some of it is broken record but I've said it many times, this is my venting ground. People don't just get over things and move on. It takes time to process things properly and when dealing with grief or loss, it can take even longer- especially if you stuff shit.      

  

Update and A Small Gothic Fashion Frustration.

Things are still rather nuts. The imperative sense of scrambling seems less intense. I still do not know if my Dad is going to make it to the wedding. He is still waiting for news on his end, but with every day that drags on, the less time I have to call the airline and make changes to the tickets. 

We still have not signed a lease with our apartment complex. We went in this last weekend to do so and give them Amanda's 401k information -which they can't use against us anyway because she hasn't been contributing to it- and the lady in the office said she didn't know why they had us down to sign a lease when they have some sort of paperwork done yet. Wow, really?! So we made yet another appointment for this coming weekend to sign the lease then. 

Amanda's Mom came last weekend as well. We got our car from the mechanic and it runs nicely. As soon as she gets paid, we'll take it back to emissions testing and get it tagged so its legal to drive again.

Also last weekend we did some wrap up wedding shopping. That was a bit overwhelming and exhausting, but it is done. All that is left are a few things from Amazon and Amanda and I need to finish making the decorations. Well, and writing our vows. Amanda's freaking out a little. I'm... not? Perhaps that's because I've spent the last several months in a state of high stress and fear and this crap with my parents and the apartment has been enough to make the actual wedding stress look like a vacation. I mean I've cried over the possibility that my Dad might not be at my wedding and thus all the wedding pictures are going to be permanent evidence and a reminder forever of that- which conflicts with all the happy-fuzzy feelings I should be completely swept up in for that day- which only pisses me off and makes me want to cry all over again because its not fair to Amanda that I'm so fucking depressed over it. I've tried to say fuck it, whatever, but I can't help the way I feel without stuffing everything down so far that I go numb again. *sigh* I really need to get the fuck over this. 

Because I am pear shaped and fat, finding a wedding dress that I liked and would fit me was never going to happen.  I would have had to make it or find someone to make one for me both of which was going to be more expensive than we could afford. If one were to go by semi-standard US sizing, my hips need a 5x but my shoulders need a 2/3x. Trust me, it sucks. I like Victorian and military goth styles A LOT and my shape doesn't always accommodate that, unless tailored right.

So, Amanda and I hit Torrid to find something. She found a pretty red and black Snow White dress and I found a formal-ish, plain black dress. Because its fall and we're having an evening wedding, there is a good chance it will be chilly, so I was going to need something for my shoulders. Well, no one really makes patterns in my size for what I was looking for. So, I did the next best thing and bought a costume pattern in the biggest size I could find and got on the internet to see how to upsize it. The bolero circled in yellow in the picture above, is the pattern I used. I nixed the collar and took the points off the red part of the sleeves. I also did away with sleeve gathers and still had to tailor the damned thing to fit my shoulders because they are small. I found a velvety burnout damask fabric in black so, its black, not blue and red like the picture. I also bought a broach/necklace to finish it off. You will have to wait for the wedding pictures to see it. I haven't even tried it on with the dress yet. 

I want to make another one, a couple actually, just not with the same fabric. The teeth that move fabric along on the my sewing machine didn't like the fabric very well and tried to eat it. That was several small fits of panic. And, now that I know how to upsize a pattern and actually have a handle on sewing sleeves, I would like to venture out into other pieces of clothing. But that will have to wait until after I make Amanda's cloak, until after the wedding, and possibly even until after winter. 

Emotional Rollercoaster!

I'm in the midst of ordered chaos. We have a friend from Idaho down to help us move, we're doing laundry, I've got one more class to take a final in, and I am trying to see friends and family before I leave. Lastly, I'm trying to finish out NaNoWriMo. My back isn't being very nice to me either. And while all of this is going on, there are people fighting and guilt trips are in abundance.

My mom and my gf are butting heads, both my parents are unhappy, and I'm stuck in the middle feeling the brunt and hearing the brunt of all of it. I'm down to five days before I leave and I've got a final tonight and thanksgiving on Thursday.  In the mean time there is laundry and packing to do. Thankfully we don't have too much packing to do. The down side of that, is that my gf and our friend aren't doing much in the way of getting ready to go. I'm limited in what I can do because of my back and being out of the house to see family. Tomorrow, I'll be attacking the laundry situation and packing as much as I can. I think that if I am doing things then my gf and our friend will help. It's just kind of depressing that they can't do these things on their own without me. I packed all or most of our two previous homes up alone and now, when I am having back trouble it looks like I will be doing it again.

Anyway, I'm just complaining and venting. I'm nervous and my body hurts so it makes things that much more stressful. And I really wish that people didn't guilt trip me so bad about moving. Unlike them, I'll actually come and visit and they all have more money than I do. Really, it's sad.

*Screams* BAD DAY!

Woke up, got into a fight with Amanda. Managed to get out of the house and to the bank in time to get rent paid. As I pulled up to pay rent my Jeep started smoking. I thought oh shit! Got out and it was spraying brown mucky antifreeze through the grill and down from inside the front. We just paid over 1,000 dollars to get the damned thing running and put a sealant in to hold the crack in the radiator until I could afford to get the stupid thing replaced! AND Amanda's car is in the shop and needs to be paid for but we haven't gotten it registered here yet.

On top of all of that I can't get my bathroom to look clean not matter how much I clean it. There's been so many slap happy paint jobs done in there, half assed caulking that's cracking, and no matter how hard a scrub I can't get the dirt look out of the tub. I'm going to have scrape the tile, re-caulk everything, and bleach the grout and tub!

So that mess cleaned up and the cat vomit I nearly stepped in cleaned up and I turn around and find cat shit right in the middle of the living room. I swear if it isn't one things its another!

Tomorrow I was going to spend the day at my parents house catching up on all the laundry and now I'm going to have to do that plus scramble around trying to get my car fixed and beg my mom for something cleaning supplies so I can scrub my carpet of the cat vomit stains.

So much for spending a relaxing day hanging out with my parents and getting to tell them any exciting news. They'll be so pissed about the car and having to pick me up and drive me around that they won't even care.