True Life: Apparently I’m a Grown Ass Woman

I noticed something on my birthday, April 3rd. Despite turning 25, I don’t feel, or rather I don’t see myself as an adult. In fact ever since I turned 18 I never see myself as an adult. I always feel like a child in this strange body. I’ve asked friends if they ever feel as though they are trapped in a body that isn’t their own, not in a transgender way, but as a “yo-this-body-doesn’t-fit-my-age.” Friends have informed me that no they do not feel that way. I let Birth Giver know, and asked if it was part of having Trisomy X, plus being on the Autism Spectrum, she said it is possible.

The event that gave me the epiphany:

~FLASHBACK~

T’was the evening of Monday April 3rd, this vision takes place at a Shaw’s grocery store. All I wanted was a toy in the 75 cent machine. The toy was called “Dogs in Disguises” Despite already having one- Diablo, a white dog disguised as the devil- I wanted to see what my chances were of getting a different one. I put three quarters in the machine and turned. CLICK. Open the flap, no toy. WTF! Shit, now I have to go get my refund of 75 cents. When this happens at Hannaford they give me my refund of 75 cents not problem, it has happened more than once so the workers at Hannaford know the drill. However Shaw’s did not know the drill. The workers at Shaw’s told me they don’t control the toy machines, since they’re controlled through a vendor. I know this, I just want my 75 cent refund. Lady from customer service followed me back to the scene of the crime, aka where robots ate my money. She asked a bagger what to do in this situation, he said he didn’t know, page the manager? Manager was paged, after a few more back and forth conversations, I was finally able to get my 75 cent refund. First I had to fill out a form, because of course I did. I put my preferred last name “Sir-Potato” since the whole ordeal was ridiculous. While this was happening, Birth Giver and her bf were wondering what was taking me so long. In the car ride back Birth Giver said from her point-of-view it was looking like ‘better give this grown ass woman her 75 cents back before shit goes down!’ Oh. This explains the reaction of the workers at Shaw’s, see I saw everything as, ‘humans are being rude! Robots ate my 75 cents, please just give me my refund and I’ll be on my way.’ This whatever it is, also explains the reaction from the bagger and cashier when I was offered the entire roll of stickers at Trader Joe’s one time. IT ALL MAKES SENSE! HUMANS SEE ME AS A GROWN ASS ADULT! SO OF COURSE THEY’RE GOING TO GIVE ME WEIRD GLARES, WHEN I DO WEIRD SHIT.

~END FLASHBACK~

Since this power of knowledge has absorbed my mind, I of course have been reliving so many embarrassing memories, all of them are when I’m trying to fall asleep. So I’ll be up at night fighting my past memories, it’s difficult to fight them alone, which is why I’m so grateful that Boobsie comes running out of nowhere, to help calm me down. I usually fall asleep petting his fluffy belly, since I am allowed to do so. I also tend to wake up, with my hand still on his fluffy fur.

I think it’s interesting when I let other humans know that I am on the Autism Spectrum. They don’t believe me at first, but why would I lie about that? I’m not a believable liar, I would test lies out on a nosey neighbor, (made up relatives died) I mean there was that one time I convinced an elderly couple that Birth Giver named me Potato when I was born, because when I popped out of her I was such an ugly child. I have no idea how I was able to keep such a still face when telling them this, because every time I retell the memory I am cracking up. I bet it’s because of my great acting…which is like the acting in porn. Cringe worthy. I know I can’t act, which is why I’m always surprised when someone believes a lie. Am I learning how to properly lie? Or am I just magical? Probably magical, I am a changeling after all!

Photo time!

A teddy bear dog (Orey) snuggling a gay leather daddy teddy bear (Bun Bun):

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Boobsie:

hugs!

He’s giving me hugs!

sent to Lucas

I sent this picture to Strange Danger to wish him luck on his shift one night.

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I had some poo on my thumb.

Whenever I do or say something questionable, I tell myself “I’m an adult!” As though to make whatever I just did seem totally acceptable.

~SirChangeling

Meet the Members of my Rock Band!

There seems to be a confusion about my Rock Band. They aren’t a band in the sense that they play instruments or sing, they’re a band as in they band together. My rocks are there for each other and me. Each time I pick up a rock I needed to find it for some reason. I’ve had friends help name my rocks as a way to help me keep connected.

1 .Bob the Boulder: It was late fall 2015, I don’t remember 2015 that great. 2015 was as if my mind was on pause, so my body just operated on its own. I think I had so much shit happen to me in 2014, that I had to block out 2015 so I wouldn’t have more shit piled on. The last 6 months of 2014 I had multiple humans abandon me during the time I needed them the most, these were human who I thought were my friends. I realize now it was for the best, unfortunately I wasn’t able to realize this sooner. During fall 2015 I was at my worst, my closest friends lived states away, I couldn’t open my door to greet SMiFF like in college. Every time I walked to work I would pass this rock on the side of the road, I would give it that head nod, the ones that humans give to each other as a greeting. You know the one that doesn’t involve talking, aka the best kind of greeting. One day before leaving Potato Manor I grabbed a reusable cloth bag, when I walked up to Bob I picked it up and put it inside my bag. Bob ended up being half covered in dirt. So basically I dug up a huge rock before going to work. When I walked into the cafe I remember Ms. Rapture asking me what was weighing down my bag I had draped over my arm. I told her I found a new friend in the form of a rock. I texted Science Lesbian asking for rock puns, she delivered with Bob the Boulder along with a few other options. My former coworkers agreed Bob the Boulder was the best name.

2. Kk the llama Rock: Stranger Danger texts “K” to me all the time. Yes, he’s one of those humans who texts me pictures of decapitated bodies. (OK looks like a sideways stick figure) I texted him asking to name my pet rock, he responded with “Kk” I responded with “Ll” because our conversations are amazing. Llama was the first word to come to mind that started with “Ll” According to Stranger Danger I named Kk the Llama Rock in homage to him, since he had no part in naming my rock.

3. Squire Spud: This one is in the shape of a potato. I’m Sir-Changeling aka Potato, so of course I have a squire! A friend named this one for me.

4. Peaches: Birth Giver found this rock on one of her hikes. She suggested I name it Crystal because of the way it looked. That was such a generic name, I asked SMiFF who informed me the name Peaches was better.

5. Melvin: This rock showed itself to me when I was leaving the Lake House aka my grandparents’ summer home. Melvin Village, New Hampshire on Lake Winnipesaukee is the location of the Lake House. I never refer to the Lake House as my second home, it has always been my grandparents’ summer home, saying that it’s my second home never felt right to say. In my dreams the Lake House always appears as a safety base right before a nightmare starts.

