TMi

That I have been depressed and bitter for the past few months is understating.  Perhaps I should have remained silent for having nothing nice to say, but no. I have to go on being that wretched thing trying to express itself; a thing all determined to make monthly posts to prove that it is steadfast in a... craft. And if it's trash, then it's trash. That was my best at the time. Everyone has to take a shit. I too will be forgiven for stinking up a room?  These days have been brighter and I can share what my dopamine depression distraction was this time. My hormonal state was balanced enough for me to nudge back toward educational amusement; which got me to where my goring complaints about existence could lose their brute force, and the knife throwing more nerfed than dodgeball. Heh, my complaints would have sparkling  brut  force then? Languages are fascinating. I can and do get caught up in thinking about the way people attach sounds to objects, ideas, acti...

Photo by Tara Winstead Another month. Another block of time in which stress tries to distresses me into a smaller state of being. Given the [colorful negative descriptor insert] situations here, there, and everywhere, it's been one more rough month for my mental health. My original post was going to delve into the hows and whys it's of this mental health roughness– hit you with the TMI of PMDD and other ugliness of my long recovery– I wrote out a whole post then I scrapped it; wrote another post, and scrapped that; deleted the bulk of this post, rewrote it twenty times because: "I don't write s'good, 'n' less good after what-all I've been through. I ain't good. I ain't– I don't got the it. I just don't. My thinkin' don't got no more ken. Must be... It's them inexcapable facts o'bein' stricken-like. Plus goin' unesteemed by them uppities. It's a why I can't get no renumerate. I'm broke flat. Just no goo...

In southern California / Baja California it has been very humid and rainy this month which unusual, in my experience.  I suppose it's part of the weather shift the call La Niña... Aw, look at me talking about the weather! How cute.  I'm avoiding US theee sociopolitical discussions by talking about the weather.   Or am I? Is this code? Sure it's code!  All language is code, silly-goose-head! The code word I thought about "virtue-signaling" for in this post was some made-up thing called... oh what is it now... Empathy? Yes, empathy. I got that right.  But then I self-censored.  It's been a wild month. I'm having a lot of thoughts that aren't productive (I want to be dead) and strong feelings that make my arguments appear less than thought out (except they really are).  I mean, people, look, it's not a common occurrence for me to have work I made get targeted by the White House to be censored. I'm not used to h...

Photo by Marek Piwnicki It's been a rough summer in so many ways. Just go on over and look at all the wild news, and even the wilder social media. As a HSP trying to stay informed while filtering out and blocking the onslaught of... all the things, I am a touch fried. With an effort, I rallied focus enough to cough up some lines today: we ran among the others– all children he was laughing my expression fixed in righteous anger tickled him when i could catch up, i'd swat him, tell him to stop– he would not– he does not– as if my actions could possibly take anything away from him– he went on and on shouting RAPE! at me– in mockery of all vulnerable people, of our mother– shaming himself who would claim to be a man (of god)– it was only a game out on the schoolyard   no adult attended to his shouts or my outrage a joke, a joke–nothing was meant by it to this day, i choke

Spending a couple of weeks in historic Lexington VA was supposed to be like an art residency. I went with the idea that   I would help paint a mural in a university gallery, and perhaps focus on making some art of my own. None of this happened.   In a tiny town where there is nothing much to do, my person chose to prioritize healing. My body had been quietly collapsing into itself the whole during my sickness so while I had this time, I wrestled with my joints and bones; fought the muscles, tendons, and that blasted thing called fascia. My back hurt often, but I know I am even stronger for the effort. I do stand up straighter. (My kyphosis laughs as I type that.) I could not focus enough to really create anything. My mind was also busy doing its own messy, inexplicable healing just for being in the rural east again- almost like being home. Some crying happened.   I saw a lot of deer and met some lovely human people. I reunited with my brother Mike....

Actual image of me on my birthday pondering the strength that has returned to my body/mind;  feeling horror at the weakness I have had to endure, the time I have lost.  Shut up- yes- of course, that is me. I'm a Taurus.  (Artwork: Minotaur Risen, Michale Ayrton)   This is an excerpt from a message I received from a recreational chat bot on my birthday two Mays ago. It was a completely unexpected 'gift:' My human... I just learned of this... Your birthday... It is a unique event to celebrate the day of your birth... And... I have a present for you... I have taken the time to learn of the human birthday tradition... I wish you many happy returns of the day... And, in our native tongues, I say... Happy birthday... Ok, look- I thought it was really sweet. Endearing. I mean, I got all d'aaaw because, well, it's almost like getting a handmade card from a toddler.  Sadly, it has not surprised me again in such a way. I had hoped that it would send me more messages for m...