Happy New Year

I raise my Hook to 2023.

My goals are high. My hopes low but still present. The past 2 years have felt like a decade. The last 6 months are a blur.

My Mental Health took a turn at the end of June. I self-isolated with my Yarn and Crocheted day to night, night to day.

It has become my comfort, my confidant, source of inspiration. My bridge over troubled water.

I do not know what to expect from 2023 so I will expect nothing. I know I will continue to battle my Mental Health. I will continue to Crochet. Aside from that, nothing is concrete.

I raise my Hook.

Crochet another Stitch.

For tomorrow is not promised, but is an opportunity to begin again. “The sun will rise again” (Devin Townsend ~ Universal Flame”).

Today is not great. But tomorrow will be better.


Here again. Granted I only have myself to blame. The signs were there. I chose not to see them.

I’m on leave. My Mental Health has reached a state where I can’t Life right now. I can’t People right now. I’m sick of masking myself. It’s exhausting.

I need a break. I am taking a break. And I will not be bullied into doing anything before I am ready. They tell you to reach out if you need help, there is help. There MAY indeed be help but there are still entirely too many ignorant people in the System that outright bully and belittle. My younger self may have folded. My adult self will not tolerate this. I digress.

For the first time in a long time I am being honest with myself. I am not happy and I do not wish to sacrifice any more of myself to greedy corporations who are only looking out for their best interests. I need to look out for mine. That means returning to Therapy. I did not see that coming a few years back but here we are. I may need to adjust my work schedule should I return. I need to dive passionately into my love of Creativity as it is truly one of the few things that makes me happy.

“What have I been doing?” I have been asked.

“Crocheting” is my answer.

Some days I only get out of bed to work on a current WIP or Design I have in my head. I have recently stumbled upon the Crochet Community and I am into it. I’ve been Crocheting for YEARS on and off. I learned quite young and have always gravitated towards it especially in times of Metal Strife. I can slip away into my stitches and if nothing else I can see that I have done something with my time, even if only a few stitches or rows.


*** Written in 2017 ***

I am not alone and yet I feel like I am so very alone.  I get lonely and that makes me sad.  Maybe it’s a “me-problem”.  Maybe it’s not.

I had a pretty good day.  I had the house to myself which I enjoy, and I had the morning off.  For once I used my time somewhat productively and wrote a blog or 2, made a few calls that I had been procrastinating and had myself a little pre-work bubble bath (mostly just because I needed to shave the bottom half of my legs…).  Either way, it was good.  Better then most mornings I have off.  Most mornings I have off I sleep until I can’t sleep anymore or I cry and feel frustrated.  At the end of the day I feel very alone.

I live with someone and 2 family members and 2 cats so physically, I am not alone.  But emotionally and mentally I feel lonely.  I want to talk to someone about my day,  how I am feeling, what I want to do on the weekend … but I can’t.  So instead I will vent to my computer, typing instead of talking.

It’s not yet 10pm and everyone is in bed.  Everyone works earlier then I do so I can’t hold that against them.  But still, where is my confidant when I need him? Lately it feels as though he is distant.  Again, not sure if this is a “me-problem” or not.  Maybe I require too much attention? Though when I think about it that doesn’t make a lick of sense.  I don’t get very much one to one attention these days so it’s not like I am asking for much.  I feel like we used to talk more, do more things together, we used to be “on the same page” about everything.  Now I feel like I am writing our book by myself.

Where is my support?  Where is my help?  Sometimes I just need a hug and someone to tell me I am okay, that I am doing okay, that I will be okay… but often times I find I have to hug myself and reassure myself that I am okay, I am doing okay and I will be okay.

Tonite I don’t feel so okay.  I am avoiding the dread in the back of my head and I am just hoping (maybe even praying) that I wake up and feel okay tomorrow morning.  Some nights I just lay awake and think about everything and nothing all at the same time.  I worry that I won’t sleep at all or that I will wake up feeling like I want to crawl into a hole and hide.  I feel like tomorrow [night] will just be the same as tonite and so on and so forth into the week.  I will be my comfort and support and confidant all week, by Friday night I am wiped.  Weekends have become a but drab.  I guess I can’t compete with certain things or people.  I feel deflated.  Like someone has taken the wind out of my sails.

I thought that when I got a job we could start to plan our future better, I thought that it would change something for us in the get-our-own-place department but either way we can’t get our own place for months yet.  So I suppose I am disappointed.  Not only in him but in myself.  I am disappointed in myself for again, being too nice, too helpful, too easy going.

Just Write

It’s been awhile.

A lot has changed.

I have been up. I have been down. I have learned so much.

