brightrosefox: (Default)
Holy random acts of kindness, Batman.
After getting my flu vaccine, I went to look at the cane rack, because they have this beautiful blue and silver one that looks like dragon scales, and I have been waiting for discounts and coupons so I could get it. The price is under twenty dollars, but still.
A middle-aged man who looked so much like Idris Elba that I did a second take, also reached for the blue silver cane. Our eyes met, I smiled briefly. He said, "You know, I bet this would make an awesome magic staff for cosplay."
I grinned and said, "Good plan! I should at least join a game just so I can brag. Or just be my paganish elf self and cosplay every day." Which was blurted out because my filter is so thin.
The Idris Elba lookalike chuckled. "I adore that idea. I just pray to all mighty Atheismo that we aren't going too deep. Like that Tom Hanks movie."
My jaw dropped. "Duuude," I said. "Futurama reference plus obscure D&D rip-off movie nee book reference? Cripple high five!"
We high fived and missed on purpose, stumbling. "Mild cerebral palsy, spastic hemiplegia" I said. "Mild cerebral palsy, diplegia mixed," he said. "And knee arthritis."
"And sciatica," we said in union, surprising ourselves.
"Fibromyalgia and epilepsy and autism too," I added.
He said, "My twin nieces are autistics! Their world is so awesome. I think they prefer me to my brother when they're in meltdowns, they talk about what's going on in detail."
"Awesome!" I said.
At this point, we had been staring at the canes and I had been avoiding too much eye contact. I was about to ask the Idris Elba lookalike about advocacy. Then I saw a gleam in his eye and sensed a topic shift. "Hey, listen," he said. "I'm a proponent of the pay it forward thing. I know we're strangers, but I do know enough about you that you really want the dragon scale cane."
I tilted my head. "Yeeeaah?"
"So, okay." He pulled some pieces of paper from his pocket. "I've got a buy one get one half off for this brand of canes. I will buy you your cane. What do you think?"
I blinked a few times. I looked at him. He wasn't hitting on me. He wasn't being creepy. He was just a fellow cripple offering help.
"Okay," I said, "thank you! That's really kind."
"Hey, the community needs all the assistance we can get from each other. Cripples helping cripples, you know?"
I smiled. "Totally."
As we walked to a register, he said, "I want you to know that I had no intention of hitting on you. I see your rings, and for all I know they could mean something else. But while I think you're a gorgeous-looking person, I have no plans on being a That Guy. I punch Those Guys on a regular basis."
"Huh?"
"Physical trainer. Not so much punch as pinch in sensitive areas. Men can be scum."
I giggled. "Hashtag Not All Men!"
He laughed. "Anyway, let me pay for everything." He nodded at my basket, which had a few comfort items. I immediately said he shouldn't, since he was getting me the cane.
He then put my basket on the conveyor belt, looked at me until I noticed that his eyes had gold rings, and said, "Then pay it forward. Help another cripple." The corner of his mouth turned up. "Even if it's just donating to help someone get better access."
I nodded. I was going to cry any minute. He paid for everything, put his things in two totes and put my things in two more totes. He saved me almost forty dollars.
He said, "I would offer you a ride, but my friend's picking me up so we can go back to Philly. It's been a great road trip so far."
I nodded. "It's cool. I'm going to take the bus home anyway." I was feeling giddy. "Well, obviously we had this encounter for a reason. So. It was lovely meeting you, clone of Idris Elba."
He threw back his head and laughed. "I get that a lot. Same to you, clone of Mia Sara. Anyway, I'm Laurence."
"Joanna."
We fist-bumped and he helped adjust my cane for my height. We walked outside together, and he stood at the curb to wait for his friend while I walked across the parking lot. I turned and waved. He waved back and kept looking at me. I realized it was to make sure I was safe.
I got to the sidewalk crosswalk and peered back. I saw him get into a green SUV. I realized I would probably never see him again.
I am definitely going to Pay It Forward.

***

Also! Links! For future reference!
http://www.neurodiversity.com/main.html
http://cerebralpalsy.org/about-cerebral-palsy/associative-conditions/
http://www.disabilityscoop.com/2013/10/03/autism-common-cerebral-palsy/18775/

