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.


Families are like pimples of the butt.

First, I need to vent about the weather. Its July. In California. And I’ve had to wear a sweater for the past week. The summertime in the Bay Area is like Bizarro World, where up is down and summer is windy, overcast, and cold! Even the 4th of July was pointless of a day as the damn fog again for the 2nd year in a row, blocked EXACTLY the line of view of the fireworks. To describe it so that one can understand the visual better, it was like the Bay fog was acting as a censor bar covering up the fireworks like nudity during a news broadcast. Apparently the fog thought the fireworks were sinful and therefore needed to be forbidden from view, which much like nipples on a man, the 4th without fireworks is utterly pointless. That, and it was all super windy and that just blows. (HA! I’m a hoot!)

Well my summer plans for going through my pintrest boards has failed. I managed to get just the one thing done and few recipes tried but other than that,…………I dropped the ball. I have been a good girl with going to back to the gym and getting there at LEAST 4 times a week and working out for no less than 1 hour. I’ve even done 2 hours once! Watching old episodes of Doctor Who helps make the time go by like a snap. I can be on a treadmill for hours as long as I’ve got my Doctor to watch. I may need to switch over to Supernatural soon though. I need a bit of variety, otherwise my attention wanes while I’m on the treadmill. Plus, the TVs at the gym are set to horrid places like CNN and Faux “News”, and since I go in the early morning, there’s the horror that is the View and Price is Right. Meh. I’d just put on Netflix if the damn WiFi in the gym was remotely useful. Much like Shawn Spencer discovered, it only works in just this one spot, which isn’t around the machines I use or like using. I’m hoping that around my birthday I can afford to get my own treadmill, so that I can stop paying for the gym and workout at home. This way I can watch The Doctor and the Winchesters to my little fangirl heart’s content, or even read my homework, while I walk for a few miles.  I have to figure out a way to get workouts in when school starts again. My weight is hideous. And not in a body shaming kinda way, more of a “Oh god I’m turning into my mother!” kinda way.

My mom. *sigh* Okay I need to vent about that now. I love her, but when she got diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002, that was the beginning of her fully giving up on life. She beat cancer, watched both her children get married, became a grandmother, and  then she retired from nursing in 2010, and ever since then, she’s just slowly turning into an angry little hermit with bitter, occasionally racist, tendencies. She hardly leaves the house anymore, and if she does, my oh so delightful father insists on going with her. (Probably because he’s afraid of her falling, which she does a lot. That and her driving is…………….well,……bordering on being comical if not scary. She’s just bad at it. He’s no peach, what with his dashingly beautiful road rage. He really is a gem of a human at times.) Since he insists are coming with her, he then in turn spends the entire time bitching at her about how she “doesn’t need that, why are we looking at that, lets just go so you don’t spend any money, bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch”…………Again. Such a delight!! So she just gave up. She can’t really walk well anymore due to both of her knees being replaced which is now causing her to develop a hunchback from not moving as much as she should. She walks all crooked like. Oh, did I mention that she’s only 70? I’ve meet some 80 year olds that are in better shape than her. She’s been cancer free for 12 years now, managing to only need radiation treatments because she caught it extremely early. She’s a diabetic but she controls it with her diet mostly. I managed to convince her to never use any of the sugar substitutes as that only makes it worse. But she gets all HULK SMASH whenever she starts talking about all things wrong with her health, and her life. She claims to have fibromyalgia, but I question this, mostly because she only seems to “feel like crap” when other friends I know that DO have it scream about pain levels and such. I think what her real problem is that she’s clinically depressed, refuses to do anything about it, and is just waiting to die. She declared that she’s got to make it to my nephew’s bar mitzvah, then she can “check out”. Awesome. *eye roll*  Oh, and I’m not supposed to do anything for her funeral either. “All my friends are dead, so is all of my family, so just do something where there isn’t any of that weeping shit.” Poetry,……….. it just rolls off her tongue with such grace folks! Dad on the other hand just wants to be put on the curb in a Hefty bag so he says he’s aiming for a Tuesday night death so he can be on the curb for morning pickup. And these very same people that call me weird for liking strange taxidermy???!!


This is my genetic people!!! My brother just shrugs and goes “That’s them” and I’m like,………but, but……………… *peels face off in frustration*  *deep breath*

So when I look in the mirror lately, I see my mother. It needs to stop, so I need to do whatever I can to stop it. As The Mother of Dragons said, “I aim to break the wheel” so that this cycle doesn’t continue any further. I already know Lilymonster is already breaking several of them simply by being as far away as possible. She’s all optimist and proud, and beams with excitement that she has her own personal library in her room that’s now spilling over into the living room. (That’s my girl!!) I can’t wait to see her next month and play around with her on her home turf. As well as feel some freaking heat!!! Man I don’t get this micro-climate shit for the Bay. Still haven’t gotten used it.

