Sep. 23rd, 2012 07:28 pm
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
So we moved and all. And I didn't write about it because I was exhausted and went into extreme introvert mode for a while.

I love the house we've got. There were some glitches at first, but that's to be expected. Okay, we didn't expect the hot water heater to break and to go for the first week and a half without hot water, but oh well.

It's very green here, and very very hilly. There are many, many flowers. Sometimes I think I'm in California again. Mostly, that doesn't bother me too much. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love it here. It's beautiful, and moving here felt like a gigantic weight lifted off my shoulders.

I'm working at the call centre for an online pharmacy that sells meds to Americans for Canadian prices. It's not a bad job, all told. Most of the customers are extremely friendly, and the few that aren't tend to be unintentionally funny.

...sigh. I'm happy but I think I've forgotten how to write about my own life.
treefrog: screenshot from Iron Man (Selfcreation)
Dave has found us a house in Abbotsford! Apparently it allows cats and has a decent-sized kitchen. Since I've been cooking in a cramped cubby-hole with no counter space or cupboard space for the last year and a half, this is a source of tremendous joy for me. It will be nice not to have to occasionally pause my meal preparations to shout "Sweetie??? I HATE THIS KITCHEN!!!"

It's also got enough rooms that I can have a library/office for lurking/reading/computering purposes. This is pretty much vital to me. I am never quite happy unless I have a room that is all mine, that I can shut other people out of if I need to.

Dave took a video of the new place. I couldn't see much from it but it looks quite nice. Dave says the back yard is a disaster because the landlord had to tear up a bamboo patch that tried to take over the universe. We get possession on August 4th, not the 1st, because the landlord needs to make a few repairs before we move in. Since I won't even be moving down there until the 15th, this isn't a problem.

...guys? I'm scared. I feel like I know how to handle it when things go wrong but I'm all at sea when things go right. It worries me when I have so much to lose. I mean, don't get me wrong. I can't get out of this stupid place fast enough. I want to make this move. I love my family but I'm sick of them breathing down my neck.

I'll be home again to see Nate come home from his mission. It'll be good to see him again, but I worry. His letters weren't him, they were just loads and loads of church-speak. The family environment will be even more intensely Mormon than usual, and I just don't wanna deal with it. I will deal with it, though. Nate is family. He delayed his mission so he could MC my wedding, so I can smile and be sociable and be there for him when he comes home. They're all family, and they didn't turn their backs on me when I changed my belief system. I won't turn my back on them, now or ever. I just wish I had someone to exchange pained glances with when things get intolerably... well, Mormon.

Why do I start yammering about church crap every time I try to write in LJ? I don't think about it that much, really.

...sigh. Going to pack up the kitchen today. Wish me luck.
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
My husband is going away in a few days, and it's only just now starting to sink in. I love having the house to myself, but I'm not looking forward to this much house-to-myself. I'm not looking forward to cooking meals just for myself, and not having anyone to talk to.

My parents are going on vacation, but Matt is home for the summer and he will be around. We're both introvert-types, but we've always been content to just lurk about with our respective laptops and be companionably silent.

So much has been happening lately, I feel like I should just shut myself in an empty room for a day or so just to unwind. It's not that it's bad stuff... hello, new computer!... it's just that there's been so much of it. I feel like my blood has turned to caffiene. It's not a bad feeling, just so, so overwhelming.

Uploading CD's to my new computer right now. I haven't had a proper iTunes playlist in years. Mostly it has lived on Yvaine, my dear, battered little iPod. It feels strange to have a full-sized computer again.

It's strange just to write about stuff for the sake of writing about stuff. All the writing I've been doing for school and freelance is all very specific. It's strange not to have keywords, word counts, political correctness or a feminist perspective in mind, depending on who I'm writing for. I enjoy it all, even the stupid keywords, but I sometimes worry that I'm losing my own voice.