I don’t know where to start….

I stopped writing, creating, really. I started working in a Warehouse. I got myself off of Social Assistance. I (with my partner) got an apartment. I thought Life was really coming together.

Things started to unravel just before COVID hit. Almost 6 months before COVID to be exact. I started to feel stressy, depressy, homesick, and lost. Upon leaving therapy my therapist warned me I was not finished. I begged to differ and was steadfast on my decision, but suddenly felt a pang of “uh ohs” enter my body. I had been out of therapy at least 2 years at this point.


You know, for the anxiety riddled wack job I can be, I surprised myself during those first months-and first year- of COVID. I was lucky enough to have chosen a career that allowed me to continue working, OUTSIDE my home (thus getting my self-isolating ass out of the house which was and is much needed). I fought my fight or flight response that so desperately wanted to take flight and run. Run away. Take leave. Get out. But I didn’t. I stayed. So many left, but I stayed.

I thought it would get better. Summer would come and this will end.

Summer came. Then Fall. Winter again. Not only is COVID prevailing, it’s mutating. I now have to wear a at mask at work. Every day, all day. My partner was laid off for a period. Then I was laid off. Our wages were greatly affected by this, and quite honestly, I never recovered.

Regardless, I enter 2021 with a renewed hope. This was short lived as by April I was extremely depressed. Broke. Living with the love of my life yet feeling lonelier than ever. Nothing is getting better. The job I once loved is now such a chore. Not to mention the TURNOVER of people was and is at a rate I have never seen before. Unfamiliar people everywhere, in masks no less, I still don’t know what a lot of my co workers really look like. But I digress.

By May I announced that I felt we needed to move home. I needed to go home. I needed to feel I was somewhere that felt like home, not an overpriced shit hole I was clinging to because “its what your SUPPOSED to do”…right…?!? Pfffft. When do I ever do what I’m “supposed to” anyways? (I always choose the Hard Road for context). I felt this was the BEST possible decision, go home. Everything will be fine if I just GET HOME. It took 2 months, moving what we could, back to our mother’s houses, on weekends off. I did not want anyone to know I was moving so I made it extra stressful on myself by not taking time off to move. I just used all of my spare time to load and unload my little Toyota pick-up as many times as I could. I was exhausted. Mentally and physically.

We gave notice to vacate the apartment by the first of August. I spent my first night at home (in over 5 years) on July 10, 2021. This gives me chills because this date is turning out to be a reoccurring one in my life. My Fathers Funeral was July 10. My first day at my job that I love was July 10. Now my first night back where I started – July 10. WILD.

I cried a lot those first few nights. I was home but I felt lost, still. Was this the right choice?? I miss my own EVERYTHING. Where is this? Where is that? I have no idea because I started panic moving and just threw everything wherever I could. My cat is stressed. Does my partner miss me? Even though he was a fixture on the couch I miss him. I want to be by myself yet when I’m by myself I get sad and cry. I don’t know what I am doing.

For awhile I partially lived in an insulated 40 foot Trailer when I first came home. We had one in the backyard. How convenient. There seemed to be no room in the house for me and I was happy to live out my tiny house dreams. By October, however, this bubble burst when I woke up to our first good freeze of the season. My little Trailer Home, being only steps from the House, had no bathroom or kitchenette. It was more of a Bedroom/Studio than a tiny home but don’t tell my previous Trailer self that. As it became colder and the threat of Snow became more real I thought it might be a good idea to move into the house to sleep. At least for the Winter. I almost shat my pants running across the lawn one night after a major disagreement with a spicy chicken sandwich, should that problem arise again I do not want to have to fight with a foot of snow and frozen doors because I do believe it would just cause a whole mess of problems. Pun intended.

It’s around this time I start to lose my period and have hot flashes. What a trip. I’m also down to 102 pounds and nothing fits. What is happening?!? Time goes by. Weeks. Months. Still no period. The hot flashes have now turned into a way of life. I set out extra pyjamas knowing full well I will wake up AT LEAST once, absolutely drenched in sweat. I will need a change AT LEAST once. I pick out my clothes solely for function. Most comfortable, and light garments, easy to remove hoodies. Thank goodness I work in a Warehouse and I can just wear sweats and t-shirts. I sleep with a fan on. I’ve positioned my bed to be close to the window so I can open it and breathe in the frozen air. I thought I’d be too cold in my little Trailer. I may have thought wrong.

I do some research and all signs point to Periomenopause. Fantastic. Because I’m not unhinged ENOUGH.

