Acceptance and Blessings

So it has been a while. Things have definitely been busy and crazy, but despite the hardships, I feel blessed.

I’ve met the most amazing and caring person. Not to mention incredibly sexy. (He says no, but I disagree. Though when he says the same to me, I say no as well.)  He’s helped me by just being who he is. He knows who he is and is comfortable with who he has become. He accepts me for who I am, this includes my past. He embraces it, stating it has created me into who I am now, and that is who he loves.

Knowing this, and feeling this love and acceptance, I’ve been able to heal. It’s more of a total healing. I’ve been able to accept myself.  I know, who would have thought this would happen. I never did, but it’s amazing. I really am healing. I am finding my true self, and accepting who I am. When I say accepting, I mean it not in a “Oh that’s just who I am type of way, and it won’t change”, no not that, I’m realizing who I am, what makes me, and embracing it.

That’s right. Embracing who I am and what makes me who I am.

I’m also learning to trust. After everything I have gone through, I’m learning trust, something I thought was gone and would never come back. I won’t lie and say it is easy, because it’s not. Not a chance in the world of that being easy. It’s a constant battle. It’s so engrained into me to be negative and to feel that nothing will work out, but I’m learning to trust. My boyfriend is the best thing to happen to me and helping me with trust. I’m experiencing reasons to trust, and then having these feelings reinforced. I’m not going to say I have this down, and I know what I’m doing. I need reminders. I need help.  But here’s the point, I’m learning and building. I have a reason to trust. Everyone else in my life has shown me that trust is something that cannot be had, now, I know differently.

Kind of nice isn’t it?

Oh… I’ve changed a bit.  There are some pink chunks to my hair, and I now have my symbol on my wrists. My sparrows are with  me where I can see them always. My strength. They’re there whenever I need a reminder. I’m here, and I’m standing stronger. Little by little.


A little pink...

A little pink…

My strength, my reminders, my symbols.

My strength, my reminders, my symbols.

My ups and downs with depression

So I’ve decided to have some guest bloggers lately. From having my stories of Mummy and Klaus on Twindaddy‘s blog, I thought it was most fitting that he be my first guest blogger.  He’s not the only one. AliceAtWonderland will be joining us too! Did you want to share anything? Just send me an email  (, and let me know.


Hello. My name is Twindaddy.  Some of you may already know me.  Some of you may not.  Some of you may wish you did.  Most of you will not.


This is me. I used to be meaner, but now I’m medicated.

Anyhow, Alice threatened to have the white rabbit stalk me  asked me to guest post here, but didn’t really give me much to work with in the way of a topic, so I decided to talk about depression since that’s the theme of her blog.  Or it originally was, at least.  I thought maybe it might help her in some way to share my story with her.  At least, that is my hope.  Some of this she already knows, some of it she may not.

Here goes… Continue reading

Alles, Alles auch so ein frei! (or Ollie Ollie oxen free)

I’m trying something to do. I’m trying my hand at being the old me. The me I was before. The one I’m missing. That person. Can I be her? Do I still have it in me? Maybe not, but I can try, at least for a day. Pretend nothing happened (yes, I know you shouldn’t but I don’t have it in me to remember today. I’m tired, I don’t feel great and my voice is nonexistent at the moment, so just go with it.)

So how am I trying to get back to being the old me? I’m at least dressing the part. Ok, the part that I miss. I don’t feel great so my usual clothes are my over-sized sweatpants (hello, they’re the most comfortable things in the world, besides the super fuzzy soft robe I have) and I found my CLASH t shirt. It’s my favorite. It was given by an ex that I’ve come to terms with and still think fondly of. It’s the best t-shirt though. It’s in Japanese. So it’s not a typical Clash shirt. Says The Clash, has a skull and cross bones on it, and then says something in Japanese, which I assume is probably the tour there at some point, but doesn’t bother me. It’s my most well worn shirt, has the faded black wanna be grey look, the fuzzies of being worn and washed often, but that soft feel. I don’t know why, but I feel powerful in that shirt. It’s my ME shirt. Something about it screams “This is who I am, deal with it.”

Not mine, but I found a pic through google. Mine is much more worn.

Not mine, but I found a pic through Google. Mine is much more worn.


I want that person back. Come out, come out, where ever you are.

I’m hoping that with the new therapy/counseling, that I will be able to become me again. Yes, I am me now, but I mean the other me. The me that was a bit more carefree, slightly manic and wacky, could give a flying frak if people said something to bring her down, tune out the world and be so focused and lost in projects that sleeping became a bit forgotten. She was a person that laughed a lot more, took more joy, had a happier outlook on life. Didn’t depend on her sidekick as to how she would be. Just let the sidekick tag along with threats of pain if they became too loud. That’s who I’m looking for.

