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I think I've figured out a way to help combat both boredom and dramatic, self-destructive actions. It works for 2 year olds and it seems to work for this 36 year old, too. PLAY DRESS UP! So now the idea is to learn all kinds of neat vanity tricks and show the world. I got it down for my nails. Now let's try other things.

And Girlyswirl, I can definitely get some kind of playlist, though a lot of can hit melancholy spots. Or it's whimsical about the Crazy. Is that okay? It is so good to have another soldier standing with me on these front lines. Thank you for being here.

So, to get through a really strange place in my head this morning, despite my actual hair ALREADY being purple, I played a bit of dress up.

Remember last year how I lost over half my hair and I was sure I'd be bald by September? That thankfully didn't happen, but I was prepared and bought a few wigs. WARNING: TOTAL NEWB AT THIS. Going to be watching tons of Youtube videos on how to make it all look more naturally placed. Anyone have any tips or videos to share on how to make wig placement look more natural?

(Oh, and product placement: WET N WILD'S glitter makeup IS ACTUALLY GLITTERY AND STAYS ON. It's not just a top coat of glitter in the case, but glitter the whole way through. MUCH LOVE, WET'N'WILD)

Fun with wigs! )
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Sometimes I can feel these padded walls closing in.Closer. Closer. Closer. )

He does love dating someone with colored hair. My mind also loves it. Thank you again, Michael.

THE FACE BEHIND ALL OF THIS RAMBLING





"We didn't come this far just to get this far.
We didn't come this far just to fade to black.
FIGHT, BABY, FIGHT!!!
" - Icon For Hire, Demons

I WILL NOT FADE TO BLACK. THERE'S TOO MUCH IN ME LEFT TO BE SAID TO LET IT BE ECLIPSED BY THE SICKNESS THAT THREATENS TO SWALLOW IT ALL. I AM SO MUCH BIGGER THAN THE DARKNESS.

And if hair dye is a weapon (and it can be), then call me locked and loaded, because while I've got bullets littering my psyche, I've also got safes and locked boxes to keep them in. A gun without bullets has little ability except to pistol whip you across the cheeks.

Hurts like hell, but a A HELL OF A LOT LESS than a shot straight to the jaw.
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It looks like a blank video, but there's an 18 minute video of me rambling in there, I promise.

Highlights: Purpose, what surrounds death is comforting, weight loss, and confessions about struggling with cutting.

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As time, space, and sleep often do, I feel better. Jesse and I conversed about what I'd actually needed last night, and how to go about getting that. It also turns out that he was not at his best yesterday, either. The complex had cut the electricity for about six hours, which caused his C-PAP to stop working. He then, of course, could barely sleep. That led to him being confused and slow on the uptake about what kind of support I needed.

I understand how exhaustion can make a person confused.

And YES - you guys hit on a fundamental truth between the sexes. Men want to talk about solutions to the issue. Women want to talk about the issue itself. I remember with Pat I'd become comfortable with outright saying "Hey, I just need to vent and talk here. Can we just do that and we'll focus on solutions afterwards?"

It is not unreasonable for me to do the same with Jesse. I'd fallen out of the habit of it while with David. No amount of venting ever seemed to lead to any relief and damn few solutions. But Jesse is not David and I need to keep reminding myself of that (stupid, internally touchy smoke alarm).

But even that makes me nervous. I spent A LOT of time telling David, Using My Words, in very specific words, what I needed. Things that it turns out I shouldn't have had to communicate in the FIRST place, so basic were the terms of what I needed.

So I DON'T want to get in the habit of doing so here. And I'm not entirely convinced one should HAVE to communicate that they are looking to be supported in these sorts of situations. On the other hand, I'm also not entirely convinced that communicating the need for support is unhealthy, either.

Like, where does the line lay? The line between being willing to be open about what you need versus begging for what is, essentially, basic respect?

