Pretending to be alright

A lot of times, it’s hard to be honest if you’re not okay. I know I tell dozens of people every day that I’m great, but it’s not always the entire truth.

Some things are also easier to explain than others, not only because most things are subjective in the first place, but because some things aren’t quantifiable. 

No matter how common your ailments​ or how rare, everyone experiences things differently. 

Today I’m not pretending. It’s not a good day. There aren’t enough Spoons, and the right side of my lower body can’t decide if it wants to tingle and go numb or scream in pain. I’d rather neither, but something tells me that my body doesn’t give a fuck about my opinion. 

C’est la vie, I guess. Let’s just get today over with. 

~R

Good days and bad days

When you have any kind of mental illness, there are good days and bad days; obviously this happens to everyone but it seems like those of us with mental illness feel the difference more acutely. 

If you’re not familiar with Spoon Theory feel free to check it out, because it’s a helpful way to explain things on bad days. Props go to The Bloggess (Jenny Lawson) for educating me on the subject. 

Sometimes I go so long between my mini-bouts of depression, that it almost seems to have disappeared. But like glitter, there’s always more hiding somewhere. 

Luckily I’m able to recognize the signs and can ration out my spoons as required to help me not fall as far down the Pit of Despair. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not easy. Not by a long shot, but most things worthwhile challenge you to meet them head-on. 

I still fall into the Pit of Despair on a semi-regular basis; the cocktail of issues going on in my head make sure of that, but knowing yourself and being kind to yourself are two of the best strategies that I’ve found. 

My Counselor Katherine often talks about capacity, and how we can​ only handle so much before everything starts to spill over and you lose control. She tells me to make time for myself and to make myself a priority. I emphasized the words because she does too. 

As something a little different, I have a challenge for all of you; try to following​ Katherine’s advice, and see if it helps you as much as it helps me. 

Today I didn’t have many spoons, so I watched some TV and had a nap with Dorian instead of cleaning the bathrooms. 

No regrets. 

~R

Another day, another rant

I know I’ve been kinda ranty lately, but some things have been pissing me off too much to stay quiet. 

Here it comes. 

TAKE SOME FUCKING PRIDE IN YOUR WORK!!! 

This applies to everyone, in all situations. Whether you’re working for money, as part of a trade, or volunteering your time, give it your all. 

Seriously. 

There are some days when 2pm hits and I really don’t want to go to work, but I go and I give it 100%. Even if my mind wants to be elsewhere, from 5-9pm it’s work time, and the mind has no choice. Sure I goof off sometimes, but we all do that, and the vast majority of us make sure that work gets done first. 

It doesn’t just impact your own performance either, it affects those around you. If one person gets away with less than their best effort, more often than not, others will notice and not want to work as hard to match the efforts of their peers. I’ve seen it happen in more than one workplace.

Even if you hate your job, remember that your work is a direct reflection of the image you portray to the world. 

Just try folks, it won’t kill you. 

~R

Gardening without a Green Thumb

Some people are good with plants, and some people aren’t. I fall into the latter category. Oftentimes it’s joked that I have a Brown Thumb, the exact opposite of the Green variety. 

Nevertheless, it’s been a few years since we had our balcony garden and I’m determined to be a big part of it this year!!! 

Starting with the seeds! We had a bunch of kinds from before, but I thought that we could mix it up a bit and add some new vegetables. This year we’re planting beans, carrots, cucumbers, buttercrunch lettuce, 2 kinds of tomatoes, baby watermelons and strawberries! Hopefully by the end of the summer we have a nice little harvest, because there is nothing like fresh vegetables that you grew yourself! 

I also bought some little peat pots to start the seeds in, some potting soil and plant food. Figuring out what to get was more difficult than you would think. 

Don’t forget, I’m not so good with plants. 

Hunter was excited to help at first; then he figured out that there’s more to gardening than he thought, and promptly peaced the fuck out. 

Thanks again, kid. This is all very reminiscent of the Egg House. 

Look at them all!!!

It took a while, but there are now​ 46 peat pots with seeds planted in them on our kitchen shelves!!! 

No joke, that is the most gardening I have ever done at once! 

Now we wait. 

~R

Not going crazy during holidays

Wanna know my secret to not going 100% guano-loco during any holiday? 

This may be hard for some people to grasp, so just try to keep an open mind. 

Modesty. 

Don’t wanna deal with your kids running around like some sort of feral beasts because they’re so hopped up on sugar? Then don’t give them a mountain of fucking candy and expect them to use restraint. *Halloween is the obvious exception due to the whole door-to-door-scoring-candy aspect, but at least you can hide most of it once they go to bed*

Does your kid already have a room full of toys they don’t play with? Perhaps ease up on the unspoken social media competition and don’t buy so much shit. 

Don’t want to spend all day trapped in the kitchen cooking a feast and then all evening doing dishes? Then don’t. Have chicken nuggets and fries and go to the park instead. Your kids will probably enjoy that a lot more. 

I’m well aware that this post is probably going to piss some people off. Good. I don’t fucking care. If you don’t like what I have to say, then move along and go read something else. Maybe come back when I’m a little less ragey. 

This rant is fueled by a brief foray into my newsfeed today. 4 posts were enough for me to say “Fuck. This. Shit.” and go do something else. 

Seriously. 

~R

Fuck Easter. 

Every year there is inevitably a rant about Easter. 

The commercialization of it, the fucking extra day the government/banks feel they’re entitled to, and, let’s not even get me going on the Christians-taking-Pagan-holidays-and-suddenly-having-something-WAY-MORE-IMPORTANT-happen. 

Full disclosure on that last bit though; I know basically nothing about Jesus. But the fact that the day he was crucified is called Good Friday has always seemed just a touch ironic. 

This year my issue lies with when the Easter Bunny makes his appearance. 

Why does he come Saturday night? 

Why not Sunday night? It makes more sense from a there’s-a-whole-other-day-to-fill point of view. 

Unless of course Easter Monday is really just a ploy so that the banks and government offices can get another day off. Probably to escape from Zombie Jesus. 

Jesus was a Zombie, right? Or did I misunderstand the whole Rising on the Third Day thing? Because that’s definitely a possibility. Again though, I know almost nothing about Jesus. 

Except that whole water into wine bit. That I know about, and would really like to figure out how he managed to pull it off. Can you even imagine how lucrative that could be? 

I’d start a business where people bring me water bottles and I work my Voodoo and they pay me lots of dollars! 

Customer- “Why can’t you do a Merlot?”

Me- “A: Red is too inconspicuous, and B: I don’t know how. White or nothing, Lady.” 

Wow, this has totally gone off in another direction. I’m actually kind of impressed at the random garbage that spews out of my head sometimes! 

~R

Dollarama crafts are fucking hard, man

Around any holiday, Dollarama is the place to go for inexpensive crafts for kids. Especially considering the fact that most kids ignore any directions and just do what they want. 

Except for Hunter today. 

He was determined that the Egg House kit we got would look like the picture. He also decided that I was the best person for the job. 

Thanks kid. 

Not only were all the foam shapes cut out by some piece of drunken Asian machinery, but they’re also flimsy as shit. 

My only saving grace was the little glitter flowers that hid some of the complete fuckery that was the Egg House. 

Don’t let the happy appearance fool you

In the end it got done, and he’s very proud of the job I did; surprisingly enough he’s not even trying to take the credit! 

~R