6. Shit Nugget: I was walking to meet Birth Giver at a gas station so she could then drive me back to Potato Manor. (This was during when I was in CKA, the sous chef would be making up lies to stir up unnecessary drama in the class. Which gave me unnecessary panic attacks that resulted to locking myself in a bathroom trying to calm down enough to get through the day.) I was angrily stomping my way to the gas station, I was upset that this disgusting human was able to get to me this much. I found a rock at the same moment I shouted “She’s such a shit nugget!” I then squeezed my rage into said rock, my anger was able to go through me into the vessel of a rock. With the help of my classmates and Chef I was able to succeed in blocking out her drama. Having my Chef say “it’s okay to say no” was a huge relief for me. I never told the sous chef “no” but I said it in a different way, which apparently was me sassing her in a way that made her livid. My classmates told me to keep on sassing this human, since it gave them life. Shit Nugget is that reminder that I won’t let some disgusting human get me down.

7. King Momo: I had this rock that was without a name, so I posted on Facebook that I needed a name for a rock, in exchange I would send noms to the winner. A friend I’ve known since Elementary School provided the name “King Momo” she also told me to look up the meaning behind the name.

8. Petunia: While visiting my brother’s girlfriend’s parents on a mini vacation with Birth Giver we were tourists at Plymouth Rock. Along the shops in the area there was a small one with Harry Potter merchandise. I found a rock outside the shop, deciding to name it Petunia rather than Plymouth (the name that was suggested).

9. Lucifer aka Luci: On my way to bother…uh I mean drop off noms, visit former coworkers, and try to free the major guilt that was associated with my former work place. I found a rock. I gave my 2 weeks notice in late February 2016, however I wasn’t able to free my guilty conscious from the flashbacks until January 2017. Flashbacks of having to leave all the time because of anxiety attacks from register trauma. End 2014 to early 2015 not only was I severely depressed, but I was terrified of an assistant manger who worked there. I couldn’t work the closing shifts on Mondays, because the fear this assistant manager gave me was so strong. I was convinced he would kill me from the day I met him. Saying this out loud seemed so ridiculous I kept it bottled up.

Whenever I had to work a shift I would prep myself 2 hours before leaving Potato Manor. Of course even then I wasn’t able to complete my shift, I would get to work act like I got this, last about 2 hours, end up having to flee from register because I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I never really forgave myself for letting down coworkers as well as the other managers who thought they could count on me. I would mentally beat myself up about this night after night. At one point after holding in 5+ hours worth of anxiety this assistant manager told me “we don’t need you anymore” before taking my register drawer to go count it in the office. I broke down in front of everyone. I somehow was able to tell the head manager that I needed to leave right then. I couldn’t look him in the eye as I told him this. I was so broken from such extreme mental issues.

I kept hoping the flashbacks would stop once that assistant manager left. Obviously that didn’t happen, instead increased panic attacks happened. I thought about leaving to find a different job, but whenever I would look at job ads I would have so much anxiety that I could never click on the job description. When I finally was able to leave the job I had the most guilt from the feel like I was abandoning everyone who counted on me. Especially the head manger. I never really felt as though I deserved the amount of respect he gave me. I stayed as long as I did because I couldn’t bring myself to leave, I felt as though I owed him so much for all he did for me. That’s a weird sentence, I feel I owe a person for treating me with respect.

I would always bring noms as a peace offering to the Friendly’s Ghost in hopes that maybe I could be free from this fear. It took until January 2017 to be free from the traumatic flashbacks. I invited myself to a work meeting, I told humans it was for the free food, when really it was so I could soothe my guilty conscious. I skipped one of those work meetings in 2014 because of the insane amount of fear due to that one manager. Lucifer seemed like a good name for this rock, which is tiny by the way. This tiny rock which stands for so much fear I’ve gone through.

10. Tootie: I told Birth Giver that while at Goodwill I farted since another customer was getting too close to my personal space. My grandmother told me she taught me well. There was a rock near Birth Giver’s car as she picked me up that day.

11. Herbert: I dunno, I found it while shopping at outlet stores. I thought the name was odd, like my rock.

12. Stirling Hatred: SMiFF gave me the name as we were reminiscing inside jokes from college. I had a rock that needed a name, after a fit of giggles it was decided.

13. Francis
14. Reese
15. Malcolm
16. Dewey:
SMiFF loves Malcolm in the Middle I had 4 rocks which needed names.

17. Wanker: it’s fun to say…

18. Fredlicia: I walked into my former work place with noms as well as the announcement that I found a new rock, who needs a name. Fred was a name that was suggested, someone else told me to add “licia” to the end. Thus Fredlicia!

19. Global Warming: This one is in the shape of Vermont. Winter 2016-2017 has been crazy.

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Rock Band Members 1-18 in no order whatsoever.

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#19 Global Warming

~SirChangeling

Oh…

When I was in middle school I would tell new friends that I was shy at first, but once I opened up more I was alright. I continued to say that through high school, some friends would chime in saying that I wasn’t shy whatsoever. I remember having this embarrassed feeling engulf me, but still manage to continue on with the conversation, despite the awkwardness inside my head.

ERMAHGERD IT WAS ANXIETY! I HAD EXTREME ANXIETY THEN I JUST DIDN’T KNOW THE WORD!

So I guess those humans were right with saying that I was not shy. I didn’t use the correct word to describe myself. I should’ve said “I have extreme anxiety, that will turn into crippling anxiety in the future.” I recently had the epiphany: ‘oh, I’ve always had anxiety. I just didn’t know it at the time.’ Along with the extreme anxiety meant the attacks that followed when too many emotions would happen at once, or I didn’t know how to deal with my anxiety so of course I would burst. I would always try to have my attacks at my house, rather than in public. Or a bathroom if I could find one. Which is odd because the feeling of being trapped is not one that I enjoy. So going to a bathroom hiding myself behind closed doors and walls probably isn’t the greatest coping skill. I say “isn’t” because I still do it.

I was told growing up that my anxiety attacks, panic attacks and anger attacks were all temper tantrums. So that’s what I would tell others that I had. I remember the looks I received back all made me seem as though I was pathetic. I bet if I changed the wording I wouldn’t have had those looks given to me. Which is stupid.

