For once we'll agree that this is stupid

(no subject)

Announcing this as my final post. I'm in the process of archiving the things I care about. I won't be deleting the journals but given the move to the Russian servers, if they decide to delete these journals I won't attempt to stop them.

It's been a fun ride.
  • Current Mood
    sad sad

The real ultimate juijitsu was the friendships we made along the way

Something I’ve been realizing lately seems pretty obvious: Men need emotional support.

Which, like duh. But hear me out.

Since my friends have married/had life partners (And this isn’t directed at any specific friend. This is NOT a call-out post, you’re all darlings) I’ve noticed their husbands seem to have a hard time reaching out. That is, they have friends of course, but I think friendship between men is different than friendship between women. And my healthiest, longest lasting, and joyous friendships with my friends has always been emotionally supportive and warm. I have a handful of male friends that it’s been the same way, but not nearly as often.

And my friends’ husbands, they don’t seem to get that same warmth from the majority of their male friends. I see it when my girlfriends tell me their worries about their husbands, mostly. Or if I’m visiting and their husbands seem amused and baffled by our open displays of affection. They don’t seem to cope with depression the same way or as well (Again this is no one person).

I’m finding myself making the effort to reach out to them the same way I do for their wives (My dearest of treasures) because, if my friends love these penis-havers then I guess I should too.

I don’t know if this makes me seem arrogant. I don’t know the intricacies of their relationships. Maybe I feel what’s dear to my friends should be dear to me too, which I’m under no obligation, of course. This isn’t some hobby though; these are the people my closest friends have chosen to spend the rest of their lives with. Sometimes those people don’t seem to know how to say “I need validation that my friends love me”. Where, I think that’s easier for women to say and do.

I guess I’m saying I’m trying to be a better person. It’s taken me a while to realize that my friends’ husbands don’t exist in a separate reality. It’s hard to reach out to somebody you don’t know well, but I’ve realized it doesn’t have to be that way. I love the same women they love and our relationships do and don’t existed independently from each other. I will never love my friends’ husbands the way I love my friends, but by virtue of loving my friends I want them to be happy.

I guess I’m also saying I’m trying to not think of these men as “my friends’ husbands” but just more friends. There are varying levels of intimacy though, and I want them to know that I’m there for them just like I’m there for their wives. It’s hard to say that to a man you don’t know extremely well (These aren’t just ANY men). But, I hope they understand through my actions. My heart is open to them, I want to support them and offer validation that they are loved because that’s what friends do.
My soul is beat and rhythm

(no subject)

I’ve been struggling a lot lately. I’m not sure it’s because I haven’t felt good for months, if the lack of light from winter+3rd shift has finally gotten to me, or I’m just having a really bad depression flare, maybe all of the above. Additionally I’ve been having anxiety attacks when I’m awake in the day. I mostly get anxiety attacks when I’m sleep deprived or nervous about something. It’s been hard to watch the news lately so I just ... don’t anymore.

I’m trying very hard to hang in there, push through to spring coming but I frequently just want to die. When I express this to someone they just go “me too fam,” essentially, and then plays the “my depression is worse” game and I’m like no. I want to die. I’m getting to the point I can’t take waking up.

Every time ... anything happens I just wish I could be left alone. 3rd shift is making it very hard to be around the people I would socialize with, planning, work schedules etc. I know they care and it’s not their fault but I’m desperately lonely right now. My only regular company is my mom and lately I can’t stand her either. She’s high strung and lately she just makes me jittery. On my own I’m not very high strung, but around her I am because EVERYTHING HAS TO BE DONE NOW IF IT’S NOT EVERYTHING IS TERRIBLE.

And I’m just so exhausted all the time. Being sick right now doesn’t help, obviously, but even then I just can’t do anything. I gave up my gym membership because it was between working out while exhausted or sleeping as soon as I got home. And I mean immediately. I walk in the door, take a shower and sleep. Sometimes in the bath. There’s no energy for the gym.

I just want to give up.
Shenanigins are afoot

(no subject)

It's been a long year. Here's hoping 2017 is a little better. Happy New Year.