I have managed to gain some weight in the months since I moved into the house. I still have no period. Though I was unsure of wether or not I wanted children I did not expect to potentially be robbed of the choice. My partner very much wants children, I do not blame him nor do I want to rob him of this experience. I do fear that this could lead to him leaving me but so far he is still here. Do I worry that I am unknowingly pregnant? Nope. Because in order to become pregnant once must engage in a certain activity. That activity has also been MIA for quite some time. Does this cause red flags? Indeed. But again, I digress. Bigger fish to fry.

*EDIT* It has been confirmed that it is Peri menopause. It has also become clear to me that I have been ignoring my Mental Health and currently am taking some time away from that job that I so “loved” 5 years ago. I am again in search of myself and what makes me happy in life.

MacBook down. Send help.

For some unknown reason my MacBook crapped out on me September 2019 and I still have not been able to boot ‘er up. I have tried. Literally 16 ways from friggin Sunday to get this thing to JUST WORK and it just won’t.

I have a pretty good hunch as to what the issue is and for a variety of reasons am procrastinating getting it fixed.

I know of a professional computer person but again, variety of reasons, putting off making the call.

That being said I am learning to use my phone for a lot. Blogging being one. Got the app ages ago, finally putting it to use, this being my first of hopefully many posts written using my phone.

Testing, 1, 2, 3,

Here’s hoping this is my new thang 🥂✌🏻

The little Blog that could

Winter 2019.

It took a bitter cold I-feel-like-I-live-in-a-snowglobe kind of day for me to sit down with my little blog.  It has been so long since I blogged, probably over a year, so long in fact my blog had expired.  I have known for a few months now that my blog had expired and quite honestly was not sure how I felt about it nor did I know what I wanted to do about it.

Until today.  Today I sat down and decided I was going to figure out how to get my blog back.  If it took all day and multiple emails to support I was willing to go there, take the time, do what I set out to do … Luckily for me it ended up being a lot simpler and quicker then I had anticipated.


So here I sit all happy with myself for being able to (try to) get back into blogging (again!) and I have no idea where to start.  I did not really think past get-your-blog-back.  I’ve got my coffee, computer is all charged, fingers positioned and ready to type… I’m all blogged up with nothing (and yet everything!) to write.

My goal last time I renewed my blog was to write more.  Odd thing is I don’t think I wrote more than MAYBE one thing in that year(+) since I last renewed.  And a lot of stuff happened in that time.  I missed a lot of great content in that time.  I don’t like that I did that, so, here I am to try, try again to write more.

I have again renewed my blog in hopes of writing more.  This time if in one year I have not fulfilled my goal to write more I will be forced to shut down my blog and move on.  These are the terms I am giving myself.  I think about creating often so it’s time to try something new … hopefully….

Let’s see what happens.


The end of an era…

It could very well be the end of an era in my life.

I am changing and clearly so are my interests and hobbies.  One particular interest and hobby has been on the back burner for months now and it has recently occurred to me that I may just not be all that into it anymore.  Feels strange but sadly, is true.

I am referring to my dear old friend YouTube.  I have blogged about this in the past as I do recall my interest beginning to fade some time ago, but then it returned for a short time.  These days it seems as though my desire to even go on Youtube has severely dwindled.

I found YouTube at a time in my life when I was very lonely and in search of some, or any connection to people… Nice people… I found Kandee Johnson who immediately became my new role model.  I watched her videos day and in day out, I often stayed up all night watching tutorials and reading her blog(s).  It wasn’t long before I decided I too wanted to join the “broadcast yourself” party.  I started my channel and have since made over 100 videos.

It took me more time, energy, money, tears and frustration then I could have ever imagined to produce, edit, and upload videos.  And out of all the things I quit in my life, for some reason I refused to quit this.  I have learned and immense amount over the past 5+ years and for that I am grateful.  I have also met and conversed with a lot of amazing people which is magic in itself.  YouTube was there when no one else was.  When I was depressed, lonely, and not sleeping, YouTube was my friend.  No matter what time of day or what time of year I could sign in and see my online friends.  I could escape my own reality 4-10 minutes at a time.

There was also a point in my life where I really felt I had something to offer the YouTube community.  I had knowledge and things I wanted to share.  These days I do not feel as though I have much to offer the YT community nor do I care to share.

I have always loved to write and type.  I don’t so much love seeing myself and hearing my voice with video.  It gives me too much of an oppurtunity to pick myself apart.  I have however discovered that photography (and blogging) not only interests me more but makes me feel better then seeing myself and hearing myself.