I don’t remember my first panic attack, but I do remember a bunch of them. The outcome of all of them were horrible. If I was around my Abuser whenever one would happen, I would get a hard smack across my face followed by yelling such as “STOP CRYING! IF YOU DON’T STOP CRYING I WILL SMACK YOU ACROSS YOUR FACE SO HARD YOUR NOSE WILL BLEED! THAT WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!” The reason for that response was because I was upset that a science project didn’t work the way I wanted it to at home. When my cousin showed me how to do it, it went smoothly. So I slammed my hand on the wall and stomped away crying very upset. Only to have him follow me to my room and yell at me. Birth Giver didn’t do anything to stop him. Maybe that’s why I’m terrified to have panic attacks in front of others?

(Birth Giver asked me if I call him Sperm Donor, since she’s Birth Giver. I told her his name is Abuser)

I have to stop this post now, because I work at 7am today. It’s 5:33am currently so I need time to calm down the swirling flashback memories.

~SirChangeling

Is December Over Yet?

I’ve been trying my best just to get through December, I’m not sure how well that’s going, because I just want to live in my bed and never leave. My bed is very comfy, as well as warm (I love my heated mattress pad) plus there’s usually a cat or a dog on my bed at any given moment. For example, Orey is snoring next to me.

My depression becomes increasingly worse throughout the winter, and in December it just feels extremely painful and difficult to do anything. Holidays always give me major anxiety, not that I need it with my daily crippling anxiety…I’ve been dreading xmas 2016 since xmas 2015. I don’t see the point of the holiday I’m not religious, and I don’t see the need to visit extended family or Skype even. I told my Birth Giver in November 2015 that I don’t want to see my extended family for at least 5 more years. I saw them this past summer. Birth Giver told me that she misses going down to NJ to visit family each year, because xmas time is the best with seeing family and whatnot. Going to NJ was always a hassle for me. Long car ride, seeing family for too long, not being able to escape to my room for safety. I would be in a guest room, but that’s not my room, and foreign rooms don’t have that much safety feeling. Plus xmas time was very stressful growing up. My abuser aka my dad would always make putting up the tree the worst thing ever. I remember there was always yelling, and I would end up crying and running away, sometimes I would be slapped for “talking back” or trying to explain my side of things through tears and snot. I’m extremely thankful that my parents got a divorce when they did. I wish it was sooner though, I remember calling my brother one night, he was away at college. I was crying telling him how terrified I was that our parents were yelling, I was afraid that our dad would come into my room and hit me. So I was hiding in my closet, hoping to be invisible.

I have daddy issues, along with other issues. I suppose that’s why I have a love for morbid dark humor.

My allergist appointment showed that I am not allergic to dairy, instead my crippling anxiety convinced me that I was. So from the end of April-beginning of December I was convinced that I was allergic to dairy because of my anxiety. Life with dairy again has been good, skim milk is delicious! I missed the taste of skim milk. Cheese is a wonderful thing. The carrot cupcakes at my work are extremely flavorful!

As I write this post, I’m very out of it, my depression is bad, I’m lonely all the time, I have ptsd flashbacks and nightmares when I sleep, so I don’t want to sleep, but I need to sleep. To make matters worse I stopped visiting former coworkers, because every time I would visit this one fucker would remind me how last winter I had an anger attack and threw a dishpan at him. Needless to say I had so much guilt bubbling inside me, I was afraid to go back to the cafe, I was afraid to face my former coworkers. Anger attacks are the worst for me, I don’t have control over my body or actions. I don’t like having these types of mental breakdowns in public, so to know that a bunch of former coworkers saw me like that, I don’t feel safe going back. Chances are I’m going to be reminded how I threw a dishpan at someone. I was told I’m never going to live that down. My therapist mentioned how I need to forgive myself for that moment, and I thought I did, but now I’m not sure. I told myself that he deserved it, because that night he was being a real jerk, hiding my drink on me, untying my apron, being obnoxious to a ticking time bomb he had it coming. Then to remind me (once my mental health was getting better) how unstable and broken I was. I just feel like crying all the time, sometimes tears don’t run down my face, my eyes hurt too much to create the relief of tears. (Bobo is sitting in my lap purring, since he knows I’m upset. Orey is still next to me snoring.)

I usually reread my posts, take out all the times I typed “and” swap it for a different word, but I can’t do it this time. I forgot what else I was going to put in this post. Despite how difficult this month is the rest of my year has been excellent. I’m trying to stay positive, so sending dank memes to Science Lesbian, Queersaders, SMFF, and Stranger Danger. As well as avoiding my former work place, which has been hard because I miss seeing the other employees…but for my mental health I can’t go there for awhile.

15725987_1692807790744829_1839735425_oDerpy smile in this photo. Bobo bought me this huge can of pumpkin that was on clearance. So now I have 12 cans of pumpkin puree and a massive can of pumpkin puree.

Life is difficult this season, but I do know I have friends, humans, and animals that do care about me.

~SirChangeling

R.I.P Winnie, You Deserve All The Pumpkin and Peanut Butter.

As I walked into the kitchen to put my dirty tiny mug, that once was over filling with dairy free chocolate chips, into the sink since the dishwasher is clean and my energy to empty it is not present, I see a dog dish soaking in soapy water. This is when it hits me. She’s gone. I leave the kitchen to see Orey, a round (from too many treats) Bichon Frise Shih Tzu mix lying on the back of the couch looking out the window into the night. Bobo is curled up on a chair, his fuzzy little paw is hiding his face. The room is silent otherwise. I sat down on the couch looked up at Orey. “You miss her, don’t you? She’s gone.” I whispered to Mr. Rollie Pollie. I got up because I really had to pee, my bladder really knows how to ruin the moment. Orey followed me, because of his fomo. (fear of missing out) I went back into my room, to see Orey aka Hoover licking my floor (he’s a weird dog.) He’s having trouble getting on beds, so I picked him up he smooshed onto my blanket.

October 26, 2016 at 1:30pm is when my birth giver and I drove Winnie, a mutt of unknown breeds, to the vet to be put down. Winnie, or as I called her, Winifred Johnson had many nicknames, however her given name was Winnipesaukee as in Lake Winnipesaukee in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire. She responded best to Winifred Johnson though…or Winnie.

The past couple months had been really hard for her, she was in pain, she wasn’t taking her pills, (forcing a dog to take pills is not something that wants to be dealt with) she was having trouble pooping, but more recently every time she would get up she would yelp in pain. Waking up around 2am because your pet is crying in extreme pain, because her paws hurt, is hard to listen to. It’s hard the first time as well as the last time.

