dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
Dear Rachael,

We appreciate your interest in the New Visions for Public Schools - Hunter College Urban Teacher Residency (UTR) and thank you for attending the interview event.

The admissions process for UTR is extremely competitive and we received a large number of applications for a limited number of spaces in this year's cohort. We are sorry to inform you that you will not be considered for the 2014-2015 Residency. It is our policy that the program does not provide feedback on any parts of the application and interview process.

We wish you the best in your future endeavors.


Sincerely,

The New Visions for Public Schools - Hunter College Teacher Residency Team


Jesus. I'm better off sticking to the writing if I'm going to be getting this kind of rejection from SCHOOLS. I swear its like, if I'm going to face pain and rejection and dismissal and loss of money, fuck it, I'll focus on my words. Teaching was supposed to be the back-up job. Fun fact America, this is why you have a fucking teacher crisis, because you won't hire people unless they meet 100000 points. No one meets them. Then you pay them shit.

I'm serious. I might as well just keep writing this murder story. At least I love that. Substituting is burning out for me more and more as each day passes. I got fired for falling off a curb, face planting on the asphalt - all after hours after the students supposedly had left - and accidentally cursed somewhere between falling and hurting myself that I dont actually remember. That was enough for me to be kicked out halfway through the next day. I'm tired of crying over a job I don't love. The only real money I'm making at the moment is working as a freaking phone sex operator anyway. At least sometimes I get off on that.

Anyway. Looks like I'm settled in for the long haul here in Atlanta. Please god, please, send me a sign that I did the right thing and that I'm following the universal plan. Because I am in the forest and all I can see at the moment are muggy Georgia trees.
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
Laptop fell in water. Hunter interview on Friday. I can't stop crying.
dancinbutterfly: (Farscape - Save Me -John)
Dear Rachael,

Thank you for your interest in the NYC Teaching Fellows program and the time and energy you’ve invested in the application process. We sincerely appreciate all of your efforts and your commitment to raising student achievement in New York City.

We have completed a thorough and holistic review of your candidacy, and while we were impressed with your background and experience, we unfortunately are unable to offer you a position in the 2014 Fellows Program. in other words: blah blah blah we don't want you at all because we don't. but hey, buck up! dont think that means you shouldnt be a teacher when its only your back up career and you're going to be alone your whole life and living in your mom's basement at 65 like Grey goddamn Gardens )Sincerely,
Amy Way (Yes, bandom friends, it does make it so much worse that her last name is Way.)

How I feel:


*picks up dream 12456035836-5214BL-2A, dusts it off* *throws it in the trash* *hits shred* Right. So. I'm going to spend the next few months crying and smoking. Who's coming with(feel free to bring your own beverage or burnable)? Blanket fort? Four-twenty? Crying so hard it involved actual screaming? I told my mom first so when I did that last one it didnt scare her. Yeah. Fucked up. I'm going to clear the PRAXIS exam cost I havent paid yet, look at my scores since I'm not saving for a move this year, and see how I did. Who knows. Maybe I'll have passed for to qualify for DC and a year from now I'll be in Washington instead of NYC and that'll be where I was meant to be - near Aunt J and Matt and Li and a few other people I know. Maybe this year will be the year I write my book? Maybe this year I'll fall in love with a millionaire game programmer and this will be moot.

For now? Blanket fucking fort and crying. I spent hundreds of hours and dollars for this pain. I earned it.
dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
TIME TO GO BACK TO MY PSYCHIATRIST. THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE COCKTAIL.

I dont know what exactly but there is something wrong. I'm using my anti-anxiety meds more regularly than I ever have. The cocktail is not right. I need to go back to work. My mom needs me to. I can't. I do not trust myself around children. I don't trust myself around anything more than house work. Sustained illness triggered my PTSD and the storm locked it in the on position I think. Hypervigilance, right Teen Wolf fandom?

