I was looking forward to 2010 being a relatively sane, normal, non-traumatic year aside from the hormone-induced panic attacks. I am beginning to believe that some deity is out to get me and everyone I know… or at the very least a demi-god with a bad case of hemorrhoids.
read the rest of 2010, right up there with 2007, ’08
Well, at the risk of people thinking we’re douchebags, I thought I’d mention that we have kittens. Thurien is still missing and we needed something to distract ourselves from remembering that he is gone. The lady down the street does not have him. I’m just going to presume that we’ve lost him for good. It does no good to keep calling out the front door every night. The signs we put up were of no help. The neighbors have not seen him. We’ve not found his body or remains anywhere. He’s just gone. Like he never existed. It’s better to believe him dead than suffering somewhere. I hope it was quick and that he did not suffer. It kills me that he’s gone but I’m still fragile after Dad and so many relatives dying that I just don’t want to have to think about another death this soon.
read the rest of Moving On
I didn’t want to post here until I was certain but Thurien is now missing, presumed stolen. He got out Thursday morning, unbeknownst to us and has not been seen since. We are presuming him stolen because there is a mentally-handicapped woman in town famous for stealing people’s cats. She puts out food for strays and she stole the cat of a friend of our family. We have not gone to ask her if she got a new kitty or not as of yet because we have not found her to home.
We’ve both been wrecks. Thury is like a son to Kal, his favorite cat, his little boy. Without him in the house, it seems like colors are missing from the world. I’m really hoping he comes back but I am not banking on it either.
Uncle’s memorial ceremony affected me more yesterday than I thought. They also mentioned him playing golf in (celestial abode of your choice) with my father and that just sent me crashing. Also, I am very tired of the over casket conversions and the assumptions of faith that I’ve seen various preachers of the Christian Faith pull at these memorial services. It sickens me vastly that they would use something that is supposed to celebrate the life of the deceased to try and terrify people into either converting to their religion or more closely following the ways of their sect. The assumption that the deceased was a member of their sect or that they followed the prevailing religion here is also disgusting, as it the smarmy way that they sometimes claim to have known the deceased or knew their mind. I get it- Memorials are for the living and mostly they arrange them to comfort themselves (I did not, hence my total disgust at the rent-a-reverend that tried to convert people over Dad’s casket and assumed the level and direction of his faith) but it’s flirting with lies and hypocrisy, some of the stuff I’ve had to witness.
I had thought myself further along the coping spectrum with Dad’s death. I’m unsure if I need to revise my thoughts about where I am or if it’s just that such an event will trigger me in that way. I had felt better about it until that service. I feel that I’ve slid back somewhat now.
read the rest of Backsliding
I just got up this morning and was sitting at the computer trying to take care of guild business when I heard the front door. The only person who lets themselves into my house without calling or knocking is mother, so I stood up from the computer, rolling my eyes because she always picks the most inconvenient times to come over to tell me stupid things I could care less about. Only this time it wasn’t so stupid and I actually pretty much cared.
Uncle Nile passed away.
Apparently he had decided at the first of the year that he was not going to take any more chemo treatments for his liver cancer and just do palliative care. Not that it was any of our business but he did not tell any of us that he had decided to pass over. I can’t say “give up”, having been in excruciating pain myself for nearly a year- there just comes a time when you’re worn down so much that you can’t fight any more- you don’t want to fight any more. He got to that point, I guess. I can’t say that I blame him- chemo is some nasty stuff. I almost wish that Dad had decided to take palliative care himself instead of chemo as I believe he would have had an easier death than being poisoned to death with those chemicals and then drugged up so he’d shut up. But he thought it was his best chance at living, so that’s what he tried. Anyway.
read the rest of Goodbye Uncle
Well, I did manage to meet my short story quota for the year, so that is nice. Right now I am not mired down in grieving, so that is also good. I am, however, angry. But what is new?
Now then.