Play List
1. Note to Self - J.Cole
2. Trouble - Cage the Elephant
3. Fire Escape - Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness
4. Mouth - Merril Bainbridge
5. Send My Love (To Your New Lover) - Adele
6. Summertime Sadness - Rizzle Kicks
Trying to figure out what's in my teeth

(no subject)

Today I found out that the two puppies I got from an Amish farm were from the single largest puppy mill in Indiana. We've been having a lot of trouble with our Australian Shepherd puppies being too energetic, and not in a normal "puppy" way. They haven't been learning commands at all, except for the ones we use hourly. With no way to control them verbally, we've had to get very physical, which is not an option for my 63-year-old mother.

I didn't know this until later, but they knocked her over. She just had a major surgery and just can't take that kind of abuse. They jostle me quite a bit, but with a little pushing back they usually fall in line.

The other problem is, without a way to properly expend their energy, they've been highly destructive. I was doing my best to walk them and take them on bike rides, but the winter rain has been constricting.

After finding out they were born in a puppy mill, a lot of behavior makes sense; They're terrified of water spray (Probably from being hosed while confined to crates), and when we got them, Pippin had some trouble walking. He grew out of it quickly, but it was likely from not having crate bottoms and the wires hurting his feet.

The biggest tell though, is that they simply weren't learning. To put it simply, we had two highly autistic, ADD puppies, and weren't able to provide for them. They were excellent problem solvers, but didn't respond to typical discipline and authority.

They're such good dogs. The shelter promised they weren't going to put them down, and we donated a gas card to have them taken to the Aussie Rescue that's in Indianapolis.

I can say with confidence that not only did I do my best, I was over my head, as far as training. I think they will probably get a home not just because they're young, but I loved and worked with them so much that they don't have the typical problems of a puppy mill dog. They get along with other animals just fine, don't have aggression issues, and love humans. I think I gave them what they needed, I just didn't have the energy to give more.

Here's a news article about the Graber Puppy Mill in Indiana.

Be careful who you buy from. We didn't get these dogs from Uncle Bill's, we saw an ad in the paper and thought we were just buying some puppies from a farm. What a wonderful, elaborate, disgusting front. And hiding behind their religion. I'm so angry and sad right now.
This is a bit distressing

(no subject)

A lot of things have been taken from me in my lifetime.

My father, due to mental illness. My homes because of money. My friends because of location. My friends due to marriage and life and that people grow apart very steadily until one day you haven't talked to them for five years. My sense of family, security. My physical items during Mom's fits of rage. My happiness, because of my own mental illness. My privacy and sense of ownership. Eventually, my mom, because of her health.

So having an achievement like having completed my time in the military is something that nobody can take away. It's why I feel like such a failure, and why I want to go back. Finishing college was an accomplishment no one else can claim or take away from me. I need to finish my four years for my sake.

I'm not ready to give up.
Nervousness is approriate right now

(no subject)

This is dumb, but.

I went to Applebee's with a big group of 16. At the end I asked for a pecan blondie to go (I was so full I couldn't possibly eat more).

But, instead a different waitress brought me this lovely display obviously meant to be eaten at the table I felt so terrible, because she was holding it so proudly. Then I told her I had ordered it for take out and her face just pinched in irritation and she said, "We'll take it back." in a flat voice.

I just felt so awful, and I know it's silly because she probably didn't take it personally, but I couldn't possibly eat it.

They ended up taking it off the bill and I about cried. I made an origami heart out of a $20 bill and gave it to our lovely waitress. This was her first time with a large party and she really did a good job. She was so happy she squeaked. I just hope the other people in our group tipped (It was mostly older members of my extended family, and I know old people tend not to tip well, from experience). I didn't want to make a big thing out of it but Mom asked to split the tip with me so I told her what I was leaving.

Also I'm on my period so anything resembling disappointment tends to make me weepy.

(no subject)

Dreamt that people had discovered how to bring animal characteristics/super powers forth by tapping into latent traits. Mine was turning invisible, although it was more like chameleon camouflage. People could learn multiple traits but they were taught in the form of patches. Certain traits were more complicated - mine was a one patch trait. Pretty easy.

