Posted in dreams, family, grief, insomnia, life, music, observations, writing

Dammit, Brain!

(Ignore the fact I chose a pic of Portia, it’s 3:40am now…)

Dammit, Brain, it’s 3am. And you decide to dream about a random chance to meet Marilyn Manson. You aren’t even a fan. Stop doing random shit Brain and go back to sleep like you should.

So, because I can’t get back to sleep, I decided to look up Marilyn Manson and see why he comes up. Read part of a rather odd interview. And below is what I found.

Now I think I may understand why my brain did what it did. I read an article on MM. He lost his mother and then his father, whom he was really close to. And in the dream, we take a pic and then I mention that I’m just here by happenstance. He said he felt the need to come over, even though I wasn’t seeking him out. I briefly mention losing both parents and then being homeless, but bouncing back. And he gives me a hug.

There’s a common thread in our real lives. Both of us are “adult orphans” … and after his dad died, he knew his dad wouldn’t let him take time to grieve as he was super supportive and a fighter. When my dad died, I was in the middlenof NaNoWriMo and, despite everyone saying it would be okay if I didn’t do it that year (2014), I knew he wouldn’t want me to stop writing. So I didn’t.

Something about that… I didn’t know that about MM until I just looked it up. Subconscious is trying to say something…

~A

Advertisements
Posted in dreams, family, grief, insomnia, life, music, observations, writing

Dammit, Brain!

(Ignore the fact I chose a pic of Portia, it’s 3:40am now…)

Dammit, Brain, it’s 3am. And you decide to dream about a random chance to meet Marilyn Manson. You aren’t even a fan. Stop doing random shit Brain and go back to sleep like you should.

So, because I can’t get back to sleep, I decided to look up Marilyn Manson and see why he comes up. Read part of a rather odd interview. And below is what I found.

Now I think I may understand why my brain did what it did. I read an article on MM. He lost his mother and then his father, whom he was really close to. And in the dream, we take a pic and then I mention that I’m just here by happenstance. He said he felt the need to come over, even though I wasn’t seeking him out. I briefly mention losing both parents and then being homeless, but bouncing back. And he gives me a hug.

There’s a common thread in our real lives. Both of us are “adult orphans” … and after his dad died, he knew his dad wouldn’t let him take time to grieve as he was super supportive and a fighter. When my dad died, I was in the middlenof NaNoWriMo and, despite everyone saying it would be okay if I didn’t do it that year (2014), I knew he wouldn’t want me to stop writing. So I didn’t.

Something about that… I didn’t know that about MM until I just looked it up. Subconscious is trying to say something…

~A

Posted in anxiety, community, depression, empath life, life, music, observations

4/27/18: Music Within

In my therapy session this week, music became the focal point. I’ve written on this in the past, but she asked a question I can’t seem to answer: what is at the core of my love of music? What makes it such a strong relationship/connection?

I’ve been thinking on it and I still can’t answer. It’s always been prominent in my life.

  • Being 4 and figuring out the melody of the Star Spangled Banner by myself, from looking at the black dots on the page of music and from memory of hearing it that 4th of July.
  • Learning to play the piano properly at 6.
  • Listening to folk revival from 4 and 5.
  • Having suicidal ideations nearly every day as a teen and music being the only thing to pull me back from the edge.
  • Singing it, dancing to it, playing it. Listening to it.

It has kept me centered and grounded and any other term you can think of. My whole life.

The rhythms of world music, lyrics of various English-sung songs resonating with me emotionally and otherwise.

Music is the true universal language. No matter what language is being sung, you can understand the emotion of the song. You can hear the stories being told, the love being professed, the sadness being mourned. All of it.

For me, I feel it in my heart, my bones, my body. I think in part it’s because music pulled me back from suicide, I owe my life to it. It is part of me, part of who I am, what I am.

While I’m no longer playing or singing publicly, I still want to get back to playing. Hence having the piano, even though it’s in storage. I can’t have it here at the shelter. I want to be involved with it in some way. I listen to nearly all kinds of music out there and love all but two genres.

I don’t know the answers to her questions. I may never know.

I just know that music is part of my life.

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, chronic pain, cluster headaches, community, crowdfunding, depression, disability, emergency, friends, health, homeless, homelessness, life, medical, music, Personal, poverty line, storage, urgent

4/21/18: Clusterfuckery & Shelter Life

Random cluster(fuck) headache ranting/grumbling… ignore if you don’t want to read my grouchiness.