***

Also!
PMS is vicious. Although with oral contraceptives, it's technically withdrawal bleeding rather than menstruation. Besides, I haven't truly bled in over a year. Being on the highest dose of birth control for over fourteen years will do that to some women.
PMS is vicious. A veliciraptor chewing through my pelvis. There's a photo out there of a plastic female human skeleton, with a toy raptor stuck head-first through the pelvic bone.
And the bloating and bizarre fluctuations on the bathroom scale.
Having slid back to psychiatric anorexia after failing to control neurochemical anorexia, I know damn well I should not stand on that scale especially during this time. I know damn well that numbers don't mean as much as how my clothing fits. But paranoia bred from life-long anxiety over disordered eating patterns is paranoia. And then there was the entire food=growth=death connection when I was little. And then there was being under a hundred pounds until my mid-twenties. And then there was the anorexia voices insisting that I needed to get back to that, being under five feet tall. I was never overweight. I used to weigh something around the high "set point" - but I have no idea where I've constructed this memory of being convinced to lose twenty pounds. Unfortunately, my illness has burrowed deep enough into my subconscious that my thoughts have turned to the classic hallmarks of anorexia: "I absolutely must be below X number or I will never feel right". The unwillingness to stop. The belief that everything is wrong. I know where I am. I know what's happening. I've been able to compartmentalize and separate enough so that I smack myself when those thoughts occur, so that I at least eat an apple or two, or cheese, yogurt, celery, even cheesecake or dark chocolate. My friends are with me.
Sag Harbor will happen next week, with Thanksgiving. Part of me is in a total blind mute panic. That part doesn't want to eat anything. That part wants to Be Good, Be Perfect. It doesn't matter that I'm over thirty, says the panic. It only matters that I am extremely small and I must keep being extremely small.
To bring everything around again: PMS is not helping. PMS is several numbers upward on the scale because of fluid retention, bloating... losing that fight to not overeat. PMS is barely fitting into the purple dyed jeans yesterday and having them slightly loose today. It isn't helping anything.

But I look at that blue and silver dragon scale cane, bought for me by a total stranger with the same disability as me, and I think the best way I can Pay It Forward is to make sure someone I care for stays as mentally healthy as possible...
brightrosefox: (Default)
So, I had what I considered a palsy victory and agony simultaneously.

Depressive episode gripping me hard enough to draw blood, I walked out - no cane, because medicine and meditative stretchy exercise like whoa - and took the Metro to Twinbrook, walked the ten minutes to Congressional Plaza, shopped, stopped to eat sushi, and carried two bags back to the Metro, right side burning and feeling ripped open while palsy left side felt ghost-like and nearly numb. Got to Shady Grove again, took the bus and stopped at the Redmill Center right near my house community, went to the CVS and bought drug refills, limped and shook and spasmed and gasped as the bus dropped me off across from my townhouse community, walked with three bags that felt like dead weights, stopped to get the mail, went home, went upstairs, collapsed, and very weakly, feebly flailed and flapped and cried out "Yay, I did it, go me!"

I got myself belated birthday gifts, especially because the Rockville Ulta now carries
It Cosmetics´╗┐, which is my top favorite makeup brand in the world, which I just learned today so it was like a cliche of angels singing. I'd been waiting for my Ulta to acquire It Cosmetics since last year, when the Silver Spring Ulta announced they had the brand and that Rockville would get it this spring. YES. I was also flush with coupons and points so I splurged: I got the new liquid peptide foundation and the new thin-brush peptide mascara; and also Ecotools brand konjac facial cleansing sponge made of konjac fibers, because konjac is one of the most awesome internal and external cleansing fibers in the world.

I was in horrid pain, honestly awful bad bad pain, pain that was like trauma pain... and I was happy. Because PAIN pushed me on. And VICTORY. It was nearly joy. And joy is something above emotion, after all.

I knew that my cane might have made my hands more full. But the fact that I was capable of doing all this without a cane... it was just... well, you know. Hemiplegic spastic ataxic cerebral palsy, spastic hypertonia, fibromyalgia, osteoarthritis, sciatica, lordosis, migraine pain, major depressive episode, autistic symptoms making everything loud and bright and I could barely look in people's eyes despite cheerful conversations. I did STUFF. I did stuff that made me feel good. I will be in pain for days. But I did it! I think the agony will be worth it, the codeine and the tramadol and the baclofen and the clonazepam and the capsule supplemets of devil's claw and MSM and cayenne and mangosteen and noni vinpocetine and oh my gods I can hardly walk and I am shaking all over and my muscles feel torn up and I want to break down in tears.
But I am proud of myself?
*wipes away tears*

Damn, I really hurt...

...and I forgot to buy milk.
It's okay. I have enough coconut cream, coconut milk, and sweetened condensed milk to work with my coffee until I can get to Giant. Plus a hand mixer blender device to whip it good. At Giant I can grab a lightweight jug of kitty litter and a half-gallon of whole milk, and canned cat food. I can bring a backpack plus a tote to see what will fit how, so I can take the cane.
I'm twitching so much. I wonder if this entire day was one big seizure trigger. Fuck.

