Invisible goalposts, and undeniable milestones

Don’t be a show off.”

It’s not that big of a deal.”

Pride goeth before a fall.”

All my life, there’s been someone there, telling me not to “blow my own horn,” so to speak.

Belittling achievements I’ve earned.

Telling me that, even if I did make something, it was due to someone, or something else, never my accomplishment.

My brother did this to me a lot.

My parents, while I do love them, were always of the “humble is better” mindset, & my accomplishments were met with a pat on the head, & a “put that ribbon, trophy, medal, certificate away now, you don’t want to look like you’re bragging.

Even to this day, whenever I actually hit a milestone achievement,  I second guess telling anyone about it.

Because there are still people in my life who put down things I think of as my “laudable moments”.

And, it hurts.

I’d like to feel the spotlight a little too.

I always cheer for every one of my loved ones when they hit those milestones of their own, because I wish someone would cheer for mine.

I have someone in my life now, that does cheer for me, & tells me that I deserve to celebrate them, because he’s had the same things happen to him, with missing those milestone moments.

And I love him for that reason, among many others.

I’m allowed to be proud .

I’m entitled to some pride in reaching goalposts.

And, I’ll be damned if I let any more be squashed, because they don’t meet some invisible standard laid out by someone else.

Stop setting invisible goalposts all over my playing field, because I’ll start hauling out all the old achievements, trophies, medals, certificates,  & proofs of my BRAGGING RIGHTS RECEIPTS, & I’ll make a real spectacle of myself to prove you wrong.

I’ve got your 6.

I grew up never having anyone back me up. I stood on my own – a lot.

My parents raised me to believe that my worth was dependent on what I could sacrifice of myself for the benefit of others, and that “keeping the peace” meant being quiet about disrespect, disregard & abuse.

“Turn the other cheek – think about how the other person feels”

I heard that shit all the time.

Through the years, & dismantling a LOT of my own psyche…

I started breaking generational abuse chains.

I decided a long time ago, that I had to be the person I wanted backing me up.

For those I’ve given birth to, & the Family I’ve Chosen for my own circle – I will ALWAYS have your 6. I will defend those I love, with my words & actions.

I will defend, advocate, & back up my loved ones – with my teeth – if necessary.

A little while back, I had an incident happen in party chat while gaming.

(I’m not going to get into that, because the offending person has been INFJ door-slammed out of my life, so is no longer relevant)

However, one of my friends that I’d taken into my Chosen Family Circle did eventually talk to them, & when they made rude, disparaging remarks about me – this “friend” was – silent.

They told me this themselves, that they didn’t back me up.

Ok.

What hurts, is that this friend was someone I’d absolutely defended & backed up, to multiple people – but they chose not to return the consideration.

Ok.

I now know where I stand, & will act accordingly.

I made the choice, that this friend I will neither defend, nor defame. They will receive the level of attention & consideration they give.

I don’t know how to handle the rest.

Cause it still hurts.

And, I’ve learned this about myself in the past – that if I don’t pause, isolate, & contemplate…

I will absolutely say & do things I’ll regret later.

Because there was a looooong stretch of my life where I was a rage-filled, vindictive bitch.

She still lives inside my soul, under a restrictively short leash.

So, When I go silent…

It’s for the safety of others, not myself.

You’re welcome.

Old Habits, Old Me

Early Warning- I’ve been up for almost 36 hours, & my phone doesn’t want to autocorrect my fumble fingers oopses for some unknown fucking reason so please excuse any mistakes.

I’m blaming it on the mental & emotional wall I smashed into on the way here.ugh.

I’ve been writing in this blog for over 14 years. 

Christonacracker that’s a long time.

I staryed this as a way to “scream into the darkness” as I called it; while remaining fairly anonymous. I used a psuedonym

(Had to pause… PSEUDONYM) fuck spelling tonight ya get what ya get – if you’re here & still reading, good fucking luck.  The swear filter tore.

I’ve taken breaks, due tobone thing or another & haven’t written in what seems ages.

Well I’ve never forgotten life just has a way of throwing side quests at me that bevome dlcs, then BANG – it’s a completely different game.

(Yes, gamer slang… It consumes a good portion of my time at night, because rhat’s where my friends & most of my Chosen Family live)

But, I’ve been feeling verbose, lately, so you might be seeing more of me again.

I’ve got an idea.