CLUSTERFUCKERY:

I’ve had a low-grade cluster headache going about a week now. For those unfamiliar with them, no drugs can really touch them, the medical field has no clue what exactly causes them, and they’re a bitch to get rid of. Where caffeine helps tension and migraine headaches, it does nothing for clusters.

What may be the reason doctors can’t pinpoint the cause is that it may be different for each patient. I know I get them after (usually) every other monthly cycle. But I’m on Depo-Provera (birth control, if you didn’t know) to keep my hormones balanced. So the main times they show up now is when I’m about due for my next shot, which will be in a couple weeks. The only thing that knocks them down to OTC med care level is oxygen therapy. Medicaid won’t cover a small tank for me, so I have to call the clinic and give them a heads up that I need the therapy. They put me in an exam room, wheel in a tank, hook me up, turn off the lights and return 15-20 minutes later. This brings the pain level down to about a 2 on the scale of 1-10, so then I can take an Aleve and that gets the rest of it. I’ve been between a 5 and a 7 on the scale for days now and just dealing with it. Mostly ignoring it.

I can’t anymore.

But I may wait until Monday as the clinic has short hours on Saturdays and is closed Sundays. I’d kill for a proper eye patch right now. It hits my right side and my right eye is rather unhappy. But a good eye patch isn’t easy to find. So, I just avoid bright light as much as possible for now.

SHELTER LIFE:

This is mostly me whining about shit. I have always been hyersensitive to strong scents. Can’t handle the smell of bleach (makes me sick), as well as most perfumes/colognes/body washes or sprays.

So… this morning…

Someone is singing in the shower… badly. Also using Ivory soap or something with a similar strong scent. Blargh. It’s a lot like with perfumes, strong scents from anything man-made freaking fuck with my allergies.

I also can’t use Tide as we discovered an allergy to it when I was in high school. Mom used Tide almost religiously. At one point, she washed a new pair of my nylons for choir and when I put them on, my legs broke out in a rash/contact dermatitis. From that point on, until I moved out, she had to buy unscented, no-dyes detergent. I’ve stuck to that myself as well. And of course, what do they hand out to the ladies here for detergent? Tide Pods. I use my own stuff.
Okay, it’s been 30 minutes since I closed my door and I can still smell her soap. I need a door thingy that is mostly for keeping drafts out, but i need one for my door for scents. I also wanna fix the seal stuff around the rest of my door. I can see light from the hall coming through when I have the lights out.

One thing with being in a homeless shelter: watch your shit. On our less-populated floor we’ve had money, clothes, a tablet, and other things get stolen. Only one of those things was returned and the thief booted and banned.

I keep my door locked all the time. But someone used some of my lactose free milk from the fridge (there are two resident fridges and we have to label our stuff. Also one house fridge in the laundry room).

My food stamps are done for the month and have nothing to get more milk, bottled water (the tap water tastes and smells musty/moldy. the pipes need replacing), veggies, etc. Also no cash.

I’m down to about $1 on my PP card/account (I have a debit card from PayPal) and I’m pretty sure my checking account is back in the red from an auto payment for a debt collector. I have one task set up for the 30th. That’s my only income right now. I may get more, but no way of knowing. I can’t plan them. It all depends on clients hiring me via the TR site/app.

I am going to one job fair on Tuesday and an informational interview on Monday. New VR job coach, new ideas.

It’s been a rough week. Transportation miscommunication and snafus along with a severe pain flare up from my back and the cluster headache… and general lack of sleep and the hell it causes. Doc has ordered a referral and sleep study. Had one years ago while on different insurance. They wouldn’t cover anA-PAP machine. I might be able to get one now, but need to do a new study.

I may put a few non-perishable things I mentioned above on my Amazon wishlist. I need to link Portia’s wishlist on here as well. Yes, my cat has her own wishlist. Shush.

More to come later…

And yes, still want to cover the rest of what I need to catch up on storage. Just under $600 left before the end of the month.

~A

Posted in animal welfare, anxiety, C-PTSD, cats, chronic pain, crowdfunding, depression, disability, dogs, emergency, friends, health, homeless, housing, life, music, poverty line, PTSD, storage, transitions, urgent

3/20/18: #crowdfunding, adjusting, and some bad juju

I received one donation today… to that person, many thank yous. Still have a long way to go. I want to get storage covered and caught up by the end of the month. Auction is 4/12, but once April 1st rolls around, another months rent gets tacked on, so the total goes to about 1400 or so (taking into consideration late fees and all that stuff).