Winnie spent her last day, asleep on a feather blanket I have in front of my space heater. Outside it was in the low 30’s, inside my room the temperature was near 70 degrees. I called my birth giver a couple times, the first time to let her know that Winnie had tried to get up, but ended up crying in such a high pitched yelp that my chest hurt because of having to listen to her in pain, but not being able to do much. I put her pills in some turkey flavored wet dog food, she inhaled that as if it was her last meal. Winnie always was a little turd about taking pills, so for her to eat the food as fast as she did, told me that she knew something was wrong. You could see it in her eyes as well. She took her time going down the 6 steps to get to the front door so I could take her outside to go the bathroom. Having to pause at each step for a couple moments, waiting for the pain to pass enough so she could just walk down till the next one.

I called my birth giver, in tears saying how much Winnie was in pain, she couldn’t walk down the steps, she was yelping every time she moved her paws when lying down. It was painful for me to watch. I couldn’t handle watching her in so much pain. I took a shower, but I don’t know how much of the water was from the shower head, or how much was from my eyes.

It’s not a secret that I didn’t connect with Winnie. We rescued Winnie two weeks after our first dog, Bailey died of cancer on July 3, 2004. There wasn’t much time for mourning Bailey, because there was a new dog that needed love and attention. Winnie lived on the streets for at least the first year of her life. For the next 12 years Winnie was with us, I didn’t want her to be with us, since it felt too much like she was replacing Bailey. It hurt seeing her be in the house, sleeping on our beds. Bailey used to be there. That was Bailey’s spot. Winnie was so malnourished, but we fattened her up…or rather made her a nice healthy weight. I was at a summer camp when my family brought Winnie home, so I didn’t have a say in whether or not she stayed. It didn’t matter though.

I used to go on long walks with Winnie around my neighborhood. I stopped though because a golden retriever attacked us one day. The dog was behind an electric fence, except the fence wasn’t working that day, the owner didn’t realize the dog was outside, so when Winnie and I were walking by and the dog was charging at us, I kept thinking the fence would stop it. Instead this big dog was coming right at us. I tried to protect Winnie by putting myself between the two dogs, since Winnie was never great with other dogs, living on the street she was probably in a lot of fights. Winnie however kept trying to protect me by putting herself in between me and the other dog. The owner eventually noticed and came after his dog, trying to tell me that I should bring my dog back for another meeting in a closed area. I lied and said sure, so he would let me leave. Winnie and I didn’t go on our long walk that day, we turned back and walked home. That was the last time I went on a long walk in my neighborhood. I also developed a fear of big dogs.

It’s surprisingly hard to write about Winnie and memories about her. I was telling Science Lesbian earlier how I was okay about having to put Winnie down. I’m pretty sure that was just the denial taking over, I’m excellent at avoiding my feelings for things. Ask SMFF she’ll agree and tell you how I won’t admit that I love someone until it hurts to breathe because thinking of said human hurts me. When I finally admit it out loud, SMFF is there to tell me “So you’re finally admitting it. That took longer than necessary.”

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One of the last photos of Winnie. She was kind enough to pose for me.

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Orey and Winnie snuggling this morning, my space heater is behind them so they were nice and cozy.

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There was a dog outside, I let the dogs bark at the outside dog. It seemed like the right thing to do.

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Winnie would always sit like this, she thought she was human, or at least a lap dog. She was neither, but there was always room for Winnie.

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If Winnie wasn’t sitting like a human, she would be sitting and looking outside the window.

All of those pictures were taken today, on Winnie’s last day. It sucks losing a pet, and it hurts too much to write anything more.

~SirChangeling

P.S. Thank you to the vet who called her a turkey, she was a turkey, even though she was a dog, and the dog is not a turkey, the turkey is a turkey, you turkey.

Another thank you to the waitress at Denny’s, you were extremely nice, even before my birth giver told you we just had to put our dog down. I wish we could give you a $100 tip, but unfortunately we can’t. The Rudolph cup, with antlers and a red nose, was what I needed to help make me smile.

A third thank you to the elderly man who walked by our table at Denny’s. He farted quite loudly. I laughed.

And as always thank you to Science Lesbian and SMFF, for being there for me, without judgement.

Netflix is getting boring….

I was watching Bob’s Burgers on Netflix, until I became bored with Netflix. Which is quite easy to do. I’m probably going to cancel my account because ugh it’s getting boring. Plus now that I finished Lost Girl, there’s really no point in Netflix. Watching TV is getting to be a lot of work, or perhaps it’s my attention that is not catching up to Netflix standards? Anyway I decided to have a BuzzFeed marathon, because those are fun, up until I read a post about how offended humans are. Then my marathoning slows down, because BuzzFeed is starting to sound like Tumblr’s other personality. You know the one who bitches about how everyone is oppressing them, they aren’t using that word in the correct way. Bye Felicia!

This Fucking Post is what I shall be ranting about today. If you don’t want to go on BuzzFeed that’s fine, I think I’ll be able to capture what my opinion in a way that makes sense…possibly…you’ll probably still want to click the link.

Apparently Mental Hospitals aren’t a topic to be joked about. Which is stupid because everything can be joked about. If I think something is funny that doesn’t necessarily mean I support it. To quote Jim Jefferies in FreeDumb (which is on Netflix. Stand up comedy is probably the best part of Netflix) “You can joke about anything, a joke doesn’t mean intent.” I joke all the time about mental hospitals, despite the fact that I am terrified that I will one day be sent back there. By making jokes about it, it makes the fact less scary.

Also I’m extremely disappointed that no one was wearing those strait jackets, and in rooms with white padded walls. Although several teenagers should have been in strait jackets, myself included. (Imagine falling and trying to get back up!) I’ve had humans joke with me saying they see a “room with white padded walls in my future.” I let them know that Mental Hospitals don’t have those, so where are these walls they speak of? Also I would run at those white padded walls to see if they were really padded. I would like to test those out. Can you imagine if that was a job?
“So what do you do for a living?”
“I run at padded walls to make sure they are safe enough for mental hospital patients.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It is, it’s even better when I wear the strait jacket to run into the walls.”

For the humans who claim that mental hospital themed Halloween decorations are offensive, I wonder if they have ever been to one? I’ve noticed that a lot of the humans who are butthurt about topics are usually the ones that don’t have to deal with said topics. There was an abandoned asylum type theme park that was shut down because humans found it offensive. These types of humans are the worst, because they are ruining others’ fun. I’m not a fan of being scared, (I will go on strike by not sleeping if I have nightmares) but I wouldn’t want to take away someone else’s fun. My Soul Mate in Friend Form loves horror movies, I can’t watch them. Yes, she’ll tease me a little bit about it, but if I really want to be scared I can just open up the memories from my PTSD.

