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.

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

Who me, change?

I know I’ve let the writing stagnate. There’re a multitude of reasons, & none of which I’m really going to elaborate on, cause… Find my ass to try to make me. (Nephew, don’t even at me, this is me, trying!)

I’m still creating, it’s just been a different medium, within a different venue, & I’ve loved the scenic change.

I’ve also had changes happen in my brain, quite a lot of them, & when I DO write here again, it probably won’t sound the same, because of those shifts in consciousness.

Time marches, and all that noise.

I am, however, going to work on getting back in the literary swing, & figure out if my fictional muse will still speak to me.

(She’s a little peeved & pouting about the time lapse)

I have a couple story ideas, tho, so let’s see if I can stoke the forge again.

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.

I Am

I am that which lies between

The instant before the stone hits the water’s surface, knowing it will shatter the peaceful pond

That final exhalation of breath when life ceases

The moment of pure clarity before waking, disappearing in the fog of consciousness

and the desperation of waking in terror from nightmares, gasping for breath

I am the tingling smell of ozone, right before the lightning strikes


And the instant and all-consuming blindness that happens after the strike, leaving you in the void of darkness, groping for the nearest safety


I am the rope, dangling just out of reach, fibers brushing just your fingertips, and swinging away


the foothold inches from where you cling, toes stretched and straining to touch


I am that which is forever sought,


Always dreaded


Ever unattainable


I am that which lies at the heart of desire


And at the bottom of fear


I am.

Struggling and a push

I’ve been absent from the blog for a while. I haven’t even been keeping up with reading the other blogs I follow.

I want to write, but my depression has been so bad for so long, that I haven’t had the emotional strength or motivation to even attempt it. And my fiction ideas have dried up.

So, I want to try something.

For those of you that read my blog, is there something that you’d like to see more of?

If there’s one of my fictions you’d like to see continued, let me know which one.

If you’d like poetry, tell me that, & I’ll work on it.

If you’d like more of my personal history stories, shout out, & I’ll see about continuing that thread.

Or if you’d like me to write more about my struggles with anxiety & depression, ask, and ye shall receive.

I just feel like I need a push in some direction.

It’s not coming from my internal furnace, so maybe I need to seek it outside myself.

So…I’m asking for help, which for me, is a big thing.

Any and all ideas & requests are welcome, but may not all be followed, depending on my comfort level.

Thank you.

When We All Fall Asleep… Chapter 2

The sun was glorious this morning, Denny decided, even if it didn’t feel very warm today. She strolled casually across the grass behind her friends, Vera and Jasmin, indulging in a little selfish “me-time” before catching up with them.

Not everything always had to be about them, now, did it?

Even though, they did seem to be pulling away from her, ignoring her, as a matter of fact.

“Well, that’s just rude.” Denny huffed, but received no response.

What the hell were they talking about so intently, anyway?!?

“And did you see what she had on?” Vera glanced quickly at Jasmin, “that brown was never a good color on her, what was up with that?”

“Oh, I know, right?” Jasmin’s hands flew up in front of her,like restless birds. She always talked with her hands when she got worked up over something.

“This whole thing, honestly…” Jasmin choked up as a tear rolled down her face. “I just can’t…”

“Jas, it’s almost over, honey..just hold on.”

Denny stomped right up behind them, sliding into the backseat of Vera’s car, seemingly unnoticed! What the hell! STILL?!?

“Hey! Look at me! I’m right here!”

Nothing. Not even a glance.

This had to be a damn nightmare, Denny decided.

“Well, I’m just going to wake right the hell UP, then! Because this is bullshit!”

And she pinched her arm.

Nothing. Not even a twinge.

Wait.

Not a twinge?

No pain?

WHAT?!?

Denny was seriously thinking about having a panic attack, when Vera’s car came to a stop, and both girls got out, Denny sliding out right before the door slammed in her face.

And then, they walked off.

Into – a freaking CEMETERY?

AW…HELL NO!

No. Nope. Noway. Denny wasn’t having it.

This was so not on her to-do list for this week.

“Dearly beloved, it is time now to commit this precious child back into the Lord’s keeping…

Ashes to ashes….

It’s a dream…I’m going to wake up in my bed,and it’ll be time for school…its JUST A DREAM!”

“Dust to dust…”

THUD.

THUD.

THUD…..

When it’s Dark, Look for Stars

I’m having a really hard time starting this post, because I’m crying while typing, so please forgive typos… I really want to get this out in one shot, though, so I’m gonna keep going.

Tomorrow is the 10-year anniversary of my sister/friend Midnite’s death.

It’s a big milestone, but it still doesn’t feel as though it’s been that long. It feels like yesterday, the way my pain rates right now.

I knew I was going to be walking into a dark place emotionally tonight when I got home.

And then, I stopped to get my mail.

Now, to back up a few days.

There’s a woman whose blog I follow, Jenny Lawson, otherwise known as The Bloggess .

On March 20th, she posted a blog about reaching out to others, and trying to bring some sunshine into their day. She opened her comments to her followers, and let us decide if we wanted to participate too, sending love to each other.

I admit, I picked a few, and sent some things out.

And, I participated, but didn’t really expect anything.

But – of all days…

Today…

I got 8 pieces – 8 PIECES of MAIL FROM STRANGERS.

Telling me I was worthy.

Telling me to keep going.

Telling me I was worth it.

Jenny Lawson…you don’t know me. You’ll probably never see this post, or know what you’ve really done for so many of your readers with your blog.

But, I’ll tell you this.

You will never know just how far your words can reach.

All the way into the darkness.