Maybe the shirt will rub off on me and she will make an appearance for a little bit at least.

Ramblings and Mondays

Monday Communications

Monday Communications

Looks like somebody has a case of the Monday’s.

Alas it is Monday. Never a favorite one for me. Ok, who really says that Mondays are their favorite day? It seems that Mondays bring out all of the weird ones. Why can they not wait until later in the week to call, or spread it out over the week? What do they do though? They all call as soon as they can on Mondays. To survive, that is what Mondays are for. I gave myself a high-five for surviving!

What a time of things. I think.

I’ve been having my daily ups and downs, but not as bad. It’s more every few days. Bonus!  I prefer to try and stay more level. Less irrational. Wait, that wouldn’t be me if I was less irrational. I need to stay me. I’m trying to at least. Think sarcastic thoughts! (After all, they are my happy thoughts.)

Sadly from this insanely cold freezing spell we’ve gone through here, I seem to have gotten an upper respiratory infection. I’m hoping that it might not be true though. I’m taking the precautions though. Herbal supplements for colds and flues, as well as some for supporting the upper respiratory system.  No harm no foul. Or as I taught my nephew, no blood no foul. (Ok, that one may not really apply, but I still get giggles over a 3.5 year old running around chanting no blood, no foul.)

So yes, I’m sick. Kind of. But I refuse to admit defeat. I have my narcotic cough medicine (thankfully no upcoming drug tests for a little bit) and my germ defenders! (ok, so that’s just really my sarcastic thoughts, aka, happy thoughts). There are things to make me smile though.

So I told you about how I am trying to get the birds to whistle the Emperors March. They’re not doing it yet, but we’re making progress. Whilst whispering the Emperors March, the one will now jump onto my hand. He is also bobbing his head up and down and starts talking to me. Mwahaha, another one is joining the darkside, and to think, I didn’t have to give out any of my cookies for that one.

Another smile is being brought to my face in the form of therapy! Yes, therapy. It’s more of the counseling kind.  I’ve seen a therapist/counselor on and off at the rape center, but they’re finally going to put me into the therapy treatment for the rape/PTSD.  I will be able to move on and live soon. Maybe even feel like dating again. But let’s hold on that for now. Why? Because I’m focusing on something, on putting the past where it belongs. Hello! Don’t want to be so mixed up I don’t know what to do, the next thing you turn around and find that the person is you. Can’t be having that now can we? One step at a time, after all, step by step, Oh baby, day by day… Wait, now that’s 2 different ones. SIGH.

Time heals everything. Whether it’s taking the time to slowly let my heart and mind heal from the breaking and shattering it went through, or the mending of time to move on, put things into their proper places. Here is a goal. Smile. Try to find something to smile about each and every day. Only once, that’s a goal. Once a day smile. I think I can do that. After all, i have 5 zany knuckleheads running around with either 4 paws or some wings that make me giggle in one way or another.

Time Heals

It Gets Better- FUN


I feel like singing.

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me, and I’m feeling good.

I was just humming that, though of course it was the Muse version because I was listening to Imagine Dragons, then the Lumineers,  to the Script, and that logically leads to Muse. But this is sort of fitting. No, it’s not a new life for me, but it is a newer start. And right on time with the new year coming shortly. In with the new out with the more depressed.

This week I started a new job. I’m away from the biggest cause (in my mind) of triggers. So fresh start there. I do have to dress differently than usual (i.e. no jeans and geekdom tshirts). I’m sporting the retro 50’s style which I mix rockabilly and pin up. It’s working thus far, but it’s only been 2 days. Though I need to add new shoes, I want my comic book pumps.

So I’m separating myself from my past, and trying to move on. I am on a steady schedule now for work. My routine is coming back. Routines keep me happy as I know what to expect. It gives me stability, as well as a comfort zone. It’s me. I need it. It works for me. I get to start on a steady visit now with my new counselor. We can work with the event and my PTSD and try to overcome everything. No, there is no try, either do or do not. (Thanks Yoda, I needed that reminder). I will get past this. (It’s my new little chant I have going on, like the little engine that could.)

Oh 2013, you could be good for me, granted that I do not have to put into plan the Anti-Zombie plan. Fingers crossed.

What it’s like for me

Anger.  Frustration.  Sadness.  Lost.  Loneliness.  Misery.  High.  Low.  Darkness.  Helpless.  Isolated.  Anxious.  Happy.  Hyper.  Sleepy.  Wide Awake.  Unable to sit still.  Inability to concentrate.  Able to accomplish everything.  Planner of all.  Super Woman. The Villain.