The decorations are a bit wrong though, the sign wouldn’t be written in blood, however it is true about no one leaving. A kid ran away once, and humans flipped shit. The Po-Po was called, no one was allowed to leave the building that day. The kid was found and brought back, he earned respect from me that day. I didn’t become his friend or anything, but he was able to run away from his aid, I think he got to the next town over or something. I saw him as extremely brave. Wait I just remembered someone wrote “GET ME OUT OF HERE!” on the white walls, in red paint one time.

The rags would have to be in the design of bars over windows, to give it that nice homey Mental Hospital feel. Oh and calling it an Asylum just sounds great, which it’s not. So that’s why I call them Mental Hospitals, because I loathe hospitals….and doctors.

This was an odd post, but basically I just really want one of those decorations, but I can’t because they’re off the shelves…and I don’t want to buy one.

Here’s a comic to end the post:

ha

~SirChangeling

 

 

Long Intro, But Sashimi Rolling, They Hatin’

I came across my two favorite jokes when I was in elementary school. I don’t remember when exactly this happened, because time is a figment of your imagination. I’m not surprised these are my 2 favorite jokes, because honestly they describe me so much. One can be seen as offensive to others, but it’s a hilarious joke, so those who get offended need to chill.

First joke:

Three people are running away from the police, a blonde, a red head, and a brunette. The police are gaining on the three when they notice a pile of potato sacks, seeing as there isn’t much time the three all agree to be animals hiding in the sacks. When the police get to the scene they kick one potato sack “woof” the brunette barked. The police kick another potato sack the red head hissed. When the police kicked a third potato sack the blonde called out “POTATO!”

Second joke:

How do you kill a retard?
Give them a knife and ask “who is special?”

I’ve been having a very difficult time trying to give myself motivation to even write a post. This is what fall season does to me, basic bitches will go post pictures of their Starbucks drinks, or pumpkins in bad filters, and I’m trying to find reasons why getting out of bed is a good thing. I get up to go pee, and then it’s back to bed for me. Depression sucks, anxiety sucks. Both at the same time is a workout. Why should I run when I can have an anxiety attack, it does the same thing for me: out of breath, heavy breathing, exhausted, sweaty, shaking, wondering why that was necessary?

I am actually okay with my weight, the only reason I need to lose weight is so I can get my tits professionally chopped off. I have to be at a safe weight for the surgery, so I don’t feel anything. Plus I figured if I stay this weight, I won’t get kidnapped. Fat humans don’t get kidnapped, eat cake, stay safe!

My birth giver told me I should write a memoir, because my writing skills are amazing, and I’m hilarious…or something like that. My short term memory isn’t great.

This post was just going to be an update of how my depression sucks and I’m trying to hold on, but I decided to make this about my tattoos.

faery
My first tattoo was this faery shadow. I spent about 10 minutes or so trying to figure out how I wanted the colors of her wings. The faery is holding a blue rose, which I researched and apparently blue roses symbolizes fantasy. The freckle at the tip of her foot was not planned to be near my tattoo, it just happened that way. Science Lesbian told me it’s a potato. I agreed. Every human I meet ask if this is a shrine to Tinkerbell. It’s not, Tinkerbell is too innocent for this faery. The shadow is because I didn’t want to think of what she would be wearing, so colored in black with the color in the wings and rose was enough for me. Since this was my first tattoo I went into the tattoo shop anxious, everyone I had asked told me getting tattoos was painful and that this was going to hurt. Even the website said it would hurt getting a tattoo. As soon as the gun hit my arm, I asked when the pain would start. During the procedure I stated that this was the best feeling I’ve ever had, and if I had enough money I would want to be tattooed by multiple artists at once to soak up the comfort. The tattoo artist smirked at this response, I go in anxious thinking it will be painful, end up being upset at everyone who lied to me about this. I did research for a year or so what I wanted my tattoo to be, as well as where I wanted it to be located. I remember my birth giver picked me up one day from work, I sat in the car and informed her that I would be getting a tattoo the next day with money from my paycheck. She told me how my cousin’s wife has a tattoo that she regrets, how a tattoo was permanent, that I should really think about this. I responded I’m not my cousin’s wife, I know tattoos are permanent, that’s the point. Plus I thought about this decision for a while. When I asked to get my nose pierced she told me “it’s your body” so when she was hesitant about me getting a tattoo, I told her “it’s my body.”

titty-twins
My second tattoo was Hello Kitty. (Red bow) I was extremely excited to get this tattoo, despite my poor choices with who I went with to get it. I love Hello Kitty. Plus I believe in the saying “if you got it flaunt it.” My tits are huge! Getting Hello Kitty on my tit was a great choice. She became Hello Titty. Shout out to my eskimo sister for coming up with that name. A year later I got my fifth tattoo Mimmy White, Hello Kitty’s twin sister. It was lucky that I decided to put Hello Kitty on my left tit when I did, because of the bow placement. Mimmy White is known to have a yellow bow, whereas Hello Kitty usually has the red bow. Hello Titty became part of the Titty Twins. Getting Mimmy White on my right tit, felt like a piece of a coming clicking together. The Titty Twins are done by 2 different artists, which I like seeing the different art techniques. I could probably go and have Mimmy White’s eye fixed a little bit, but I’m not going to. She’s special looking (heh heh to joke number 2) and I love it.

pride-symbol
My third tattoo was this bisexual pride symbol. Unfortunately it’s a matching set with someone, who I don’t talk to anymore because his views on life are insane! He’s basically like the Westboro baptist church of feminism. He’s one of the humans who’s views are so extreme that he makes other sane supporters look bad. We used to be great friends at a summer camp, then not having seen each other for 10 years he visited me. We went and got tattoos because tattoos are amazing. A couple months after that visit I saw his true personality, and that’s not what I needed in my life. I hate cutting humans out of my life, but it needed to be done. For a while I thought about getting this tattoo laser removed, but I decided to turn it into a lesson. Since I love this tattoo. Now when humans ask me what it means I say “basically it means I support everyone unless you’re a douche canoe.” The fact that my former friend is trans has nothing to do with why we don’t talk anymore. His personality of claiming to be right all the time, then if someone called him out on his shit he would get them to back off by saying “stop oppressing me!” He wasn’t using the word in the correct context, and he wouldn’t own up to his shit. That bothered me. Plus he couldn’t see the humor in the shit life throws. Everything was horrible, and not to be laughed at. I just rolled my eyes, because of how ridiculous he is.