Onto more positive things: ART!!!!! Managed to make two paintings so far. The one I haven’t quite finished, just needs a few more touches. But I did managed to make a semi self-portrait recently. Wasn’t intending to, but it just unfolded that way. I’m not transferring to Mills in the fall as FUCK that place is expensive!! So back to SFSU I go and hopefully, if I plan it just right, I might be able to graduate this semester. I hope. If not, then only one more for sure. This semester I’ll be taking an English class on ecology in literature, a class on the Harlem Renaissance, and hopefully two studio art classes in mediums I haven’t worked in. Provided they are still available when I can register.

I need to make art. I have to be better focused on making things once I’m done with school. I might look into getting a job at SFMOMA now that’s re-opened after school is done. Just a thought.  But definitely making the process of making art a job for me and getting my stuff out there more. Mustn’t just give up and wait to die.

Break the cycles. Break them into specks of dust.

Sometimes, ……what you’re most afraid of doing, is the very thing that will set you free.

And make unicorn poop cookies. Because that TOTALLY needs to happen!

I should be studying, but,….

Its finals time again, and I’m stalling my studying to write this because I’m lazy and don’t want to. *glares at neglected studies* Stop it. Stop guilt tripping me, ya bastard! I’ll get to you in a minute!

Anyhoo, thought I’d write up something since I’ve been dealing with a few things and I figured it might be best to get it out of my overcrowded dysfunctional brainmeats before they start to go rabid and all foamy at the mouth, leaving me a twitching ball of insanity on the living room floor. I don’t really twitch mind you, more like stare blankly at the TV like a zombie that’s been neutered.

So what’s life been like recently? Well I’m glad you asked, and that you care, because one of the issues lately is another bout of depression trying to sneak its way in under the guise of “See, no one cares. I’m you’re only friend, so let my torture you with aaaaaaaaalllllllllllll the things you suck at, including this whole people loving you thing, as its so much fun!” Little fucker. I am on the hunt for a new meds doctor as my current one has moved to a far away location that I don’t think is worth driving out to for 30 minutes to just get a refill on my prescriptions that I am not sure I want to continue taking or are working properly at the moment. I don’t really agree with the ADD diagnosis and want to reevaluate that whole thing. I know I suffer from chronic bouts of depression and anxiety issues with the occasional panic attack. I don’t like how the ADD meds make me feel, I don’t think the anti-sad pills are helping as much, and I want something to help with the resurgence of the panic attacks. I also want to see if this doctor can help me get a weed card. The chocolates I have aren’t helpful ever since I had that horrific panic attack in February. Every time I’ve tried to have some, even the lowest grade in a sliver amount, triggers my panic. Hubby thinks its psychosomatic which I agree is more than likely, so I figured if I switch back to the herbal version, I might be able to get back to using it like I used to. I do find it amusing in an ironic way how the idea of going somewhere to get the card is causing me anxiety. So a giant middle finger to the useless DARE program that I was forced into taking as kid.  (Seriously, waste of time and a boring t-shirt to boot)

Hubby has a new job, again, but this one seems like it should be far more productive for him, as well as stable. He’s looking at more traveling as well, which is another reason for why I want something for the anxiety as whenever he’s gone for long periods, I become paranoid about the house getting broken into by someone, and I’m getting killed or hurt because even though I have a “dangerous pitbull” as a pet, all they have to do is bring a vacuum with them, or say they’ll give her a bath, or have some fries to distract her and I’m freaking toast! She’s not as cowardly as Milo was, but she’s just as useless of a fierce protector. I probably shouldn’t be saying any of this because now I’ve given all the bad guys a road map for how to kill me. Fuck! Uhhhhhhhh, ignore all that! She’s vicious! She’ll gnaw your face off and eat your toes! She hates fries and will laugh at your threats of vacuum monsters and evil foamy baths! Ever hear a pitbull laugh? Its terrifying! Fear her!! I’m so screwed.

