Life moves pretty fast

Last I posted was the beginning of the year. I started my final semester, a new way of eating, and a new year in life. To quickly catch up on the state of the Strange Child, there’s been some changes.

I managed to lose 30lbs so far and the changes to my eating habits haven’t been as difficult as one would think. I didn’t realize how much of a sugar addict I was until I removed all that was “naughty” from my cupboards. I’ve experimented with substitutions for things I used as staples (rice, pasta, potatoes), to more low carb options (cauliflower “rice”, sweet potatoes) that were successful. Other substitutions, (zoodles) that didn’t work out so well. I’m feeling better, but I need to make an appointment to get new bloodwork done. For now, its continuing what I’ve been doing.

Another development recently was a new addition to the household! We adopted another dog, who’s ridiculously adorable!! She’s two years old, a pibble mix we think, and is a bit of a “special needs” dog. She was born with a deviated palette and a deformed lower jaw so her tongue hangs out all the time. She also snorts loudly like a pig, which is why we named her Pigby. She requires only a little bit of extra help in that she has to be cleaned up after when she eats or drools, so she’s like a toddler that never grows up. Daisy and her get along great, chase each other and play. We’ve taken both of them out separately into public to see how they behave and both did very well. Daisy still has this need to smell all the things, while Pigby just wants to hang out and meet people. My babies are awesome!! Here’s a couple shots of my babies:

See???!! Cuteness overload triggering brain explosions!

Beyond being covered in pibble awesomeness, I am finally done with school. I will have my Bachelor’s degree in my hand at the end of the week. My parents are coming up to celebrate this weekend, friends are joining us as well to BBQ (provided Bay Area weather isn’t too bad) and with that, I’m done.  I’ll be starting to look for work and ways to continue making art, and hopefully selling it as well. I know I’m not interested in going back to making average pay, stuck at a desk, normal hair, and covering up my tattoos for a 9-5 where yes I’m appreciated but its just meaningless.

I am tired of being invisible. I want to be seen.


Alright Universe, you made your point!

“I’m fucking done with sadness, and I don’t know what’s up the ass of the universe lately but I’ve HAD IT. I AM GOING TO BE FURIOUSLY HAPPY, OUT OF SHEER SPITE. … I’m going to destroy the goddamn universe with my irrational joy…”- Jenny Lawson, from her book Furiously Happy

I got recent blood work done and as I see it, it’s the Universe finally smacking me so fucking damn hard in the back of the head to get my attention. The Universe sometimes needs to be a royal cunt about getting her point across, but she’s going to make it whether you like it or not. According to the tests, my hypothyroidism is still very much an annoying thing, but now I’m pre-diabetic. This means I’m now officially at a crossroads regarding my health that I, temper tantrum brewing within, must do something about my weight. I can’t ignore it.

Whenever I attempt to do something like this, my brain demons crawl out of their holes to lash out at EVERYTHING. The little bastards just fight every idea, zap whatever energy I have, and put up mental roadblocks all over the place. I swear, the fuckers even attach a 4000lbs boulder to my waist making it physically difficult to do even the tiniest of attempts toward my goal. Self-sabotaging twatgoblins!!!!

I’m already struggling against another bout of depression, one that’s drained me to almost empty. I got my MMJ card last year and a few nights ago my usual bedtime head conversations wandered over into a poorly lit area of my brain. It ran across Jenny Lawson’s book, Furiously Happy. In it was the above quote and, as if the weed had sprinkled glitter on the thought, it began to shine. I should be furiously happy too!! DEMENTEDLY HAPPY BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *insert evil diabolical laughter*

There are at least four things to keep in one’s mind when starting this according to Lawson. Since I’m positive she and I could very easily be insanity twins, I believe I will be able to beat the balls off of the mental twatgoblins that live in my head. I mean, they never pay rent, leave their wet towels on the floor, and they keep licking the walls. Who licks walls??!! I’m sure they taste bad.

First, one should never apologize for loving the things you love. I love pop culture, weird oddities, and randomness. This one I pretty much already abide by willingly these days. Being 40 now, I openly taunt normalcy with my blue hair, my tattoos and piercings, and a love of costume jewelry and hair things. Hubby may roll his eyes at some of my choices, but he has learned in our eighteen years of being together that all he’s going to get in return is my pierced tongue sticking out at him.