Today I found out the test I took to qualify me to teach middle grades english was the wrong one. There are 2 - one that is state specific and one called the PRAXIS both of which function out of the same website ETS.ORG. The sign up webpages look exactly the same. The tests are given at the same center. The cost is the same. They are proctored by the same company and use the same log-in. Both offer middle grades language arts qualification exams. The difference is that PRAXIS covers qualification for 30 but is Georgia not one of them. I took the wrong one - guess how that happened (I'll give you a hint - three days of figuring and refiguring out how the website works and my payments not going through twice are part of it)

Bottom line: I took a test that is absolutely. Freaking. Useless. I cant take the actual GACE for my subjects until MARCH. I dont know exactly how I'm supposed to apply for Middle School English jobs when I dont have the qualifications. Its a mystery.

It's a last push that I can't actually handle when combined with my anxiety. I do not trust myself with the care and supervision of students. That's the point of why I took substituting. I needed to be able to have the freedom to get my shit together when things were unbalanced so that's what I'm going to do.

Sally fucking forth I guess.
dancinbutterfly: (Farscape - Save Me -John)
Im not kidding about the timeframe

(about the Atlanta house)
M:This is a place with enough rooms so that each of you girls have your own homebase when you come here.
R:Enough room for the grandkids eh?
M:I'm not thinking about grandkids.
R:I dont mean now.
M:I mean at all.
R:I'm having kids. Even if I don't have a man I am having a kid at some point.
M:You're not having kids until you're able and I don't just mean financially. You have to be really together before you can have kid.
R:Yeah I know that.
M:I've come to terms about not having grandkids.
R:I'm not talking about having them right now.
M:Anyway I've come to terms with not having grandkids at all. *opens the door for the dog* Come on puppy. You wanna go out? Good girl!

(going downstairs into the space that is supposed to be my apartment to get to the water heater)
R: I know its chaotic but this is just from looking for my winter boots this morning.
M:You should take this opportunity to straighten up.
R:Im going to do laundry and that will take care of a lot of the mess.
M:*walks further in*There's no excuse for this!
R:What? No excuse for what?
M:That water bottle on the floor. That scrap of paper. That cord on the floor. Come on Rachael.
R:God, okay.
M:You can't do this. You have to keep this place in better shape.
R: Okay.

Update! (as she's leaving)
Mom:I'm going to go rest. When you're finished with that try to get your room back in order...*mumble mumble mumble*
R:Huh?
M: Nothing.
R:No I just couldnt hear you. You know my hearing is bad.
M:I said 'So if someone comes in it wouldn't be an embarrassment."


Um, she didn't hit me but she might as well have? I've only wanted kids my whole life. This is only supposed to be my APARTMENT - as if we were in separate dwellings, that was the deal. I just...don't know. I am waiting for her to call me to help her finish taking care of the water heater so I can get her the fuck out of my space so I can cry. I havent cried yet and I refuse to until she's gone. I don't want her to know she gets to me anymore.

I can't breathe. Send help.

This is not a fucking drill.
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
I'm home in Atlanta. Thank fuck. Lord willing and the crick don' rise, I will never have to back to Florida(please please please G-d). The funeral was...I gave the eulogy. When I wasnt giving the eulogy, I was livetweeting the funeral. I wish I was kidding but I'm not. If you're curious, search for #livefromthefuneral because oh my god it was just - ugh. No. Just no. The parts of me that are involved in grieving were not engaged.

Also my mom and sister kept telling me how I should behave. What the actual fuck. I'm one of the primary mourners. So you cry hysterically. Thats okay but my hysterical laughter isnt? It's releasing the exact fucking emotion, mine just feels better. I was, by the way, hysterically laughing in the limo - I kept finding Archer references to things [i.e. the trip to the cemetery was "so boring and forever taking"] and discussion of how much we(my mother and I) dislike the Boca Raton area. The conversation went as follows:

Mom: Welcome to Tamarac formerly-
Me: -known as the everglades. Ugh.
Mom: Well, you know, some people like it? I guess? That's a nice drainage ditch over there...
Me: If I had to choose would rather die in Somalia by a gunshot wound to the head from a warlord and be buried there than die and be buried here in south Florida.
Mom: Nope. No Rachael, I'd rather be here with my ex-husband AND my ex in-laws than in Somalia with a warlord.
*cue hysterical laughter on my part because oh my god you guys, you dont understand how much she dislikes my dad now and how badly his parents treated her - you really dont*
Me: No I think you missed part of it. I said I'd rather die there than die in south Florida. And I definitely would rather be buried there than here. I've got no active desire to go to Somalia at the moment.
Mom: Oh well. *shrug* Okay then.
Me: Well I've got nothing against Somalia itself, unlike this place, and it's got a lower chance of sinking into the ocean like Atlantis when the glaciers melt and also I've heard its fairly mineral rich. Also, it's not south Florida.
Mom: No it is not.
Me:Point of this is - don't bury me down here.
Mom: Don't bury me down here either.

Other death and dad related things - did you know my mom went to a lawyer and got it in writing that if all 4 of us were to die all at once, she was NOT to be buried next to my dad? She got in the same writing that I was to be buried the FARTHEST from him? She got both of these things written and set up because, she said, she didn't want her and I to be next to him so he could torture us for eternity but my sister can handle him which is why she'd go between him and my mom. OH THE THINGS YOU LEARN.

Burying my grandmother was kind of strange too, although I'm glad she wasn't cremated. It's not the Jewish way for one but for another, it means she gets to be next to Papa forever. That's how it should be. The burial itself though... everyone was just - again this is just not where my heart is for grief. I live on gallows humor so someone - my aunt I think - noticed that the coffin had a tag or something on it. The 3 of them(mom, aunt, d-bag uncle) started to get upset and I go "Grammy worked in retail her whole life. She'd love that it has a tag." so they dont freak out but also because I think its funny and I think its true. Like I said, that's not where my heart lives.

My heart lives in the fact that I'm doing the walk back to the car - which in Jewish tradition has a GAUNTLET OF CONDOLENCES - and this man who was in my mom/uncle/aunts youth takes my hand and goes "I'm so sorry for your loss. You gave a lovely speech. I'm ______. I went to high school with your dad. I mean your uncle." Yeah, I got into the limo to lose my shit over that because all of my family is broken but of all of our shattered and missing pieces - my father is the only piece out of my family because he treated me so badly for so long. I have never met any of his friends from high school. I couldn't call him when she died. I can't call him on father's day because it'll open the door for me to get hurt more. I hurt over him at Grammy's funeral which, to quote Hyperbole and a Half - no....she wanted the opposite of this. Like I said - woman had no saliva and spit on him in her last days and told me not to listen to or care for him. Yet there I was, crying over him being missing at HER funeral. Argh. Frustrating.

I also find myself mourning harder for Dolores every time I think of Grammy. They knew each other. They liked each other a lot. Dolores should've fucking outlived Grammy. How did she NOT outlive Grammy? When grief hits me over my grandmother, it kicks the Dolores grief back on because the "dying peacefully in her sleep with her daughter and granddaughter with her in her sleep at 82" death makes sense and is something I can cope with but "dead by her own hand at 24 leaving behind a daughter with no mother" is fucking insane and I can't deal with it. I get thrown there every damn time too. So there's THAT to deal with.

Anyway. So. She left me all her movie den and movie stuff yes? I mentioned that. Well I really lost it when I walked into the movie den and saw this room that was basically Grammy in a nutshell. I had to call for my mom because I lost it so hard. Things like that are where I cry - not funerals.

My goodbye was not the funeral. My goodbye was much earlier. We found her passport in a lockbox with her money and important papers etc so we could pay bills and such. My mom, my sister and my cousin Caty(who is a nurse and who was caring for her too) are looking through the things and I asked "Can I have her passport? I'm going to go put it under her pillow. I mean, you know, last trip." because those of you who have been around me for awhile know that I have a strong wanderlust. Theres nothing like getting a new stamp in those pages. You're somewhere else, somewhere new, you've moved and have the passport to prove that you have and more importantly - that you CAN get up and go. I wanted her to have that with her - sort of like coins on the eyes for the ferryman almost. Putting that under her pillow and saying goodbye like that was it for me. I went into the bathroom(because zero space or privacy) with my ipod and phone and just cried in the semi-dark for awhile.