Well in case I’m not killed because my ferocious pitbull is still gnawing on the bones of her enemies, I still need to deal with the depression that wants to barge its way in. I feel lonely at the moment, as I hunker down for finals and whenever Hubby is away, so I don’t tend to get out as much. I swear, I’m the living embodiment of a balancing scale of weirdness! I am introverted in that I LOVE being left alone to do whatever I feel like, watch whatever I feel like, but yet after about a few days, I crave social interaction, but don’t want to be alone in doing it. Throughout all my life, I watched as friends seemed to form tight groups with other, while I never seemed to be included. I saw them go out and have all these adventures while I was never even thought about inviting me to. They have all these moments that they tell me about, and as I’m hearing it all I can think of is “Why didn’t you call me to join you?” I feel…………..forgotten. As a got older, I figured it was fine as life made it tricky to have more free time, and the funds, to do all those things. But still…………………this continues to happen. So one begins to wonder: is it me? Am I the reason for being left out? Did I do or say something that makes people not want me around? So this kicks off the train of “Why Do I Suck” spiral of doom that leaves me crawling around in my own skin. The effects of abuse have resulted in me wanted to please everyone, to make sure that everyone loves me so that they either don’t hurt me or leave, which I’m getting better about letting go of. But this? It still remains. Its why I have such a love/hate relationship about my birthday because it always flares up strongly during that month. Lately, its been a loop in my brainmeats that if I disappeared, no one would notice I was gone. How do you shut that voice off when it continues to point out the fact that people DO leave you out? Its hard to not listen when you see an overwhelming amount of people you love all gathered together going on trips, going to events, or having parties and you were never called or asked to join in, and when YOU reach out to throw your own events, they all suddenly are busy doing other things. Being an adult sucks donkey balls, people! Especially when you’ve got brainmeats that don’t work properly!

I KNOW its childish and ridiculous to feel like this. I’m almost 40 for fuck’s sake! “Its quality, not quantity”, as Hubby tries to soothe me with. *eye roll* Stupid charming man. *sticks tongue out* I need to make more friends. Ones that art artistic, history nerds, geeks, and unicorn allies. And glitter enthusiasts! You can never have enough glitter. As Raymond Reddington said: Never underestimate the power of glitter!

*sigh* I need to get to studying. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming……….

New Art, new/old worries and how skulls can make the blues go away

I finished my last semester at my city college this week. I did a great set of Alice in Wonderland inspired pieces which I love so much. Lets look at how fabulous I am shall we:

Twisted Alice
Twisted Alice
Caterpillar Oracle
Caterpillar Oracle
Down the rabbit hole
Down the rabbit hole
Mad Hatter's chair
Mad Hatter’s chair
Queen of Hearts
Queen of Hearts

See? I’m completely amazing! I’ll be transferring to the State University in January…… provided that I’m able to afford paying for it. *le sigh* We’re (fingers crossed, candles lit, glitter tossed, dolls with pins whatever it takes) hopefully not going to be heading towards another financially setback. The instability of the tech industry is………well…………….annoyingly frustrating. Seriously. So we’re in yet another holding pattern because the fear of no money coming in just after we had no money coming in. If the shoe drops, I’ll have to postpone my schooling as we won’t be able to pay for it in the slightest. I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to get financial aid as it is. So, yeah. Rainbows and kittens all up in this bitch!!

I’ve already registered for classes which will be all general education courses so that I can get that nonsense out of the way quick. This means no art classes for a semester sadly. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will however be working on setting up a list of things to do during this semester so that I keep up with my skills. Use it or lose it people!!! I’ll even work on some paintings so that I can improve on those too. And whenever I get the chance, I’ll submit my work for showings. This is will work. Yes, I will get through this and we’ll be fine.

Anyhoo……………too much dwelling on toxic depressive subjects. Its Christmas time!!!!!


I need to start baking stuff as it makes me feel better to have happy smells in my house and to shower my loved ones with sugary sweets that will eventually cost them a foot or at the very least put them in a diabetic coma which, honestly, is TOTALLY worth it because damn my fudge is awesome!! I need to do something positive and joyful, and baking four different types of cookies, four different types of fudge, and covering things in glitter and stuffing boxes with four pounds of sugar and mailing it to friends is one way to make me feel a tiny bit in control of my world at the moment. The house has been decorated and we’ll get a tree soon which will once again have tentacles sticking out on the branches to express our undying devotion to his Elder God awesomeness Cthulhu. There will be other decorations people but come on……………….my tree has tentacles!!! Once the storm of the century recedes, we’ll put the decorations on the outside! Nightmare before Christmas pumpkins with Santa hats, scary wreath with teeth, skull wreath on the door, and hopefully shiny bows with skulls on them! Ahhhhhhh I love my quirky love of things dark and spooky!! My goal to be an Addams is going to happy people!!!

Where’d I put my hot buttered rum?