It's been awhile since I last posted. Maybe it's because I felt like I didn't have anything to talk about (true), or maybe it felt like I was just whining about my problems when there are much worse things happening in the world (also true), or maybe I was just lazy (also also true). But I think, at this point in my life, I need to just buckle down and stop playing the goddamn Sims all the time.
Speaking of the Sims, anyone else hate how you can't customize as much stuff in TS4 as you could in TS3? Ugh. I just want to customize some fucking paint colours and furniture, is that too much to ask.
Okay, back to writing things.
There are a few ideas rolling around the ol' noodle recently.
I've taken a backseat to the backseat my weight loss journey has been on. What does that mean? I've been lazy as fuck and apathetic towards it. I need to eat better and exercise more but I just... don't. Like, rather than get in a quick workout while Mr. M is napping - seeing as Miss O will let me work out without getting TOO much in the way - I hang out in my bedroom and watch tv series that I've seen a hundred times or I play the Sims or ... just do anything but try to get myself back into a good shape. Like, I'd take grade 12 Paige over current Paige. Even though grade 12 Paige thought that she was not fit... but who didn't at that age?
I also haven't been doing as much creatively as I think I could/should. Such as writing, or painting, or making blankets (crochet because knitting just takes waaaay too long). And also housework has taken a backseat for some reason. I'm also not baking as much as I could be.
My god. What is actually wrong with me.
Lastly, and I feel like this is the most important subject, the American election.
To everyone who says that it doesn't affect us up here in Canada - get your head out of your ass. We share a fucking continent with them. They elected a man who has already gone back on most of his campaign, who is volatile, and who just cannot be trusted. He's also incredibly misogynistic and it's really depressing.
I've never identified myself as a feminist. If anything, I've tried to stay away from that term, because of the negative connotations of it. Like the bra-burning hippie women who say things like "herstory" instead of history. And those types of feminists do still exist. And then there's the modern kind of feminist, who basically just doesn't want to take any shit from men. It's a terrible dynamic now, in that women are still not making as much in careers as men do, and there are a lot of sexist practices going on when it comes to hiring. Companies won't hire women who are within baby-making age range, simply because they don't want to deal with them.
I find that as I get older, I realize just how shitty the world is for women. In the US right now, women are too frightened to walk to their cars alone outside of retail establishments. They're afraid to walk alone on a university campus. They're afraid, period, because of shitfucks like Brock Turner getting away with raping a woman just because he's a white, privileged, male. I can identify with the fear from being a female, but I can't identify with the fear from not being a white, hetero, female. I can't imagine what it's like to be non-white or non-straight or non-gender conforming.
I really hope that society, as a whole, can turn this around. I really hope that we can learn from all of the stories coming out of the US where women (and/or other visible minority groups) can band together and fight back against their oppressors.
Oh, and I really hope that companies will stop using sexist jargon to sell their fucking products. A local hair salon has "It's cheaper to change your hair than your husband" as their billboard. Another male-geared salon had "It's great to be a man" as theirs. And a chain of mechanic shops (like oil & muffler stuff) had "Don't get a divorce, get an oil change" or something to that extent. How are these things even socially acceptable AND how are they still up?!
Okay. Enough ranting for today. Hopefully I'll have another post this week.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Back to School Time
With all of the posts about kids going back to school - or friends going back to school - it's made me think about my school experiences. University and business college were good in that everyone was there for the same purpose - to get a degree/diploma.
Elementary and high school were giant piles of shit.
Being 31 and looking back at my high school and elementary school experiences, so many things are opening my eyes. And it's making me nostagically depressed.
I went to a couple different elementary schools simply because of logistics. My mom went back to work when I was in grade 2, so halfway through the year I went to school with my cousins because my Gramma could drive me (she used to be my cousin's caregiver and lived only a couple blocks away from us). Then my dad got a job transfer to a remote northern SK community, which meant that we spent the grade 3 school year up there. Then transfer back to Saskatoon, putting me in a new school in grade 4 onwards.