Jul. 25th, 2012 05:36 pm
treefrog: a golden tree frog (Beauty)
So, Dave and I, thanks to the kindness of his grandparents, were able to do some upgrades recently. I got a new computer (and a new laptop, a small and awesome Macbook Air). And I cannot believe how awesome and gorgeous and generally coolsauce it is!

Since my computers must always have names, the desktop is Thor and the laptop is Loki.

On the advice of my kittehs, I upgraded my operating system to OS X: Tortoiseshell. I am running a Rosie-approved system, so nothing can go wrong! *knocks on laminated particleboard desk and hopes it counts as wood*


Packing continues chaotically (as evidenced by the mess in the background of the photo!) but which part of moving isn't chaotic? I wish it was all over with. I really, really do.

Still, all things considered, I'm quite content and looking forward to the move. Not looking forward to the time I'll spend here by myself while my husband is in BC looking for a place to live! I guess I'll just get in touch with my inner crazy cat lady and start chatting with the kittehs.

...wait, I already do that.

*disappears back to packingland*
treefrog: Words in the heart cannot be taken (Words)
So much is conspiring to make me feel like I'm in another time and another place. It's like somehow I'm afraid of moving on, so instead of taking new stuff for what it is, my brain matches it up with things from my past and says "Hey, this is just like that time when you..."

Except that it isn't. I'm in my early 30's now, not my early 20's. I've certainly got a lot of bullshit ahead of me to deal with, but the stuff from the past? That's... I've done it before. I can do it again. I don't know what's got me so worried. Especially since there are some things that are never going to happen again, so even though I could in theory handle them, I don't have to.

For instance, I will never have a jackass boyfriend again. I'm married to a man who respects me, cares about my wants and needs, and hears "no" when I say "no". I will never again have to negotiate a relationship where "no" means "I'll just pester, belittle and harass her until she gives in just for a bit of peace and quiet". That's in the past, and I'm never going to see that guy again. Before a few days ago, I literally hadn't thought of him in months. Now, for some stupid reason, my brain wants to go over the whole humiliating debacle and try to make me ready for it to happen again.

And then, of course, there's the move. I'm not going to be walking into another minefield! ...okay, well, I sort of am, but all moves are like that and in this case I know where most of the mines are already. And again, I can handle it. It's just that... things keep happening that remind me of the bad times. This is mostly a result of going through my stuff and seeing physical reminders of things I would like to forget (and throwing most of them into the trash, or at least the Goodwill pile).

Furthermore, I resent the implication on my brain's part that everything in my life has been bad. It hasn't. It's been an overwhelming majority of good. I'm not the sort of person who dwells on the bad stuff, and I'm not about to become such a person. I'm just so incredibly weary of feeling off-balance and unprepared. It's going to be just fine. Really, it is.
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
The baby magpie is still mucking about in the back yard. Its parents go bonkers whenever we approach. They did this last year, too.

I'm given to understand that there aren't any magpies in BC. I'm not going to miss the squakwy bastards.

I just want to get this move over with. Just... over with. I hate moving, and I have moved so many times over the last decade or so, I can't even tell you how much I hate it.

I'd really like to write but I can't seem to focus just now. So, maybe later, maybe tomorrow? Even writing smattery nonsense like this makes me feel more like myself.
treefrog: a golden tree frog (Beauty)
Dave and I were roused from our peaceable, computer-related activities by a tremendous commotion at the back door. All four cats were riled about something, and there was a lot of high-volume magpie profanity coming from the back yard.

Well, most of it was coming from the back yard. Some of it was coming from the basement. More specifically, it was coming from a baby magpie that Emrys had cornered under a chair in the basement.

Such a goofy-looking critter it was! It was about the size of a softball and fluffy as all get-out, with a formidable baby-bird frown. Its wings were not yet full-grown, so it was relatively easy to catch. It proved to be unhurt but seriously pissed off. I took it outside, where it stopped struggling to get free, clamped its claws onto my hand and cussed me out.

