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If you're gonna REALLY full on sit with it, you better add some extra oomph in there with a self-curated soundtrack. Poke around Ren-17 *and* Ren-15, y'know?

Repost (Public);  --tagged-- with Alicia D and Brandi H.

Fifteen years ago today there was an amazing time with a cheese buffet, chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes, "Don't Stop Believing" as an entrance song, fantastic friends, and PERFECT weather during an otherwise rainy week.

I got to wear a beautiful dress and extremely high heels, and didn't change out of those heels the entire night thankyouverymuch.

My sister made a week long trip and vacation out of it, my maid of honor was as perfect as the weather, my brother dealt with sickness but then thankfully good health, and then, on what was the best day of my life, I had the joy and honor and true happiness of marrying my best friend. It wasn't just some random party or hella-expensive overly planned Southern California event. It was a whole entire Bob Ross beautiful painting style moment to show everyone hot DANG do these two love each other. Pretty sure I did not stop grinning during the entire time.

(I I giggled during the full ceremony, partially because my heels were aerating the lawn and trying their best to make me fall.)

(I did not fall.)

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MY POSTS AREN'T SHOWING TO THE PUBLIC. 

wtf.

fix it.

help?

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9,131 days ago, a lovely gent said "guess we should be Official now. Want to move to SD and in with me?" Pretty sure I've never typed "heck yes" faster (on AIM).

May 28, 2001 was many moons and lifetimes and showers and jobs and gas tanks and laughs and tears and hugs and emails and customer service and shenanigans and cups of coffee and glasses of champagne with a side of whiskey and medications and shoes and jeans and dreams and litter boxes and paintings and therapists and WoW levels and books and libraries and fun and hell levels and demons and angels and great friends and terrible people and PTSD triggers and sunglasses and beach walks and ocean-staring and boat rides and heartbreaks and epic days and awful days and moments of hope and four hundred dollar STK dinner dates and Weird SemiGoth girl and Definitely Goth Woman and white mochas and isolation and abandonment and zero hot air balloon rides and THE INTERNET and gallons of cat hair and Los Angeles parties and early 2000s alt life and llamas and Bob's Burgers episodes and Space Ghost episodes and not nearly enough Del Taco chicken soft tacos and equally lacking amounts of sushi and Laderach Discovery and TRADITIONAL CHINESE MEDICINE and yoga and more books and ACNH and too few hugs and faaaarr too few kisses and all kinds of dance and lots of plantar fasciitis and loss and death and gains and wins ago, that's for sure.

Yep, still deeply love San Diego, and most of all the words above.

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20, May, 2026.

played my first ever pickup game, it was extremely fun, the team was nice, everyone was kind and helpful, and I'm ULTRA happy right now. every session and every game will not be amazing, but the team energy will be. And yes... I've decided to play my very first game this Sunday. 🤩🏒 I'm on Guardians, game is 5:45p up at the Mira Mesa ice rink. So I think that means I've finally accomplished my goal of being a feral space raccoon 🚀 🦝

i scored a goal on an empty net during the warmup part of pickup, and that means i scored my very first goal.

yep.  :3

--
i've had my meds adjusted as of a few days ago. may.... 26th ish. who knows. they seem to help now.

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i was angry. mad. sad. tired. depressed.

i went and skated about it. played some oldschool bad religion. skated harder.

got in some of what i continue to call 'hockey practice', because at this point it would be slightly inaccurate to call it skating for fun. i skated out my feelings for an hour, and that wore the edge of the anger but then sedated me enough to where all the other Feels popped up to say hello. perfectionism was in there, waving heartily - i'd wave back, but wouldn't do it right - and his voice rang out to say "hey kiddo, you skated like a shit, how bout you do another 20 or 50 drills? you might get it someday. just try again. harder."

i am a perfectionist and hate it, though sometimes it's helpful.

that said, skating on my outside edges is scary even though i can cut in decently with the inside edges.

that also said, i was cautious with my ankle and did some of what maybe was speed skating? power skating? who knows. i went real fast. i got the turns in there. i almost powered over some figure skaters and hot DAMN do i wish they had public sessions for people who have one knife-glued foot up in the direction of your face and public sessions for people who merely put their body weight in the direction of yours.

everyone is fairly polite, though, and i don't hurt badly right now.