This school was where everything just went to shit. I was made fun of for being fat constantly. Always by the boys. And before anyone tries to say "Ohhhh that must mean that they liked you" you can go jump up your own ass and die. If anyone makes fun of anyone, it's because they're a goddamn bully and their parents didn't teach them to treat other people nicely. I remember being in grade 5 - so like 10 years old - and begging my mom to let me go back to my cousin's school. I was bawling about how badly I was being treated, but there was no budging her. I don't know if she thought I was exaggerating, or if it really just wasn't that easy to switch schools, but I wish that she had stood up for me.
Once puberty hit, things kind of went sideways. I was better at hiding the majority of my pain, but then I'd have these huge outbursts at the worst times. Like at a social gathering. And still these boys persevered in making me feel like shit.
High school, the girls started in. Oh, it wasn't calling me fat (to my face) or making remarks about my appearance in general, it was moreso just backstabbing bitchiness and general snobbiness. The high school I went to didn't really help that matter; at the time, it was seen as the snobby rich kid school - something I completely agree with now.
It was in high school that my depression reared its ugly head; it was in high school that I felt like nothing; it was in high school that I tried to end my life several times.
A friend and I were chatting awhile ago - one of the few friends I've kept in contact with since graduating - about just how awful everyone was there, and how it was a goddamn miracle that we found each other. And it's true! So many people look back at high school fondly, but I look back at it in disgust. I look back at those 4 years as the beginning of my mental health crumbling, and oh how I wish that we could have nipped those issues in the bud.
As an adult, I'm still prone to bottling up emotions and things until I have inopportune outbursts. Usually it involves me crying and yelling. I find that I've been becoming more introverted and socially anxious, and I really really hate it. I hate that every single time I leave the house, I worry about what strangers are going to think of me. And the only reason that fear/worry is in my head is because for Four. Straight. Years. I was told I wasn't good enough; I was told that my appearance was the only thing that mattered; I was told that boys wouldn't want to date me because I wasn't pretty enough or thin enough. For fucks sake - I was a size 12 in high school. TWELVE. And I was being made fun of for that.
If there's anything that I hope for my children for their school experiences, it's that they have good ones. That their friends are loyal and plentiful, and that the other kids are a lot nicer. But based on how society seems to be going into a shit spiral, I'm doubtful and I'm scared.
Here's hoping I can keep that to myself so my kids aren't as damaged as I was/am.
Elementary and high school were giant piles of shit.
Being 31 and looking back at my high school and elementary school experiences, so many things are opening my eyes. And it's making me nostagically depressed.
I went to a couple different elementary schools simply because of logistics. My mom went back to work when I was in grade 2, so halfway through the year I went to school with my cousins because my Gramma could drive me (she used to be my cousin's caregiver and lived only a couple blocks away from us). Then my dad got a job transfer to a remote northern SK community, which meant that we spent the grade 3 school year up there. Then transfer back to Saskatoon, putting me in a new school in grade 4 onwards.
This school was where everything just went to shit. I was made fun of for being fat constantly. Always by the boys. And before anyone tries to say "Ohhhh that must mean that they liked you" you can go jump up your own ass and die. If anyone makes fun of anyone, it's because they're a goddamn bully and their parents didn't teach them to treat other people nicely. I remember being in grade 5 - so like 10 years old - and begging my mom to let me go back to my cousin's school. I was bawling about how badly I was being treated, but there was no budging her. I don't know if she thought I was exaggerating, or if it really just wasn't that easy to switch schools, but I wish that she had stood up for me.
Once puberty hit, things kind of went sideways. I was better at hiding the majority of my pain, but then I'd have these huge outbursts at the worst times. Like at a social gathering. And still these boys persevered in making me feel like shit.
High school, the girls started in. Oh, it wasn't calling me fat (to my face) or making remarks about my appearance in general, it was moreso just backstabbing bitchiness and general snobbiness. The high school I went to didn't really help that matter; at the time, it was seen as the snobby rich kid school - something I completely agree with now.