I’ve spent the day adjusting to the new space here at the shelter. While my room is a bit larger than most on this floor, my next door neighbor, who also has a kitty (she’s 6 and a beauty), mentioned that some bad juju has happened in this room and that may be partly why Portia is uneasy. I need to cleanse the fuck out of this room… without setting the smoke alarm off. I’d love to smudge it, but my smudge stick is “somewhere” and I can’t really go get another one. Same applies for my salt bowl and candles. I can’t risk setting off the alarm. Ideas would be great.

Twin size bed, as opposed to the single width rollaway I’ve been sleeping on for a year. Those, for people who haven’t heard of that size, are about 2 feet wide, where a Twin size mattress is about a foot wider.

Portia is still mostly hiding. Partly from being in a new place, partly from all the noise (doggos in the hall being noisy doggos), and likely some from the bad air/juju in this room. We have a dresser, small closet (litter boxes are in the bottom of that and fit perfectly), and a two tier plastic shelving thing. And a chair.

The Wi-Fi isn’t ideal, at least in the rooms, but I don’t expect super fast anything. Well, I’m gonna go sneak in a shower and then relax the rest of the evening… it’s been a long and somewhat stressful day.

As I was typing this and an FB post up, Portia came out of hiding and is now purring on the bed next to me. She’s still uneasy, but getting there. I’ve discovered having classical music playing kinda low helps buffer the noise from outside the door.

And more tomorrow! I start physical therapy (again) tomorrow afternoon. Maybe a poem tonight, if I get inspired.

~A

Posted in birthdays, chronic pain, depression, disability, family, friends, grief, health, life, medical, music, Personal, Science Fiction and Fantasy, society, writing

11/27: Dad, #NaNoWriMo, and Life

So, today is my dad’s birthday. If he had lived, he’d be 91. I had all these ideas for honoring him today, things I was going to do on the anniversary of his passing, but then decided to do them today. Namely, I was going to go to Ace Hardware and the music store to get some sheet music. Those things primarily because going to Ace was a tradition when I was a kid. I followed my dad everywhere. Especially when working on the house and getting supplies for working on it.

The music store because he was so excited when I said I wanted to save up for a piano. He really wanted me to get back to my music. He died before he saw me get my piano, but getting some sheet music would be fitting.

But coming out of Safeway, my knee gave out and is still hurting an hour or so later, so I need to do as little walking as possible the rest of the day. I figure the honoring will be in doing the two tasks I have that are finishing items the clients couldn’t do. And writing. No matter what we talked about, he always asked about my writing. If I had stalled, he always told me to never give up, to never stop writing because I was too good at it.

This year, for NaNoWriMo, I’m struggling. Maybe it’s from the stress of my current life situation, but it’s been difficult. I can still do it, but it’s going to take a lot of work the next few days. Right now, I’m sitting in a Starbucks downtown with a couple more hours to kill before I head to my other task today. Oh, and a knee that’s swearing at me for existing. I need a gym membership but can’t afford it. I know there isn’t much they can do for my knee. I need to strengthen my leg muscles, especially my thighs where the muscles/tendons connect to my kneecaps.

But enough medical/health crap…

Back to writing and general stuff…

~A

Posted in bugaboos, community, creativity, crowdfunding, dragon, emergency, eviction, friends, genealogy, grad school, history, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, music, Personal, research, storage, urgent, writing

9/6: No Soul-Sucking Allowed, Dammit (but #crowdfunding is)

I started this on Facebook, but opted to bring it over here. And yes, still #crowdfunding to get funds to save storage. 

This is only slightly tongue-in-cheek. Slightly.

My ideal work environment: not dealing with random humans. The occasional co-worker might be okay. I’m currently feeling a smidge Dragonish (i.e. anti-social), so occasional contact is okay.

And no cubicle farms. No/few phones. Email is preferred. I don’t stumble over my words as much. Also my foot doesn’t end up in my mouth as much. 

And not soul-sucking work. I’d like to keep my soul intact for a few more years. At least until I turn 50. Five more years is all I ask.

Let me enter data, do creative-ish things like websites or social media, have a variety of tasks/projects. Research. Gimme things to research. I lurv research. Just not medical, as they want bio degrees. I don’t have one of those. Research and write things. 

Pays well enough for me to move into a market rate studio close-in and cram the rest of my stuff into a smaller storage unit again. Also be able to pay for storage, utilities, Netflix and Hulu again, and eat without needing food stamps. Oh, and put money into savings and pay off a few bills.

*   *   *   *   *   *

Yeah… that shit would take a fucking miracle. I’m screwed.