Now, today, the day after, I am slowly preparing for my first meet and greet appointment with the new psychologist. My last one got too expensive after I switched to Medicare, and this new woman will work on a sliding scale, with my mother willing to help.
brightrosefox: (Default)
http://www.smbc-comics.com/?id=3267

...well, this hit me like a rock to the head. Beautiful and profound. I applaud and I also agree. And this, right here, THIS, THIS is why I don't agree with so many so-called self-help happiness programs. Someone else's source of happiness can never be mine. Ideas are always lovely, word of mouth is a great idea, teaching personal knowledge of happiness is wonderful. But nobody, ever, can tell me how I can find my happiness.
THIS EXPLAINS IT.
BRB, having a moment.

The comic )

You know what it makes me think of? The ugly smugness of those particular people who think that if they just avoid negativity, don't get angry, and insist that we stop "being so angry" and how they seem emotionally superior, a sort of moral superiority, but so insidious. Because it's like the difference between having had a rock in one's head with the rock being dislodged and not having had a rock in one's head at all. If you don't understand someone else's different perspective, there is no fucking way you could truly understand where and why they are feeling how they feel.
It's the way Zach wrote about the difference that the students could not feel, since they never had the teacher's experience. And the teacher couldn't teach the teacher's experience because it was in fact unknown and unrealized. And so the teachings were in fact merely the teacher's perceived feelings and ideas. Which is very nice, but... it's more empty than fulfilling.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Okay, so. Calliope has a daily/nightly habit of coming to me when I'm lying down, snuggling lengthwise against my torso, resting her head in the crook of my arm, and nursing on whatever fabric is available - my shirt or a blanket. Since I've never seen a nursing kitten actually up close, it fascinates and thrills me. I can feel her little tongue doing that flittery thing and those tiny suckling noises are like an anti-anxiety drug. I need to make sure her paws aren't touching my skin, because even clipped the claws still sting.
Now, is this a thing all cats tend to do, or mainly just cats who were weaned early? I know nothing about Calliope's previous days before the humane society, and all they know is that she came in as a stray, beaten up and stuck with burrs, approximately just over one year old. It's possible she was born in a house and the litter was weaned early to be adopted out to new homes, or... similar ideas. I have no idea. She is so trusting that I am almost certain she was a house kitten. She gives me her belly and throat and leans into me with complete security and adoration. I wonder who her Person was before me. She does indeed have Egyptian Mau and a small touch of Abyssinian in those brown classic tabby genes, and her demeanor, behaviors, personality, and traits are so incredibly Mau that I think she may as well be renamed Joanna's Cat-Child. I call her that now, Cat-Child. "Oh, Cat-Child, what to do with you?"
And so my mother believes she needs to quickly grow out of nursing on me directly, but I don't. I want to believe this will be a Thing she keeps doing until she decides to not one day. I just automatically place a hand on her rump or neck and feel fascinatingly motherly while she purrs against my breast.

Also, I can't make the bed right now because cat.



brightrosefox: (Default)
Holy crap, faith in people restored. I asked a taxi driver how to walk to the therapist office, and after he gave me directions, he noticed my cane and then he offered to drive me and show me the exact route. And I quote "I want to spare you some pain and fatigue." When I told him I only had 15 in cash, he said he would take 5 in total regardless of distance and would help me just because he wanted to. Sweetest cabbie ever.

Most intense hypnotherapy so far. I cried. Many emotions and realizations were released. It was fantastic. We shall continue in that focus next week. It is a lot to focus on.
In the meantime, I will try to avoid joining discussions about social justice and socioeconomic issues that make me feel uncomfortable. I need to just walk away and breathe and let it go, and not allow poor internet manners and trolling for fun make me sad.

Oh gods, Dawson's Market. Oh, oh, oh. Tempt Hemp Milk Unsweetened Original. Pumpkin Brownie. Cheesecake Brownie. Lake Champlain Mocha Hot Chocolate Mix. Giovanni Cosmetics 2chic Ultra-Sleek Leave-In Conditioning & Styling Elixir at half price. Organic canned cat food. I love this store. This store is like my best friend in organic market form. Even if I don't buy much, I love everything. In fact, I barely spent anything. Compared to Whole Foods, it has some better things, but Whole Foods has other better things. But Dawson's has hemp milk. Hemp Milk. Hemp. Milk. Nobody else has hemp milk. Or that Mocha Dutch Cocoa Powder. And Dawson's is indeed less expensive. So, yes. Dawson's Market, I love you.

I am really loving Once Upon A Time In Wonderland. I really am watching for any bits that remind me of my epilepsy adventures.