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suic1dahl idee-ayshuns into Active Plan into 'sure, why not'.  it was a very straightforward unexciting feeling, the way you feel when you know it's time to wash your dishes.

you get told and told and told and referred to and gently told to call your therapist and psychiatrist and the many resources available — which yes, i have a list of, including some friends who make a point of saying GURL DON'T YOU *EVEN* — but i never realized until the past year or so that when you hit the Call Those Crisis People phase, you don't care about calling them. or anyone.

it's a similar feeling to going down your checklist. bland, to-do, typical.

— feed cats
— do laundry
— slice wrists
— xanax until empty
— take out the trash

...you know, simple things.

it'd be more like:

— do laundry
— get gas
— buy good whiskey
— take all xanax and benz0s and wash it down with said whiskey
— feed the cats
— take out the trash
— slice your wrists and inner elbows like they're chipped ham
— be kind to the cleanup crew (put towels down)
— play animal crossing until you pass out
— pay your taxes
— sleep 

the basics.

anyway, i didn't, which you can make the assumption about because i'm here to livejournal about it.  

fact: while i won't discount all my chronic mental and physical illnesses, i'll also throw in a solid "i never knew the terms Separation and Dissolution also meant Of Your Soul".

yay!

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i want to write, but ................. no.  all the thoughts are tired today, and have apparently gone to take a nap.
got a lot done today: helped resell a pet stroller. drafted a concept for my business partner's NFC stuff's instruction booklet. taught myself to rollerblade like i knew how back when. fed the cats. swept the patio. had a cup of decaf. had my housemate side-shave my head. they might not be a barber, but they do a decent job and it's free.  basic stuff.

tomorrow though, is my fifteen year wedding anniversary.  fifteen years of constantly remembering that Wedding Day was truly the best day of my life. seriously.

i fucking hate that j won't speak to me, or consider even being my friend.
hey, universe. kick me a favor and let those two items just be temporary, because i loathe, with my entire soul, that the other half of my heart is gone.  gone gone gone.  diamond sutra and all, but real shitty-like. 

i'll still celebrate the day though, even if it'll just be me having a cup of coffee looking at the ocean and simply wanting him to be there with me.

..................bleh.

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i'm working on writing my book. (IMBYL = i might be your lawyer. that's the title.)  

this is not that.

this is the words-equivalent of screaming at the top of your lungs right before you shit-vomit yourself in the middle of traffic. and yes, my Healthcare Professionals are all aware of these feelings of mine (98% of them), but that doesn't make the feelings lessen.

no lie:  every night, nightmares and bad dreams show up so fast to be my snuggle terror buddies i no longer want to go to sleep. again. ever. except for the part where i hope a seizure shows up and takes me to Sleep so i never have to worry about any of that, ever again.
waking up for the umpteenth time at who even knows what time with a terror feeling so bad that i took a xanax = the next day (today?) means full day xanax hangover, and unsurprisingly yet again all of those dreams are starring j. sometimes we get together in some sense, sometimes he despises me in some sense, sometimes he gets together with someone else and they both — along with his family and all my friends — laugh at me in every sense, sometimes (oftentimes) i'm having terrible adventures through the maze of huge disastrous buildings or cruise ships trying to save myself and everyone and he's there and becomes kind of my partner in crime and at the ends of the dreams — these are the better ones — we touch, we connect, we hold hands, he gives me a forehead kiss, and it hits that feeling that i had throughout our relationship+marriage as we get out of dodge.  but those are rare, the good dreams. the bad dreams aren't and haven't been for years now, and the dream-fog doesn't fade off of me throughout the day... but yet again i'm going to the ice rink today to skate (which does seem to help clear the brain fuzz, a little) and play my first hockey skills clinic whatever. because i want to skate. because i want to play hockey. because of Reasons, but primarily because j — now fifty?? years old??? and me at forty-five??!??? — plays hockey as he has for seriously about forty years, which is difficult to process as far as a time period, and i continue to hope (which is its own poison) that it will reconnect the two of us. my startout puck shenanigans will be on a team in division 5, and he plays division 1.  the latter is not news to me; he's played div1 since a million moons ago. and yes, i've gone to the rink for a year this august-ish, and yes, i've sat to watch many games (primarily because i can, i like them, they're free, but MORE primarily) because i want to see him — and also watch him play. he might be an asshole, but he's a great hockey player. (he knows this.)  i have a feeling at this point he has seen me sitting in the bleachers, and/or his teammates have, and my ears think they've heard certain sentences, but i don't interact with anyone who's playing. i go, i watch, i go home. it's also helping me study how to play — and understand how physics&ice work, because 'on ice' is when physics doesn't.  skating backwards and rabbit-hop micro-turn and whatever i called them reversedroplighting passes are prime examples.