What are those?  Those would be my feelings with depression. It is how I would describe how I feel, well most of the time. Other times I cannot tell what I feel, they’re indescribable. Not everyone feels feels the same things. Each person is different, thus why they’re mine. Some people are in solid blackness, others are in highs and lows so quick that they’ve been in and out of them before you blink. For myself, I can go from high to low with no in between, but not in a manic sort of way. Something triggers me, and then I’m there.

What are some triggers? Feeling as if I have lost someone. Too much emotional trauma (this one is hard to explain, but it’s more of when I have shut off my emotions so I can keep going, and they all suddenly come crashing back down onto me, and that means an overload).  Flashbacks from my “event”.  Bullying (whether it’s from family, so-called friends, employers, or fellow employees).  People always telling me that my depression is in my head, it’s made up, or that I should just get over it.  If it is grey and/or raining for too many days in a row. These are only a few, but they’re the main ones, at least to/for me.

Each person is different and unique. Just as we are all individuals, so are the depressions and mental problems we all deal with. They’re as unique as we are. They come and go as they please. They act in the manners that they see fit. None are cookie cutter versions of the others. (Why do people say cookie cutter copies anyways? Have you ever noticed that no 2 cookies are exactly alike?) Ok, a better phrase, carbon copies. Yes, no one person’s depression is like anothers. They’re not carbon copies, so they shouldn’t be treated as if they are. They affect their hosts differently and so each symbiont shall be treated as the individuals that they are. (Ok, why do I call it a symbiont? Because while it might seem that it could be more parasitic, if managed, I feel that we benefit from each other, not deter or destroy the other.)

What plan of action do I use to help my symbiont? That’s easy. I am a good host and use different methods. I have therapy for the depression, and counseling for my “event”.  Then I have medications to take as well, thus making sure that the depression does not take over, and that it only lives with me, but not for me. I also “self medicate” by finding things I like to do, and then (here’s the kicker) doing them.  Not punking out and taking the easy way and telling myself I’ll do them, but to actually doing them.  Also, despite my insecurity and not being as big on people, I try to do something sociable once every 2 weeks. That’s a big goal for me because I really “enjoy” (because I don’t think anyone really does) being by myself.  And I try to find something each day to make me smile, or get it to stretch to a grin.

How does depression affect you? What does it feel like? What do you do to help yourself and your symbiont?

These are a few

Of My Favorite Things!

Ok so the song was in my head for some random reason that I have yet to come across, but then that’s how most of my mind is. I pity the person that tries to understand, or make sense of it because it’s a giant maze of puzzles. Anyways, that song had me thinking, I need to spend a few moments being positive. That moment is now and I chose to spend that moment talking about what has made me happy in the past few days. Something to think of other than what’s been pulling me into this black hole of depression. So let’s get going!

Tea Time!

Tea.  My happy relaxer. I love teas, but mainly black teas. Irish and English Breakfast, Black Dragon, and even other random ones. So when I feel I’m beyond anxious, or like the past week, a headache/migraine that won’t go away, I pull out my caffeine molecule mug, my Death Star Tea Infuser and let the brewing start. Something about it is the best feeling to come over me, you can almost feel the worst part of the day or moment falling away.

Music. I love music. And I always end up finding songs that fit whatever I am feeling or seem to be going through at the moment. (Multiple pieces of evidence in previous posts.) Today I heard Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine. It was what I was starting to feel as I decided to start this post. How could you not agree with this?

                                                   ” Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with her drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink “


“Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that”

How could you not relate to that? Yes, I have not been feeling happy, still not there, but today I made my tea, sat down and had a sip, and was like “Wow. Everything feels a little better now.” And then the song started, and it all just fit together. I grinned. Can you believe it!? I actually grinned today, and it was forced or faked for a customer. Where did that come from?

Art. Art lets me be myself without anyone telling I cannot be who I am. Granted I have not had as much time to devote to my art work as I want lately, but guess what? It still relaxes me. I get itches I cannot scratch unless I can put ideas down on paper. When I start on a sketch or drawing I can lose myself. I can go into my own rabbit hole of creativity and let loose and be who I am and express myself and not have a worry in the world, except if my pencil broke, or I cannot find my eraser. That always annoys me. Means I have to stop and grumble to myself until I find it.