Seriously, that hypnotherapy session. I keep going back to it. I keep remembering how kind, compassionate, and loving Sanaa was when she sent me under and guided me. I keep thinking about what we will do in the next session. This is powerful. This may be the life-changing session.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Oh, hey, my long lost theme song.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/Wmd60Kk9Ljk

Gracefully she's circling higher
She has the wind beneath her wings
And looks down on us, she said

Robbed of my innocence
Had no more time to play
I sure got my feathers burned
But I'm stronger than the flames

Here she comes, here she comes
I've been waiting for so long
Here she comes, rose again from the flames
My little phoenix

Eternity is set in her eyes
Throwing sparks back at the world
That'll never die and I think

She was robbed of her innocence
Had no more time to play
She's only a little girl
But she's stronger than the flames

Here she comes, here she comes
I've been waiting for so long
Here she comes, rose again from the flames
My little phoenix

Here she comes, I've been waiting
For my little phoenix

You've got to get close to the flame
To see what it's made of
You've got to get close to the flame
To see what you are made of

Here she comes, here she comes
I've been waiting for so long
Here she comes, rose again from the flames
My little phoenix

***

This reminds me, fascinatingly, of chronic pain, invisible illness, mental illness, disability, and the struggles of marginalization for a bodymind that is full of monsters.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/yxPMc-XWOZ8

Phantom voices with no words to follow
At the mercy of the cold and hollow
I withdrew into my sanctuary of silence
My defense

In this moment I am just becoming
Liberated from my cell of nothing
No sensation there was only breathing
Overcome oblivion

Falling Awake
From a walking sleep
And all that remains
Is the dying memory
And now I can dive for
These dreams I make
Like I am Falling
I am falling awake

Waves of melodies once forgotten
Like a symphony across the ocean
Never knew that they could hear my calling
Deep within
Crashing in
Rushing in
Like falling

Falling Awake
From a walking sleep
And all that remains
Is the dying memory
And now I can dive for
These dreams I make
Like I am Falling
I am falling awake

There is no returning to that emptiness,
Loneliness
The dream that lives inside of me
Won't fade away, it's wide awake

Falling Awake
From a walking sleep
And all that remains
Is the dying memory
And now I can dive for
These dreams I make
Like I am Falling
I am falling awake

***

And this one, same thing:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdG3ECUC-mE

Whenever I wake up
I'm lost and always afraid
It's never the same place
I close my eyes to escape
The walls around me

And I drift away
Inside the silence
Overtakes the Pain
In my dreams

I feel Immortal
I am not scared
No, I am not scared
I feel immortal
When I am there
When I am there

Whenever I wake up
The shards of us cut within
Always the same day
Frozen all in the fringe
I surrender to the sleep
And leave the hurt behind me
There's no death to fear
In my dreams

I feel Immortal
I am not scared
No, I am not scared
I feel immortal
When I am there
When I am there

So far or right beside me
So close but they can't find me
Slowly, time forgets me
I'm lonely, only dreaming

I feel Immortal
I am not scared
No, I am not scared
I feel immortal
When I am there
When I am there

***

And for my new friends in disability and invisible illness, I present my number one theme song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJnCHctOeJg

Smash glass against the wall
Curse the music on the radio that the neighbours play.
Door slams, she turns her head
Watches through the window as he pulls away
Funny how your racing brain drives you so mad
When all the while you feel so numb
Too old to be clean far too young to be broken
Like an army we come

Cut back, left behind
I watched you self-destructing oh so many times
Shot down, once again
Sitting in a chair crying what am I going to do with my life?
Just learn to hide the way that you really feel
Never let them know that you're scared
But understand that you're not the special only one
Watch us now, watch us real close

How we all dance with this fire 'cause it's all that we know
And as the spotlight turns toward us, we all try our best to show
We are lost we are freaks, we are crippled, we are weak
We are the heirs, we are the true heirs, to all the world

Let's go build a fire down on the empty beach when the waves are crashing high
White heat purify, as the sparks fly up into the great black sky
Sacrifice these crutches to the crackling flames
Stand as silhouettes against the dawn
It's far too late to try to sleep now, seems I'm never tired any more

I want to dance with this fire 'cause it's all that I know
We are lost we are freaks
And we try our best to show
I am lost
I'm a freak ha ha.

***

Depression Monster is still wrapped around me, steel claws and silver grin, but I am fighting and fighting, and I have many spears.

Husband returned from New Orleans around one-thirty this morning. Rose and Jupiter immediately climbed on him and we all fell asleep in a snuggling pile.
Later today, errands! Petco Unleashed with coupons for Blue food and litter. Trader Joe's for cookies, whole milk yogurt, chocolate hemp powder, trail mix, pumpkin cereal bars, fairytale pumpkins. Dollar Store for calendars. H-Mart for produce and foods from outside North America.
Had a lovely chat near the with from a guy who was from Jamaica, who extolled the virtues of awesome iron-rich burro bananas and said that his grandmother, who ate them every day on The Island, was 130. She probably did lots of things. The man himself looked barely 40 but he could have been 50. I asked him which bunches of burro bananas looked best. Yay, snacks.
And we got a pure honey nut spread, roasted seaweed snack packs, tamarind paste, demerara sugar (4 lbs for under 5 bucks), black plums, pomegranates, red leaf lettuce, and stuff I forget now.
I have taken more medication to ease this pain, I have meditated with cartoon comedy to beat back the Depression Monster, and I now will get back to writing.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Sniffle. That was a very good finale.
Thanks, Futurama.