My mother has gone insane. For some reason she has taken to telling me that my pets will die- yanno, as if that had never occurred to me- every time we talk. First, she could be led away from the topic, but slowly she has become relentless in mashing the point into my skull like an enormous railroad spike. I finally asked her why she was doing it but she simply ran out the front door before I could impress upon her how hurtful it is to keep confronting someone with such a thing, even if it will happen in the future. She ran. Came over yesterday and though she was a little colder than usual, she never apologized, just pretended that she had never hurt me. Yes, it hurt me. Those cats mean the world to me. No, I don’t really think that was the right way to go about getting me to visit you. Imagine that. If you hurt someone and don’t apologise, they don’t really want to come over and have talkies- especially if they are rightly afraid that you will trot out your new flogging horse while they are there.
read the rest of Good and Irrational
So um. The guild blew up again, only this time I was in the middle of it. I don’t want to rehash something I’ve hashed far too much but let us suffice it to say again- I will not be treated poorly in order for asshats to progress. We’ve had far too many people crapping on each other, the buck stopped with me, and I’m no longer raiding. Will I raid again? Right now it’s a big fat NO. As far as I’m concerned, several people can take their Black Temple and their Archimonde and their attitudes and shove them up their arses sideways. Some seemed to think Eloric and I were kidding when we made our post that included people’s poor attitudes until it happened in voice chat. Just because it’s the internet and you don’t know many people personally- it’s no reason to drop common civility even though you feel like a robot doing it. Oh, and if you’re drunk, maybe you shouldn’t be in vent, especially if you’re an officer who likes to hear your own voice.
This happened like two weeks ago and I debated quitting altogether. I didn’t play for oh, say, around a week or so and then I rolled a slew of (mostly Alliance) characters on two different servers. The highest I have is a lvl 16 goatadin, a level 14 belf priest, and a lvl 13 orc hunter. I also have various alliance paladins, hunters, mages, rogues, and the lvl 8 male human warlock I rolled to laugh at when he runs. The male human run is so corny. My lvl 36 troll hunter doesn’t count because she’s on a PvP server… the last thing I want is to be ganked when I’m trying to zone out. That’s a little more attention than I’m willing to pay right now. Heh.
I also wanted to announce that I will be out of it for a while. Sunday marks the one year anniversary of Dad’s passing and I’ve already been acting out as it is. I’ll answer all e-mail and whatnot um… soonish or something. I owe two people responses that I know of.
I joined a grief discussion board about a week ago and managed to post the entire story about Dad, which is what they asked you to do. I made a few comments trying to help on others’ posts but it’s like I’m not there to the members of the board at all. It’s like a circle jerk of grief and I’m not worthy enough to come yank my emotions out with them. The board looked to be the best, most compassionate one I could find but the people there are all regulars and personally, I don’t want to have to scrape at the door like a desperate cat caught out in the rain to get attention from these self-absorbed ninnies. That’s probably unfair to call them names, since grief makes people self-centered (HI!) but it makes me feel better to poke at them for shunning the outsider. I’m not banging my head against a wall with those people any more. In this day and age, a week is long enough to have read a post and commented if you gave a crap at all.
I’ve read that the second year after a loved one’s death is harder than the first because the protective numbness is gone. I can vouch for that… though it hasn’t been quite a year yet. I’m still in the middle of my first big “grief attack”. I’m all screwed up again. I cried until I gave myself sinus problems and frankly, if someone looked at me wrong today, I’d probably try to strangle them.
is married. multifaith/hybrid faith. certified food handler.
author. poet. otherkin. INFJ/INTJ. type 4. loathes wal*mart and her state government. adores 
cats, trees, earthsea, history,reading, coffee houses, and world music. david gray. boney james. mercan dede. hates having celiac disease. Interstitial Cystitis.
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Love in a Torn Land: Joanna of Kurdistan: The True Story of a Freedom Fighter’s Escape from Iraqi V by Jean Sasson
