ARGH!! (And not like the Pirates)

That’s right, I’m yelling and screaming. I’m hitting a really rough time at the moment, and the stress and anxiety are mounting. Chaos will be ensuing. And I do mean Chaos. Or just Randomness! Ok, I lied, it seems like I might cry to. I feel a tantrum coming on, and I don’t know why!

Yes, I’ve kind of seen this building over the past few days. Why? That part I am not completely sure why, but I do have things going on in my life. I cannot recall if I mentioned before, I quit my main source of income. Why? Panic attacks and flashbacks. I was in the same environment as of when the “event” happened. So there goes my income, thus the job interviews, 2 part time jobs that are bringing in next to nothing. Oh, plus they call me off a lot. Good times I tell you. So, I have no income really, job interviews that I never hear back from, bills not being paid with creditors wanting money. Oh what a world, what a world.

So here are my anxiety signs. Oh these are fun let me tell you. I’m more sarcastic, as in sarcasm is dripping and oozing from my lips. No one is safe around me. And I’m dramatic. Ok, overly dramatic. Alright, more so than usual. I mean it. Poor puppies got it taken out on them. In the middle of a walk today, the one decided she didn’t want to go home, so tried lagging behind and sitting on the road. I was irritated, threw her leash away from me, and said “Begone foul beast, I cannot stand thee.” Well after that, she trotted up to me and stayed with me. And just now she didn’t want to come in, and it seems Olde English works. “Come Hither thee foul Beast.” Who knew. Anyways…

Ok, so besides the sarcasm and the drama, I cannot sit still. Something is always twitching on me. Legs, arms, arse. It’s all twitchable. If you make one stop, the next one starts. No matter how hard I try. It even goes when I’m trying to sleep. My legs are just twi, twi, twitching up.  Speaking of sleep. Lord have mercy. I’m not sleeping. You know what it was like the other day for me. I didn’t sleep well, or much. It’s been that way the past few nights. Worse than normal actually. I’m use to the sleep being an issue, but now it’s either I’m so tired all day long and am ready to pass out, or I’m unable to sleep at all. Nightmares I tell you. Lots. But that’s for another time.  Another thing is right now, I’m on the verge of screaming and crying. No reason at all. It’s just there. I’m sitting here trying to play Guild Wars 2, and ready to cry because I’m so out of it. I’m afraid it will start and not stop.

Please! Stop the insanity. The stress. The anxiety. Make it stop! Fate! What did I ever do to you for you to have me bent over like this! Kiss it already and get it over with. I need to make something of this messy soup you put me in. And it’s not even a good soup. Could have at least put me in a yummy one.

COGNITIVE!

AHHHHH!

What? Blog of the Year Award?

So today as I was sitting waiting for an interview, my phone buzzes with an alert telling me that rarasaur has pinged me for blog of the year award. What? Silly people. What shall I do with that?

Apparently there are rules for this…

ACTUAL RULES

1 Select the blog(s) you think deserve the ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award

2 Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen – there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required – and ‘present’ them with their award.

3 Please include a link back to this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award – http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/   and include these ‘rules’ in your post (please don’t alter the rules or the badges!)

4 Let the blog(s) you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the ‘rules’ with them

5 You can now also join our Facebook group – click ‘like’ on this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award Facebook group and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience

6 As a winner of the award – please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award – and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar … and start collecting stars…

 

But I like these rules better….

 

Blog the Year (2012) Blogger Award Rules

  1. Display the award logo on your blog.  –>       (over there)
  2. Link back to the person who nominated you.  (check, check, check it out)
  3. State 5 things about yourself. (it’s below)
  4. Pass the award onto random other bloggers and link to one of their specific posts so that they get notified by ping back (that will come give it time)
  5. Link back to the Blog of the Year 2012 Rules page so people can read the real, complete, and fully accurate rules of this slightly-different blogger award   (Copy and paste are my friends)

Ok that is out of the way, now things about me.

