we are not lost

Aubrey; also Birdie.
Fantasy writer. Polyamorous and really gay. Mentally ill and disabled.
Local queen of cait sidhe. Powered by caffeine, anxiety, and spite.

mortalcity: Maya Hansen, holding a syringe to her own throat (Marvel | knowing the cost)
So April was a mess thanks to a combination of still not being over that shitty thing my best friend did to me, my meds suddenly dropping off in effectiveness, and actually running out of meds for a while before I could see the doctor for a refill. It was not good, but my meds are back at a higher dosage, I'm slowly feeling better, and we will not speak of this April again.

I'm kind of... staring at everything I abandoned for a month, trying to figure out how to get a handle on any of it again. I don't even know what I want to deal with rn. Outlining? Worldbuilding? Screwing around with short ficlets untiL I remember how to put words together? Goal-setting is hard and I don't have energy for it, but I kind of... need to... anyway.

(I do need to find my inner Hamilton again and write another letter by the 20th, but that will only take a day, so I have some time to get around to that. Other than that... ehhhh. I don't know.)
mortalcity: (Hamilton | looking for a mind at work)
Hrrrm. Idk if I'm going to manage Camp NaNo this round after all. My sleep schedule's been fucked up and that has ruined every schedule that exists (because I have OCD, and the exact times matter and if I can't do things at that exact time nothing is getting done), so... not a lot of writing got done this month.

I was on schedule for, like, one glorious week, though, and in that time managed to get down an outline for this book. I need to tweak it and expand on it, but it is definitely story-shaped and not terrible! It's actually starting to look like it's going to be really fun to write, when I get there. So maybe the Camp NaNo after this one...


Only tangentially related to writing, but I came to a realization this week that kind of... broke through some of the learned helplessness about my life. And suddenly I have a plan for shit and, like, some hope that things will get better than they are, and it is strange but a really nice change.

I really need to Hamilton the shit out of a thing at some point today, and I am stalling on starting because I don't totally know what I'm doing and I'm very concerned I'm going to fuck it up... buuut I'll get over that once I've had a little more coffee. Despite the schedule fuckery, I am feeling a lot more on top of my shit than I have in a long long time.
mortalcity: Text: "There is no 'isolated self-destruction' in the word 'team'." (text | no isolated self-destruction)
Maybe some day I will stop giving basically every protagonist ever some variety of crippling anxiety. ...but it's definitely not going to happen on this story.

Plus, you know, I don't think I have a single friend who's not mentally ill in one way or another, so whatever. So what if all my characters reflect that? Like with queer characters, at a certain point I just... yeah, straight people exist in the world. So do neurotypical people. And someone else can go write stories about them, because I don't care.

(This post brought to you by a lot of second-guessing myself, because wow, Birdie, that is the third main character in a row with anxiety maybe reel it in a little there. BUT NOPE I REFUSE.)
mortalcity: Maya Hansen, holding a syringe to her own throat (Marvel | knowing the cost)
Could not sleep or write because for some reason my brain would not stop screaming.

Finally talked myself into taking an anxiety pill, because I realized I had locked myself in my office for no reason (no one else is awake right now) and the internal screaming seemed likely to turn external before long.

...aaand of course, even though I only took a tiny fraction of a pill, the second it actually hits me, it's like this bank of fog just rolled into my brain. So I'm calmer, but also not writing under these circumstances.

I'm going the hell back to bed. To nap, or at least lay in the dark and read Animorphs. Whichever my brain will tolerate. Mrrph.

I'm writing when I get up, though. Anxiety doesn't get to win this time.
Jan. 17th, 2016 05:17 am

Brain WHY.

mortalcity: A barred door with the words "don't open, dead inside" painted on (zombies | dead inside)
I have been having a lot of weird fucking anxiety dreams lately.