And yes, exactly, Noss - the whole "I just want a little time" thing. Which is funny, as both Pat and Jesse say one of my problems is that I tend to rush off and make half-cocked but extremely strong decisions, all due to my emotional state, and often for the worse. This is not a charge I can completely deny. But it then feels as if I'm being told to do two different things. STOP, THINK, CALM DOWN, DON'T RUSH. DON'T STOP, DON'T THINK, JUST GO DO SHIT RIGHT NOW.

Surely there is a balance between those two. But it's a balance I've never been able to find and no one's ever been willing to share the answer with me. They seem diametrically opposed, as it is awfully difficult to DO THINGS RIGHT NOW when you're supposed to be CALMING DOWN.

What do you guys think????

I DID manage to do something fun last night. Not something necessary. Not something that I HADTODORIGHTNOW. Not something that the lack of would pin me as a derelict of an adult. But something fun. Something I love doing.

I painted my goddamn nails.

Messy but fun nails )

THAT was fun. AND relaxing. And you know what it did? It fucking calmed me down. Amazing, isn't it? Self-care for the win, yo.
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Terrible sound quality, as usual. Highlights: Hair, Depression as the Prince of Lies, Cassie (durrhhh), and being too dead to notice how I died.



The words are there this morning but they are about the mundane. The morning routine. Nail polish. The snap of the lighter, the first draw of a cigarette. Things that aren't terribly interesting to write about - and even less interesting to read about. But I know enough about writing to know that if that's what's there, then I ought to write it.

The morning routine is simple enough.Time and Chance come to all men )
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Highlights: That damn grogginess, Day v.s Night lovers, Body working for me, Uhms and Aws, Character, Mother Forgetting, That could be the day,


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I dyed my hair red. It was supposed to be half red, half purple, but it turns out that purple is red's bitch. But no matter, I love the way it came out. Not quite fire engine red, but not quite fuchsia, either.

Again, pictures never seem to format small enough, at least not at first. Oi. Apologies for the GIGANTICOR TERESSA.

So boobalicious pictures, Myspaces poses, the high angle "I swear I'm not overweight" picture, and the obligatory make-a-funny-face. All in all, your basic "I swear I'm actually in my 30's" pictures.

(That's the nice thing about getting older. You are no longer constrained by the tee-hee, giggle-giggle of youth to fish for compliments. You can outright state that you either feel like shit and need the ego boost, OR you can just straight up say "I feel like the sexiest beast around. CONFIRM IT OR DIE!")

So here are the pictures, which currently fall into the confirmation stage. Why? BECAUSE I FEEL GOOD, DAMNIT! I feel sexy and fun and want to share the love.

And the boobs. Or at least some cleavage. Cleavage is AWESOME.

It's not fishing for compliments if you outright state they are heartily accepted )
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Someday I will figure out a higher video quality. Also how to time cards to video lengths. This is a little rushed, sorry!

Highlights: All of you!

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Highlights: Jesse, Latuda, bravery, David says a Profound Thing, shout out to Su_Carbs, missed safewords (possible trigger warning?) question for Noss_Whispers, guest appearance of Jesse!


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Terrible, TERRIBLE sound quality. No idea why.

Highlights: Gaming. Jesse and Pat meet. Cassie. Chaos. You guys.

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Except yeah, I'm totally fishing for compliments. I started getting a little (or a lot) insecure about Mr. Ex Professor, who I couldn't compete with in the education department for another, gawd, like 15 years. And I realized that I'm going to have to get over this insecurity about dating people who might have wildly higher educations than I do. (Because I LIKE smart people and a lot of smart people come with degrees.)

Asking out the professor made me realize that...I don't have a lot to offer an educated person.

Or a person who has a career.

Or a person who has, well, things adults have that I don't.

It makes me feel a little ashamed that I didn't work harder in my life. So I figure with busting my ass at this dumb college and getting a good job, in the meantime, I have to fall back on my looks, wit, and whacky personality.

Which....just doesn't seem like it will matter as much as it used to.