  1.  I’m in a sarcastic and rather dramatic mood from being stressed.
  2. I’ve been randomly singing songs and fitting them into every conversation that I can.
  3. Star Wars, BSG, and Firefly is where it’s at. (Need I say more than that?!)
  4. Today I’ve found ways to insert cognitive into every conversation. Even if it’s just random yelling. Bazinga!
  5. I love you like a fat kid loves cake.

Alright and the nominations are….

  1. CombatBabe– Sarcasm. Just sarcasm that makes my day lovie!
  2. JumpForJoy – When I need a pick me up or a smile, seeing the photos here are my cure.
  3. ROS – Because I know how much he LOVES getting awards.
  4. Nhan-Fiction – Special messages and pick me ups all the time.

And this would be my farewell so I can get back to my regualr scheduled programming.

Last Night

I got a song for you! Want to hear it? Ok here it goes:

Oh what a Night

Late November back in 20 12

What a very god Awful time for me

As I try not to remember those nights.

Ok, so it’s not really a song, just my own lyrics to a Four Seasons song that is stuck in my head after the night I had. No, It wasn’t a fun type of night either. It was one of my nights full of panic and nightmares. And not just any nightmares might I add. I could handle normal nightmares, but going back through the bits I can remember of what happened to me. I wish I couldn’t remember those bits. Then maybe I could go back to having normal decapitated heads in the sink nightmares. I would prefer those honestly. Those are more fun.

So what’s it like to have these nightmares? Oh I’m so glad you asked and want to know what I go through. That is so kind.

I wake up in a panic from nightmares of me smelling him, seeing flashes of his face, feeling him on me.  I can hear him.  I wake up every time this happens. It’s not something I can turn on or off.  When I try to go back to sleep, I cannot. Last night I didn’t fall asleep until it was almost time to wake up. I felt like I was a child as I fell asleep holding my 80 pound dog like a stuffed animal, and a fleece blanket in the other hand. On top of all of that, I was curled up into the fetal position. Every time my eyes closed, I was panicking all over again.

This is when I feel even more violated. I cannot even escape and try to relax through sleep. I was violated, and now I can keep being violated even whilst I sleep. Sounds fun, doesn’t it? You’re wishing right now you could have this fun experience over and over again, aren’t you? I know you are. You just want to be as awesome as I am. I know it!

PTSD, it’s not a fun thing at all. I only use to think of it as something that happened to soldiers. Now, after going through what I went through, and meeting others, I know that it can happen to anyone, including victims of sexual assault.  I want to give all of those suffering from the same things as I am huge hugs. I want them to know I feel for them, I haven’t been through and seen what they have, but I know what it’s like going through and reliving everything over and over again. So I want to hug them, let them know I understand and I’m there for them. Sarcasm and all (who doesn’t have sarcasm as it is as natural as breathing) I am there for them and know what they’re going through.

Why are We Silent?

It’s as if it is taboo to speak, or even think about it. If it’s mentioned, it is as if it’s an urban myth. If it happens to you, and you try to tell others about it, either you are not believed, or you’re told that it is your fault. Sometimes, you’re even told that it is your imagination, or you have misinterpreted things.

Have you figured out what I am talking about yet? Oh, you need more hints? OK, let’s try this one.  You trusted someone that you’ve known for awhile. They’re suppose to be your friend, yet when you trusted them to take care of you the most, they stole from you. They took away the thing you valued the most from you.

Did you get it? Well if not, I’m telling you because it’s something I want to talk about. Sexual assault.  Rape.

Yes, as I said, something taboo. It’s a very hush hush, don’t talk about it subject, but here’s the thing, it should be talked about. We should be shouting about it at the top of our lungs, screaming about it where ever we go. Yes, we need to discuss this.