(I mean, unless it comes back again again. It's the only series finale that is open ended.)
brightrosefox: (Default)
Why is it that, in most dreams where I am in physical danger, I am unable to scream or move quickly?
My last dream involved a bad fall and crash at the top of the stairs, while a large group of people were downstairs having a small quiet party. Something supernatural was with me, something insidious. I grabbed the stair ledge and pulled myself up to a kneeling position. I yelled my husband's name, but it was only a whisper. I couldn't call for help, not with the shadowy creature surrounding me. I was moving so slowly. It felt as though nobody was in the house but me, me and the cats.
And abruptly, I realized that nobody was in the house. Adam was at work. There was no party. The cats were all downstairs. It was only me and the shadow entity. I struggled to call on my internal resources, my spirit guardians, but even my psychic voice was muffled. I was not afraid. I was determined. I was badly injured, and I only had myself, and my powers to create weapons and defenses were drained. I stopped trying to stand. I knelt there and mouthed words, calling on the water in the bathroom, the air circulating around the house, the earth under the house, the fire downstairs used to light the gas stove. I pulled in all into me, and with a desperate burst, I unleashed it. The shadow creature shrieked and vanished.
Without any warning at all, the house filled with presence again. There was that quiet downstairs party. I whispered my husband's name again, struggling to turn it into a cry. Someone must have heard. Adam came up the stairs and found me, sagging against the door of the bathroom, my nose bleeding. He spoke to me. He half-carried me to the bedroom and helped me lie down. He brought damp towels and tissues and water with electrolytes. I managed, somehow, to tell him that a negative spirit had entered the house and stole my strength, and I pulled all the elemental power I could to drive it away. He was very proud but also puzzled, since the house was supposed to be powerfully shielded and guarded. I was crying but I didn't mean to cry. It was just a reaction without intention. He stroked my hair and curled up with me, and me took my hand and fed me energy and power and strength, and he said, "Go to sleep, my darling. I'll be monitoring you through our psychic bond and everything will be okay. I will strengthen the wards." He needed to check on our friends. He would back be up soon.
The dream ended there.

It has been something of a recurring thing: My slowness in dreams. My exquisite agony in dreams. My whispering words in dreams. Sometimes I can barely walk for the pain in my hips and knees. Sometimes I can only speak with thoughts instead of physical words. Sometimes my body is wrapped in a floating translucent shell and it is the only way I can move. In my dreams, the pain is so much worse than in reality. But I have access to weapons of all kind and I feel safe, even if something horrible grabs me.

When I was a child, I had flying dreams every night. Even astral projection. Like my father and cousins in their younger years. And if a harmful person appeared, I just waved my right hand fiercely, shouting "Shoo! Shoo!" to make then disappear.

When I was a child, I dreamed of dragons, of ancient tortoises, of unicorns mixed with white tigers, of phoenix birds with feathers of every color. Dragons have never been dangerous to me. Even if some were, there were always other dragons who were benevolent.

It is why I always bristle when I read an article comparing chronic pain to dragons. The only way I can see such battles happening is dragon against dragon. And I am a human amalgam of dragon, phoenix, tortoise, unicorn, white tiger, and fae, wrapped in the skin of a moonlight witch.

Then, why do my dreams cripple me? The only reason I can think of is to teach me to use the insides, the powers coming from my spirit and not my body. My body is very important and vital to me. But perhaps not so much in my dreams.

And I think this piece of art, beyond anything, is one of the greatest ways I can understand myself. Every time I look at it, I weep. I even have that same cane. I know Shinga and I barely know each other, but she knows chronic pain. She knows what being a warrior means. She was in the US Army and was badly injured and treated so poorly during therapy that she has severe PTSD. She is disabled badly. She knows battles. And I want to hold her and hold her and tell her what this means to me.

http://shinga.deviantart.com/art/Awaken-Warrior-and-Rise-378439320
awaken__warrior__and_rise_by_shinga-d69b9nc
(Note: Please please refer to Shinga before borrowing or using this image. Please use the Deviant Art link. This is her work. Copyright Shinga. The only reason I displayed the actual image was in case someone can't click on the link.)
brightrosefox: (Default)
Today is my eighth wedding anniversary. Adam is currently working in Manhattan but should be home late tonight, if not tomorrow. That's common - most years, he's working out of town on an anniversary or birthday. We just celebrate when he comes home. Money needs to be made and bills need to be paid, after all. And we did just put a lot of money into repairing and remodeling our home. Happy anniversary indeed! My present to him will be a cleaner house, with Charlotte's superhero help. Needed desperately since I awoke with a postictal migraine, a pulled muscle in my neck, spasticity all around, and sciatica like whoa. *shrug* The shower helped. Ah, pain relief and muscle relaxant pills. Of many kinds. Good, good.