It was eventually persuaded to transfer its grip to the roof of the shed, swearing all the while. No question where it learned that sort of language; its parents were squawking magipieish imprecations at me throughout the whole incident. There's gratitude for you, huh? I'm amazed I didn't get dive-bombed.

At least it wasn't a live mouse this time. That was much harder to catch!
treefrog: a girl reading a book (Booklove)
I've been reading A Game of Thrones, or re-reading it. I got two and a half books into the series back in Cali, but quit reading them because let's face it, they're a bit of a downer.

Right now I'm about three quarters of the way through the first book and enjoying it a lot more than I expected to. Maybe I've put on a few years' worth of cynicism since the last time I read this stuff, but I'm enjoying the hell out of watching the villains sashaying around being villainous. I can't help it! They're having so much fun!

I've been working my way through the TV show and staying more-or-less even with where I am in the books. I'm enjoying that too, though I think I like the opening credits more than anything that's actually happened in the show. That's not even a dig at the show, they're just really cool credits. Also, prettyboys. In armor. Hell yes.

At the time of this writing, there are three cats sprawled on the bed next to me. I just hope they don't decide that their comfy sprawl space doesn't suddenly start looking like an equally comfy brawl space.
treefrog: Words in the heart cannot be taken (Words)
It's raining outside. Also thundering, lightning-in and hailing. Now, I love thunderstorms, but I was planning to go out and DO stuff, which would be somewhat impeded by being hailed upon.

So, my brain being what it is nowadays, I feel trapped. The same restlessness that's driving me to write again is making me feel like the rain is a cage. I can't stop thinking that I'm going to be moving to a place where it pretty much does nothing but rain. At any rate, that's what it's done the past two times I've visited there.

And I can't stop thinking that last time I moved far away, to a warm green place, things went so far wrong that it still hurts to think too hard about it. It doesn't help to remember that I loved California, that I made some of the best friends there that I will ever have, that love and life and magic were bound up with the misery and hurt. All I can think, like a rodent trapped in a grey rainy cage, is that it's going to happen again.

And when I think that, my hands go numb and shake, and my head spins and my stomach knots up and I can't breathe. It's not that I think I can't go through another California. I know that I can. I know that I can because I know that I'll fight and I'll burn myself out and I'll come out the other end still kicking, but it won't be over because these things always, always come back.

And this is why I have to blog. Because having written that, I feel about a hundred pounds lighter. Still terrified, but able to converse civilly with my husband and stepkid.

This will be okay. I mean, yes, if I move to BC I might get hit with a massive depression/anxiety episode... but if I stay in Edmonton, it's a sure thing.
treefrog: an antique pistol (Gun)
I discovered the languages menu on "Uncharted" and have been playing in French. The voice acting is excellent, I'm getting the hang of thinking in French again, and I've learned at least one new swear word.

Who says video games aren't educational?

I'm thinking I might also re-read the Harry Potter books in French. I have them all, including the two "textbooks". Although, come to think of it, I don't have "Tales of Beedle the Bard" in French. Perhaps a trip to the French bookstore is in order. I miss being able to speak French as easily as English, but I'm reassured by how fast it comes back when I read or listen to French material.

In fact, playing a video game all in French has proved linguistically immersive enough that I yell at the TV in French when I run out of ammo or fall off a cliff.

Yep. Educational. *nods sagely*
treefrog: a word bubble with punctuation indicating swearing (Swearing)
See, this? This right here? This is why I need to blog.

My husband's ex-wife is hoping to move into this house when we move out. Which would be fine except that my backyard shares a fence with my parents' back yard. And my parents want to be good grandparents and would want to stay in touch with my stepson if at all possible.

But I don't want them getting cozy with my husband's ex-wife!!! I don't want her to be that much in my life! Part of the reason I'm okay with leaving is that I don't want her in my life anymore! Do you know how hard I've had to fight just to get her as far out of my life as she currently is? I DON'T WANT THIS!