krik

Whenever I see this meme, I think of him. Because this kid looks exactly like him.

orko
My fourth tattoo I got on a Friday the 13th. So this tattoo ended up costing $13. My mental state was not the greatest time to get a tattoo, in fact I should not have gotten this tattoo. For a couple years this was a huge regret. I got this tattoo with the Shopping Cart, he has Skeletor on his arm….or he did I have no idea if he still has it or not. The theme for these Friday the 13th tattoos was 80’s cartoons. I saw the outline of my tattoo drawn on a sheet of paper with other 80’s cartoon characters, it was the cutest one on the paper. What was my main reason for picking this tattoo out? It was cute. Yes, I am one of those humans! When the artist was done with my tattoo he asked me the following:
“Is Orko your favorite character?”
“Huh?”
“Orko. The character on your forearm.”
“Oh. What’s he from?”
“He-Man. You should probably watch a couple episodes.”
“Nah, I’m good. Now I can be one of those humans who has a tattoo from something I’ve never seen!”
My former Boss Man watched the show growing up so he thought I was ridiculous for getting this tattoo. Well he thinks I’m ridiculous for other reasons so it’s whatever. A year after getting this tattoo I researched Orko on Wiki for 5 minutes. I gathered what I needed to know, turns out I have a lot in common with this character.
(The scars next to my tattoo are from a time I thought that catching a baking sheet with my arm was a smart choice. It just came out of the oven with cookies on it. The cookies didn’t fall, but I earned my baker’s tiger stripes. I laughed when this happened, because it was a stupid idea, but it was hilarious.)

changeling
My sixth tattoo was the word Changeling on my left forearm. If you’ve been following this blog there’s really no need for me to explain why I got this tattoo. If this is the first post you are reading, welcome to my blog! Go read the other posts to understand more.

potato
My seventh tattoo was my Potato! I asked Science Lesbian to sketch it out for me and she did! My Potato is on my left shoulder, which I found out it where the Devil sits in the cartoons of an angel vs the devil. I researched that. My Potato is holding a red notebook and a purple pen, so he can write down my notes. He’s my Shoulder Assistant, the red notebook is because red is my favorite color, the purple pen is because one of my nicknames is Purple Majesty, which is a type of potato. The three spuds indicate my past, present, and future. My former Boss Man was so surprised when I got it, he didn’t think I would go through with the thought. Which is stupid, because it’s me. When I say I’m going to do something, I plan on doing it. When it happens is a surprise.

sashimi
My eighth tattoo is another Friday the 13th tattoo. This year’s theme was bad luck, so those squiggly lines are to say that the sashimi is rotten. I saw it as a spirit finger type thing. Plus my love for Japanese culture I had to get this design. My friend Ms. Rapture likes to introduce me as: “This is Potato, she has a tattoo of a rotten fish on her arm.”

When I got my first tattoo I told my then doctor that I would stop self harming and get tattoos instead. I kept that promise, I don’t remember the last time I cut myself. There have been time when the urge was strong, I did give in a couple times, but I haven’t in a while. I’ve gotten tattoos instead. I’m currently thinking of another tattoo to get, but I need to do more planning.

~SirChangeling

 

 

 

Please Don’t Save Me: My Soul Belongs To Satan, Not Your God.

I was prompted to tell the fascinating tale of how I sold my soul to Satan in high school. However since I have a problem with phone games I had to wait to run out of lives before I could write this. I don’t understand why humans will waste real money on phone games, if you just wait the lives will fill back up! Or you can do what I do download a bunch of free games to pass the time. Such as solitaire. I’m addicted to solitaire. However there’s worse things I could be addicted to, like drugs. Which got me thinking…I’m addicted to my medications…does that mean I’m addicted to drugs?! When I go off my medication (I’ve done so multiple times..first couple of times because I was curious what would happen) I turn into a psycho bitch, and delete friends of Facebook, because I don’t feel like a deserve friends for all the dark, morbid thoughts that I have. A bunch of my friends on Facebook have been deleted off, friend requested, deleted off, friend requested, and so on. However since I’m addicted to drugs I haven’t gone all psycho bitch, or deleted friends!…wait I lied, I deleted humans..but I haven’t requested them back so…..

On to the main part of this post!

Lights dim, curtain goes up it’s Story Time.

Backstory:

I was an Emo, crazy freshman in high school. Emo in the sense of “what goes on in mind not how I dressed.” (Actual phrase I would tell humans) My brother had graduated the year before I was enrolled in SBHS, he was one of the popular kids, whereas I was a problem kid, who lashed out all the time. (Sensory overload wasn’t diagnosed until years later..I’m on that Autism spectrum yo) Anyway all the freshman had to be in these peer groups called SLAM. I have no idea what it stood for, but for 15-20 minutes once a week groups of 10 freshman would meet up with 4 upperclassmen and a faculty member.

When I said my name during introductions, one of the upperclassmen was really excited to find out that I was my brother’s younger sister. I remember being extremely pissed off, she wasn’t happy to meet me, she was happy that I was related to my recently graduated popular brother.

One of peers in my SLAM group included Bryan Carparts (a kid who harassed me in middle school and for the rest of high school, not his real name but I wrote a story in English class about a Bryan Carparts who I died a horrific death..everyone knew who I was talking about)

It was right after midterms the following Monday, when one of the upperclassmen told us we should go around the room saying how midterms went as well as our weekend. I was last in the update, which gave me enough time to plan out what I would say. I noticed that Bryan Carparts was absent. (To those that claim I don’t have a filter, I do. I just say what I think is appropriate. Turns out a bunch of times most humans don’t agree with my logic)

“And Keely, how did your midterms and weekend go?”
“I’m pretty sure I bombed my midterms, I studied, but past research has shown that studying doesn’t help me so it’s whatever. This past weekend however was pretty great.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“I sold my soul to Satan to become a vampire.”
“Ummmm-”
“This is what I did. I laid down on my bed, said some chants, then took a sharp knife and ran the blade down my chest. Blood came seeping out, but I continued my chants, while I put my hand inside my chest to pull out my heart. Satan appeared soon, I told him that I want to trade my soul to him in order to become a vampire. He did his Devil magic before telling me I must kill someone so the deed will be sealed. I’m sensitive to the light, but the deed is done…which is why you will notice someone isn’t here today….”
“Keely I would like to see you in my office.” The faculty member told me. Turns out she was the head of the guidance department.
“Keely I don’t take suicide lightly.”
“It’s not suicide, it’s sacrifice.”
I don’t remember what she said next, probably gave me a warning.