After the vacuuming, I will rest and try not to damage any other part (ha).
brightrosefox: (Default)
http://naamah-darling.livejournal.com/623299.html
Seriously, you guys. Seriously. *points* This woman. This woman is awesome. She is AMAZING. All her custom ponies are amazing; they are fantastic, they are extraordinary.
But I think she and I can both say with total confident honesty that Serenity is the best. (Okay, the best so far. But still.) And Serenity belongs to ME, because this woman made her JUST FOR ME. As a special gift.
And she knew she was doing it even before I told her I was considering requesting a custom since they are pricey and I wanted to save up money. And there she was smirking and giggling smugly because I had no idea, and then I got Serenity in the mail and I cried and sobbed so hard because the happiness and joy was overwhelming.
And now Serenity is literally imbued with my magic, and I love her more than any toy I have received in my adult life...
And seriously, people, you should seriously consider Namaah's ponies. She is absolutely incredible.
But Serenity is still the best. Truth. *nods*
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151406320840684.1073741827.640545683&type=1

And still, whenever I feel anxious and upset and depressed, I just touch the lotus bud symbol on her forehead, and I actually honestly feel better.

Edited to add:

Serenity the pony called to me, so decided to take a photo to show how much I adore her.

I have not loved a toy so much since I was a teenager. I cannot thank [livejournal.com profile] naamah_darling enough for creating and naming this pony just for me. This may be one of the most perfect toy gifts I have gotten in my adult life.

Serenity has been charged and imbued with as much personal magic energies as I could give her. She is now a method of helping me work with physical, emotional, and psychic self stimming in a weird way.
I talk to her during episodes of anxiety and depression; I kiss the lotus bud blaze on her forehead when I say goodnight. I brush her hair with wood combs and boar brushes. It relaxes me.

She soothes my brain and centers my mind in ways I cannot explain. She is a toy, custom made... but she is special beyond description.





It doesn't matter how old or young you are. There will always be some sort of toy or physical object that represents something important, something life-like or abstract or surreal, that you bond to deeply.
brightrosefox: (Default)
So, a couple of months ago, I was chatting with [livejournal.com profile] naamah_darling about her fabulous custom made My Little Pony dolls, which she paints herself with her own designs and even new hair. She sells them on Ebay for reasonably understandably high prices, because they are really extraordinary and unique.
I casually mentioned that one day, when I could afford it, I'd love a custom pony for myself. The matter was dropped.
And then a week or so ago, on Facebook, Naamah mentioned on Facebook that she was sending me a package. Since I've been sending her care packages full of skin care and supplements, I figured it was something similar, like a thank you. I didn't realize how anxious and excited she seemed about my receiving the package.

A couple of days ago, the box arrived. I opened it up and found the card first, with a glittery dragonfly on the cover. I opened it and on the left it read:

"Funny you should talk about a custom..."
And my heart kind of skipped.
And on the right it read:
"It took me a while to figure out her name, but it turned out to be so simple once she told me.
Serenity.
I made her thinking of you start to finish. She's all yours. She'll be a friend who can always be there for you and remind you that you are never alone.
Hope you love her. <3"

And even before I pulled away the paper wrappings, I was crying. And when I had the pony in my hands, and I saw her flank symbol, I cried even harder, murmuring "Oh my gods, oh my gods, she did this for me, she made this for me, oh my gods, this is amazing, this is so beautiful, oh oh oh..."

Because I had seen a photo, on Naamah's Livejournal, months ago, of this pony being painted, and I had instantly been pulled toward it, wishing it could be mine...
And here she is.
Meet Serenity.
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151406320840684.1073741827.640545683&type=1

Every morning, I look directly at her when I wake up, and she makes me smile. It is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Honestly, I don't think I can express it in words. Just... incredible. Love you, Naamah.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Our contractor, Victor Faustino, arrived with swatches for new carpet and new sheet vinyl and our estimate. The price is only a couple thousand over State Farm's payment, which will come out of our tax refund - funny how life works out like that. Happy birthday, we're getting a new kitchen. Dark granite-like kitchen floor, dark gray carpet, honey brown cabinets. Victor was awesome; we had long talks about all sorts of things. I would recommend him. We gave him a bag of dried goji berries.

Adam then took me to the CVS in the Gaithersburg Square center, where I picked up several hair serums - much needed now that my hair is getting longer. (Nubian Heritage Indian Hemp & Tamanu Grow & Strengthen Serum as well as the matching conditioner; Optimum Salon 6-in-1 Miracle Oil; Motions Salon Naturally You Radiant Gloss. Chosen for their ingredients, such as argan, bamboo, neem, tamanu, biotin, shea, avocado, coconut. With the coupons, we saved just under twenty dollars.