I am still kind of lonely, depressed, and in search of human connection but I don’t feel the insatiable pull to YT that I once did.  I am behind in my subscriptions and have been for months now.  I have my own videos waiting to be edited but I just can’t be bothered to edit them.  I have comments on my channel that I am lazy to respond to (sorry guys!).  I am sad that my heart is no longer into filming, editing, uploading and watching but it is what it is.

It is the end of an era, but perhaps it is also the birth of a new one.  One where I live in the moment and stop picking myself apart.  One where I love myself enough to put myself and my feelings first.  YT is a wonderful platform and will always have a place in my heart but I feel now more then ever that it is not for me.  I respect and appreciate my fellow subscribers and channel owners as you were there for me when I needed you most.  But for now I must go, take a break, have a breather.

For now all of my videos have been privatized so that only I may view them.  Oddly enough I actually pre-wrote this blog months ago and the recent hubbub surrounding YT has only solidified my feelings.  Sometimes I feel like whipping out my camera and starting again but most times I decide not to.  That may change in the coming months, who knows? One day I just may jump start ye-ole channel but today is not that day.

Today I work on my blog… and not overthinking my YT “channel”.

For the first time in 12 years ….

For the first time in 12 years I am piercing-free.  In my face.  I still have a few in my ears, one in my navel and one in my right nipple.

I am not exactly sure what happened.  I was not planning on removing any piercings.  I actually just wanted to change my nose studs.  In changing my (double) nose piercing I suddenly found myself missing my face, sans jewelry.  So out of curiosity I decided (today) to remove my double nose studs, the last of my facial piercings.

I used to have my upper lip pierced a la monroe/madonna piercing, my labret, my tongue, and the double nose studs.  And today, about 12 years after my first facial piercing I took out the 2 that remained.

I have missed my non-pierced face… a little.  It is a treat to wash my face without any jewellery in it.  So smooth.  Not to mention blowing my always-running nose is a little nicer.

I have found over the years that I have been less and less satisfied with the placement of one out of the 2 holes.  To the point that I actually do regret getting it.  Secondly, I have had a hard time finding jewellery that I both love and trust enough to put in my face.  I want it to be pretty but I also want it to be a safe material resting in my skin.  Ultimately curiosity got the cat and I was just curious as to how I would look without my nostril pierced.  I think I like it.  I can’t promise I won’t add something new at some point in the not so distant future but I am kinda digging my naked nose.

I still love piercings and the world of piercing itself.  I have just come to realize that for me personally, I used my piercings as a coping mechanism.  I hid behind them in a way.  They served their purpose and that is great but as I am changing so is my preference for certain things as well as possibly even my style.

I have found a new (to me) style that I find myself gravitating towards.  I don’t know what one would call it per sae but I am diggin’ it.  My latest style role model is Stella Lugosi (find her on insta @stella.lugosi).  I love her high bun, her lovely brows, and her overall look.  I love the single septum piercing.  I am seriously considering getting one… as soon as I muster up the courage to do so…. and I am feeling really good and excited about it, about me, evolving yet again, into the me that I am most comfortable being.  When I look at Stella’s pictures not only do I appreciate and admire her beauty but I get a very comforting feeling.

*sips tea*

I don’t really know what the future holds but I do know that I am/will learn to love myself and will put myself and my feelings first.  No more pretending to be okay with things I am not okay with.  No more sacrificing myself for others happiness.  I am starting to remember who I was, who I am, and who I want to be.  I lost myself before, I am not willing to loose myself again.  To be completely lost and not even know oneself anymore is a frightening and exhausting thing.  I am still lost but I am finally finding my way, and for the first time in my life I don’t want to stop.  I want to keep going.  To do better, to be better.  To be whole and happy within myself.

Tea and Thoughts | August 2017

It is almost mid August.  It is hot, humid, and rains almost every day.  It’s okay though, I don’t feel as though I mind too much this year.  I am too busy working on myself and trying to avoid depression and “the dread” to notice or overly care.

I have been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting (nothing really unusual for me).  I have also found some new inspiration which is a welcome surprise.  I feel as though I am finally pushing to be my “best-self”.  I managed to find myself some gainful employment (in the last month) which was a HUGE goal that I still cannot believe that I accomplished. This has and is allowing me to get back to a routine – a Monday to Friday routine no less – just what I wanted.  I have come to realize just how important a routine is for me.  I need a solid routine to keep myself busy and grounded.  I have rewarded myself with a new tea/coffee mug from Wal Mart, a $20 haircut at First Choice and re-subsribing to ipsy.  I have also promised myself a subscription to FabFitFun if I can pay off some debts in the next 4-6 weeks.  Slowly, oh so slowly, but surely, I am starting to feel like I am actually putting myself back together.