The next week I brought in a water bottle filled with Fruit Punch Kool-Aid claiming I was drinking the blood of an innocent.

The week after I tried to convince a friend to claw on the door frame holding her neck with ketchup smeared over her hands and neck saying “That bitch bit me!” She didn’t do this, I was very disappointed in her.

I guess this was too much for everybody so I was moved into a different SLAM group. However I had one of my peers from my previous SLAM group come tell me how a bunch of students thought I actually killed Bryan Carparts. He was late that morning.

Looking back I would do all that over again. I was harassed through out middle school and high school so having my peers think I killed someone who was causing me so much pain, made me feel not only strong but also powerful. He still continued to harass me when we passed each other in the halls, but telling a group of peers in high school that I sold my soul to Satan to become a vampire is one of those happy memories I look back on and smile.

~SirChangeling

Will You Accept My Friendship?

After a couple days of telling myself to write the follow up post of vacation with the Science Lesbians, but not finding the motivation to do so, I found it. I just had to watch 4 episodes of Penny Dreadful on Netflix first. Love that show.

So from August 9th-19th I was able to spend my time with Science Lesbians, their cats, and families in Maine.

August 9th: I was picked up from the bus station in Portland. Was then whisked away stopped at a couple of stores in the area. Bull Moose was a wonderful store despite being haunted by Lake Champlain Chocolates…Vermont was following me. We then went to a cooking store where we took shots of infused vinegar, as well as infused olive oil shots. When mixing a buttery olive oil with a maple vinegar it tasted like PANCAKES were just born in my mouth. Mardens was another stop that was made. I connected with a Halloween mug that has a black cat on both the handle and inside the mug. My support for World Leaders is strong. At Science Lesbian’s house I finally met her World Leaders! Boo and Linus. After many videos and pictures exchanged and I was able to bow down to their greatness. Okay I probably squealed because they’re adorable.

August 10th: Blueberry picking happened. I became a true Mainer that day. As well as being eaten alive from mosquitoes. Bananagrams also happened. Despite Psychology Lesbian “cheating” by rapidly making words I was surprised how I was able to still make words. Most of the time the game would end with my art of words followed by a pile of tiles that I couldn’t make into words because somebody was saying “peel” too fast.

Here’s a conversation from that day, that was too great to not write down:
“I bought Slipshine with my stipend from class.” -Me
“You bought porn for being a good student?” -Science Lesbian
“Yes.”

August 11th: On this day I was able to see where the Science Lesbians go to get their comic books. We also went to Savers, I bought a purse because I have a bag and wallet fetish, some humans buy shoes, I buy wallets and bags after a couple months. The mall was the next part of the adventure.
“Fox as in the Kawaii Fox. Then run.” – Psychology Lesbian.
Torrid was the only store we went into, since by the time we arrived everything was closing soon. I tried some clothes on, nothing fit in the way I liked but trying clothes on while derping in the mirror was part of a great experience.
“What’s your name?”- Associate at Torrid.
“Potato.”
“As in the vegetable? I mean starch?”
“Yes.”
*Associate writes Potato on the whiteboard of the door where I’m going to try clothes on*
“My name is Becca, and I’ll be here if you need anything.”
For the rest of the time we were in the store Potato was still written on the door.

Since I have crippling anxiety I can’t speak in front of a crowd of humans. I can’t really be present in a crowd of humans without having an attack. However I keep being told I would be a great stand up comedian. Stand up comedians are in front of a group of humans. That’s just terrifying! I was given an alternative I can do:
“We’ll put you in a box with a laugh track in the background.” – Science Lesbian
“Will I get a microphone?” – Me
“Yes, and we’ll randomly push you on stage, because your box is on wheels.”
“I’ll be Boxed Potato peaking while peeking. It’s brilliant.”

“I had a dream last night where you both dyed my hair blue. Bleaching it first though. When I woke up I was disappointed that I didn’t have blue hair. I’d come back from vacation in Maine with blue hair. I’d tell my birth giver my hair had always been blue.”
“Tell her you ate too many blueberries. It happens a lot. Humans end up in hospitals because they keep turning blue.” – Science Lesbian

We ended our day with going to Olive Garden for dinner. Our waitress had only been working for about a month, but she was given too many tables then she could handle. So after waiting 15 minutes before even seeing her, the hangry at our table was growing. I was deducting the tip rom 20% to 15% because of having to wait for so long. The restaurant wasn’t even busy, it was because the waitress didn’t realize she had a lot of tables. The other table was directly across from our table. So we were in earshot of the shit going down for messed up orders. Behind Science Lesbian was a guy with a man bun, I didn’t want to be obvious about it so I took a photo of Science Lesbian on my phone with man bun in the background. Nailed it. When our food finally came, the other table was loud about their messed up order. Naturally I was eavesdropping, but I needed to act normal about it. Which apparently meant angrily mixing my spaghetti while giving intense eye contact with Science Lesbian. It was an interesting night… we all agreed that we wanted more shit to go down, since we were all entertained by it.
“Does Olive Garden have a porn parody?” – Science Lesbian
“What would that even involve? Smacking a butt with a cooked spaghetti noodle? When You’re Here, You’re Family. That’s a horrible tagline for a porn parody.”

I commented the tip should be 17% because I found out that the BREADSTICKS ARE DAIRY FREE!!!

August 12th: Blueberry picking happened again. We picked 3.5 pounds in 30 minutes. (Get Rekt) While Science Lesbian was at work, Psychology Lesbian took me to some speciality shops: pasta, produce, meat, and a bakery. Being a tourist was great. Dinner that night was homemade pasta made by Science Lesbian’s mom. The meal was so delicious, I was sad when it was gone. Criminal Minds marathon happened as we ate dinner.

“What I learned from Criminal Minds- I should put a lock on the fridge and put the key on a chain around my neck so I can then control the food.” – Science Lesbian
“No, that’s not the message.” – Me
“Was it be nice to your babies so they don’t kill you later from revenge?”
“Yes.”

Psychology Lesbian and I were watching Cupcake Wars before, but that show pissed me the fuck off. HUMANS WERE WASTING SO MUCH FOOD! IF SOMETHING DIDN’T COME OUT CORRECTLY THEY WOULD JUST THROW IT AWAY! BITCHES YOU CAN SAVE THAT! YOU COULD FIX IT! BUT NOOOO, YOU HAD TO THROW IT AWAY WITH 15 MINUTES LEFT OF THE CHALLENGE?!