Most people seem to have a see no, hear no, speak no evil attitude about this subject. Here is what I think though. We need to be talking about this, sharing our stories, supporting one another.  Why? Because just as there are the silent killers of cancer, this is a silent killer as well. It eats away at you, tears you down, make you feel as if you are nothing, worse than nothing.  When no one believes you, no one wants to back you up or listen to you, it makes you feel as if you are wrong, that it never happened. When you keep feeling like this, it destroys you. Eats up from the inside out until you are nothing but a shell, and then barely even that. With this going on, it makes you feel like nothing. That is where you are wrong. I know I have been wrong. I have to keep telling myself that I am someone. That even if no one else cares about me, I do. I care about me. I’m important.

What I want to do, is talk about this subject as much as I can. Rape and Sexual Assault are real. They happen.  No matter what, you are not to blame. There are others that have been there. Tell others your experiences. Share what has happened. The more you talk about it, the better you will feel, you know it is real, that you didn’t make this up.  And the more you share, you never know the affect that you will have on others.  While helping yourself, you can help others too. I know that this is helping me.

I want to help you while I help myself. Tell others. Please.

One of these things is not like the others

Do you remember that game back from Sesame Street? I do. I loved it. Especially when they used the dogs, but it’s the game, not what was used that I am talking about. (So of course I am now singing and humming Sunny days are keeping the clouds away. I’m on my way to where the …. Ok I think it’s out if my system… Maybe. ) Anywho, there is a point, and it shall appear, just keep your pants on Skippy. The panties don’t need to be bunched up yet, that can happen later.
Remember the game though? You were shown a series of objects, usually 4, and told to pick out which was different from the others. There was a song that was played to, but I’m not recalling it at the moment. But that’s not important right now. Perchance later. So my point with this, is that I feel as if I’m the one that is different. Like my whole existence is to be picked out as different from everyone, whether or not I wanted to be.
Where does this come from? Just my imagination probably but it’s there. A picture I saw today made me think about it. It’s here on the post. Looks just like a picture from one of my ballet classes. Can you guess which one I would be? Bingo was his name-o! That’s right, the one using the barre as monkey bars. Hello? Who wouldn’t? Everything was a jungle gym to me growing up. Still is actually.
As I said, I feel as if my life is just a giant version of that game. Why? I usually stick out, even when I’m trying not to. Ok, I am usually trying not to, but I have quirks. We already know some if what has been going on in my life, this shaping me to who I am, and then there are just the inner workings of my mind and personality. As I said, I was the different child. I was and still am a tomboy, able to keep up with all the boys in the neighborhood. I am a geek, and it showed even as a child. My brother and I would have a blast playing superheroes. I was always marching to my own dub step, before dub stepping was even cool. That’s how unique I was. Part of that was robbed from me, that dirty bastard, I’ve not been as myself, but its getting there. My mind has and always will be different from yours, and that’s the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it. Ok, not always as it leads to being ostracized and the like, but I cannot change who I am. I was born that way baby and I’m here to stay.
Ok I think work is making me goofier than usual so I shall break here and go back to taking food orders.

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Butterflies

A friend told me today that I am like a butterfly. When I asked what was meant by that, I was told that it is my approach to life (or games). I go about in what looks like a chaotic approach to everything, but when you watch and focus, you notice that there is a pattern, a purpose.

I know that I do flit about randomly, or haphazardly, in things that I do, or the way I go about things.  I cannot help it. It’s just how I am.  My mind jumps around and it sees the logical way to proceed, even if you don’t.  It knows what I want, not you. So I go about things my way. My way makes things more interesting, but it’s formed from my experiences, and my thoughts from what I’ve been through. Guess what? It works. Not what you tell me, sure you can give advice, but if it goes against everything I know or feel, yeah I”ll be honest, I’m not going to listen. Got that? Ok, good.