It was in high school that my depression reared its ugly head; it was in high school that I felt like nothing; it was in high school that I tried to end my life several times.
A friend and I were chatting awhile ago - one of the few friends I've kept in contact with since graduating - about just how awful everyone was there, and how it was a goddamn miracle that we found each other. And it's true! So many people look back at high school fondly, but I look back at it in disgust. I look back at those 4 years as the beginning of my mental health crumbling, and oh how I wish that we could have nipped those issues in the bud.
As an adult, I'm still prone to bottling up emotions and things until I have inopportune outbursts. Usually it involves me crying and yelling. I find that I've been becoming more introverted and socially anxious, and I really really hate it. I hate that every single time I leave the house, I worry about what strangers are going to think of me. And the only reason that fear/worry is in my head is because for Four. Straight. Years. I was told I wasn't good enough; I was told that my appearance was the only thing that mattered; I was told that boys wouldn't want to date me because I wasn't pretty enough or thin enough. For fucks sake - I was a size 12 in high school. TWELVE. And I was being made fun of for that.
If there's anything that I hope for my children for their school experiences, it's that they have good ones. That their friends are loyal and plentiful, and that the other kids are a lot nicer. But based on how society seems to be going into a shit spiral, I'm doubtful and I'm scared.
Here's hoping I can keep that to myself so my kids aren't as damaged as I was/am.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
Relapse, Relapse, Relapse, Relax Relax (Ba Ba Ba Ba Da Daaaaa)
Got Panic! At the Disco in your head yet? No? Because you've never even heard of that band before?
Well, that's your problem because they're wonderful.
That's not even my point. I'm just being a smart-ass because why not?
I haven't been posting a lot lately simply because things have, at least in my mind, settled down. I've been getting used to juggling work and home life, getting a new routine into play, sorting out things with T so that we can work as a unit... I was feeling really good.
Was. See how I used a past-tense verb?
These past couple weeks, I've been feeling flustered. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. Emotional. Yes, certain female issues played a part in that. But not all. I've been having trouble adapting to different situations, I've been requiring actual moments of "close your eyes and breathe" at work as well as at home, and other obsessive habits have kicked in again (rearranged my bedroom while the kids were unattended upstairs).
I've been trying to pinpoint why I've been feeling like this, and a friend of mine pointed out that maybe it's the fact that a year ago at this time, we were going through the hellish experience of Mr. M being so small and sick in the hospital. I feel like I've got some residual PTSD over this, simply because I didn't really deal with the emotional turmoil at the time of everything happening. I pushed it aside because I just didn't have time to be upset; I didn't have time to break down and curse and sob. I had to be strong and pulled together because I had people who depended on me.
Now? Those same people depend on me, but in a different way. Mr. M is growing up so much and from what we can tell, there aren't many lasting effects of his hospital stay. He will still have appointments with a pediatrician as well as his family doctor; he'll meet with the urologist until his inevitable surgery and go through different diagnostic procedures to determine how his organs are doing; at some point he will probably have to go through some developmental testing and/or hearing tests to make sure that everything is still going okay. But he's alive. He's alive and he's thriving and god-fucking-dammit it is such a relief that all of the emotions that I bottled up a year ago are coming through all at once.
We've been told by doctor-friends that the outcome that we got with Mr. M was a likely one. A ballpark 60% positive to 40% negative outcome. I can only thank the fact that we believe and trust in our healthcare system here, not to mention be thankful that we get our heathcare covered by the government. I can't imagine going through all of that ... and then being devastated by what would surely be a $1 million hospital bill.
That's beside the point. The point is, I feel out of control right now and it, itself, is getting out of control. I don't like it. I don't like that I can't tame it back and control it. I don't like that I can't just tell myself to stop and relax. I just plain don't like it. I'm not willing to take more meds because honestly, I don't want to take them for the rest of my life.
I just need to find my zen. My simple, basic, inexpensive zen.
Well, that's your problem because they're wonderful.