My pets. Yes, they make me feel so much better. I wrote about the one, my hero. He is the sweetest of the animals, but the other 2 are close behind him. I have a chinchilla named Finneghan, yes, he is from South America and has an Irish name, but Finn fits him. So much personality. Again a rescue animal with quirks. One, he is blind in one eye, but doesn’t let him slow down at all. High strung and energy for days. He gets his freedom each night to run around, and he chooses to spend that time with the black dog. They get along swimmingly. The lone ranger of that group is the other dog. Independent beyond your imagination and the jealous attention hog, but sweet when she wants to be. No matter how I’m feeling, they can make me feel calmer and feel like the weight of the world is gone for those few moments of playing with them, or telling them about my day, both the highs and lows, and sometimes I’ll reread what I’m posting to them to see if they agree. Ok, sometimes it seems like they do, DON’T JUDGE! They’re semi good critics. They let me know if they do not agree. (BTW, in case you are wondering, I got 2 tail wags, and one piece of food flung at me, Finn disagrees.)

Books! How can one not feel good with a book. By far my two favorite books lately have been (besides Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass because they’re always number one.) are Ready Player One by Ernest Cline (Highly recommend for anyone that plays video games, knows the 80’s, and is into science fiction.) and the second one is Princess Bride (because hello, the books are always better than the movies, it’s true, I have a shirt that says so, also I think I read it on the internet and we all know that it must be true then.) Seriously though, everytime I open a book, or fire up the Kindle, I’m taken to another land, meet new people, see new problems, or find new ways to look at things. It’s the best. It makes me forget about my problems, or shows me a way to deal with my problems.

Ok, one more guys, then I’ll have to let you relax for a little, and tell me what your favorite things are, especially for trying to make yourself feel better.

Walking. You’d never think of it, but it is. I will see it as a chore until I do it. Once I do go for a walk, I see how happy the dogs are, and then I feel better.  Again, a calmness comes over me. You never realize it, but it does something to a person that just makes you feel good and feel alive. It’s just a happiness that doesn’t really have a reason to exist, but lets you feel free. It just does.

So what makes you happy? Or calm? What are your favorite things?

Self discovery, it’s a long bumpy road to recovery.

Moving Forward. Something that I’ve been trying to do for a while now. And I’ll admit, it takes a lot to convince me that I need to do that. To put the past behind me. To try and realize that it has been holding me back. Yes I have depression, and I’ve had things happen to me that have also held me back, but here is something that I am only just starting to realize; depression doesn’t define me, it’s just part of what makes me up, as well as the past incidents. They happened, they ruled me and directed me up until now. Why until now?  That one is easy.  I let them.

How can one let something rule them, or direct them? Simple. Fear. Yes, fear. I was and sometimes, ok most of the times still, in fear of change. Afraid of the stigma that people attach to those that have depression, and to those that have been sexually assaulted. It’s almost as if you have a stench that everyone wants to stand downwind from you, or ostracize you. Why would I want to put it out there of what I have been through, or what affects me everyday, to have people treat me as if I’m a carrier of the Black Plague. No thank you. So because of that, I kept everything to myself. What happened to me, how I felt, what the aftermath of going through everything was doing to me. I never let anyone know. And I even kept it away from myself. Amazing what some determination can do. You can completely cut yourself off from feeling anything.

I’ve decided though that I do not want fear to rule me. I don’t want what I’ve gone through to define who I am, just that it’s part of the reason for the path that I am on. No, I’m not contradicting myself, far from it. I’m trying to figure out who I am. I sit down at least once a day and try to self examine, and no not that kind of examining ( you bunch of pervs 😛 ), but a mental one. After a couple of months of trying to figure out where I am in life, what I am all about, who I am, I was not getting too far along. I’ve been lost, still am, but I decided on one thing. What was I like before the fears, depression, anxiety, and the aftermath of the assault. I started focusing on that. What did I learn?

What I look at every day on my phone to remind me who I am and who I want to be.

I’m artistic in a few ways.

I don’t conform to society’s standards of “normal”(what actually is normal anyways?)

I love Sci-Fi.

I’m a geek.

I am definitely quirky.

I an average and never had strong self esteem, but I like to be who I am.

I love caffeine! (not all forms though. In a family of coffee addicts, I’m the lone wolf that loves tea.)

My brain has never been wired the way others have. It doesn’t take much for me to come up with goofy and zany stories to a single picture, or random comments. (I’ve been suffering from a migraine this week, and let all know that I’m dying from the Black Plague, much worse than Man Flu. Also that might help explain how nothing seems coherent today, or most days, and that leads to the next point…)

My attention span = Squirrel and shiny objects. It doesn’t last very long at all.

I like who I am, (or in this case of self discovery, Who I was.)