Dangerous I know.

Get out the fire extinguishers, cause I think the dictionary’s smokin upstairs.

Damn, I’m tired, & this is a lot of words saying not much.

#sorrynotsorry

Anywhoozit…

Fiction – coming soon.

The Guest ~ Flash Fiction 9/30/18

There was a nuclear explosion going off inside her body, and no one knew it but her.

Mostly, it didn’t bother her, except once in a while the atoms would split in uncomfortable ways and would make her sick, but she could hide that.

She’d always been rather a sickly child, anyway. Growing up hadn’t changed that, much.

“Oh, you know, I just had something that disagreed with me for lunch,” she’d smile softly and wave off concerned looks in her direction.

And she’d quietly patter down the street to the store, or to her home, or wherever she was headed.

It was a good thing she didn’t have to work in an office, she thought. Too many questions, too many strangers in her business, when she really didn’t have the time for any of that.

And the nuclear explosion carried on, creating new worlds and collapsing old ones, deep within.

She’d known, almost the moment it happened, what was going on. That she was forever altered, there would be no going back.

She could almost hear the tick tick tick of a miniscule clock… counting down.

To what result, she wasn’t precisely sure, but she knew the sound was growing in strength.

Which meant, time was growing shorter.

And she needed to prepare for all eventualities.

There were preparations at home that needed to be made, she knew. Things she needed to have purchased and sent to the house, papers that would need to be signed at the lawyer’s office.

It was a good thing she still had mother’s money to help with these things. Granted, she had a decent job, working remotely from home, editing for a publishing company out east, but that job would have to be terminated soon, and then mother’s inheritance would make all the difference.

It was what had allowed her to keep the family home, after all.

But, enough, she shook her head ruefully, a slight grimace on her face.

It was time.

The nuclear explosions within wouldn’t stop, and she – had to be ready for the fallout.

“I’m home,” she called softly, as she dropped her house keys on the foyer table.

The front door slid closed with an almost silent click, shutting out the neighborhood noises.

And a rumble rolled through the house, rolling around her in a welcoming embrace.

“I wasn’t gone that long, it’s alright. And I won’t be going anywhere else today, so it’s just us, luv.”

Flames flared to life in the fireplace as she maneuvered through the parlor, shedding her cardigan, and laying it across the top of the couch.

“Ah, thank you. It is starting to get a bit chilly outside, I do appreciate the thoughtfulness.”

She plucked the book she’d been reading from the table near the couch, and sank down into its generous cushions, reveling in the relaxation of her own home.

“It’s never as nice out there as it is here with you, you know. If I didn’t have to go out occasionally for things, I’d never leave these rooms.”

Stretching her feet out, she laid her head back on the pillowed armrest behind her, and closed her eyes for just a moment.

“Mmmm, that feels nice. You know my feet always love your attention,”

Gentle but firm massage stroked her toes and instep, working its way up to her ankles, sliding her slacks up to push on her calves. Delicious. That’s what it was.

“I do love the way you take care of me, you know that, right?”

A deep rumble of assent was all she got in response, but she knew he heard, she could almost see the smile on his face, even with her eyes closed.

“You’ve always taken care of me, I know that, and that’s why I want to take care of you. I’m almost ready. I’ll have everything here next week, and then we can finish this. After everything you’ve done for me, I want this for you too. For us.”

She felt a hand move from her leg, up to her stomach, where the explosions were going on. On and on and on.

A thumb rubbed gentle circles around her navel, fingers splayed in an arc across her abdomen, warm, holding her, but not pressing down.

“Not much longer, luv, really, and we’ll have forever. But, I suppose, I should really continue my studies, to make sure I get this perfect.”

And opening her eyes, she turned to the bookmarked page in her text to read.

Demonology – Invocations and Summoning Into Being

Soft Reset

Ever since my cross-country move from Washington to Georgia, I’ve been living in a sort of time limbo.

I am fairly quiet these days. I work remotely for the same company I worked at in ND, which is wonderful. I truly love what I do, and the company’s flexibility has worked in my favor to allow me the privilege of doing what I love, while living where I’m happy.

I’m just minutes away from BelovedNephew, now, and we get to see each other pretty much whenever we want, barring work.

I’ve been here now, for a little over 2 months, and yet…

Every once in a while, I stop, and realize that I am actually doing this.

Soft reset of the brain and emotions.