i'll figure it out as i go.

because im approaching this for largely my own middle finger to [all the health crap post-craniotomy 2024 and financial crap and Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder and OCD and cyclothemia and probably perimenopause-ish (now) with almost a year's worth of amenorrhea the way grad school WHICH I ENDED UP EXPELLED FROM AT THE VERY END AFTER WALKING THE GRADUATION CEREMONY in 2023 gave me two years (whilst in the program) of amenorrhea) and now feeling like i've lost my entire knowledge of TCM and too many suicidal ideations dancing far too close in ring-around-the-rosie circle and bad reactions to too many daily medications and regular crying every day, for a long time,] i've decided to approach this mountain the way i imagine a newly-made amputee might head into what i'll call a Revenge Ironman.  partially because ironman marathons are insane, and a small petty part of me says "how's THAT for Revenge Body, you JERK" but also to myself: gurrrrrrrl, look at them legs! dang!

i'm doing this because i fucking can, especially the more people tell me i fucking can't. 

i'm doing it because it's HARD and crazy ambitious to go from (this past jan 10th, my birthday) to skating for the first time in over ten years to now, in march, getting various lessons and doing my on on-ice and on-land hockey drills and buying my own stick and doing the skills clinic and then — soon, as my disability arrives? hopefully? but otherwise tapping into my savings? — signing up for a division 5 league and, a year from now, (financials aside), i WILL sign up for a division 1 league unless my skills aren't quite ready. but i'll say it'll be by this time next june. or august. whenever the season starts.

i'm doing it because I FUCKING CAN. it's hard practice, there's a finite goal at the end (instead of just doing ballet/bellydance which is a lovely yet expensive hobby but i don't get to perform on stage the way i used to with those things), it's not yoga teaching, but it is a fucking PASSION i didn't know i had in a sport that i didn't realize would feel this natural to me.  and if any holy being hears my prayers or chants, or my vibes get to the right place, or ANYTHING, then at the very very least j will finally respond to my request to speak to me again because i'm a good safe normal human with a real busted heart who is not existing wholly or properly without him in my life, i fear (and it appears), and say "yeah yeah. hockey tawk over coffee. fine. let's go."   and maybe then he'll at least say thank you for the present-box i sent him (and think that he did actually receive) for his birthday. his fiftieth, which, on the box i wrote (happy cake-ieth).  i do think he received it, and not getting a thank you, even a thumbs up emoji via text or email or carrier pigeon...  that hurt bad like papercuts on the webbing between your thumb and pointer finger; the kind you get from horrible manilla folders, then you dump alcohol on it, and it still doesnt heal for awhile because you have to use your thumb.
it'll never not hurt, but i'll just add that to the rest of my actual physical scar tissue.

anyway (and also), despite my choice to not play goalie (which i truly thought about), i'm gonna play hockey, and i'm gonna score one on j (who is sometimes center but sometimes defense).  
if he gave me lessons he might be prepared for that particular slapshot, but stubbornness is a yoke, i'll say.

and i'm gonna stick with my habit to keep wearing red lipstick to the rink EVERY time i go.


