Covid and Writer's Block

 I literally can only sit home right now. So I decided to pick up where I left off on my story: The Hill House Continuation (I swear I'll find the title one day lol}

However, where I left off was IN THE MIDDLE OF A SENTENCE!! Woman, why?? I don't remember where I was going, nor do I really remember how I got to where I am. I don't believe in outlining or planning, but I know I had a point to that paragraph and where did it go nope gone.

I really want to finish this "book" (I'm hoping it'll be long enough) so that I can say I did, and maybe publish it. But right now I sit here staring at a screen and picturing that giant wood block from Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium. Effffffff.

What Could Have Been... All The Feelings

 What would have happened had you not left me behind?

Would we have a great romance?

Would you use me up and discard me?

Would we have never ventured past friends?

Did you feel for me the way I felt for you?

Or was I still just your annoying "kid sister"?

Did I ever cross your mind randomly?

Or was it shocking when we talked?

Why didn't you stay home?

Why didn't you wait for me?

HOW DARE YOU?!

I'm still broken.

WTF

I'm really upset that I will never read your texts again.

Or call your phone.

Or anything.

It's all in my head, in my dreams.

Until we meet again, darling.

I will think of what could have been.

Today Is A Day I Cry... and the story that has never been told.

 8 years ago, I lost a great person. But he is with me every day.

8 years ago, I felt such pain at losing this person, this constant pain in my ass. I don't know that anyone knew how much I loved this kid, myself included. 

I remember the first time I saw him. I was waiting for the bus to NYSP (sports camp, a place I really did not belong lol) and this idiot pops his head out the front door SCREAMING about running late. From that moment, he annoyed the crap out of me. I know that I didn't really interact with him much during camp (they split the sexes up), but I vaguely recall a dance where we circled each other.

Flash forward a year, and we moved into the apartment next to him. We shared a wall for about 4 (I think?) years. During that time, we became almost like siblings... i.e. we made each other's lives hell lol. We'd fight constantly, I caught him stealing his mom's truck, we'd bang on the walls at each other, and play music to annoy the other. But, there were times, so few, that we would sit on the porch and just chill. 

I remember that one of my friends had a crush on him, and did... questionable things. Then, when she asked me why he blew her off, I said he's a damn asshole. (Reality, we were freaking 16. He's a teen boy, of course he wasn't interested) I learned way too much about him that day, and it took a while to look at him the same. 

Over the years, we both moved and grew. Somehow we reconnected as friends. We never hung out, but did talk a lot, or at least I felt we did considering how we started out. He went down quite a few wrong paths, and struggled to pull himself out. He had just gotten out of jail (in there to get clean I believe) and he messaged me. We were trying to find a time to meet up, and I missed the last message... The next day he was in a medically induced coma with swelling on the brain. From what I gather, he went out with some "friends" to a bad place to do bad things, and got jumped. They left him for dead, and a few days later, he was.

While he was in the coma, I saw him EVERYWHERE. I could hear him talking to me. I wish I had gone to see him, I told myself I could tomorrow.... tomorrow never came for him. I heard him scream my name in my head, and knew he was gone before I even checked Facebook. 

Now, the aftermath... I stopped seeing him everywhere, but I could FEEL him. And, to this day, I still do. Not always, but if I call out, I feel this heavy pressure on my shoulders, and there he is. 

During the funeral, twice, he spoke. Once through someone to me, and once through me to his mother. After everything was said and done, I went to his grave, and said goodbye. Or so I thought.

I was determined to ignore all the signs, until my daughter started screaming from her room a few days later. Lights flickering, stuff falling, the works. I calmed her down, acknowledged my friend's existence, and it all stopped. We have been connected since his death. Sometimes he is other places, but he always comes back. 

My daughter has seen him quite a few times, even though she had never met him. Usually when she is about to do something dangerous. Also, when in her mind house (see previous entry) he is there to help her. He is truly her guardian angel. Also, weird fact, her grandfather is buried about 5 yards from him. Anytime we visit that grave, she is pulled to my friend's.

I'm sure there are plenty of people that will tell me that this is all a coping mechanism, or just coincidence. Even if it is, I embrace it, as this is all I have left of him. I do not regret where my life is, but the "could have beens" would be so much worse if not for this small peace of comfort. 