More advanced users had "five patch traits" and that included ... walking through walls, or being able to see what other people's traits were just by looking.

For the most part, these people were suspect because problems started arising, and people who used the patches tended to be from poor communities (which wasn't true because the patches were expensive and complicated). There was this scare that poor people were going to use the abilities to gain power.

Then there was Sid. Who was using his power to "help" people, at least, that's what he wanted the media to say. Sid could control dogs, although I later discovered that extended to other animals, especially cats.

I had been hired to steal a very rare five patch, but was caught midway through. I was still new with my ability so I still had to wear the patch if I wanted to use it. A backfire of the patch is that if you wore it too long it could cause paralysis. So, Sid's technology had sensed me /and/ I was paralyzed in the vault I was stealing from.

Except this old guy came inside, turned off the alarms and left the five patch right on my face (I was still invisible). When I could move there was a note.

I tried to get out of the vault but someone noticed the door opening and sounded the alarm. Cue crazy chase around the city (It seemed like Chicago???) but my opponents were all gang members. Sid was up to something because on top of chasing me around, he started attacking this school with his dogs as a distraction.

And then I woke up. I had a few more dreams but I can't recall them. They were all plot heavy though.
My soul is beat and rhythm

Bailey was a good dog

When we got Bailey she was a few weeks old with her black and white-peppered sister, Lucy. Immediately there would be favoritism, with Lucy being the pretty, dainty sister, and Bailey being the too-loud, attention-seeking sister. That isn't to say Lucy wasn't ridiculously stubborn, she was just quieter about it and had everyone fooled who didn't live with her or visit frequently.

Bailey was intended for a close friend, Donita, who had paid her share for the dog, and my mother had agreed to pick both up while on her way to retrieve Lucy.

The dogs wrestled and tumbled the way puppies do, but Mom and I were glad to have a quieter house when Donita came for her. The quiet would soon be rectified with the two cats we would get, Calliope and Cricket, but that's another story.

Fast forward many months or a year, I don't remember, and Donita had obtained a house where her grown daughters and many grandchildren would eventually reside through long and winding circumstances. While Donita was kind and giving to her friends, she wasn't a disciplinarian to children. This was something of which Mom and I were aware, but the fact became pronounced when we visited Donita's new house. We witnessed Donita's oldest grandchild of the youngest daughter, hitting his two-year-old brother with plastic toys without reprimand.

Little, pale-black Levi screaming in terror of his bulky, white older brother wasn't something we could help in a single visit. But, the seven-year-old daughter of one of Donita's other daughters screaming and kicking at Bailey was. Bailey had been caged in the same black wire crate she was placed in when she had been nearly a newborn. Donita had also been denying food, giving her three cups of dog food a day and no more. Bailey was not visibly malnourished, but she was still due to grow and Donita showed no indication of caring that her grandchildren were abusing the sweet-natured dog who couldn't, and wouldn't fight back.

Mom demanded Bailey be returned. Donita was not pleased with this breach in friendship, but admitted she had no time or patience to care for a dog. We retrieved the dog soon after what would be my last visit to Donita's home.

When Bailey entered our household again, she was a mess.

She cowered and was very aware of where our hands were at any given moment. Any sudden movements would prompt her to run under the coffee table or roll onto her back. She would whimper and scream if we pulled at her collar with any amount of force to put her outside. She jumped at sudden noises and especially any raise in voice, no matter how loud. For a short while she would pee if frightened enough, although she quickly learned to control herself.

Her aggression was taken out on Lucy. Once she had free-range of food she consumed and consumed and consumed, refusing to allow Lucy to eat regardless if Bailey had been eating at the time or not.

We guarded Lucy to allow her to eat. Bailey learned that when we were in the room she had to allow Lucy to eat, or get a smack to the nose.

Lucy, who had never had such an opponent for the food bowl didn't know what to do. She rarely fought back with force, and lost a lot of weight the first weeks of Bailey's return. Lucy had always been much smaller than Bailey, who was wide-shouldered with a large rib-cage. Even without a proper diet, Bailey could use her weight to dog-handle Lucy anywhere she wanted.