Cut because other people's dreams are boring )

...so I'm not sleeping tonight. It is not a direct result of this nonsense, but not totally unrelated either.
mortalcity: Natasha Romanova: bandaged, drinking tea, sitting in front of a wall of guns. (Marvel | so.)
Brain is finally settling down somewhat. I can think more clearly, and anxiety is down to... more or less manageable levels. Executive function is still an issue, and I'm struggling with writing and RP because of it, but I'm hoping that will sort itself out soon?

I am somewhat annoyed at myself because I had planned to do NaNo this year and I really thought I'd be prepared for it come November? But I just lost over a month of work time, and I realized something about my worldbuilding that is... helpful, but also going to require a lot more fucking work to sort out. So I don't know.

I might try to wrestle one of my other projects into something novel-shaped before the end of the month so I will have something to do with myself, but I'm not sure. Having plans disrupted upsets me and I am not very good at recovering quickly afterward. Which is basically the story of this entire terrible year.

Slooooowly getting ready for my trip to see [personal profile] jaeholderman later this week. I missed New York and I missed autumn and I missed my girlfriend and I get to have all of them for a week. /vibrates excitedly
mortalcity: Maya Hansen, holding a syringe to her own throat (Marvel | knowing the cost)
So I have meds. I'm pretty sure they are working, or starting to.

I am still adjusting/readjusting to meds, and probably will be for at least another couple weeks, and it's awful. It's just awful. Either I'm having periodic panic attacks over literally nothing (beyond a vague spider-sense that something is going wrong, somewhere in the universe, and it probably has to do with me), or I'm impossibly unfocused and my head is full of fog.

At the moment, it's actually a constant struggle to keep my eyes focused, that's how bad it is. I couldn't go to work last week because I was constantly hyperventilating and afraid to sleep for some reason, and I haven't even tried doing anything more productive than RP tags and Pokemon this entire month because it's just not going to happen and I will cry.

I hate everything and I just want to skip this and come out the other end with a semi-functional brain and the ability to walk across the house without falling over. Can I do that? Maybe?
mortalcity: Olivia Dunham. Text: "Real is a matter of perception." (Fringe | a matter of perception)
Well that was a fun RP-related panic attack last night. Let's never do that again.

Like. It wasn't about RP - it wasn't about anything, at least initially. I just kind of ended up in a situation where my character was suddenly flipping out about things, and the actual physical/emotional component of the roleplaying sort of tricked my body into actually flipping out because I was breathing fast and my heart rate was elevated and everyone was looking at me all concerned so obviously there was something to be anxious about. And since it was tabletop and not an online game, I couldn't just... walk away between tags to cool off, and it took me a little while to realize it wasn't just the character anymore, I was actually having a panic attack.

I ended up going to lie down partway through, and taking an anxiety pill that knocked me out for the rest of the night, and I feel better now, but ugh. That was unpleasant.

(I would like to state for the record that it really was not the GM's fault for not warning me. I mean, if something similar happens in the future and I don't get a strong warning not to do the thing, I will be angry, but if you'd asked me beforehand, I probably wouldn't have seen a problem coming either. Now we all know better.)
mortalcity: Olivia Dunham, staring at the sky. (Fringe | the heavens are taken)
I still exist. Been swinging back and forth between "pretty okay and productive" and "TOTALLY NOT OKAY AT ALL SHUT DOWN EVERYTHING" and... yeah. Brain chemistry is still doing things it shouldn't, but it could be worse.

At least now I am reassured that I really do have depression and haven't somehow been faking it for half my life. Because that was a thing I worried about for a while. Because obviously going three or four months without a hard crash means it was never real at all? /shrug

Today, I am slowly sinking into a hatespiral because the power went out just as I sat down to work. It's back now, after a couple hours, but I wasn't feeling particularly motivated anyway, and I have been working on wiki pages and prewriting for weeks now and I'm getting really really sick of it and I just want to write my actual story again. So now it's super late, I still have to do my words for the day, but I have to do it while snarling at the screen and my brain and everything in the world.