Cleaning Your Mind House

So the post below blew up on Reddit. I posted it trying to help others in need, on a witchy subreddit. I was not expecting the overwhelming support it received. I got awards, tons of comments and upvotes, even a few direct messages thanking me for sharing because they were at their wit's end. I thought I would share it here as well, because if the more this is spread, the more people it can help. 

Original Post:

Maybe not quite witchy, but it helped myself and my daughter through some hard times, so thought I would share a meditation/visualization technique. She was especially struggling with a lot of very dark stuff, and this helped. Maybe it could help someone else as well.

Cleaning Your Mind House

Get in a comfortable position, and then focus inward. Visualize you are walking toward a house. This is your mind house. Pay attention to what you see, inside and out. DO NOT FOCUS ON ANYTHING OUTSIDE OF YOUR FENCE. Open your gate, notice what it looks like, if it is strong or weak, if it has sharp edges, etc. As you walk up to your house, notice what it looks like on the outside. (Mine was white picket fence, and nice porch, pretty windows, paint job, etc. I am a people pleaser that will pretend I am happy and fine) Now is the hard part: open the door and go in.

Not everyone goes through the front door at all times. As you continue working, things will change, inside and out. Note how you got in, as well as what you are seeing/feeling. My first time was sludgy and dark. Your goal is to go from room to room, and clean. Sometimes you will find people: take notice of who they are, how they make you feel. If you are afraid of them or feel they need to not be in your life, kick them out of your house. If the room they were in was dedicated to them, redecorate it.

You may find people come and go on their own, or help you with your work. You may also find that a room you have cleaned previously is disheveled when you come back. You just have to keep going. For instance: the kitchen-my daughter saw 2 people in the kitchen, and she described them as 2 people she had never met, but I had. They helped her clean, and held her hand when she was afraid to move forward. The next time she went in, glass was broken, and one was hurt (from someone deeper in the house). She cleaned up, and the next time they said goodbye and she saw them in the house next door. So still there, but in the distance.

There will also be doors that cannot open until you face something else. Everyone's house is different: it is essentially you, your life, your trauma and triumphs, fears and loves. You embrace what serves you, and renovate the rest.

20 Years...

 Where were you when the world changed?

20 years ago today, a horrible act of terrorism occurred. While there are major debates on who caused it, whether it was foreign or domestic, everyone can agree on that fact: it was terrorism. 2,977 lives were lost, and so many more have been lost since, due to this day in the past. Three buildings were hit, with one more targeted, which would have caused more casualties. The days that followed were full of fear, but also of humanity. From that point forward, nothing was the same.

I remember where I was. I was a freshman in high school, and had just walked in to English. My teacher, like so many others, told us that something terrible had happened, and we would not be doing a lesson. We all sat down, and watched the towers fall, on repeat. One of my friends was panicked... his uncle worked in one of the towers. This was before cell phones were prevalent, so we had no way of knowing if he went to work that day. I do not recall if I was ever told. 

I remember saying that everything would be fine, it was okay. But it wasn't. Only 18 people were found alive, and cleanup of the site took 9 months.  We went to war, and heard the phrase "weapons of mass destruction" more times that I can count. This event is now in history books, and we lived through it. 

I will say, something special also happened in the days that followed. Humanity became more compassionate in the aftermath, even for a small period of time. People supported each other, in numerous ways. Donating, volunteering, even listening to each other. One notable occurrence: Steve Bushemi, a former firefighter, went to assist at ground zero. A moment of silence was observed everywhere in the country. And everyone held their breath, hoping for miracles.

To this day, we are still getting new information, from people, and videos that have never been seen. We also have a new generation speaking out on the aftermath: the people who were born on that fateful day. Their whole lives, they have known something was unique about them, and now, at 20 years old, they are speaking about how it felt.

For me, it is hard to remember a time before this. I have memories, but in them, there was no before and after: it was always this way. I think because I was at such a formative age, it skewed the narrative in my head. I had never seen the towers in person, and I do not know the difference if they show it now in movies. In my mind, the before skyline and the after skyline are two separate places. It's better that way... I would break down trying to reconcile the two. 

