Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, individuality, job hunting, life, society, storage, urgent, writing

8/13: Self Defeat?

Advertisements
Posted in baking, bugaboos, community, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, grief, life, storage, urgent

7/28: Cookies and Board Games

[Please share any of my posts. We’re getting down to the way-too-close point of the month to get storage caught up before it gets more added to it.]

I finally got up (pain) to go out to the kitchen, determined to make cookies. It’s chore time (weekends, it’s at 10am), so back to the room I go.

I wanted to make sugar cookies, but every recipe out there says I need baking powder. I wouldn’t hesitate in a normal situation, but I have one lower cabinet and limited space. I don’t have any and I doubt the house supply of stuff does either.

So, I’ve settled on baking shortbread. It has three freaking ingredients: sugar, flour, and butter. I’ll add some vanilla extract because I want flavor. After chore time.


One of the two blog post ideas I had running around in my head yesterday was about games and board games.

When I was a kid, my dad, brother, sister and I would set up a table in the living room and play Monopoly or Parcheesi, or some other game we had on hand. I enjoyed those evenings. Mom never played. I didn’t know why then and still don’t now. And unless someone wants to hold a seance, I’ll never know. I have other, more pressing questions to ask her anyway. Like why didn’t she finish college.

Since reaching adulthood, though, I’ve strayed from playing them. Any board games. I’m just not interested.

So, why am I bringing this up now? Because someone here started an “anything goes” group on Friday evenings and it’s usually things like Pictionary. Meh.

Every week, someone asks me if I’m gonna go play. Just like when the people who do Bingo and dinner come around each week. I get asked if I’m gonna go play.

I’m not.

So, last night, I started wondering why I don’t want to play them anymore. When friends hold a game night and invite me, I don’t go.

It could be partly from the New Years Eve when my last living grandparent died that morning and I still went to a slumber party from my church group. I stayed in one chair the whole night except for using the bathroom. I didn’t go play Jenga in the dining room. I didn’t participate in any other games. I was mourning. Shut down.

Maybe a small part of it. But I also have become increasingly tired of competition. Yes, I’ll watch my favorite teams play, but participating? Nope. Not really interested. I’ve watched as people who aren’t family get all wound up in the competitiveness and lose sight of the fun part. I just don’t see it as fun when people get borderline vicious over a damn game.

With family, it was fun. Family gatherings playing various games were always a blast. Now? I rarely see them. I think with family, it’s understood that it’s all silly fun. When you’re dealing with the people I live with, that understanding isn’t there.

Well, chore time is over, so the kitchen is open again.

Still need help with financial stuff…

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, empath life, grief, homeless, homelessness, life, storage, urgent, writing

7/25: rediscovering myself

So, yes. Still need help with getting things caught up financially. Preferably before the end of the month. Whether it’s via the GFM or PayPal (preferred), any help is vastly appreciated.

So… after last nights fucked up mess, I had therapy today. I read her the poem and the second post about getting my life back. Talking to her about the argument and what I posted got me realizing that I’ve been focusing so hard on real life shit that I’ve pushed aside all the stuff I love that has defined who I am and how I want my life to be.

Music, writing, etc.

While I can’t do much on the music front, I can write. She noticed that whenever I get into the deeper emotional stuff, I back out and start talking about my writing or music.

I had a warped little prompt pop into my head while on my way there. So, I’m playing with it and seeing where it might go. A mix of fantasy and murder.

I’ve missed the creative release. I see who I become when I push that aside and try to work too hard on real life. I have to stop feeling guilty for writing in the midst of the mess my life currently is. I’m angry. At myself and the injustices I see and experience around me. The bullying and lies. The hate.

I give myself permission to create in the midst of madness. I need to keep reminding myself of this, as I no longer have my dad to nudge me.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, empath life, grief, homeless, homelessness, life, storage, urgent, writing

7/25: rediscovering myself

So, yes. Still need help with getting things caught up financially. Preferably before the end of the month. Whether it’s via the GFM or PayPal (preferred), any help is vastly appreciated.

So… after last nights fucked up mess, I had therapy today. I read her the poem and the second post about getting my life back. Talking to her about the argument and what I posted got me realizing that I’ve been focusing so hard on real life shit that I’ve pushed aside all the stuff I love that has defined who I am and how I want my life to be.

Music, writing, etc.

While I can’t do much on the music front, I can write. She noticed that whenever I get into the deeper emotional stuff, I back out and start talking about my writing or music.

I had a warped little prompt pop into my head while on my way there. So, I’m playing with it and seeing where it might go. A mix of fantasy and murder.