~Dragon 

(Below is what I need to not lose my storage. Before the 15th)

Posted in faith, family, friends, grief, life, music, Personal, semicolon

7/27: The Dance

“I could have missed the pain… but I’d’ve had to miss the dance.” ~Garth Brooks’ The Dance.

Sums up so much. I always felt the song was more than just about a romance. And I was right. I see it right now as a good summation of my life to this point. We live our lives not knowing where it will take us.

We experience joy.

We experience pain.

We lose people we love… and people we wish we could talk to one last time. We get caught up in existing. Then, one day, we find regret. I’ve always sworn I wouldn’t regret what I’ve done in my life (only a few of the people I’ve done those things with). But as I inch ever closer to my 45th birthday, I do see some regrets. One biggie is not dropping everything in the world to see my dad sooner… before he died the day after I last talked to him. I was so damn caught up in helping at a local convention and then, as I was sitting there, enjoying an evening with friends, my dad passed away 600 miles away. I should have gone down there sooner.

But I live with that regret.

The lesson from that is to never, ever take anything for granted. Not a single person in your life. Not a moment to stop and admire the clouds in the sky… the green of the leaves on a tree… a flower blooming early. Stop what you’re doing, take a step back. Look around you.

Funny how Brooks’ song comes back around (via an article and video where a cancer survivor went to his concert) into my life. I got into listening to country music in the 90’s. I remember listening to this song back then. Oh, how life gives new perspective on a song you loved in your youth.

I don’t regret my experiences. I don’t regret the pain. That pain taught me to appreciate my life… good and bad. To take each day and live.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, cats, community, crowdfunding, depression, eviction, friends, homeless, job hunting, life, music, Personal, poverty line, storage, transitions, urgent

7/24: Being Shameless Again

Storage, urgh. Life in general, urgh.

Still struggling with just over $100 left for this month’s storage rent. I am resisting begging, but if people wanted to throw money my way in the next couple of days, I wouldn’t turn it down… PP is the only (and preferred) method. You don’t need a PP account, just a credit/debit card. I’m switching back to a Biz Acct with them to hide my legal name… I have my reasons (cyberstalking asshole ex-boyfriend who is the cause of my C-PTSD). So if you wish to help, this will be the method. There should be a PP button over there shortly.

On to “Life in General”¬†

I’ve now been homeless for almost 5 months. It feels like an eternity. Trying to keep my belongings safe in storage. Living “in between” where I don’t have things like a full normal refrigerator to myself, living by others’ rules (and a few quirks, but I don’t delve into that), and not really having a “home” where I can be completely myself… walking around and even cooking in my underwear (seriously), dancing and listening to music loud enough to drown out the world (but not so loud to piss others off), where I can have my piano out, put the toilet lid down…. generally be ME. Live by my own rules.

The transitional aspect of my life right now is frustrating. When my own bank technically doesn’t accept PO Boxes as home addresses, but it’s technically ALL I have of my own. When I’m sleeping on a rollaway bed that’s likely almost as old as I am, and there’s really no room for the cat, unless I curl up on my side and she gets the foot of the bed.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m grateful to the friends who’ve let me stay here this long (most of the time since handing in the keys March 2nd). I don’t really have anywhere else to go.

Living in a constant state of instability.

I’m grateful I’m not out on the street. I just really need to get my own place again. Soon.

~A

 

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, community, depression, eviction, friends, homeless, music, Personal, silliness

6/11: Sunday Evening Rambling

This may end up one subject or multiple subjects… depending on my train of thought. As I’ve said in the past, I rarely edit blog posts…


I’m a solitary person. I’ve had roommates, etc. Some okay, some… well… I won’t air dirty laundry such as that on here. Just be safe in the knowledge that I’ve had a few “roommates from hell” in my life.

While I’m eternally grateful to those who have helped me and those who’ve taken me in during this period in my life, I am the kind of person who is not inherently social. I need to shut the door and shut out a lot of negative stuff… even if people don’t think it’s negative… the core emotion/vibe under anything exciting, happy, nervous, etc is tense and anxiety attack producing for me.

I have no interest in living with others on a long-term basis. I need my own place where I control my environment. My kitchen, my bathroom, my living space, my rules.

I just need a good job to get me there. The sooner the better.


Music of most genres have helped me survive so much in my life. This is why I’m sharing my little playlist on YT. There are other things on that playlist, such as Robin Williams and clips from movies and shows, but the hint of variety there may give you an idea of me and what speaks to my soul as a music lover and musician.

My ever changing YouTube playlist 

I want to write more on this, but I can’t seem to find the words right now.


I think that’s all I can do right now… more later…