"when you feel like crap, wear red lipstick." — some elderly lady

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i'm now forty-five.

let's see.... since that last update.... haven't had another seizure. that's nice.  

— eating: i mean, kind of? food does happen, but not much. the sugar addiction is back so some days i'll eat a bag of oreos and a protein drink and call it good for the day.

— joined the chess championship. that's going okay. i check in every day and play at least one move on whatever my active games are. sometimes that extends to multiple games, and several hours of playing. sometimes it's just a check-in to make sure to not get booted out of the championship.
not getting ANY checkmates for awhile now is frustrating moving into bumming me out real fast. i'll go back to working on it when i go back to working on it. i need to quit beating myself up over not hitting 100% perfection on every single thing immediately.

— my housemates let me use their netflix, but it doesn't always work. who knows why. sometimes the QR code BS hates me, and considering one of my housemates is an elderly lady who owns the account...   let's just say i consider it more of a fact that i can't use it, instead of asking her nicely to please check her email or see if she has received a text and then deal with technology through her, so i can watch k-dramas.
and no, i won't pay the $15/mth right now for my own account again.

— ssdi/disability: in progress. was referred to a law firm. they are helpful, and we are working together. they said the outcome seems positive. i'm not looking up potential amounts or any further "what could i get" type of info, because whatever happens with that result is not up to me.

— sleep doesn't.

— reading is still happening. it's going okay.

— chad is good. writing is okay. the other day i wrote for almost five hours and that was great.

— have joined skating lessons (on ice), and gone regularly to those. doing as many public sessions as possible, because the cost for the skate lessons vs paying for each public session = worth it. plus it appears you get graded (?) at the end of the lessons? their Beginner class was full, so i had to start in the Beginner+ class, which is really difficult for me, because you don't take skating lessons just to "brush up on details" the way you do with dance lessons.  
i've got all the gear and am padded up like Ralphie. i've been working on forcing myself to fall.
last week i realized Beginner class starts right after the Beginner+ class, stayed for that class, and then did public session right after, per usual. i think i'm going to try to keep doing that (taking both classes in a row) and see if they'll allow for the rest of however long lessons go on for. i think it's ten weeks.
last week though, i skated backwards (across the width of the rink) for the first time ever in my life, and that was fantastic. the week before was absolutely terrible and led into a full week filled with ugly cries and exhaustion and missing my ex with such a passion that i kind of wanted to d13.  this may have come from seeing, after lessons ended, the peewee/munchkin kids do the equivalent of "learn to play hockey". they were in so much gear and real excited to get on ice. that gave me the terrible joy of remembering watching him coach kids for awhile, and we'd talked about having kids for awhile. i wanted to have a son with him, so i could watch the son grow up and get taught how to play hockey by his dad, and we'd chosen a name for him.
none of that happened.
i didn't want to go through pregnancy, so i was fine with that part, but the rest... not so much.  i've rarely mentioned any of that to anyone.

anyway.
that was a bad week.
yesterday was his 50th birthday. i sent him some items. am not going to check Tracking on them because i requested that the mail service send me a delivery confirmation text or email or carrier pigeon, and they said they'd do it. so... whatever happens with that will happen, but i find myself staring at my phone, hoping to hear that ringtone i set for his contact a long while back.

this will never ever stop hurting.

i believe he'll be playing hockey this weekend, and i will — per usual — go to the game in hopes of seeing him play. it's terrible that i hope, ohh do i hope, for a sign of acknowledgment. a "thank you for these items" text, or a hug. OH a hug. it would be the highlight of my life for over a year now. i don't know if he's received what i sent, but .... i sent them, and that was that. there really is nothing further i can do but faux-sist (faux exist) for the rest of ever, and that's just where i am. my therapist and psychiatrist and doctors and neuro-doctors/surgeons all know about this. i know their phone numbers and emergency numbers, and i take my meds, but i don't enjoy going on.