My house is still not unpacked. I want to put together the bookshelves and unpack all the books and get my office set up better (though... I will still need a desk that is not a piece of crap for that), but I'm still kind of terrified something is going to make us move again. I will probably still be terrified of that for a long time, after last fucking year. I really just need someone to come over to my house and do it for me, because I'm a little concerned if it's up to me it'll never get done.

Good things happening, so this is not all sadness:
- A couple friends randomly gave me story ideas out of the blue. One of them was a jerk and gave me vampires, which I did not ask for and am not sure I want, but kind of want to poke at anyway. Because I hate myself, apparently. If anyone was wondering, I will always accept story ideas if you have one you're sure you won't write yourself. They are the best gift.
- I am in a shiny plotty RP, because a friend mods it and is a terrible enabler. I have no idea what I'm doing there yet, but I am having fun with it. And also some of my castmates are making me art just because, and it's amazing. So that's pretty cool.
- cut for photo )
Toby is still adorable and Best of Cats. This is very important.
mortalcity: Girl with tattooed wings on her back (angels | hide those wings away)
I actually got some decent sleep last night. I did wake up from the same nightmare five times, at least. There were bodies in my trashcans outside (I do not recall if I was responsible for the bodies or not), and my overwhelming emotion was not "holy shit a dead person" but "here's another goddamn thing I have to deal with". That's about where I am right now.

Slowly packing up notebooks, because that at least I have the resources and ability to do (and if anyone else touches these I will hurt them). The problem with this is that OCD requires I go through every single one, remove anything I don't need anymore, and carefully organize them in my bags according to purpose.

I am super annoyed at the number of different notebooks I have for a single projects. The others have mostly contained themselves to one notebook each, but fucking On a Saturday... I mean, I can see how it happened because it's been years and I'd start new notebooks as things changed or I misplaced one only to find it later but... uggghh.

Hopefully soon I will have all this info updated and contained on the wiki so I can throw these notebooks out or repurpose them. They are taking up too much space and most of them aren't even useful anymore.

Soon I will have a desk and an office. Soon I will be able to work on all my things in my space organized how I like it. Soon I'll have my desktop back so I can play video games to wind down. Soon everything will be okay.
mortalcity: (Fringe | put on your best straitjacket)
God, I just want to move already. I am anxious and depressed and I need to get this over with so my brain stops flipping out. We need to talk to people and see if we can do the whole thing earlier than the end of the month, just to get it out of the way.

I have, at least, been promised a desk when I get to the new house. I won't be shocked if it isn't there, given the track record so far, but I can hope.

I made a current projects post, if anyone is curious about what I'm doing. It's stickied to the top of my journal for future reference, and any questions or comments about literally anything are 100% welcome, as answering them will give me something to focus on other than my own anxiety.

(Note to self: Figure out if angel blood is safe for transfusions to humans and others. Since KM asked.)
mortalcity: Bucky Barnes, sliding down the highway (Marvel | all it took was a killing spree)
So today took an unexpectedly shitty turn in the form of a dude showing up at our door and handing us a piece of paper that says we have until the end of next month to move.

For reference, we are not actually renting this house. We're working with an organization run by a guy who is friends with [personal profile] actuallyclintbarton's parents, and they are renting the house and letting us stay in it while they help us with disability and therapy and figuring out how to support ourselves when we can't actually work most jobs because, again, disability. So we had no idea what was going on with this, and the only explanation the guy at the door gave was "I don't know, the grass is a little long... Anyway, we decided to go a different direction."

So we flipped out and called the people who actually handle our housing, and they said they'd sort it out. Apparently what happened is that the guy who owns the house went to the leader of the organization for counseling (they're a quasi-Christian org, but they don't push the religious stuff on us, so it's cool), did not like what he was told in this counseling, and flipped out and decided to punish him by... harassing all of the people living in the houses the organization is renting. Which... what a fucking tool, who does that?

