Posted in anxiety, auction, bugaboos, C-PTSD, chronic pain, community, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, faith, friends, health, life, medical, society, storage

1/19: Whatever Comes

[Still need help to get storage finished and caught up. If I don’t get it caught up before the end of the month, it’ll go to auction and I get no more second chances. Help me get it caught up.]

Life is full of ups and downs and challenges and … you get the idea. I’ve been to Hell and back so many fucking times in my 46 years that it’s like a second home. I face the challenge, deal with it, move forward.

Today potentially presented a new challenge for me. I started to feel pain in my left armpit last night and it continued through today and is getting a bit worse. I’ve done nothing to the area so I checked it in the mirror for swelling. There is a bit of swelling, so off I went to Urgent Care.

*Disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing yet.

I left shortly after with a scrip for Amoxicillin. A swollen lymph node is the culprit. Why it’s inflamed, we don’t know. I see the plastic surgeon who messed up my reduction surgery in 2015 this coming Friday. If the swelling and pain has not begun to subside by then, I’ll request a biopsy.

I’ll also go up and get a boob squish session (ahh, mammograms) this week as well. It’s been a bit over 2 years now. They told me to go for 3 years, but this is a special situation.

There are a handful of things a swollen LN can be. The next level up on fighting some random infection, RA (no other signs, though), Cancer, etc.

Yes, I said the C word. What if it happens to be that? Then I’ll fight to the end of my damn days. The end of the world. It’s one more challenge for me to face.

It could also be nothing major. Which would be nice for once. I mean, shit, I’ve had cellulitis, a heart condition, C-PTSD, anxiety, broken bones and sprains that made the doctors wonder if I’d broken anything. I’ve been homeless. I’ve been raped repeatedly.

I’m still here. I’m still fighting. It would be nice to get a break health-wise. But if not, okay. Bring it on. Never tell me something is impossible. Or, better yet, DO tell me that so I can prove you wrong. I take perverse pleasure in proving someone wrong about me.

This is life. As sucky as it can be, this is life. If things in your life aren’t challenging, then you aren’t pushing yourself to truly live. Granted, no one wants cancer. But challenges are a part of life.


Posted in artsy stuff, baking, celiacs, cooking, crowdfunding, faith, gluten free, urgent

Aww, Biscuits: Adventures in Gluten Free Baking!

Over on Pinterest, I found a recipe for gluten free biscuits. I gathered all the ingredients I didn’t already have and finally set to making a batch earlier this evening.

One aspect of baking I’ve never quite gotten the hang of is working with yeast. These call for yeast. I’ve always known that you give the yeast a chance to bloom in warm-ish water first. This recipe doesn’t do that. Toss it in with everything else and then add slightly-warmer-than-room-temp-water to it. Okay.

Brain was not on the ball. See, due to issues in the pipes, there’s a slightly musty smell/taste to my tap water. I get those large containers of water at the store. So, what do I do? Pull the 1.5 cups of water for the recipe… from the container in the fridge. Cold. Water.

Well, shit.

The biscuits took a bit long to rise. Finally got them in the oven, alongside a pan of chicken thighs.

Between the moisture from the chicken and the whole ‘yeast taking forever’ thing… they came out barely done in the middles and nice and chewy around the edges. Not bad, but yeah… could be better.

Next round: warm water and nothing else in the oven with them. I may play with them next time and mix in some cheddar with half and garlic with the other half. The flavor is… okay. But they definitely need something on them.

While I was able to get my storage unit out from under the threat of auction, I still need about 700 (late fees since the start of the month) to get it fully caught up and accessible. Once I can get in there, I can move the non-essentials to a smaller unit. I have a multitude of things needing money this month, and not enough income to do them all. So, a little more help.


Posted in artsy stuff, community, creativity, crowdfunding, dreams, gratitude, life, poetry, storage, writing

1/15: The Rain

[I still need some help to finish getting storage caught up before the end of the month. I have a second larger financial commitment to also cover, as well as smaller bills. Any help, sharing included,is greatly appreciated.]


Rain washes the dirt away.
Sending it below the city.
Streaks of grime mar
The sides of buildings.
Along the mortar
Between the bricks.

Drops hit my face.
Flatten my hair.
The rain soaks through one layer.
Two layers
Gets to my skin and
Makes me cold.

Others run to stay dry.
I stand in the open.
Unconcerned of image.
I know I will not
From the rain.
I’m a good witch.

The clouds pass above me.
A brief glimpse of what
Is beyond.
Light and dark.
Rule the blackness beyond.
As the stars tell their stories.


Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, community, conformity, crowdfunding, depression, disability, empath life, gratitude, life, poetry, storage, writing

1/14: The Void (#poetry)

(Still need some help to finish catching up on storage. As I have to save up for other things as well. Any help/sharing is appreciated.)

Standing in the middle.
Never enough.
Sometimes too much.

Where do I sit?
When the table is full.
And no one sees me.

The outcast who sees more.
More than the box.
More than the road ahead.

I am not the help.
But I am also not the boss.
I am in the middle.

Waiting to be seen.
When those who matter
Look up from their meal.

The emptiness of space
Separates me from them.
I cannot hear their words.

The vacuum silences the critic.
It also silences the muse.
Space envelopes the vacuum.

Scream into the void.
Yet I hear nothing in return.
Not even my own voice.

I see them at the table.
All the same. All puppets.
The strings tangled together.

The puppeteer enveloped by the void.
Unseen but there.
The puppets think they have control.

I hold my own strings.
No one owns me.
No one controls me.

The table remains full.
I wish to sit, but
Not to be controlled.

I remain in the middle.
Holding my own strings.
Outside the box.

Posted in creativity, dreams, poetry, writing

1/9: #POETRY: Bones and Leaves

Leaves scattered
The courtyard becomes
A ghost town.

Bones of wood
And canvas
Broken in violence.

Tendons of string
Wrapping around trees
Tangled in the bark.

Crumpled pieces
Tumbleweeds of war.
Move with the breeze.

Leaves pile upon
Protect each other.

Curled edges darken
Ink blends into nothing.
Become ash.

Burnt words fade
No longer coherent.
Knowledge turned to dust.


Posted in auction, cats, chronic pain, community, disability, faith, family, friends, gratitude, life, peace, storage

1/3: Long day *thud*

Thank you to those who helped me get to a smidge over halfway on storage. Saved it from auction and just have to get the remaining amount paid up before the end of the month.

I got it taken care of on my lunch hour from work, then headed back and worked the rest of the afternoon. My internship doesn’t pay a lot and is only 16 hours a week. Hence also looking for another job. Then I caught the bus and headed to a task, which I’m just heading home from now. The stress and constant go, go, go of today has me wiped out, but back to work tomorrow. Just the internship.

I just hope the elevator in my building is finally fixed by the time I get home. It’s been down for a week. I’m only on the 2nd floor, but the stairs are still difficult. And I can’t do much grocery shopping until it is fixed.

Gonna go home, feed and snuggle the cat (who will likely be rather peeved at me for not being home to feed her at her usual time), then get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day. Hopefully one with a bit less stress.