I do plan on visiting the memorials one day; not just of the towers, but of Flight 93 in Shanksville, where the passengers fought back against the hijackers. The plan seemed to be to crash into either the White House or the Capitol building. However, they were forced to crash in Pennsylvania, due to this huge act of bravery. They lost their lives, but in turn, saved countless others.

Life goes on, but we never forget the actions of this day, and the ones that followed. It affected us all so deeply, that we will never fully heal.

Body Shaming and the Aftershock **TW: eating disorders and rude comments**

 I have been body shamed since I was 8. My family thought it was so funny to make comments about how I must be anorexic, or throwing up after meals. 

I WAS EIGHT.

I spent all of my teen years struggling to gain weight. I even sat down with my Nutrition teacher in Freshman year to ask her, how do I gain weight?? She recommended Ensure Plus, which, while not adding many pounds, made it so that I didn't lose any more. It was insanely hard, because I also walked a mile to and from school every day, and had a fast as heck metabolism.

When I got pregnant with my first child, I was 104 pounds. At the end I was 118, and looked like a tick. I ate everything I could, and still my baby took the weight from my arms and legs. My doctors pushed me to eat more, anything I wanted, just gain the weight!! Two days after giving birth, I weighed myself... 98 pounds. My pre-pregnancy clothes were hanging off of me. It took a while to get back to 104. 

Twenty years after I first heard the word "anorexic", I heard the reverse. I had been working out throughout my 20's, and was in great shape, and weighed 125. I was happy. Then, I got pregnant with my second child, and it all changed. I gained around 40 pounds with her, and heard about it daily. I also had gestational diabetes, was put on a restrictive diet, and was sick constantly. Somehow, when she came out, I barely lost anything. Rude child to the core: take it back kid!

I was a stay at home mom for 2 years, in which time I changed into stick figure with boobs. To this day, I still think I am struggling to lose weight because all of it is in my chest. When I went back to work, I packed on the pounds, and I am now sitting in the 160 range. No matter what I do, I cannot get past that weight. I eat better, exercise, stand/walk more. Nothing works. For 4 years I have tried.

Meanwhile I hear that I'm fat... boyfriends, doctors, workers. And some days, I really see it, and hate myself. I know I did nothing wrong. Bodies change. But in my mind I need to be thinner. Not too thin, because then I'll hear the other side of it again. 

BUT.

I have kids now. Kids who look to me, who take in all that I say and do. And it molds them.

I cried when my (then) 7 year old daughter, the spitting image of me, came home and started only eating salads, and weighing herself 4 times a day. Because she was told that was healthy, and that being thinner was good. She has been body shamed and told to be modest (ie cover every inch of skin) from that moment. I try so hard to teach her that there is nothing wrong with her, but it still lives with her, in the form of anorexia. I fight to get her to eat even 3 bites of food at meals sometimes. And every time it seems like we make progress, someone says something and away we go again.

I pray my youngest never has to deal with this. She is so self assured, but that can change in an instant. I have always tried to be body-positive in front of my children, even when I am struggling. I do not hide my body from them, and in turn they each have some semblance of that as well. I try to teach the benefits of food and water and taking care of your body, but sometimes that falls on deaf ears.

The other day, I showed my boyfriend this super-cute crop top, and told him I could NEVER wear that. He asked why not, and my first response was, because I'm too fat, and my boobs are too big, and no one wants to see that. But, he does. My kids do. And, deep inside I do too.

I'm going to wear the fun stuff. I'm going to enjoy myself. In spite of everyone who tells me I can't. 

Having Fun: A New Blog!

 Hi guys! I am so excited to share that I have created a new blog! It may sound super dumb, but I am in love with this idea, and am having so much fun creating it!

So, the set-up: The blog is written in the words of my Sim. I play Sims 4, and I thought it would be fun to document gameplay in the sim's experiences. So, I created a new character, and moved her into her own home, and off we went!

First of all, I do not have all of the packs and DLC yet. I will slowly be working on getting some of the main ones, but for right now, I have base game, Strangerville, and Cottage Living, along with Seasons. That gives me a decent amount of stuff to do with her for the time being. I did turn off aging as well, so that I have more time to play around with her!