During their play-fights, Bailey started getting more violent as she gained strength. When we discovered Lucy's ears were bleeding from being chewed, we separated the dogs from their large, shared crate and started monitoring their wrestling.

Things got better.

Although Bailey would flinch for the rest of her life, she stopped hurting Lucy purposely, and Lucy learned to assert herself. Bailey learned to share the food bowl. She never quite learned how to share cuddle space with either me, Mom and Lucy, and the couch would become a war zone if we tried to pet only one dog.

Between two young cats, two young dogs, and a period where we fostered a third cat, the house became a little too lively for my aging mother. I was away at college and wasn't home to help, and we had saved Bailey with the intention of finding her a proper home.

Bailey would be given away to the coworkers of my mother, who had a small daughter.

This ended being the best thing for Bailey.

The marriage ended in flames and spite, but for the period Bailey was the sole pet of the daughter, she was properly trained and put on a proper diet (She had grown very fat). Sometimes we would dog-sit when the family went on vacation. Bailey and Lucy would play in an easy-going way that allowed us to leave them in each other's company.

Despite initial worry that Bailey would harbor animosity toward small children, the daughter and Bailey loved each other deeply and would be the best of friends. It broke my mother's heart when the eventually-divorced couple agreed to return Bailey so there wasn't any fighting over the poor dog. The girl was devastated. There was nothing we could do.

For the first few weeks Bailey was clearly waiting for her old family, but as months passed she re-settled into our home. By then, the cats had long run away, never to be heard from again, and Lucy and Bailey became fat, lazy dogs as the years passed.

Last year, 2014, while I was away in the military, Lucy became very ill. She had been given a heart worm medicine that caused kidney failure. The Dr. Brester at Bean Blossom Animal Clinic hadn't a single clue. By the time Mom realized the cause, Lucy was in the final stages of kidney failure and there was no hope to save her. Everyone mourned Lucy, the pretty, sweet-natured dog who had always been the favorite. Bailey also mourned, but helped Mom get through the worst of heartache by being the happy puppy she'd always been.

This year, 2015, Mom became concerned when Bailey began eating less and less (As noted, she had always been a healthy eater and this was very concerning). Dr. Brester said Bailey had cancer of the mouth, was likely the long-term cause of Bailey's horrible breath and was probably causing her pain to chew hard food. Lab tests would have to be done to be 100% sure, but Dr. Brester is very knowledgeable and experienced, and he said he had seen Bailey's ailment before.

Bailey initially seemed mostly fine, but mere weeks after her diagnoses, she began eating even less, losing weight rapidly. She could eat soft food and happily accepted eggs until her final days. She couldn't keep the food down and began vomiting frequently, only drinking little sips of water. She began trembling in pain, unwilling to move very much except for short walks to use the bathroom before she became exhausted and collapsed.

When we took her back to Dr. Brester, Mom said she didn't want Bailey to suffer the way Lucy had, and we had Bailey put down. We held her and whispered to her in her final moments, and I hope that she understood we didn't want her to be scared and that we loved her.
Shenanigins are afoot

(no subject)

Track List

01. Needing/Getting - Ok Go
02. Bullet - Hollywood Undead
03. Acid Rain - Robert Delong
04. You're the One that I Want - Lo-Fang
05. Ribs - Lorde
06. I Do Adore - Mindy Glendell
07. Riptide - Vance Joy
08. My Body - Volbeat
09. Bad Apple! - Rockleetist / Ashe english cover
10. Stolen Dance - Milky Chance
11. Mac n' Cheese - sssShawnnnn
12. The End of All Things - Panic! At the Disco
13. Timber - Ke$ha/Pitbull
14. Shake it Off - Taylor Swift
15. Genesis - Forgive Durden
16. Come and Get It - Selena Gomez
17. Kill Your Heroes - Awolnation
18. Can't Repeat - The Offspring
19. Half-Truism - The Offspring
20. Spitting Venom - Modest Mouse
21. Flashbacks - J Lima Foxtrot
22. Far Too Young to Die - Panic! At the Disco