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Meta
Jan
10
Tired
Posted in blog, grumpy as fuck, sorta ranty, wah, whining
9 Comments
Sort of ironic that this week’s blog topic on Word Whores is about time, since that seems to be the one thing I just don’t have enough of. I hesitate to use the word burn-out to describe my feelings at the moment, but there it is. And it seems silly to talk about it sometimes – there’s always someone who has it harder. But then I read articles like this and I begin to wonder at just what it is that I am doing. I mean, no, I don’t want to raise my kids that way…but I do feel as though I’m doing them a bit of a disservice with the way things are going. Some days I feel so utterly wrapped up in my own doings and constantly trying to catch up with everything that I cannot help but think they’re going to look back years from now and think…
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May
17
The Unbreaking of Me
Posted in random, whining
6 Comments
The three hours at the homeopath on Thursday were among the toughest of my life. Homeopaths attempt to treat the entire person as opposed to just physical symptoms, and they believe that many ailments can be triggered by emotional issues. Apparently, I have a lot. And that’s not to just rehash the stuff about my mom – we went back pretty far into my childhood and worked our way up to the present. Parts of the discussion were eyeopening. Parts were heartbreaking. There were many questions I either couldn’t answer or didn’t want to answer (and there is a difference).I broke down and cried more than once. I repress a *lot*. And I’ve apparently been doing it for much longer than I realized. When it’s beaten into your head that you’re pretty much a worthless piece of shit by your peers for the majority of your school years, it tends…
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Mar
17
Random Whining.
Posted in home, moody, random, whining
2 Comments
You know, I’m definitely feeling a tad moody today, so I suppose I’ll just run with it for now. Again, I thought I had something much more intelligent to talk about today, but it’s not in me at the moment, so maybe this will help instead, aimless as it may be. It’s going to be cryptic, and that’s ok. I know what I mean and I suppose that’s all that counts. There’s a saying that you can’t go home again, and I suppose that’s true. Home doesn’t even have to be a specific place, I don’t think. It can be a feeling or a state of mind, maybe. I have a tendency to look back at the past as a sort of home, memories blurring until all I can remember are the good things, or maybe I’m just seeing them with rose-colored glasses. Seeing what I want to see. I…
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