If this sounds interesting to you, please go check it out here and make sure to subscribe!

I am in shock. Trigger Warning: discussion of rape and abuse

 I literally just came to a realization... and I am in shock.

I spend a lot of time on Reddit, and give a lot of advice. Recently, I was talking to someone who is trying to tell their father that his friend raped and abused her, numerous times. As I'm replying, telling them about "Spilled Milk" (an amazing book by a SURVIVOR) I realized something.

I have claimed since I was in high school that I was raped. There's no denying it, even the other person involved knows it was, and we came to terms with that together. It was an experience that changed both of us and made us more aware, or so I thought. 

For a decent chunk of my adult life, I was in abusive relationships. I know that, not a surprise there. But as I'm giving advice and talking to people about their experiences, I got hit with a brick wall. 

All those times I said NO and was bullied or forced into sexual situations. That's RAPE. All the times I made it clear that I did not want sex, but was scared of being physically hurt. That's rape. All the times I was told it was my wifely duty, and I pulled away, said no, and it happened anyway. That's rape.

It got to the point where I didn't trust these people, I needed to drink to be relaxed enough to enjoy sex. If I don't trust someone, the attraction is gone, my body seizes up. For years I didn't understand why, and now I know. 

I am a victim. There are so many things about my personality, and my interactions, that stem from this. I wondered why I am not as confident as I used to be in high school. Now I get it. I had fully owned my experiences back then. But, I had shoved all of this trauma down, hid it behind things, and pasted on a smile. Especially for the sake of my children. 

I can't anymore. Now that I see these things for what they really are, I can work to heal myself, and become my truest self. I am in a great relationship with the most understanding loving human ever. I have a great support team in friends and family. I need to find myself somewhere in all this pain, and drag her out for the world to see. 

It's time to repair myself.

Ornithoscelidaphobia: why me????

So I have Ornithoscelidaphobia.

What the heck is that, you say?

It's a damn fear of dinosaurs. Yup. Dinosaurs. 

Yes, I do know this is illogical. Dinosaurs don't exist. And I enjoy the Jurassic Park movies, so what gives?

When I was in elementary school, We went to the Academy of Natural Sciences. (Side note: I have kids now and still avoid this place) While walking around, we came upon the T-Rex skeleton. I looked up, and up, and up at this massive creature, and swore I saw its jaw quiver. Not like it was going to eat me, like it was going to fall. Nope, I ran all the way back to the tiny dinos, where nothing would squish me. 

I have noticed that I can stand T-Rexs if they are face level with me (went to Dinofest years ago, not an issue). But if I am suddenly shocked by one (like the time I went to a haunted farm and the hayride had a Lost World section), nope, I turn into a ball of tears. Panic mode ensues, and I am done. 

I even recall going to Franklin Institute the year after, and seeing dinosaur stickers on the walls, and freaking out (I calmed down once I was assured there were none). 

Any day trips I plan with the kids, if there are dinosaurs on the website, it's a no-go. I am trying to get back to the Academy now, but I'm still terrified. Even the aquarium, which had something hanging from the ceiling, I had to shut my eyes and be led under it. Face level, fine.

(I also have a fear of heights and buildings more than 3 stories tall, probably for the same reason.)

Side note, I do have a healthy fear of stuff falling on me, like the piano at Ripley's Believe It or Not. So maybe that is why?

If you want to see my Tiktok rant about this topic, click here!

Maniology Affiliate Announcement!

 

Good morning!

I just found out that I was made a Brand Ambassador for Maniology!!! Anyone who knows me knows I love painting my nails (they are literally never bare). It is the one way I am able to show my creativity, and stamping is great for intricate designs. Below are some of my previous creations, unfortunately I was unable to find any of the ones I did with the stamping kits.

I just ordered some of the new stamping plates, as well as some duochrome polishes, so I am super excited to play with them.

Now for why I am posting this at all: I have an affiliate code!!!! (Super excited, my first ever discount code!) You can get 10% off of your total purchase with my code TRISHCRUSE10, so I highly recommend checking it out!

**Disclosure: I do get a commission for any sales, but I do also stand behind the products.**