Second piece of Lawson’s method is to fake it like you know what you’re doing. Hell, as an artist this is stupidly easy because honestly historically NONE of us know what we’re doing and art critics were only created in order to help bullshit the public into believing that we DID know what we were doing the whole time! If someone asks about why I’m doing something, I’ll bullshit my way out of it with my sparkling brilliance! Or my usual response, “Why not?”

Third nugget of Lawson’s wisdom is the hardest one for me personally as it’s one of my greatest weaknesses: it’s okay to fail and okay to retreat for a bit. Failing makes me spiral, as it’s connected to some of my abuse recovery as well as my ADD. But Lawson’s, as well as my therapist, advice is to listen to what my body is telling me, respect it, acknowledge my emotions, and don’t push myself too far. Little steps at my own pace makes the potential for anxiety lower. When I’m not feeling social and just want to burrow, I have to give myself permission to do this sometimes. Hubby knows now to not push too hard, yet knows how to make sure I don’t burrow too deeply for too long.

Fourth in the lineup is the most important thing to remember: never, EVER forget that you matter to someone, and that someone’s day is better for you being a part of it. Hubby loves to watch me be a dork, the oddball floating on a unicorn inter-tube down the Sea of Normal. We go to Dickens faire for his birthday, and this last one I attached my plush octopus Jose de Pulpo to my shoulder to go with my tentacle top hat. I kept getting compliments on Jose, especially by kids who I let pet Jose, and even helped another little girl attach her own octopus to her shoulder. Hubby remarked to me later that the best part of his birthday was watching how I lit up each time someone approached me. He said, “I know that I can cast a big shadow, and that often you’ve found yourself under it. But watching you get attention for being, well, you, was more fun to watch than anything else.” *swoon* Damn I love that man!

So I’ve decided to give the middle finger to feeling like shit stuffed inside a bag. I refuse to be sent back to where I was: unemployed… Greenland!! Wait,…………………………, that’s Princess Bride. Sorry about that. (turns TV down) I refuse to crawl into the hole my mother has, and most importantly I don’t want end up in a motor scooter. At the very least not until my nineties. When I’m stylishly old like Auntie Mame and throwing confetti around the most awesome old folks home. I am going to be scary happy! Hubby may end up wanting a dart gun that hits me with 100ccs of Thorazine under some notion that it will prevent my possible incarceration in a mental ward because of something I did at the grocery store, but I see that as further evidence of his love for me.

Forty is the new forty

I’m now middle age. *blinks* Yup, nothing different other than I’ll need to update my drivers licence photo next year.

New semester at school has begun. Learning to paint with oil paint which is just ridiculously annoying. Its like painting with cake frosting which would actually be better because then I get to lick the paint brushes and not risk poisoning myself with toxic stuff. Plus, cake frosting doesn’t smell horrible. And doesn’t have a risk of spontaneously bursting into flames either. Although, I’m sure that it could happen depending on what kind of frosting it is and who’s making it. I suppose that frosting made by a cartoon villain would be potentially  dangerous, especially if they were trying to outsmart say that annoying asshole Roadrunner. Seriously, that damn bird is just a troll that needs to be stopped! He’s such a prick!! Beep Beep motherfucker! I see you! I know you’re just trying to cause trouble so just run your feathery ass outta here!

Where was I?

Oh yeah, I got old. So Hubby gave me an awesome present by taking me down to LA for a day to have dinner with some dear friends that I haven’t seen in forever at my all time favorite restaurant. A place full of meat and tasty bad for you stuff!! I really wish I could find a place like it here in the Bay but sadly I haven’t. Had an evening of insane laughter, cute baby introduction, and MEAT!!! nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom!! I developed a cold earlier in the week so I was a bit off due to my lungs having gunk and my ears being worn out from being irritated. But I managed to fight it off enough to ejoy myself this weekend. Had a very small get together the next night at the house with Bay friends so overall it was a fabulous weekend.

