attack of verbosity

Here I sit. Again. Thinking about posting, cause wow there's a LOT of crap in my head that really wants to come out, but as ever, I've censored it. Some of it is lame, stupid, ridiculous, boring, or really only relevant to me and my inner workings, and seriously that stuff doesn't need to be batted around with anyone but my hubby or my extremely tolerant therapist. Yes I have one. I don't call her as often as I should, but she practically works miracles, so I don't *have* to call very often. Anymore. And I haven't actually been to see her in years. Which is a blessing because she's mega expensive. (I'd put your money on some psychological bantering anyway, cause this here blahg is free.)

Anyway, desperately fighting the urge to edit myself, and as the well-trained journalism major and all-around 'way too fucking nice for my own good' type of person, it comes with a great deal of difficulty and a hell of a lot of "no, no, no, don't delete that. damn it, type it again" brain activity. And I'm 'uncensoring' because I realize that lately I haven't had much to say. The posts have been long, but I haven't really *said* anything. I'm way too 'in my head' and I should really just say whatever I want and not give a damn what anyone else thinks about me. Cause it doesn't really matter, and I don't have the time or energy to care.

Also, if you came in search of knitting activity, there is some, but we're not going to be visiting it today. Click a link to the right if pretty stitches call your name. Otherwise, carry on. Or don't. Your choice here doesn't affect me in any way, and therefore doesn't matter to me. And this may or may not get very bizarre and stream-of-conciousness like (more than usual). If you can't keep up, pay better attention.

I've been through and put myself through a lot of shit in the last year. Depression. Anxiety attacks. Insomnia. Gaming addiction. Knitting therapy. Real therapy. Lies. Bullshit. False friends. The list goes on, but those are the high (well, low) points. And yes, a real full fledged gaming addiction. I know, how lame of me. When I got sick of it (and the liars and their bullshit along with it...you know who you are), I found a way to break myself and I did. I don't even think about it anymore, which is a very nice change. And that was a huge step for me. I used to game every single day for hours, as long as I could stand it, until I could barely keep my eyes open. Not really the way I want to remember my life. So much more important things to accomplish. Like figuring out argyle socks. And maybe someday having kids and trying to not be a complete fuck up as a parent.

I used to have a very long list of the shit I would tolerate for the sake of 'understanding' someone or really just in an effort to see/believe the best in people and help them see it in themselves. Now that list is very very very very short. Did I mention very short? Very. I've decided that it's not my job anymore, a self-appointed task mind you, to try to help other people be better versions of themselves. I can't make that happen. Especially when they don't want it. I can only do that for myself. But I do point out to folks when they're being rude disrespectful assholes. A simple"you're being an asshole" works well in certain cases. But sometimes shutting them out and walking away is the best choice. It has a way of saying "you sorry piece of shit" that words just don't express clearly enough. Even a solid "fuck you" is often just met with "surely you're joking", especially when you're normally a very nice and tolerant person, and then you have to go through the long explanation of just how *not* joking you are, and really, my breath, thoughts, and manual dexterity are clearly more valuable.

I'm the type of person who is constantly (ad nauseum even) evaluating and assessing the person I am and want to be, and many times it's a rocky road to tread, leading to indecision and frustration and often chocolate. Sometimes it takes me a while to see the err of my ways, even with the verbal beatings about the head from my friends, but eventually I see where I'm making stupid mistakes and correct them (reference the gaming and the bullshit here). I'm usually a lot quicker than I can even comprehend. Cause I'm smart and junk. Except when I'm not.

And part of me doesn't want other people to know what goes on in my head. My brain spins so fast that I can't even express, much less type, all the other things I've been pondering in the last 30 minutes. But this is *my* blog and I can say whatever I want (it's my party too, so neener). Part of the last few weeks has been spent in self protection mode, only talking to my closest friends, family, and any other people I'm forced to interact with through my job or the places I frequent. It has served me well and helped me heal and develop thicker skin and a more logical attitude, but I can't stay there forever. If I get too comfortable, I might never want to come out again.

So I carry on. I consider all the things I want to do. I make a plan and go accomplish those things. I live and breathe and function as a (hopefully) better person. I keep learning from my mistakes, making adjustments and new decisions, then rebounding from them. I deal with the issues that make me want to hide in dark places or just leave this world entirely. (Don't call me all freaked out, ya'll know I'm way too fucking feisty to be a statistic.)

And now, maybe I'll also open up. Really open up. Cause I have a lot to say that never gets said. And I have a place to put all those things. And I'm tough enough to deal with anyone who gives me shit about it. (That includes you, Ethridge.)

Thus concludes this session of verbal diarrhoea. Oh, my cell number has changed. Should my services be required, send your mail to the addy on my profile.

You may go now.