To those who want to know why I don’t watch cooking or baking shows: timed challenges are the worst for me to watch. Plus when fuck faced humans waste food! (I hate wasting food, so if I throw food away, there is a good reason behind it)

August 13th: 
Blueberry pancakes to start the day is always a plus!
Followed by chasing Psychology Lesbian out of the kitchen with syrup so she could stop cleaning and take a shower.
Explored the library, helped color in a butterfly.
Shopped in cute stores downtown.
Went into a coffee shop, ordered a Matcha thinking it was just going to be hot water and Matcha…turned out to be a Matcha latte with milk. Had to say that I can’t have dairy due to an allergy. Felt absolutely horrible due to anxiety pulsing throughout my body. Science Lesbian received a free Matcha latte while I had a soy one made for me. Walking over to the table I was trying not to spill the very full mug of hot Matcha latte. So derping dramatically while scaring an elderly lady. Whatever I got her seat. After returning back to Science Lesbian’s house I had to take a 4 hour nap to recharge from the anxiety at the coffee shop.

August 14th:
Boston Comic Con 2016. I bought 3 grab boxes/bags. Then ended up having to give my wallet to Science Lesbian telling her to only give it back to me for when I go meet Shen of Owlturd Comix and Sarah Anderson of Sarah Scribbles. I only had one anxiety slip, but I was able to take a tablet for it. Considering how crowded Boston Comic Con was I was proud that my anxiety decided to wait until basically the end of the con. There was a group of humans chanting really loud to some music. I don’t know if they thought they were singing but I had a need for Simon Cowell to set all of them straight. While in line to be drawn in Owlturd Comix style I received a notification saying I had a new message from OkCupid.
“This guy with no profile picture just messaged me.”
“That’s the worst.” – Some girl in front of me in line.
“His message says ‘Do you want to suck a big black dick later?'”
“Seriously?” – Girl from before.
“Sorry, I have a dairy allergy. Plus I don’t really like chocolate.”
The girl in front of me starts laughing so hard she’s about to fall over.
“What did you do?!” – Science Lesbian
“I broke her! I just made some commentary, and she started laughing so hard. Ermahgerd I broke her.”

(This blog post is a long one! This is why I was putting it off for so long)

August 15th:
Spent the night at Psychology Lesbian’s house. So the next day we kidnapped Psychology Lesbian’s sister, who wasn’t warned about me, however I was warned about her comments. Heh.
I went to Target…he magicalness of the store seemed to disappear. There’s no Target in Vermont, so for years I always wanted to go to Target when I was in a different state. I don’t know why I had such a love for the store, Walmart is better honestly. I like to dress up for Walmart, in hopes to make it on the internet  I haven’t made it yet.
Back at Psychology Lesbian’s house her dog Bear and I bonded and became friends. I’m glad to have met Bleu as well. RIP Bleu from the 2 days I was with you, you had a great personality. I’m sorry I almost sat on you, I learned to always look for dogs under blankets before sitting on couches.
Thank you to Psychology Lesbian’s mom for making the curry for dinner! Thank you for not making it spicy…I have a pansy mouth and can’t handle spicy foods.

August 16th: 
Portland adventure
sticker shop
Classy sex boutique. When testing vibrators put it on your nose, if you sneeze it’s a great vibrator!
Gelato shop that had dairy free Sorbetto! Strawberry balsamic & Ripe Mango made a refreshing OTP for my tastebuds.
Bull Moose and comic book store.
Picnic on Science Lesbian’s porch while it poured rain.
Word card game
I WON CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY!! 13 cards!!

August 17th & 18th: 
These days I slept a lot, I needed to recharge from all the adventures that I was having. On the 18th we went to an Ulta and I was able to see the store in person rather than online. I’m starting to wear eye makeup again, after being depressed for a year and a half all the crying made it difficult to wear eye makeup.

August 19th: 
Last day with Science Lesbians. My birth giver picked me up that night. She had returned from her vacation of 3 countries in Europe. I had a wonderful time with Science Lesbians and their families, and world leaders. Plus my bonding cuddles with Bear and last days of Bleu’s life.

Pictures or it didn’t happen:

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Proof of my great skills at Bananagrams.

13924897_1462183197140624_8299682862836755982_n

Blueberry pickin

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Science Lesbian’s brother made some knife art

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Collage of World Leaders I met (Nora is missing a photo)

~SirChangeling

 

 

Flashback Nightmares: Is This Real Life? Well, It Was.

I had another nightmare again. I woke up at 5am because I was finally able to break free from the grasp it had on me. Not even 15 minutes of Bobo cuddles could help the terror go away. I’m beginning to wonder if I have PTSD over this. I mean I already have PTSD from my childhood, but is it possible that I have it over what’s causing my nightmares? I’ve been having two sets of nightmares, one set is about my older sibling, who is dead to me. The other is about panic attacks while working on register. I’ve been having the same kind of nightmares about working on register at my former job since I quit at the end of February. It starts out about the same, I go in and visit former coworkers, only to end up being told to get on register because I’m late for my shift. After telling the manager that I no longer work there so no I’m not going on register I end up being on register because that’s how nightmares work. The line of hangry customers is out the door and I’m having trouble focusing on the customer I’m with. When it comes to counting back change I’m having so much difficulty that I’m looking at the $7 wondering if it’s really $7. I mean there’s a five dollar bill and two one’s but it doesn’t look like $7. The panic attack comes soon after that. The feel is so real, I’m pretty sure I’m thrashing on my bed, when I’m able to wake up I’m sweaty with a pounding heart. It takes at least over a hour to get my heartbeat to calm down.

It sucks, because this nightmare is a flashback. Well not the first part, but being on register only to have a panic attack soon after is. I would experience that for a year and half. When I go shopping I’ll almost always use my card over cash. Cash causes too much anxiety.

I still try to keep up the positive attitude on life. 2016 has been great for me despite the all the nightmares, which makes me afraid to sleep. I miss having insomnia sometimes, I didn’t have nightmares then. I mean sure my mood changed, because I wasn’t sleeping, but no nightmares….then again I was working on register at that time, so my nightmares were a day time activity.

I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks from my childhood too. Not the good kinds either. I have daddy issues, among other issues. So the abusive flashbacks are another thing that have the need to come forth. After years of pushing them away not wanting to deal with them, I think it’s time to finally talk about it with my therapist. Shit it’s going to be difficult. There will be tears. I will be snot nosed from all the tears. I’m not looking forward to it.

~SirChangeling