He asked me if I felt different at all being 40 and I really don’t. I mean, the new medication is most certainly helping keep the head weasels in check and I haven’t been feeling like I’m dragging a 4000 pound boulder everywhere with me, which is good. But I don’t feel like I’m great or even thumbs up, just …………………..fine. Meh, I guess its the best I could ask for right now. One step at a time.

My art work is improving, which makes me happy. I hope to start creating a website soon in order to begin actually selling stuff. Probably an Etsy shop too. If I’m going to make being an artist my full time gig, I have to actually be making it my job which means I’m throwing my entire fat ass at the process. Can’t lazy it up, gotta makes the dough. I’ll probably also work on creating some sewing items that I can make that I can sell at fairs or events. I may end up working on getting into those too. Whatever it takes.

Being now the dreaded “middle age” just means I’ve got shit that still needs to be done. People to wreck, places to do! And candy to devour! So much chocolate to consume! Age is just a number in the end. Its the life lived that matters.

Screaming Internal Head Monkeys would make a great band name!

Summer breaks really suck honestly. Like, they suck ridiculously massive sized bowls of dicks that are sucking other bowls of dicks, which makes for a disturbing image that now is probably going to haunt my dreams later. Let’s just say, there is a lot of sucking happening here people!!

For my summer art progress, I have managed to so far make one small fluid painting, and two color pencil drawings that helped me practice with the medium a bit. I’m now working on a Fiona Apple image that goes with my Tori Amos one I’m so in love with. I’m now, more then ever, convinced that I will need to get a studio outside the house that I can treat like a job that I go to because I NEED to not be just stuck here, mentally or otherwise. Better lighting, more space, and most importantly, OUTSIDE OF THE HOUSE!!!

I’ve got a bit of the Screaming Internal Head Monkeys today. I want to scream but its only going to freak out the dog and frighten the neighbors. Whenever I’m depressed AND bored, it becomes this toxic cocktail for my inner monologue. I feel like peeling my own skin off because its just twitchy and feels like its got things crawling around inside it. Body image issues blossom into ever so delightfully annoying mean girl voices singing a chorus of all the ways in which I suck. And finally, a cherry on top of this, I have too much mental energy that’s wrestling with my physical energy which feels like a 100 ton pound boulder chained to me.

So, to provide a visual representation of what my Screaming Internal Head Monkeys are making me feel like today I give you this:

Stupid asshole brain!! Just kinda want to randomly throw things or smash something. *sigh* Having ADD and depression fucking sucks, people!!!

I’ll be starting a new medication tomorrow. Yay. I have been taking Wellbutrin for several years now but noticed it wasn’t working as well. So my doctor decided to add Lexapro to see if it will boost my mood up a bit. Three months later and it hasn’t helped any. So I’m weening off the Lexapro and onto Cymbalta to see if that will help any. Was a bit annoyed to find out that my current insurance doesn’t cover my Adderall, so I’m going to be further off of it until next month when my new insurance starts. Then I can refill the prescription without having to pay over $100 for it!! (Oh, and go fuck yourselves Big Pharma and Insurance companies. You stink.) I also had to find a new primary physician because my previous one moved to a different office which has a membership fee of $149/ year, which I didn’t see as worth paying for. So found a new doctor closer to me and we shall see how she works out. I really liked my old doctor. She was so damn easy going! Oh well, maybe this one will be just as nice.

On a more happier note, I get to Lilymonster in almost a month. AND she gets to have grandma and grandpa time!!! I can’t wait to see her be the ball of joy that I love her for. Even though it’s only for a brief few days, seeing Mom having ALL of her grandkids around her will be worth it. I wish I had time to show her Star Wars or Labyrinth or something like that, but I don’t think it will work out. Another time I suppose! I just can’t wait to hug her and see her. That’s my joy at the moment.

I can’t figure out how to end this. I don’t have any kind of witty way or glitter bomb to drop that leaves this on an up note. So instead I’ll quote Bob’s Burgers:

“I was gonna hit you, but I’m holding wine!”


Brain dumps

Have you ever felt like there are things just crawling around under your skin that travel the paths of your own thoughts? Like, you’ll be laying there, trying to relax and then you’re struck by this intense need to just peel off your own skin because it feels so foreign and wrong and uncomfortable that you just can’t stand it anymore. Just rip it off like some Scooby Doo villain reveal.