This is who I want to be again. This is what I’ve decided. I will be that person again. I am to a point, but it’s as if I reach a point where I cannot fully spread my quirky wings and let loose. I will. One day I will be able to feel as if I never lost me, and I will once again be me, and not quite Alice.



Not confident or assured; uncertain or anxious.


I know that it is me to a T. (What does that really mean? “Fits me to a T.”  I’ll have to look that up later.) Anyways. I was thinking about this the other day. Why? You can thank The Fray for this one. Their song You Found Me was on in my car coming home from work yesterday and the chorus is:

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lyin’ on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you? Where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

So that got me thinking, and again relating to a song. Not the part about God, but the part about how I felt no one was there for me for a while. I’ve felt so lost in my life, unable to find me (as I talked about yesterday, being Not Quite Alice). I’ve been working on that, but only after I started to open up to a few people. (And that’s not talking about therapists and counselors.) I have not known who I am, or where I belong. Each day was like a fog. Literally. I could barely make it through each day. I was lost.

But what about insecurity? That’s in the lyrics too.  As I said yesterday, I have next to no self esteem.  I have been bullied my entire life. It wasn’t just at school or work either. I grew up, and still am if I’m being honest (after all, 30 is not that old at all), with a sister, that for some reason never liked me. I was born, that was her problem. But growing up in the same house with her, was my own little nightmare for most of it. She made sure to always be putting me down, making me feel as if I wasn’t good enough to be breathing, and making sure to tell anyone we knew how I was not deserving of anything, or what all of my faults, real or imagined, were. Fun times I tell you. So I had that at home, at school, and as I got older and started working, work as well. I think some of it was because I just expected it. It’s how I was always treated, so I allowed it to happen.  But this is where my insecurity started.

So what happened? As the song said, I was lying on the floor, lost and insecure. I didn’t have anyone to help me or to turn to. I cut myself off from everyone, including myself. I started to harm myself trying to find me again. When that didn’t work, I tried to just end it all. And still that didn’t work, but it woke me up. It let me be found, and let me get help. I was found. I’m still feeling lost and insecure, but I’m slowing finding a way. It all started after I was shown that there are some people out there for me, and found me, albeit it seemed late to me, but was because I wasn’t willing to open up or trust anyone.

Who else is out there to find me?  Can I help anyone find them?

My Life

Every day I start by looking at the dog on my bed and ask him if he’s ready to face the world for the day. While I know I’m asking him, I’m really asking myself. Isn’t that funny? I try to gear how I start the day, by how my dog responds to that question. And most times it’s as if he knows how I feel too. Some days he is ready to go and jumps right off the bed, other times, he needs that extra belly rub to get going. It’s as if he knows that sometimes I just need that extra time to build up my courage to get out of bed. But I know when he jumps off, I need to get up and going since he needs to go out.

Today Alabama Shakes got me motivated to get going. Well besides the fact that I had to attend a class/group session at 1. Hold On is the name of the song, and whilst the singer is saying her name, I insert mine. So when she is saying Come on Brittany. I’m saying Come on Lindsay. But it’s my motivation. It’s telling me that I need to get up and get going, that someone is out there hoping that I’ll hold on and make it through what ever it is that is pulling me down. There is hope. There is something out there for me. Today could be the day that things turn around, so you know what? Hold on, that brighter moment is just around the corner, so hold on girl, you can do this. Get up, get going, because you can make it. Hold on.

What gets you going? What makes you hold on that bit longer than you think you can?


Hold On

Alabama Shakes

Bless my heart.
Bless my soul.
Didn’t think I’d make it to 22 years old.
There must be someone up above sayin’
“Come on Brittany, you got to come on up.”
“You got to hold on… ”
“Hey, you got to hold on… “

So, bless my heart and bless yours too.
I don’t know where I’m gonna go
Don’t what what I’m gonna do.
Well, must be somebody up above sayin’
“Come on Brittany, you got to come on up! ”
“You got to hold on… ”
“Hey, you got to hold on… “

“Yeah! You got to wait! ”
“Yeah! You got to wait! ”
But I don’t wanna wait!
No, I don’t wanna wait…

So, bless my heart and Bless my mind.
I got so much to do, I ain’t got much time
So, must be someone up above saying
“Come on girl! You got to get back up! ”
“You got to hold on… ”
“Hey, you got to hold on… “

“Yeah! You got to wait! ”
“Yeah! You got to wait! ”
But I don’t wanna wait!
No, I don’t wanna wait!

“You got to hold on… ”
“You got to hold on… ”
“Got to hold on… ”
“You got to hold on… “