So....I decided to tackle this the one way I know I can...with boobs, makeup, and good selfies. I wanted to take super duper sexy pictures but then I realized my corset is buried in the back of my well stuffed closet. I don't feel like braving a clothes and shoe avalanche to get to it.

So I made do with a shirt and five million selfie shots.

And makeup. A metric fuckton of makeup. Like I do.And, of course, I do )

So there's me. There's me looking to build some confidence. Just seeing the pictures make me feel better about myself. It's not bad. It's not bad at all.

Thanks for putting up with this. And remember, all fishhooks can be deposited in the box when you exit the post.
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Highlights: Kittens will turn into cats, but make great friends. Heartburn suuucks. Will be fishing for compliments. Nicotine rawks. Dating worries. Secrets that did not stay so secret.

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TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of childhood sexual abuse, self-mutilation.

I have not wasted 17 damn years of therapy. I have talked and talked and talked and worked so hard on all this, even the specifics. It just hasn't come up in awhile.

It has recently, though.

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Highlights: Ten minutes of me whining about being crazy. The backstory about why I hold so ferociously onto my writing, all of which you guys have heard a million times before. Self preservation instincts.

In other words, shit ya'll have heard me say before.

I'm hoping by posting this, here in a week or two, I can look back and feel compassion for myself.


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This is a 20 minute video, so only watch when you are terribly bored and have nothing else to look at!

Highlights: Some NSFW stories about how Josh knew I discovered my clitoris. Teressa is a jerk drunk. Josh has a story idea about Yuper characters at Walmart. OMFG I AM ALL TIT. (I swear, I'm not as big as I look in the video IT'S ALL FUCKING BOOB!) Seriously, like my tits are the widest thing on me WTF! Josh knows camera shit. Teeth check! (Duh.)

What I and Josh will never do shall we meet you, Radium! Josh becomes the first stop after I lose my virginity (NO NOT LIKE THAT!)

Josh has psychic sex powers. Unfortunately, they do not get HIM laid. Josh has MORE THAN ONE Teressa genital story?! (Yes, he does.) Semi-ass flash FOR ART! Josh misses HIS ass. Adequate nutrition for the long journey of finding one's clitoris.

Teressa has TERRIBLE posture! And CATS because INTERNET. Wedding discrepancies and REMIND ME TO TELL YOU GUYS ABOUT NIKKI. Everybody watches porn!

Bart, Josh wants you to whisk him away (in a totally non gay way) to France. On second thought, he's considering some pole smoking for a ticket...

Lawnmowers that make better cameras than lawnmowers. Josh attempts an upper Pennsylvania accent that sounds like a bad Irish accent.

Josh has a personal message he'd like any of you Wisconsin folk's to pass on if you meet this one dude. Teressa is FINALLY wearing underwear!

And Josh requests if any fapping occurs due to this video, to please share with him!


Vidja

Jun. 29th, 2014 11:05 pm
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Highlights: Crazy alert, Lolsob MRA entry, Being social, Sex, Repetitive Advice and other stuff that I am too braindead to remember.

Eventually I'm gonna make one and have Josh come on and share funny stories, cuz shit, that'd be awesome.


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Highlights: Dinner. Introverts. Extroverts. Headaches. David's life versus my life. Home. Sex.

But nothing major if you skip the video. Is okay, folks.

EDIT: I feel I should clarify: When I say "there was no sex between any combination of the three of us", I'm referring to myself, Amanda, and her husband, who also came over for dinner.

Also, lol at David's insistence that he's not an introvert or an extrovert because he's "something else that most people aren't."

(He's an extrovert. Or else just really pushy when it comes to wanting other people to do things that are truly uncomfortable for them.)

Yeah. That, too.

Weirdly enough, it was still VERY nice to see him. His voice, his face. It just...didn't make me miss him.

I guess we'll see.

I did finally tell him he needs to get his stuff out. I gave him a month (as I'll be spending next week out of state entirely.) I know, I know, but hey - this IS progress. Slow progress that I know should have been done AGES ago, but progress.

Bedtime. Ice pack on my neck and bedtime.

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