Every inch of me I want to tear apart and start over. Head over to the body parts store, pick up all new parts like I’m rebuilding a car in my garage. New hair, new eyes, new torso, new arms, new butt, new knees, new spark plugs, the works! Earl Shine would paint my ass for $19.95!! I just want out of this skin. I know this is hormonal shift, depression wanting to beginning, anxiety linked to stress, and lack of a constant stable routine, but it is still annoying as hell.

I have been successful in keeping myself working on things. I got at least 2 of my elements paintings done or at least very close to done. I traced out the photos for my color pencil drawings today so that project is set to begin at some point next week. Once those are done, I’ll pull out the sewing machine. I have some fabric that I can use as right now I can’t buy anything. I hope I have thread, haven’t checked on that yet.

But skin crawlings is frustrating me. I need the weather to get better so I can go outside to just chill. You’re not helping weather!!! It’s almost June, act correctly! *pouts*

*deep breaths* I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

Fuck you skin.

Projects, projects, projects, keeps the insanity away!

Another semester is down and only one left to go! This one was pretty light in the way of work, but the stress was most certainly there. Hit a financial snag right at the start of it, thanks to the actions of a sick individual that I’d LOVE nothing more than to see ripped apart by a pack of starving crazed weasels with rabies. (Karma, come on! I believe its your turn up to bat, buddy!) The ceramics class was fun, frustrating, but cool to play with. I ended up with half a bag of clay left over so I’ll have to figure out what to do with, as well as how to fire it.

Drawing class was extremely frustrating, but I did however get to learn how to use color pencils better and THAT has inspired a massive urge to play with them more. The final assignment was to do a photo copy replica of an image based on other artists who work with color pencils. I picked an image of one of my obsessions, Tori Amos. I discovered her music in 1994, right at a time when I was trying to block out all of things that were tearing me apart. Her music got me through some of my toughest moments; moments when I was so close to not surviving them. Her songs were like the caring hugs that I needed during those times. When I turned 21, I got the piano notes of one of her songs tattooed on my right ankle with her favorite flowers wrapped around the notes. (Side note: Fiona Apple has also become just as important as Tori to me. Her stuff has been the rope I grab onto during dark moments. I plan on getting one of her songs tattooed on the other ankle) So when I needed to do a photo to draw, she was the first thing that came to mind. I chose an older image of Tori from around the time I discovered her to do as I figured it was fitting. It turned out amazing in my opinion. Several people in class mentioned how much they thought it looked good, and because of it I want to do more drawing like it. Here’s the image for all to enjoy. (Or at least those that actually read this blog.)

I think I did an amazing job, so I don’t care what anyone else says. Its my first time working with color pencils and I got a chance to understand how to color properly. Over the summer break, one of my personal tasks is to do at least three of these so that I can practice.

Speaking of summer plans, the scheduling of projects has begun so that I don’t lose my mind. I think I’m going to actually print up a work schedule so that I can stick to a routine, which always makes for a less crazy Strange Child! I’ve got my parents 50th in July, so I’ve got some crafting decorations to make. The projects I want to work on are as follows:
Finish my four elements paintings
3 Color pencil drawings
Sewing practice
New front door wreath
Eye flower bouquets
art studio organization
Random abstract artworks
clitoris sculpture for cousin

I will have to also schedule in workouts, getting out of the house (maybe even with Daisy), and hopefully some reading. The sewing practice is to help me prepare for the Doctor Who convention that we’ll be going to in February. I need to plan and make my costumes I want to cosplay. So excited for that! Hubby is also going to cosplay! EEEEEEEE! (happy dance) I’m going to have to make a dress form which I’m not looking forward to. (Oh yay, I get to look at a physical sculpture of my fat carcass.) I want to attempt a dress at the very least. I can get through a circle skirt so far, and I’ve got some throw pillows that need to be finished, but if I can manage a dress I’m gold!

So many projects!! Hopefully I will be able to be too busy to let the brain demons attack me. I don’t want to sink, so I’m laying out the ropes before the water gets too high.