We then went to H-Mart, and luckily we found seasonally rare soft shell crabs, which we shall deep fry, because the fryer also still has bacon grease. Dinner shall be awesome. I also grabbed that awesome Real Beanz Energize Coffee and Coco Cafe coconut water coffee in Mocha - Mocha has the best taste. They also had Bai5 coffeefruit juices and BodyArmor energy juices for half price. Grand Mart may have the wonderful whole milk Indian yogurt, but H-Mart has... all the other stuff.

I know I had put other things on my list, but they became unnecessary. I was just happy enough to spend time with the husband before he had to go off to work for several days once again.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Adam and Luna.
She really is such a precious and royal cat to us.
And she adores him so so much.


brightrosefox: (Default)
I hate making cryptic posts.
But I must, because Something is starting to happen, and a Thing is unfolding, and there are Tasks I must accomplish...
And I am so scared I cannot stop shaking. I am writing for my life. I have to finish it. What if it's not worthy? They say it is. This is the Big Leagues. This is SO Fucking Huge. I cannot even.
I can't think.
I can only write.
Oh my gods.
I have to write.
And take more Klonopin and Passionflower.
I might lose my mind.

I'm so sorry. I can't say anything else. Maybe in private.
I've never been this excited, overjoyed, overwhelmed, and terrified all at once.
I'll manage. I'll get through.
Just breathe.
Just breathe.

JUST WRITE, WRITER, WRITE.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Ah, a story to flesh out. With... help, maybe?
This is a story I've been tinkering with for a bit, which I put away for a bit, and I found it again, and and and I really want to continue it and finish it. Short story, novella, small novel, I don't know. Would someone be willing to help??

Read more... )
brightrosefox: (Default)
Holy Gaia's Eyes, you guys, I finally figured out how to move the novel along more quickly. I finally wrote that one sentence - just one sentence - that broke through that blank wall of "Well, fuck, now what happens?" that many writers struggle with.
And now I'm several paragraphs past that. This is the first time I've managed to do that since summer. This is such an insanely massive personal breakthrough that I want to celebrate. But we already have cake and ice cream, so I'll just mark the day and I'll just keep on writing until fatigue begs me to stop.

And to think, all it took was for me to make the antagonist notice the main female protagonist's purple tourmaline engagement ring, which should have helped psychically protect her but didn't, because they're all powerful psychics there and can do what they want. Now to make her fiance suffer that broken neck a little more.

Seriously, though, I want to hug myself and cry a little.

Funny thing? I am in a violent amount of pain today, so severe that I really cannot to much other than type and type and pour my frustration and mood out into documents. Well, then.

To writing! *whiskey shot*
brightrosefox: (Default)
How you know you can tolerate and love me:
Get comfortable and preferably join in while I watch the Futurama episode "Where No Fan Has Gone Before" on repeat while mouthing the dialogue, while I also wonder out loud what it must have been like for the actors in the recording studio, such as who messed up the most takes by laughing so much. Plus all the inside jokes.
And then I shall start talking about animated versions of Babylon 5. Especially certain characters' heads in jars at the Head Museum. Because, you know, Walter Koenig. And the comment about "Look at Walter Koenig. After Star Trek, he became an actor." Smirk, cough Alfred Bester Psi Corp cough*
And then, of course, get comfortable while I start Netflixing Babylon 5. And later, My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic. You think I'm kidding.
This is not the height of my nerdity, but it is close.
Also, I still need to find that Bab5 Psi Corp book series. Hello, Ebay, maybe?
brightrosefox: (Default)
chakradragon


I know Pantheism and Polytheism often conflict, but I am a proud pantheistic polytheistic polyagnostic eclectic moonlight witch.
(Also, a Peaceful Dragon Mediterranean Princess Warrior, which is neither here nor there.)

And I am very fluid in my faith and philosophy, which means I enjoy discussing faith in general, so long as I am not proselytized at.
 
(It's funny. As soon as I mention that I am ethnically Jewish and spiritually Pagan, the proselytizing ends with nary a complaint. I am ethnically Jewish with a heritage of Sicilian, Greek, Russian, Romanian, Hungarian. And I am proud. But not so proud that I announce it every time something involving one of those ethnicity comes up.
I know people like that. Especially if they are, say 1/16 said ethnicity. Yes, dears. It's lovely that you have such rich heritage with a few drops of that ethnic blood; now please stop telling me how wonderful you are because of it.)

Finding this image was amazing. I had a dream about it in early 2012, and I don't even remember how I found the image online. Ah, Higher Brain and Subconscious, and Quantum Psychic Consciousness, I love it when you work together.

This image is ideal: I like dragons. And lotus flowers. And the moon. And the cosmos. And transcendental meditation. And magic. And the concept that all consciousness is connected, with no need to use religion to connect to the cosmic parts.