That's not even my point. I'm just being a smart-ass because why not?
I haven't been posting a lot lately simply because things have, at least in my mind, settled down. I've been getting used to juggling work and home life, getting a new routine into play, sorting out things with T so that we can work as a unit... I was feeling really good.
Was. See how I used a past-tense verb?
These past couple weeks, I've been feeling flustered. Overwhelmed. Exhausted. Emotional. Yes, certain female issues played a part in that. But not all. I've been having trouble adapting to different situations, I've been requiring actual moments of "close your eyes and breathe" at work as well as at home, and other obsessive habits have kicked in again (rearranged my bedroom while the kids were unattended upstairs).
I've been trying to pinpoint why I've been feeling like this, and a friend of mine pointed out that maybe it's the fact that a year ago at this time, we were going through the hellish experience of Mr. M being so small and sick in the hospital. I feel like I've got some residual PTSD over this, simply because I didn't really deal with the emotional turmoil at the time of everything happening. I pushed it aside because I just didn't have time to be upset; I didn't have time to break down and curse and sob. I had to be strong and pulled together because I had people who depended on me.
Now? Those same people depend on me, but in a different way. Mr. M is growing up so much and from what we can tell, there aren't many lasting effects of his hospital stay. He will still have appointments with a pediatrician as well as his family doctor; he'll meet with the urologist until his inevitable surgery and go through different diagnostic procedures to determine how his organs are doing; at some point he will probably have to go through some developmental testing and/or hearing tests to make sure that everything is still going okay. But he's alive. He's alive and he's thriving and god-fucking-dammit it is such a relief that all of the emotions that I bottled up a year ago are coming through all at once.
We've been told by doctor-friends that the outcome that we got with Mr. M was a likely one. A ballpark 60% positive to 40% negative outcome. I can only thank the fact that we believe and trust in our healthcare system here, not to mention be thankful that we get our heathcare covered by the government. I can't imagine going through all of that ... and then being devastated by what would surely be a $1 million hospital bill.
That's beside the point. The point is, I feel out of control right now and it, itself, is getting out of control. I don't like it. I don't like that I can't tame it back and control it. I don't like that I can't just tell myself to stop and relax. I just plain don't like it. I'm not willing to take more meds because honestly, I don't want to take them for the rest of my life.
I just need to find my zen. My simple, basic, inexpensive zen.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Money
You want to know what's making me really anxious and depressed lately?
Money.
I know that as an adult, everyone is worried about money. Most people are worried about paying off their crippling student loans, or dealing with saving money to buy a house.
Me? I'm worried and anxious and depressed about surviving week to week.
Somehow, me going back to work has actually made our money problems more pronounced. I don't know how, seeing as we now have two incomes. But shit is just bad.
I'll write a full post later. There's a lot more to it.
Money.
I know that as an adult, everyone is worried about money. Most people are worried about paying off their crippling student loans, or dealing with saving money to buy a house.
Me? I'm worried and anxious and depressed about surviving week to week.
Somehow, me going back to work has actually made our money problems more pronounced. I don't know how, seeing as we now have two incomes. But shit is just bad.
I'll write a full post later. There's a lot more to it.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
I Worry
One of the (many) downsides to being an extroverted introvert is introspection. I spend a lot of my time thinking, and a lot of my time thinking about what others think of me. I alternate between getting down on myself for being a hot mess - honestly, you should have seen the disaster I was at the grocery store today - and trying to say that I give no f's what other people think of me. It's kind of exhausting, now that I have it out in the open.
But why do I worry about what others think of me? Why am I constantly comparing myself to others? Why can't I just go about my business and move on?
Honestly, I have no clue. I'm so concerned about outside opinions that I can't even begin to find an opinion of myself that I like and can build on.
The struggle is real, folks. And golly, am I struggling.
But why do I worry about what others think of me? Why am I constantly comparing myself to others? Why can't I just go about my business and move on?
Honestly, I have no clue. I'm so concerned about outside opinions that I can't even begin to find an opinion of myself that I like and can build on.