(We later realized that he didn't give us an eviction notice, or a termination of the lease, it was specifically for non-renewal of lease. Which... the landlord bought the house in October, we moved in in November. Unless the organization is doing a month-to-month lease, which makes no sense at all, it hasn't even been six months, and it seems more likely they'd have gone with a year. We're pretty sure the landlord's full of shit, but not positive.)

But in the meantime, we've moved four times in the last year, I'm honestly a little traumatized over it and did not want to move again at least until 2016, even if it's just across town, and we have no control over what happens now. I hope the people who are actually in charge of our housing will work it out with this douche. I'm reasonably certain that if they don't, they'll find somewhere for us to live. But even so, I'm stressed out and terrified beyond belief and I have been on the edge of tears all night because I do not want to move again. Not until I can fucking leave Florida and go to somewhere not quite as awful. This is so mean and petty and awful I don't understand why a person would do that unless they're a literal sociopath, and I have been through too much fucking shit this last year and change. Not. Fucking. Again.
mortalcity: Rikki Barnes, perched on a rooftop in the rain (Marvel | girl without a world)
I thought I was better from the plague but I am now pretty sure I was wrong. I am exhausted and achy and probably mildly feverish again, and I have once again accomplished nothing today.

I am so homesick my chest aches from it, and I keep nearly bursting into tears over it. I want to go home, or at least have some kind of hope that it's possible in the next few years. I want to stop hating myself for agreeing to leave in the first place, even though I was in no place emotionally to put up much of a fight then.

At the very least, I want to get out of this fucking holding pattern we've been stuck in, because I cannot handle it much longer. I don't care if I'm impatient because we've barely been in the house for a month, we've been doing nothing for six months before that, and I just want to feel like something is happening, even if it's slowly.

(...also I am not a fan of the changes to the create entry page. Everything is large and does not fit well on my screen. Maybe it looks better on bigger monitors, but I do not approve.)
mortalcity: A barred door with the words "don't open, dead inside" painted on (zombies | dead inside)
1) I am either depressed or sick. Probably both. Neither is awful, but both are contributing to me spending a lot of time in bed, most of it unconscious, and not getting much at all done. I'm just going to preemptively take the rest of the week off until Sunday, and maybe spare myself a little self-hatred and frustration. Hopefully by then I will feel better.

2) Ariel's ears are already looking better. I think. Probably. It's hard to tell, because he's still fucking stuck in the closet and I feel bad but there's not a lot I can do. At the very least, he seems to be feeling better.

3) The dogs have fleas. Two of the cats also have fleas (the other two having just received flea meds). We had flea meds to cover this, but they were thrown out in the move along with a shit ton of our other stuff. So now we have to go yell at the people responsible to give us money for new flea meds, and make sure that whenever they give in, they don't attempt to buy us anything that's going to kill our pets. I am so thrilled about all of this.

4) I'm hungry and I have no energy for doing dishes or cooking right now. Someone come feed me. :c
mortalcity: Olivia Dunham. Text, handwritten: "You're gonna be fine." (Fringe | you're gonna be fine)
I have wasted this entire week trying to acquire blood test results so I can start getting treatment for what may be the entire reason behind all my physical problems. I have failed. For the entire week. Literally all I need is for them to print some shit out, so it shouldn't be so hard, and yet.

I guess just giving me the test results before I left the ER would have been too easy?

At least they're closed today and tomorrow so I get to rest for a couple days before going to bash my head against that wall again on Monday. I swear if they give me any trouble I'm going to cry. Right there in their office.