We are all made of the universe."We are the universe trying to understand itself" like Carl Sagan said.

And as Delenn from Babylon 5 says:
"The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make this station and the nebula outside, that burn inside the stars themselves. We are star-stuff. We are the Universe, made manifest, trying to figure itself out. And, as we have both learned, sometimes the Universe needs a change of perspective."
-Delenn, 'A Distant Star' episode of 'Babylon 5'
brightrosefox: (Default)
Dear Lovelies:
Not only am I feeling so much better, I truly believe I am worth everything that people say I am. I've been getting messages, emails, phone calls, and comments from friends who have told me what I mean to them. I've been amazed and heartened and lifted and joyous.
I may be a moonlight witch, but I can't access the moon without accessing the magic of the sun. I feel bright and powerful and in full bloom, like a great lotus blossom beneath the full moon.
brightrosefox: (Default)
Well, what do you know. The pain specialist nurse informed me that my stabby electric knee pain is totally a symptom of fibromyalgia. And it took me saying "Wait, really? Seriously? Are you sure?" before she started laughing. Also, my stabby electric wrist pains are a symptom of ulnar entrapment, and the doctors are going to give me a nerve test and then suggest specific exercises and braces for my elbow. Also, the nurse wants me to go to a physical therapy place that focuses on fibromyalgia. That thrills me. It's like, "YES! People really get it!"

So now I can add the thing that has annoyed me forever: When someone honks and cat-calls at me while they are barreling down the road especially in the opposite direction, what the fuck are they trying to do? I'm not going to respond. They'
re not going to slow down or stop (please gods no). What. Is. The. Fucking. Point? WHY?
It's funny. I HAVE been asked out by men and women in vehicles parked or slowed while I was walking, and they were always pleasant when I said I was married. Literally, "Hey! Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend? or Are you married? Yes? Aw, I got here too late. Well, you have a good day!" And they would smile kindly and move on. I mean, yes, it is still weird, but it's not harassment. If I'd said I was unattached, they would have asked me out, and we might have chatted for a bit. But they were at least polite. People who yell out wildly are so fucking creepy it gives me chills.
http://brutereason.net/2012/10/14/on-men-who-think-street-harassment-would-be-awesome/

The thing that really really made my day like forever: A pain specialist nurse saying that fibromyalgia really can produce crazy evil symptoms just by being fibromyalgia, and that nurse recommending a very specific fibromyalgia physical therapist. I mean, truly, that made me so fucking happy I could cry. If only every fibromyalgia patient could have it like this.
Spears raised.

Sally Hansen Nailgrowth Miracle Nail Polish in Forbidden Fudge.
You guys, my nails look like gold infused dark chocolate. I don't know if this will increase or decrease my chocolate cravings. Probably just make me smile while eating chocolate.
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fX--nOoiv6w/TRDk1MZtDnI/AAAAAAAABqc/4q5SfcGPK8o/s1600/Picture+023.jpg
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fX--nOoiv6w/TRDk2sGx_fI/AAAAAAAABqk/gc0SxessJ7s/s1600/Picture+026.jpg
Also, the Nailgrowth Miracle Polish in Divine Wine is still my favorite, but Forbidden Fudge is close. Divine Wine is bloody wine red with gold shimmer like my lipsticks, Forbidden Fudge is dark chocolate brown with gold shimmer like my hair color. Awesome.

So, I've discovered that I prefer wood bristle hairbrushes and boar bristle mixed with plastic or wood bristles, and metal bristle brushes. They all work so much better than regular plastic brushes. Ionic, cermaic, and tourmaline infusions are also awesome. The brand Goody has a couple of gorgeous plastic boar mix bristle ionic and ceramic brushes that are fairly cheap. When I can, I go to Ulta or Whole Foods and go for Olivia Garden brushes and Bass Brushes. And a dear friend mailed me some small Widu wood brushes that are stupidly expensive but seriously amazing.

Dear "Endlessly" by Kiersten White: I know I've been promising to read you since the end of July when you were released, but I got so distracted by other books; I am so sorry. People kept shoving books at me, and I kept finding new shiny books, and and... I know those are bad excuses, but I promise that this time I will read you, because I love you, and I have loved you since "Paranormalcy" and because I have so many other books to read but I swore I would finish you first.
Dear Self and Friends: No more book recommendations, no more new to me books, no more shiny books to adore until I am finished with the one book I promised to finish three months ago.
I'm glad that's out in the open now.

Seriously, though, honestly, I am so fucking thrilled about my discussion with Nurse Mary. She is so very knowledgable and helpful about fibromyalgia, cerebral palsy, and nerve pains. She smiles all the time. She really really wants to help me. She hugs me. She wants to see me every month, and also because she likes me. I like you too, Nurse Mary.

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