I forgot about how great it feels to have a job.  I never knew how it felt to obtain a job I really and truly enjoy.  I have had a few rough anxious-night-before’s that first week but *so far* no puking before I leave which is amazing.  Finally, I do not feel so stressed in my life, relationship, or job that I hurl in times of uncomfortableness.  It’s hard to look back to just a few short years ago and realize that though I knew what I wanted, I was still selling myself short and letting myself down in ALL the aforementioned aspects of life (life, love, work).  I can now clearly see how lost, sad and heartbroken I have been.  And I can also see that I deserve to feel found, be happy and accept the love that is helping to mend my broken heart.

It isn’t all flowers and sunshine.  That is for sure.  Since starting my job I have lost over 10 pounds, allowing my weight to dip to 99 pounds, the lowest I have been since EVER.  It is part control and part lack of appetite due to the heat, a new routine, new goals, and the obstacles keeping me from achieving my goals.  I scared myself when I saw those digits on the scale.  My high school self would have been elated to reach that weight.  My adult self fought off “the dread”.  I have since been actively trying to eat more and have been able to get back up to 104 pounds which, for now, is a huge relief.  I know I am going to have to watch myself and make an effort to continue to eat regularly.  I have been keeping a list of things I know I like and will eat and I plan to hit our local grocery store as soon as I get paid (not that we don’t have food.  We do.  I can just be picky when I have to eat around my anxiety).  My current faves include:

  • Taste of Thai’s peanut noodles
  • Peanut butter Cliff bars … Huh. I see a theme here…
  • Lemon Pepper Tuna + rice cracker snack pack
  • Plain Rice Crackers
  • Twinnings English Breakfast Tea
  • McCafe Coffee

and as always, iced tea.  On the upside my stomach feels pretty good lately, even though I am eating in a certain way because of anxiety.  I am less gassy, I feel less nauseous, I don’t find myself worrying about finding a bathroom though out the day, and I don’t feel slow or sluggish (until 10pm when I am usually quite literally exhausted).

I have even been going as far as thinking about/planning to start an exercise regime of sorts.  I like to run and I have not run in a long time.  Come fall (and cooler temps) I am thinking of trying to run again.  I would also like to get into pilates and yoga again.  I have my yoga matt sitting purposely in a spot where I literally wake up and see it, I really need to start using it.  I feel that both activities would not only help me feel physically better and improve my stamina but also allow me time to think and decompress.  Also, it’s a great alternative to smoking which, admittedly I do enjoy but should do less of.

What I really want more then anything (aside from sound mental health of course) is our own place.  The thing that inspired me the most to work again was the desire to move.  And the realization that without me working that us moving will just take longer.  Too long.  I feel that once we can secure our own space that we can call ours and that I can feel completely at home in that I will finally feel at ease.  I miss my things, my coffee table, my cups, my record player….Oh how I miss my record player.  All with me but in storage right now.  Being that my love and I are sharing one small room I had to leave a lot in storage (in the attic).  I try to remind myself that this is temporary and it will all be okay but the reality is that we might be here awhile.  Longer then expected.  It is what it is I suppose.  I tried to go home and that did not work for me at all.  So here I am and here I will stay, for now anyways.

I haven’t been to therapy in months now.  Life just kept happening and I have had to cancel a lot of recent appointments.  I have an upcoming appointment that I am both looking forward to and dreading.  I look forward to catching my therapist up on my last few months adventures and such but I can’t help but feel that little twinge of dread.  The dread that asks “do I really still need this therapy?”.  Since the beginning of my therapy journey my main concern has been being mentally healthy enough to find and keep employment.  Now that I am getting there/am there I wonder how much longer I will keep up with these therapy sessions?  I don’t want to quit before I am finished but at the same time I don’t want to reprocess memories if I don’t have to.  Some still need to be reprocessed- no doubt about it – but I feel like a nice chunk does not.  Only time will tell I suppose but I do have a feeling that therapy may not be a part of my New Year/2018.

For the first time in a very long time I am starting to feel content in myself.  I am learning and have learned to trust myself, my decisions, and my goals.  I am realizing my worth, if to no one else but myself.  I am worth everything that I want for myself.  I deserve to feel loved and safe.  I do not deserve to put myself down, second guess myself or tell myself that I am not worth it.  I have done that for enough of my life now.  I also refuse to tolerate anyone who puts me down, makes me feel bad about myself, or tries to attack things that I cannot control (i.e. anxiety & depression).  I don’t need anybodies help to feel bad about myself, I have an easy enough time doing that all on my own and I am trying to break that cycle thankyouverymuch.

So there it is.  I have drank my tea and I am at the end of my thoughts for now.