But my stepson, who has trouble with bullies at school, has a lot of friends in our crescent. If he moved here, he'd get to see them all the time. He'd go to school with them, in a school where he doesn't have a history of bullying problems. As a kid who was bullied, I can't deny him that.

But... my husband's ex-wife! Talking to my family on a regular basis! Possibly about me! There are no words for how much I want this woman off my turf. But I guess even moving to another province isn't enough to make that happen.

And my husband won't stop talking about it. All he talks about anymore is this move. Which I want to do, really. But for him, it's going home. For me, it's jumping into the unknown. And feeling guilty for taking my stepson away from this neighborhood where he at least gets to be happy on weekends.

Looks like I can be happy, or everyone else can be happy. And I feel like a three-year-old, but that makes me angry.
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
So, it's... been a while, hasn't it?

I barely write anything anymore, and I miss it.

In preparation for our upcoming move to BC, I've been going through my storage, some of which I haven't looked at properly since high school. I used to write all the time. There are books and books filled with my handwriting, which was much better then than it is now.

I was a pretty good writer then, too. I was also quite pretty--I wish I'd been able to see it. I wish I'd been at liberty to use it while I had it.

But then... there were quite a few mementos from boyfriends and would-be boyfriends. I decided not to throw all of them out. I kept the ones from my high school boyfriend, even though I felt an unexpected pang at the one letter of his I opened and read. I really loved him. I really, really did.

As always, throwing out useless crap is a huge relief. Old movie tickets! Outdated resumes! Music from choirs I sung in when I was in high school! UofA registration crap! Cheques from three addresses ago! WHY???

And Church Stuff! HOLY CRAP with the Church Stuff! Cutesy papers with cutesy inspirational sayings (Mormon females are bombarded with cuteness from the cradle to the grave), pamphlets outlines the details of all the rules, rules rules, bits of who-knows-what with lace attached, various copies of various church-related books... and more cutesy stuff with even cutesier sayings, holy crap, where did it all come from and why did I save it?

It felt good to throw it all away.

Except the stuff I didn't throw away. Stuff from friends. Pictures from camps. Memories of people I loved. I'd say I kept... maybe a tenth of it?

Anything that I connected to feeling good about myself, I kept. Anything that made me wince, I tossed. Except my writing. I kept all of that, even the poetry. It's bad, but I think I see some of what I couldn't see before, that other people saw in me.

I'd like to be that person again. I don't know if I can be that person again.

But I can be a person who writes, and so I shall.

NaNo Day 3:

Nov. 4th, 2011 12:02 am
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
Only got 1146 words out today, mostly due to not having a clue what I'm trying to write. Tomorrow, I will write an outline and the usual goal of 2k words. The day after that, 3k words to catch up.

NaNo Day 2:

Nov. 2nd, 2011 11:48 pm
treefrog: Jack Sparrow asking why's the rum gone (Rum)
4020 so far.

This is all coming out as a stupid, ugly, messy infodump with no plot. But I'm going to keep at it.

NaNo Day 1:

Nov. 1st, 2011 11:24 pm
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
Word count: 2001.


Oct. 31st, 2011 11:57 pm
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
I am doing NaNo this year. If you are similarly insane, my name over there is eaboero. Add me!
treefrog: a word bubble with punctuation indicating swearing (Swearing)
I really hate the part of new meds where the walls break down. I know it has to happen but holy fuck it hurts when it does.

I'll just pretend I'm Granny Weatherwax in Maskerade. I delayed the hurt when I wasn't able to take it. Now I can, so I have to. It feels a lot more badass than "I would like to hide under the bed and cry now".
treefrog: an antique pistol (Gun)
I'm about a week into the promised medication switch. I'm being taken off of effexor and am almost ready to quit it entirely. In the meantime I'm working up to a full dose of celexa, which I've used before with good results.