The worst Oscars life reel would be mine.

I know this might be shocking but I’m crazy. Not “oh cool, the aliens in my toaster are repainting the walls again” kind of crazy, but the kind that still warrants keeping an eye on oneself. I think of it as being more like a jigsaw puzzle that is frequently put together, missing a few pieces, or has pieces of another puzzle mixed in. Recently got diagnosed with ADD, which runs through my family like lactose through the intolerant. Whenever our dog Daisy goes bonkers, we say that she’s got “head bees”, so in a way, I’ve got my own head bees. As well as head goblins. To put it simply, the inside of my head hovers between the chocolate room in the Wonka factory and Silent Hill on a rainy day, with random useless knowledge popping up like VH1’s Pop Up Video.

Recently during my usual struggle with my brain’s refusal to shut up when its time to go to sleep, I wandered over mentally into my memories. Memories of how long have I really been dealing with this bullshit. So here’s where it gets personal people!! Prepare for the realness!! This list is kind of crappy when you think about it, but its just what it is. I’ll admit that it will make for the WORST “this is your life” reel for the Oscars. Feel free to skip it if you don’t want to know. I’ll understand. It’s lacking in glitter ponies so I can’t really blame you for skipping it:

  • At age 6, I was bullied for my glasses and my emotional sensitivity. I begin hating what I look like.
  • At age 9, the first time that voice tells me that I was worthless, and that no one cared about me. It was the first time I felt invisible.
  • At age 11, I heard the whisper to be dead.
  • At age 12, my household started getting………..different. I began experiencing anxiety issues as a result of many of these shifts, as well as the toxicity within it.
  • At age 13, I hurt myself for the first time. Small scratches, but enough to trigger a mental sense of relief when I did it.
  • At age 14, I become involved in a physically abusive relationship, later sexually assaulted. Not much longer, my first suicide attempt. I try to slit my wrists at school. My mother’s response was, shall we say, inappropriate. I never told anyone about the abuse or the assault until I was in my thirties.
  • Between ages 15-18, whatever it took to numb myself emotionally. Dabbling in drugs and always believing that I meant nothing to no one.
  • At age 19, I came close to committing suicide again after a painful breakup with yet another emotionally harmful relationship. Had the pills in my hand, but a letter from a friend made me laugh so hard I cried and I didn’t stop crying for a few hours which got me to pull away from the edge.
  • Age 30, after dealing with some other issues I reach my mental breaking point when I locked myself in my bathroom to prevent myself from punching my fist through a window in order to cut my wrists open. I finally decide to seek therapy.
  • Age 37 diagnosed properly with ADD with chronic depression and an anxiety disorder.  Medicated and therapy becomes part of my life.

See! The audience is now all uncomfortable and desperately wants to sneak out to the lobby to get some M&Ms or popcorn. My therapist recommended to me years ago that talking openly about my struggles helps take the shame I associate with my craziness. She said that asking for help is the strongest act I can take, so saying to people, “Hey, so yeah I know that most of the time I’m all rainbows and shenanigans, but underneath all this is a scared little girl that thinks that everyone hates her because she cries, so I could really use some love right now otherwise I might just walk over to that edge and not stop.” I guess this is why I love Catherine Tate’s Donna Noble from Doctor Who. She put up this facade of snark because deep down she believed that she was worthless.
17522897_1336657633055591_8966408900149772778_n I frequently find Hubby and me having this very conversation. Made even more amusing that he has a doctorate so he’s my own Doctor. Minus the Tardis of course. But he reminds me that I am, for him, the most important person in all of the known universes. Once again, The Doctor saves me. Only its my doctor. Have GOT to figure out how to get him to make me a Tardis. He’s smart, so I’m sure he could figure it out.

So the voice has started up again recently, whispering lies, and I push against them. Its exhausting sometimes. But, I push on. Numb, but push on. Lather, rinse repeat. I’ll get my glitter back again. The sparks will fly and the chocolate factory will overflow with delights. Great, now I want candy! I might need to hit a candy store this weekend. Get me a big ass bag of diabetes!! Candy glitters people. Just go with me on this.