Thinking on that though, I wish I had those wings when I was younger, to get away from things, but I have them now. I wanted them to get out of my dark hole and to find the sun. Each and every moment of my life in that dark rabbit hole (well the 1st set of them) was finding myself falling further and further away from the light and the sun, and further into that darkness, being swallowed by it. That’s when I needed my wings the most, to pull myself out of that.  To take me away from the hurt, pain, the emptiness, the sorrow. Instead, I had to fight and climb my way to the top, into the light. It was from that, the fighting and climbing, that I realized I had my wings all along, just didn’t know how to use them.

3 Doors Down had it right,

I’m over this
I’m tired of living in the dark
Can anyone see me down here
The feeling’s gone
There’s nothing left to lift me up
Back into the world I know

I don’t want to live in that world, in that darkness, but I did. I didn’t have the knowledge, or the strength to work my wings. I needed to learn how to do that, how to stretch them out and pull myself up out of this darkness that takes over. Amazing, what I wanted and needed the most, I had all of the time, but I didn’t know how to use it. I guess going through the evils in the world, into the darkest places around, and drown in sorrows and pain to learn how to use what was always there.

 

It’s down to this
I’ve got to make this life make sense
Can anyone tell what I’ve done
I miss the life
I miss the colours of the world
Can anyone tell where I am

‘Cause now again I’ve found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I’m so far down, away from the sun again
Away from the sun again

I’m over this
I’m tired of living in the dark
Can anyone see me down here
The feeling’s gone
There’s nothing left to lift me up
Back into the world I know

And now again I’ve found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I’m so far down, away from the sun
That shines to light the way for me
To find my way back into the arms
That care about the ones like me
I’m so far down, away from the sun again

It’s down to this
I’ve got to make this life make sense
And now I can’t tell what I’ve done

And now again I’ve found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines to light the way for me

‘Cause now again I’ve found myself
So far down, away from the sun
That shines into the darkest place
I’m so far down, away from the sun
That shines to light the way for me
To find my way back into the arms
That care about the ones like me
I’m so far down, away from the sun again

Oh no…
Yeah…
I’m gone…

 

3 Doors Down – Away From the Sun.

 

Isn’t it Funny…

Irony.

I find life is full of irony. Life is bittersweet. Oh Murphy, how you love me so. I cannot carrying on a relationship, but with you Murphy, oh with you, it’s a whole new world. You have opened my eyes and let me see how irony and you shall rule my life.

Isn’t it ironic that I am a person with social anxiety, and yet I work in jobs require me to interact with the public, serving, customer service, retail, and the like. What makes it even worse, is that since my vacuuming accident that left me with a concussion, things got even more interesting. Before the accident, I could bite my tongue and know when to speak and not speak my mind, since, not at all. You never know what I will say or when I will say it. The doctor said that where I hit my head, is the area that controls your inhibitions. He said it’s like I’m drunk, I do not have complete control over my actions. Of course my response was that I can now drink as much as I want.  Didn’t mean to say it, but I did. I just got an eye roll. I’ve also refused to place a guy’s order because he ordered a lite beer and a salad on a UFC Fight night. Also said he was a few types of names, and yet did he yell? Not at all, he changed his order. Hmm.

I’ve always prided myself on my memory. It’s not eidetic memory, but for what I want it for, it is. Since my vacuuming accident, it’s not as great as it was. It’s now been stolen. The one thing I rely on the most, I cannot find it. I don’t need my sanity, that’s never been there in my eccentric tea party world inside of my rabbit holes. My memory is what gets me through though. Thus, since I rely upon it, Murphy played his devilish hand and took it. That rascal.

Oh Mr. Murphy, that is not the only thing he took from me. I have certain things I do to keep myself calm when my depression explodes into darkness. Art. Yes, art is missing when I’m trying to climb from the darkness. When I look for art to calm me and bring me peace, I see nothing. It’s gone and missing.  I do have a reward out for it, and once I remember what it is I will tell you.

Oh Alanis, you knew what you were talking about. It’s that fly in my wine, rain on my wedding day, and that stupid traffic as I was running late. Life is ironic, and Mr. Murphy, can I unfriend you?