...so yes things that have happened in the two months since I last posted:
- A few depressive downswings, which is why I haven't posted in two months, I'm sorry, I still live.
- A visit to the ER because we thought I might have had a heart attack (I didn't, but we have no idea what happened other than that it wasn't a panic attack).
- Morrigan is not pregnant, and was just having a false pregnancy. I can't say I am disappointed about this. She is now buddies with the other cats and the biggest troublemaker in the house, who loves to start racing around the house just when we are trying to sleep.
- We rescued and adopted out an eight-week-old kitten who randomly wandered up to our house. She was precious but annoying as hell and I am glad we found her a family so quickly because dear god I don't have the energy for kittens rn.
- None of my pets died on the anniversary of Simba's death, which was a nice surprise for my anxiety. My sister's cat who lived with my grandparents did, but he was like seventeen so this was not surprising.
- I started writing a story that was originally for an anthology but that deadline has passed and idk what I'm going to do with it because it is going to be kind of long for most publishers? But I'm in love with it, so still working on it between meltdowns. Not this week. This week is just Too Much.

I will now attempt to catch up on my reading list until I get frustrated and give up. Please inform me of anything important that has happened in your lives that I may have missed.
Jul. 20th, 2014 04:52 am

I live!

mortalcity: A woman's wrist with a compass rose tattoo. (stock | keep following the heartlines)
I come back to the internet and my journal layout is broken for some reason. I've had this layout for years and nothing has ever broken it. I do not understand. (Other journals with custom layouts are being slightly weird too, but in different, less obnoxious ways.)

But I've been meaning to maybe change it anyway, and that'll be easier than digging into the CSS to see if I can fix whatever's going on, so whatever, Dreamwidth. Whatever.

So anyway, I exist in a house (well, trailer, whatever). It has air conditioning, and it (mostly) doesn't leak when it rains (and that can be easily fixed), and I have an office to myself. It is great.

Slightly less great things include:
  • I can't really unpack because I have no bookshelves or drawers or anywhere to put my assorted crap. I miss not living out of boxes...
  • Still have not heard back from literally any clinic we have called. Still am not medicated. Still very unhappy about this.
  • We have very little money, and caring about food is hard when I don't get enough variation in my diet. It's also hard when I'm not medicated. I resent the fact that food is necessary to live.
  • I am so tired all the time I am beginning to wonder if I'm being secretly sedated, or have been cursed by an evil fairy or something.
  • Our neighbors refuse to feed, vaccinate or fix "their" starving cats (including near-feral kittens), but will come to scream at us and literally call the police when we do something about it. Though I haven't seen the cats outside since the cops came over (the second time), so maybe they are actually taking care of them now that they've been threatened with Animal Control? I hope???
mortalcity: A bloodstained note reading "Come now, Alice. It's only a dream." (BW | tangled and tied in the lies)
I keep getting really frustrated at myself, all "GOD WHY AM I SO ANGRY AND SAD ALL THE TIME THE PAST FEW DAYS? WHY DO I FEEL LIKE CRYING FOR NO REASON? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?"

It's because you are unmedicated. Dumbass. Please keep reminding of this fact if you catch me doing the thing.
mortalcity: Natasha Romanova, smiling slightly (Marvel | I've been compromised)
I am still alive. I am also stressed as hell, though all the shit that keeps happening has led me to a place of so much "I don't give a fuck" that I'm not flipping out about it.

The power steering in the car up and died, and we could not afford to fix it - this has mostly been worked out? Maybe-probably? People are awesome, except for Matthew's father, the actual owner of the car, who is a childish ass. Hopefully the garage will be able to fix it quickly, because we really need to find a place to live before this one gets taken away.

I am running out of meds and need to make an appointment with my new doctor, but A) I am not sure where I put that information and B) I don't want to do that until I'm sure I'll be able to get there. Ugh. At least if I do run out, the withdrawal on this isn't as awful as the last thing I was on.

I am flailing around looking for things to write. On a Saturday is in flames and will not be rebuilt until we have a more stable situation (which is fine, I got a pep talk from an awesome person about it and I am not freaking over it anymore), and until then... I don't know. I have four other verses in various stages of being built, but nothing I can actually get a story out of yet. This is really frustrating.

On a Saturday is going to be really cool when it gets put back together, though. Very different and probably hard but really really cool.