I’m actually fulfilling a dream I’ve had for years by moving cross-country – and twice, at that!

It’s only a little over over a week shy of the 1 year anniversary of my first move from North Dakota to Washington.

I’m really here. I’ve really done it.

And, my 2nd move from WA to GA I drove a 36-foot RV with only 2 cats for company!

My copilot, Sally; and the backseat driver, Cinders.

When I have these moments, I’m overcome with almost all the emotions; awe, fear, happiness, sadness, excitement, & dread.

It’s a lot, & there are times I have to pull back into myself to try to process the rush.

Soft reset.

Nothing jarring, no explosion of temper or giddiness. Just a quiet withdrawal, a period of isolation, until I can stick my chin out again & move forward once more.

Today, I’m sitting in an airport, headed North for the weekend. (I’ll write a separate post for that after my return home, it needs its own space)

I had my soft reset moment, staring out the window of the terminal.

I can’t have my physical withdrawal right now, in all the public.

But, I can withdraw behind my mask, and drop into my Kindle, mentally.

It’s gonna be a loooong day of flights, airports, walking, & sitting uncomfortably.

But, I’ll get through it.

Look how far I’ve already come to realize my dreams!

Jekyll Island, GA. (Mini vacay excursion with BelovedNephew a couple weeks ago)

Turn The Page… Again

So, I’ve moved – again. 😂

This summer, my ElderDaughter informed me that they were going to sell their place in Washington & move to Texas.

Now, anyone who knows me, even a little, knows I am very liberal-minded.

One might even say… A little feral… In that direction.

So, I told ElderDaughter that, as much as I’d miss being near them, I couldn’t move with them to Texas as they wanted me to.

My mouth would be writing checks there, that my old, overweight, arthritic ass can’t cash anymore.

What does a 52 yr. old feral woman for when faced with this dilemma?

She moves to Georgia to be closer to her best friend, BelovedNephew.

Fourscore… Errr… 7 years ago

This man really, truly is my best friend. He’s been there for me as ChosenFamily/friend for so many years now, it feels more like lifetimes.

So, in September, I gassed up the RV, hitched the Jeep to a tow dolly, & drove, by myself (well, my 2 cats kept me company) for 5 1/2 days to south Georgia.

I’m now living in the bus, parked in a mobile home/RV park about 45 minutes from the ocean.

And, I’m so very happy.

I’ve been able to work my own way off my anti-anxiety meds. (I still have GAD, don’t get me wrong, but it’s much more manageable now, with less stress in my life.)

I get to go on adventures with my bestie!

Last weekend, we went to Fort King George, the remnants of an old British fort here, & I also got to go to Jekyll Island & put my feet in the ocean for the first time in my life!

One of the buildings still on the fort (they’re a LOT smaller than you’d think)
Walking thru the fort
I love the gnarly trees
The beach from the pier at Jekyll Island
DOUBLE RAINBOW!!!

I’m still adjusting to this new phase of my life (I can’t believe I’ve already been here 2 months!)

But, I am content.

Living small, and alone by choice, I am actually content.

And that’s not a small thing.

I’ve started working on crafts again.

I’ve been contemplating writing fiction again.

Things are changing.

And that’s ok.

The Other Side of Fear

In November 2021, I sold my house and moved.

Now, that’s a very generic statement, for the extremely complicated and intricate dance of events that took place.

I’d been wanting to move for years.

Living where I was, in North Dakota, had so many painful memories and so little joy left for me. Yes, I have many good memories there as well, and I treasure those; but you can’t live in memories.

I struggled everyday to find a reason to get up, to go forward, and couldn’t find enough reasons to stay.

So – I made a lot of choices that ended up with me moving to Washington, to be closer to my ElderDaughter & my grandbabies.

And, my life has changed so much, that I’m still amazed on the daily that I actually live here now!

Pre move-in

I bought myself a used RV, & hooked it up in my ElderDaughter’s backyard.

It’s perfect for me & Sal.

Front window wins!

It’s big enough for the 2 of us, without being too much for me to handle.

And, I haven’t been this at ease in a long time, if ever.

My anxiety has dropped to the point where I’ve been able to lower my meds in half.

I’m finding myself having moments of pure contentment and joy out of the blue. It’s been years since my depression has been this minimal.

I’m finding a new balance, here.

