I've written about my life with focal epilepsy here and there, I'm sure anyone who's been on this blog before is tired of hearing about it. My boss is at it again. (She's not the main focus of this post for once, nor does she deserve to be at this hour, but she got me … Continue reading Late night epilepsy rant with a little of my boss thrown in.
Tag: mental health
Three Years Ago Today
Early September is a good time of year to think about birthdays and deaths. The beautiful summer begins to show subtle hints of the coming end. Are there more beautiful skies than in September? Was there a more beautiful day than September 11, 2001? But the weather provided no protection against tragedy. I know someone … Continue reading Three Years Ago Today
“Who” the hell knows
Something that came up in a recent comment section got me thinking about how much we show of ourselves on our blogs. I try to be honest about what I'm feeling because I blog for personal enjoyment and socializing. All of us only reveal a slice of who we are which we gradually shape into … Continue reading “Who” the hell knows
My reflections meandered once again.
Another rambling introspective on what else but myself... I promised myself I would live according to the principle of acceptance. No more comparisons with others. No more stubbornness, because "it shouldn't have to be that way," as if that justified a freak-out. It's hard, because I have a strong sense of toddler-justice, flaring up at … Continue reading My reflections meandered once again.
Where I was all those years
From graduate school to retail, via epilepsy road. Don't mind me, just walking down the hall, having a little seizure... If it weren’t for Internet support forums, I’d never know the stories of other epileptic people. Guilt lifts through catharsis when you realize that so many of the things you blamed yourself for were really … Continue reading Where I was all those years
Heaven’s just a bus ride away.
A story. Fiction. Yeah, fiction. I With steady hands, Greta gripped her lunch tray, and through the crowds of jerkoff jocks and bimbo clones, pimply nerds and green-haired freaks, she marched to her empty table in the cafeteria. They were no more to her than noise. She laid down the tray and took a pad … Continue reading Heaven’s just a bus ride away.
Doctor, must you belch and remove all doubt of your credibility?
Eleven days into July, not much to show for it, at least not that I remember. Time is like that for me now. If I don’t write things down, I have no memory of them; there are barely even blurry impressions. Once again, I’m in the throes of a sort-of bout of health anxiety. I … Continue reading Doctor, must you belch and remove all doubt of your credibility?
It was a mistake to even try to remember them.
My plan was simple. Record my dreams, increase recall, achieve lucid dreaming. Well, it has been a colossal failure. It worked in the sense that I remember my dreams. It’s just that they’re shitter than ever and all sorts of people I don’t like keep showing their faces and…. bothering me. Oh, I won’t even … Continue reading It was a mistake to even try to remember them.
Tips to help you recall what your sweet dreams are made of.
Somewhere I mentioned my intention to learn lucid dreaming as a way to find peace in my aggravating, troubling dreams, to go into my mental office, as it were, to straighten up. A lucid dream, if you don’t know, is a dream in which you are actually conscious that you’re in a dream and are … Continue reading Tips to help you recall what your sweet dreams are made of.
I forgot what I was gonna call this but I think it was whatever.
Uh oh, I'm on time for work--what did I forget?--Did I brush my teeth? Check. Pants? Check. Well, then I guess I'm good to go. You silly--I was only pretending I forgot how to hold a knife and fork for a second. I need an excuse. I grasp for anything near at hand--yes, there's a … Continue reading I forgot what I was gonna call this but I think it was whatever.
In which I talk to myself about what’s wrong with me. (part 1 of 1,000,000)
I thought I’d write a writer’s block post like everyone else does when they have writer’s block. Why do I have a block? Because of the imaginary little man in my head who criticizes and humiliates me. Based on a true, pathetic story, a real TL;DR. If I ever get to meet God, the first … Continue reading In which I talk to myself about what’s wrong with me. (part 1 of 1,000,000)
Histrionics (writing prompt.)
You call me a bitch, Say I'm hysterical, Look like a witch, Being heretical. Stomp like a child, Screech, make no sense. Look at that girl--pretty, mild-- I'm wrapped too tight, way too tense. But I think it's pretty ironic, You're flailing your arms, Shrieking I'M histrionic. I discovered this prompt on the blog The … Continue reading Histrionics (writing prompt.)
Two weeks in…something’s missing?
Just some low-key whining.. no energy for heavy stuff. I woke up this morning, soaked in sweat, and I knew something was missing, but I still don’t know what. I don’t even know if what’s missing is a good thing or a bad thing. What I suspect, though, is a missing link, a link that … Continue reading Two weeks in…something’s missing?
Not only do I have a dark side, but there’s no light switch. #FPQ
Written for Fandango's Provocative Question #100 : "How do we make peace with ourselves, knowing that, being the basically good people we are, we also have a side to us which we know isn’t the best — our “dark side”? Can we overcome these parts of our lives that we may not be proud of? … Continue reading Not only do I have a dark side, but there’s no light switch. #FPQ
This is not the right way to get through life.
A pathetic self-centered rant. If you’re smart, you’ll stay the hell away. “We’ll get through it, Hetty, we’ll get through it.” Julie hangs her head to the desk and shakes it in the most unconvincing way you’ve ever seen in your life. Well, guess what, Julie, it’s been about nine or ten months and there’s … Continue reading This is not the right way to get through life.
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