I also, about a month ago, went back on hormonal birth control because I don't menstruate without something to force my cycle, and when I don't have a regular cycle, the depression/anxiety monsters come out of their cages and have a field day. Around the same time as I changed medication, I got my period for the first time in a few months. It never ceases to amaze me how much instantly better I feel when the actual bleeding starts. That said, it's not entirely normal. This doesn't surprise me, as it often does this when I've skipped for a long time. I won't go into detail. Suffice it to say that even though I'm used to this happening from time to time, it's just as nasty every single time.

As to the medication switch... as predicted, I feel lost, confused and insecure. My brain, as I knew it would be, has been removed, shaken vigorously, and put back in without a map as to where everything ended up. I've been feeling ridiculously apologetic, to the point where my husband has forbidden me to apologize for anything anymore (though this is a bit of an inside joke, as I frequently tell him the same thing). If anyone feels like I've been avoiding you... well, I've been avoiding all social contact. Being around people is alarming and stressful when I'm a stranger to myself.

But you know what? I feel better. I don't feel like my mind is collapsing on me anymore. I don't feel like a crash is inevitable. I'm having to work hard to keep myself on an even keel, but at least this hard work isn't doomed to failure. Writing helps; I may feel like a different person but I still sound like the same person.

Hell, yesterday I was actually feeling happy and chatty, so I'm already miles gone in the right direction.

While I've got you all here... I need you to know I'm grateful for your friendship. Even when I'm being dodgy and unsociable, you mean the world to me. I couldn't win this fight without knowing that you're there and that you're on my side. It matters hugely, so thank you, thank you, thank you.
treefrog: screenshot from Iron Man (Selfcreation)
I've about 90% made up my mind to go to the doctor tomorrow to discuss changing antidepressant/ anti-anxiety medication. I'm on the biggest dose of Effexor I've ever been on, and while I'm okay, it's a borderline thing, and it would take only the smallest nudge, next to nothing at all, to drop me back into the black hole where my humanity can't quite follow.

Weeks of insomnia are alternating with weeks of constant, restless sleep. I can feel the pitch-black weight of dread poised to settle in the pit of my stomach. I feel the familiar panic building in my muscles, ready to race through my body like sick, polluted lightning. I feel the stiff, isolating numbness creeping over my face like hardening clay while in the back of my head the screaming is starting and I know if I don't do something soon, it will grow until it drowns out all thought and leaves me paralyzed with fear and confusion.

I don't want to do this. Switching antidepressants is a bit like having someone rearrange everything in your kitchen, and then ask you to make dinner with a blindfold on. The new arrangement may be infinitely better than the old one, but that doesn't mean you have a clue how it works yet, and there are no instruction books for this sort of thing. Navigating the sudden mismatch between body and brain is exhausting and off-putting and sometimes it's tempting just to quit and settle back into the depression because at least it's familiar.

But I don't have that "luxury". I have a husband and a stepkid. I have school. I have people who need me... hell, I need me, and it's not like this is my first rodeo. I've hurt worse than this. I've kept on walking with less juice in my tank than this. I've kept on walking when my circuits were so fried with this mental bullshit that my body felt like a huge lump of pain a million miles away, a breathing corpse operating on memories of being alive. I've always kept on walking, kept on walking, kept on walking. I'm not about to quit now. I wouldn't even if I could.

And with this entry, I've voiced my protest and I'm good to go. That's right, Depression, Anxiety and the rest of you sniggering little trolls in the internet forum of my brain, I hate you all and having said that, I will cease to pay attention to you. Tomorrow, I'm going to the doctor and one way or another, you lot are all going back to the filthy void that spawned you.

Whereas I will be going swimming with my husband, taking another step towards being okay.
treefrog: treefrog silhouetted through a leaf (Default)
Dave and I have been married for one year today! Apart from all that time not worrying about the wedding anymore, it's been a good year. Due to us being on a vegan/gluten free cleanse, and Dave not being paid for a few more days, we're officially celebrating next weekend. I... can't think of anything to say that isn't cheezy, but I am looking forward to the next year, and all the others after it!
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