Everything you’ve ever wanted, is on the other side of fear ~ George Addair

The Weight of it All

I’ve had to deal with weight issues all my life.

As a kid, it was the fact that I loved sweets so much.

Ugh, Ice cream is my Nemesis.

When I die, this is how I’ll probably go.

As a teenager in high school, I was called “the fat girl” in my class, even though I was a pretty healthy 130-135 lbs at 5’7″.

I’ve never been svelte, like some of my Scandinavian extended family members; instead being closer to the stockier build of my Germanic/Austrian family.

Age 17, I’m the one on the left. My cousin on the right is German/Italian.

Looking back, I don’t see a fat girl when I look at myself, but I was sure made to feel that way by others.

After having my third child, my weight ballooned. Part of it was getting older, having kids, & not fighting super hard after the third one to get back to my pre-baby weight.

Part of it was emotional abuse I suffered during my marriage.

And, the weight was a “convenient” way to subtly protect myself, and fight back.

The weight prevented anyone from getting “too close”.

It prevented anyone from seeking to get to know me, because there’s that invisible dividing line that stands around fat people…

Fat people are lazy

Fat people are not attractive

Fat people aren’t worth the time, because if they don’t care about themselves, why should anyone else?

And so on…

I lost a bunch of weight after my divorce, too. I went on a program of supplements, worked out really hard, & lost almost 70 lbs, at one point. I felt better physically, sometimes, & mentally, a little.

And then, shit started to go downhill.

I had a bunch of things happen that affected me both physically and mentally, that just…stopped… any progress I’d made.

And, I started to go backwards as far as my weight was concerned.

Physical limitations due to my Rheumatoid Arthritis didn’t help.

And mentally?

Well, the weight was yet another wall between me & the outside world.

People couldn’t, wouldn’t get close enough to hurt me if my weight was keeping them away, right?

Right.

Yet another unhealthy coping mechanism I adopted.

*sigh*

But, unfortunately… It’s very effective.

Sister Sarcasm

I’m sarcastic. This is a given fact, and if you’ve ever met me in real life, it’s fairly obvious after about 5 minute’s worth of talking.

When I’m at work, in front of customers or certain coworkers, I mask.

Masking – a process in which an individual changes or “masks” their natural personality to conform to social pressures, abuse or harassment.

If I’m in an unknown social situation where I’m expected to “conform” to social norms, I mask.

But catch me in a known, comfortable, or laid-back social setting (ex., with friends, or my kids)? And you’ll get the Sarcastic Sister.

And… I use it to deflect criticism, as well.

In fact, I will use sarcastic self-deprecation to head off criticism from others.

I mean, if I’m cutting myself down… what good is it for someone else to attempt microaggressions & insults?

After all, I got there first, and with far better sarcastic insults about myself than anyone else can come up with. Who knows me better than me? Who knows right where to stick the knife so as to thwart further injury by outsiders?

Yup.

I emotionally cut myself to prevent others from doing so.

That’s priceless logic, ain’t it?

So, to show what I mean, a friend of mine upon moving away, gave me a box of affirmations. In the “advent calendar” style, you can pop one open & read something nice, that’s supposed to boost your mood about yourself.

So, of course, I’ve started opening them, & immediately twisting them.

Cause of how I do.

Pandora’s box, Trojan horse…same feel.
My body doesn’t make the sweet feelings anymore, so I use store-bought.
Because – science.
Cloning – not for everyone.
*sigh* is the picture clear enough, or..maybe a couple more.
No caption necessary
My personal favorite – simple & eloquent

One day, I decided the shit was deep enough around me, so I’d take it easy on myself…

Nice enough, yeah?

One of my coworkers asked me yesterday

“How the hell.do you think these things up? Do they just pop into your brain as soon as you read the cards?”

*sigh* yeah.

It’s called Maladaptive Cognition.

There’s always that small “voice” in my brain that pipes up to knock me “back into my lane”.

Another coworker told me I should write “sarcastic self-affirmations”, cause they’d sell like crazy. Meh. I know they might, but why risk yet another form of rejection among so many others?

I usually just shrug it off in front of others, & lay it off to “Well, I’m just twisted.”

They agree, & we go on about our business. They’ve been entertained with my antics, & I’ve prevented someone else from hurting my feelings by beating them down a little myself.

It keeps the hyenas off my lawn.

Sarcasm – the ultimate self defense.