as i said before, "i don't really do 'happy' anymore".  at least earlier today a friend made me belly laugh over stupid Sims related things, so things like that are nice moments to have. i can also try to be positive that my skating tomorrow will go well and i will not get hurt. 

anyway. also i've really been enjoying watching the games for a number of reasons, primarily because they remind me of chess. seeing the similarities there is fun. all of this makes me feel somewhat intelligent, and after the craniotomy, everything about me is different. so i am protective of my intelligence and therapies and everything i do to work hard about all of this.  (mm. yeah. not going to go into detail on all of that despite the fact that i'll blog for years about it if i allow myself to.) 

it'll be hard to skate tomorrow with crossed fingers AND toes, but i'll give it a go anyway. at least my ankle/peroneals/tibialis anterior whatever hurts far less, thanks to getting acupuncture this morning.  i do indeed love that, says the acupuncturist who doesn't hold their paper degree in their hand because their former academic dean is a useless lump thrown from a fiery dumpster. i also call them (redacted), or by their legal gov't name: "Academic Dean". 

they've done a job of wrecking and possibly ruining my life, that's for sure. now there's an issue with my getting my state acu license because of the mess the former A.D. made for me. currently my life just feels wrecked, but it will indeed be ruined if the license isn't something i am any longer permitted to (sit for the test and) get.

sweet baby jesus and friends, please grant my prayer requests. i can't do this alone anymore.

yoga and acupressure and everything is on hold until it's not.  i was granted multiple big fat ugly cries but still need more.

the floor was vacuumed, a bit of organization was done, the calendar was found, and the DMV explained to me that my license was medically suspended until my primary care doc signed off on paperwork to remove the suspension.

i did not know any of this until i went in — makeup done — to renew my license.

i took the paperwork to my primary.

they did not agree to sign off on the paperwork and said "oh it might be years before we do that". a very bland vague sickening answer. then they said "see what your neurologist says".

my neurologist, who charges $180 for a signature, said he will not sign off on it until it has been 6 seizure-free months for me. 

that answer was exhausting, but definitive, so that helped. i don't really get to leave the house often but at least can get rides when needed. 

in other news, i held the bass and played some bars.

i'd like to go back to sleep now.

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some days all i can do is make a list. i won't use "having aphasia" as a label, but it's enormously refreshing to stamp a Fuck This label on each moment. i hopepraychantwish that it is temporary, because fighting it is a bad idea.

how about you start eating again. check the to-do app. get on it with them veggies. just gnaw on carrots. you're fine.

2026 chess championship. see if your mind can handle 'how do i get real good at chess real fast'. go back to Red's notes and see what you can pull from there.

netflix — wednesday — blacklist — stranger things — maybe illusionist, maybe not, because J liked that and just ugh my heart ain't down for that yet

SSI? SSDI? do i start with a lawyer?

keep sleeping. it's okay.

enjoy ALL the fiction you're chewing through right now.

how's chad? (IMBYL title — that's one of my many books. chad's the main. )

just because you're not, doesn't mean you can't. you won't.

ice skating. public session $20 ea. GET A HELMET, WEAR THE HELMET. get the gloves and the wrist braces. WEAR THEM. don't fall. if you fall, at least these can help you a bit.

what's yoga? you ready to do anything about that with others? you gonna stream or write or ??????

you need a big fat ugly cry, is what you need.

hey, where did you drop that piece of rice? she says, as she bumps her fork against the bowl of rice and then flips a forkful everywhere.

organize one cubby

find that calendar.

DMV: realID, car reg. fuck the DMVtriarchy.

you ready to hold your bass again and see if it makes any sense at all? reading music is not a possibility right now, but holding the bass is. plus: hand exercises.

what the fuck are you gonna do about CALE? you want to start reading a bit on friday? is TODAY friday?!?!?!  what the fuck.

add to as needed.