The struggle is real, folks. And golly, am I struggling.
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Is it me? Am I aiming too high?
Every time I start blogging, or have some magical push of creativity, I always say that I'm going to blog more. That I'm going to do it with relative consistency.
That has happened zero times.
I don't know what it is. I mean, I like to write, I like to talk... I like to talk on the internet (aka writing) a lot more than I like talking in person, so one would assume that a blog would be the perfect medium for me.
It's not like I don't have time to do it - I have a relatively fast typing speed (although it could be improved seeing as I haven't really used it as much as I used to), so churning out a blog post once a day or once every couple days should be easy.
Maybe I'm just lacking in subject material and/or I don't want to bombard the three people that read my ramblings with stories about my kids or my husband.
I actually think that the problem is that I'm just aiming a little too high. It's like every time I say I'm going to start a weight loss plan. Rather than starting small and giving myself little goals, I'm like "OKAY ALL THE EVERYTHING STARTS NOW" and then two days later I'm crushing a pack of timbits in my car en route home so that it "doesn't really count"
Shut up, you know you've been there.
So my short term little goal is to write another post this week. Here's hoping I can finally follow through!
That has happened zero times.
I don't know what it is. I mean, I like to write, I like to talk... I like to talk on the internet (aka writing) a lot more than I like talking in person, so one would assume that a blog would be the perfect medium for me.
It's not like I don't have time to do it - I have a relatively fast typing speed (although it could be improved seeing as I haven't really used it as much as I used to), so churning out a blog post once a day or once every couple days should be easy.
Maybe I'm just lacking in subject material and/or I don't want to bombard the three people that read my ramblings with stories about my kids or my husband.
I actually think that the problem is that I'm just aiming a little too high. It's like every time I say I'm going to start a weight loss plan. Rather than starting small and giving myself little goals, I'm like "OKAY ALL THE EVERYTHING STARTS NOW" and then two days later I'm crushing a pack of timbits in my car en route home so that it "doesn't really count"
Shut up, you know you've been there.
So my short term little goal is to write another post this week. Here's hoping I can finally follow through!
Monday, March 14, 2016
For the Love of God
For once, I'm not using that phrase blasphemously.
I'm honestly confused and confounded by those who have a relationship with God. It's not that I don't believe in Him, I just don't understand the innate love that some people have for Him.
I was brought up a Roman Catholic. A "only practicing when we have to" Roman Catholic, but RC nonetheless. I attended Catholic schools, went through all the sacraments, even got married in a Catholic church. But that was more about just following the path, less about choosing it myself.
I have friends - good friends - who are Christian and proud. They shout it to the world - both literally and figuratively - about their love for God and how he has set out this plan for them. How can they know? How can they just blindly believe that "everything happens for a reason" or that their faith is being tested or, or, or.
It's not that I'm trying to argue with their faith. If anything, I'm proud that they believe in something/someone so fully that they will tell everyone and anyone about it. Maybe I'm mildly envious that I don't have that same sort of belief system in place.
Or maybe, just maybe, this is my call for help in understanding.
I'm honestly confused and confounded by those who have a relationship with God. It's not that I don't believe in Him, I just don't understand the innate love that some people have for Him.
I was brought up a Roman Catholic. A "only practicing when we have to" Roman Catholic, but RC nonetheless. I attended Catholic schools, went through all the sacraments, even got married in a Catholic church. But that was more about just following the path, less about choosing it myself.
I have friends - good friends - who are Christian and proud. They shout it to the world - both literally and figuratively - about their love for God and how he has set out this plan for them. How can they know? How can they just blindly believe that "everything happens for a reason" or that their faith is being tested or, or, or.
It's not that I'm trying to argue with their faith. If anything, I'm proud that they believe in something/someone so fully that they will tell everyone and anyone about it. Maybe I'm mildly envious that I don't have that same sort of belief system in place.
Or maybe, just maybe, this is my call for help in understanding.
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