I’ve missed the creative release. I see who I become when I push that aside and try to work too hard on real life. I have to stop feeling guilty for writing in the midst of the mess my life currently is. I’m angry. At myself and the injustices I see and experience around me. The bullying and lies. The hate.

I give myself permission to create in the midst of madness. I need to keep reminding myself of this, as I no longer have my dad to nudge me.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, C-PTSD, crowdfunding, depression, domestic abuse, emergency, empath life, homeless, homelessness, life, observations, society, storage, urgent

7/24: burned out

Burned out.
Torn up.
Tired of all of it.
Sick of the hate.
The pettiness.
The lies.
Why do humans do this?
Why the hate?
The judgement.
The condemnation.
We are no better than those around us.
Yet…

Many think they are.
No.
We are different from each other, but no better.
The pine box will be the same
No matter who or
What
You
Are.

I just had a run-in with one of the bullies here at the shelter. I wrote the above poem a few days ago, but it’s how I see things right now.

People don’t seem to realize that others do see how they treat people. Some of us watch, observe them. We hear the things they say when they don’t think anyone is listening.

Hear them trash someone who is unable to defend themselves. Then gaslighting me saying I said something and I didn’t. It’s exhausting dealing with people who don’t get that their behavior is bad. I snapped. I slightly regret doing that.

Being an empath who can’t block worth shit in a building full of unstable women is not something I’d wish on anyone.

I’ve hit my breaking point.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, C-PTSD, chronic pain, depression, disability, dogs, family, health, homeless, homelessness, life, PTSD

7/4: Snafus

I’ve gotten bitchier of late. Snapping at people, many here at the shelter. Being argumentative with some. S asked me what’s gotten into me lately. I know and yet, I don’t know. Frustrated with my situation; being/feeling constantly stuck, taken advantage of, gaslighted (gaslit?); never seemingly able to get myself caught up to where I need to be.

Working on shit and maybe getting close to handling certain aspects of my life, then something comes along and sets me back. The incident* on the bus being the latest.

I posted a couple days ago that my life feels like one snafu after another. A second thought regarding that keeps passing through my mind. That of, “I AM a snafu.” But I’ve never written it down or said it out loud until this post. I kept pushing it aside.

Why?

Because it lends credence to what my mother told me when I was 9: that I wasn’t meant to happen. They (she) only wanted 2 kids and I was 3rd. In her eyes, I was a mistake.

So, I kept dismissing it. But with everything going on, it keeps coming back and tapping me on my shoulder.

Where am I going with this? Not one damn clue. Just needed to let it bubble to the surface and hope for the best. May e now that I’ve released that phrase to the world, maybe it won’t keep at me.

* yesterday, on 7/3, I was on the bus heading to my appt when some asshole turnes left in front of the bus. The driver slammed on his brakes and avoided collision, but my head hit the “well padded” hip of the woman two seats to my left (priority seating center facing seats). My brain got a bit jostled, but no clear signs of a concussion. And my neck is sore. These are no surprise. Reported to Trimet via Twitter. I don’t blame the bus driver at all. The asshole in the car? Them, I blame. If anyone were to get a lawsuit handed to them, it would be that asshole, not Trimet. It would’ve sucked, but a part of me kinda wishes we had hit the car.

Well, the dogs on our floor are all going berserk over the fireworks outside. My head still hurts, so I’m gonna take my meds and get more rest.

~A

Posted in activism, anxiety, auction, bugaboos, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, friends, health, homeless, homelessness, life, observations, peace, politics, society, storage, urgent

6/27: Duck and Cover (more #crowdfunding) SHARE ME!

SHARE ME!! PWEASE?

Still looking to raise at least $300 more before noon Thursday 6/28 (tomorrow) Pacific Time. The FB fundraiser is no longer active, as it takes a couple of days for funds to transfer. I hope the funds raised so far will make it to my account in time.

It’s now closing in on 12 hours before auction. Less than 18. I’m starting to get some decent tasks, so I hope I can continue paying it down after it gets pulled. With that, I hope to never deal with it getting this way again.

In other stuff… not gonna get too political, but with Justice Kennedy retiring, women like me, who rely on Medicaid for a number of things to manage my health, this is not a good time to be poor, disabled, and female in the U.S. Add Liberal to that, and it gets a smidge worse. I’m looking at my options and they aren’t many in number. I don’t have the money (obviously) to run to another country right now. I don’t have much tying me here, so if I do scrounge up a way out, I’ll likely take it.

Borders: I want to expand on this a bit, but the question that’s been bugging me: Why do we obsess over borders here? I know we aren’t the only country to do so, but I look at several countries in Europe whose borders are little more than a demarcation line in the pavement and a sign. And it’s been this way since long before the European Union. Other than pissing contests over land (Mine! No, MINE!! No, no, no, MIIIINE!), I don’t see the point in it. Migrant workers from the south of us have long benefited our agriculture and society and they’ve gotten some kind of pay (yes, I think they should be paid better, but that’s a whole other post). With fully open borders and people being able to come and go as needed, relations with other countries would be vastly better. And no, only a fraction of those who come from the southern countries are drug dealers/mules/kingpins. And that issue would become a non-issue if we legalized ALL drugs and treated it as a health issue instead of a criminal one. Look to Portugal for that.

But that is all for other blog posts. I’m just over here trying to save my stuff. Things that help me survive and things close to my heart. Just trying one more time.

Thank you,

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, homeless, homelessness, housing, life, observations, poverty line, society, storage, urgent

6/26: #crowdfunding and drama

#Crowdfunding still in urgent mode. Auction is less than 48 hours away. Once payment clears from last week, that’s 300, plus $135 from fb donations. I need to get at least $700 to pull it from auction. Any help is appreciated.

I’d have stuff written beyond begging, but we’re having some major drama here at the shelter. Lies, backstabbing, gossip, accusations, and that’s just today. I’m exhausted. Emotionally, physically, mentally.

I’m getting singled out and punished via lies and gossip for standing up to bullies. An email has been sent to the manager of the building. I have another task for tomorrow (no, it won’t clear in time) out on the west side and may not be back in time to talk to her.

It’s sinking in that this shelter is a microcosm of society.

You have the “popular crowd” that bullies and demands compliance with their way. The gossip and backstabbing is from them.

Then we have the outcasts. Those who choose to not play by their rules.

Then the main rule makers who run the show overall. Kind of the government, in a way. Break their rules, you get a punishment. I do my best to abide by their rules. One of them is “no gossip.”

I’ve been everybody’s elses’ doormat for most of my life. Now that I’m standing up to the bullies, starting with defending the other one getting bullied, I feel the backlash. The “popular girls” are able to manipulate and convince some of the staff that I’m doing all these bad things, which I’m not.

Hence my email.

Gotta step around the intermediary people and go right to the person in charge.

I’m tired.

All I want is to save my storage unit and stuff that brings me peace and comfort, then deal with finances and get out of here. To not be homeless anymore.

Again, thank you to everyone who has helped. Sharing, donating, it all helps.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, eviction, food cravings, homeless, homelessness, job hunting, life, storage, urgent

6/25: Crowdfunding and all that…

Life is what it is at times. Since the post yesterday about all the stuff going on, more has bubbled to the surface. Gossip, bullying, ice cream, sabotage (didn’t work, so y’all can suck it!), more drama and gossip/bullying… you name it.

I know the concept of a women’s shelter is for personal safety and all, but man… anyone who thought putting 60 women under one roof was a good idea was not too bright. Or at least never had more than one woman/girl at any given time living in their lives.

I could delve into political stuff here, but not on this post. That topic will be its own post.

Right now, I’m stuck. I have a possible chance at moving into a shared “student housing” apartment building, but don’t have the funds yet. Hopefully I’ll get approved for disability, which will be a huge factor. But that won’t happen yet. So, yeah, I’m stuck. I’m struggling to get funds to save my storage from auction yet again. I know I’ll have some, but need to get at least half of 1300 so it can be pulled. I have $300 coming in from late last week, and some donations on FB, but not enough to get to the halfway point. Funds previously sent have gone to bills. As much as I’d have loved to set them aside for storage, there were other things more urgent. I’d be further along.

I’m also trying to find somewhere to stash some bins of things one friend was stashing for me but has threatened to get rid of at the end of the month if I don’t retrieve them. I need to either cram them into storage, if I’m able to get it paid up completely, or find somewhere else to stash them. At least until shit settles down.

So, applying for jobs I may have difficulty keeping one way or another. Looking at different housing options. Trust me, I’d love to have my own bathroom and kitchen, but sharing either with just one or two people is freaking paradise compared to sharing three toilets and four showers with 20 other women and a kitchen where my food gets pilfered regularly.

For now, focus on storage. Get it pulled from auction. That matters the most right now. Then housing and work and all the other things running around in my life.

Oh, and enjoying the look on the face of my ice cream thief when they find I salted it. I play dirty when I need to.

~A