I got a lot of her clothes though. Most of them werent really things I want - she was 80! most of the retro stuff was given to her kids when she moved back in '03. But I got a lot of her skirts for work when work returns and I got the sequened tops I used to play dress-up in with my sister and cousins when I was a very little girl. They fit in a sexy way now, which is hilarious but I have them and I have her movies. Her fandom. Okay, I've started crying but you guys, oh god, it was five DVD racks, plus the four shelves on 2 tv stands of DVDs. God, there were also books and a hefty John Wayne keychain.

The last day she was REALLY coherent - not the last day she was alive but the last day she still had SPARK - we watched Blood Alley with John Wayne and then she fell asleep before the end. After that she didnt wake up long enough to finish it. I have it in my bag. I keep trying to figure out when is the right time to watch it because I have to know how it ends you know? I have to. Point is, I packed her fandom up and I'm taking it into my home and adding it to my own fandom.

My family - they dont really get it. My mom tries but she doesnt have anything she's fannish about(Game of Thrones a little but not like this) - they didn't get it. They knew she loved it, they knew it was her passion but I dont think they got it, the way it infiltrates your life, the way it holds you up and keeps you breathing. Her family was with her, and so was the Duke and her musicals and I just- I can't deal with how huge a deal that was. It makes me both love fandom more and more scared of it. She & I started loving these things we love at about the same age - 12/13 - and she was still loving them fiercely when she died. It's huge and it makes me ache so much.

In the interim between that and me getting home - there were isolation issues because my mom and sister were Busy Being Mourners, and I was at a hotel, and I was out watching hockey and drinking when my family was at the Douchebag Uncle's because I'm not welcome there. That's what happens when you point out that someone's grandiosity is nearly delusional, they're overbearing, and that they're disingenuous(not in so many words but thats basically what happened at The Worst Thanksgiving Ever). So D-bag Uncle was running the show and I was not part of the cast or crew. Right after I left the D-bag Uncle apparently went BATSHIT CRAZY(no seriously, my aunt/his sister got scared of him and LEFT) and that story will come later.

Now I'm home and able to see where things are fraying. I'm dissociated for long stretches. I'm compulsive eating again. The biggest thing? I'm having A(ctivites of)D(aily)L(iving) issues. I'm having problems getting out of bed for a start which isn't a surprise. Thats standard with grief/depression. No, what's freaking me out is that I'm having shower/bath issues. I dont know why but it takes a lot to actually make myself get in the fucking shower or bath. It's a hygiene issue that is BIG and is one of the MANY reasons why I'm still in treatment and on so many meds. Basically I'm listening to the Black Parade for comfort(and Cancer on repeat when I need a good cry because jesus fuck MCR. You don't hit any less hard with time. God I love all of you so much. So fucking much) and Save Rock&Roll, reading a lot of fic and poking everyone I know online for company. It's all I've got.

There'll be another post soon I imagine. Dolores' birthday is in 3 days. My birthday is in 6 days. On that day I lose my health insurance. Woo. I imagine I'll have some some sort of post by then. Maybe I'll figure out something to do? I dont know. Even my online friends are busy on Sat the 15th. Father's Day's the 16th dont you know. So. Yeah.

Plus side, I get to go back to regular therapy now that I'm home. Thank fuck.
dancinbutterfly: (Gone With The Wind)
Today my mom called to get me the car because a friend of a friend I've been trying to meet for the 9 days I've been in S. Florida was supposed to come here so I could have someone to hang out with for a few hours. "Be so glad you're not with the family." My mother said. "Your uncle is fucking crazy. Your sister will tell you one day. It's a stress ball." Needless to say when the Friend of A Friend had to cancel(shocker) I called her to try and make contact and she was like "Well you could come here but we're not really talking about her things or touching her stuff sooooo maybe you should stay there and chill out. No, go ahead and eat on your own. Trust me you dont want to be in this mess. You can come with when we go pick up your step-dad" *click* Okay. Um. Okay.

So needless to say I spent the day alone. Then we got my stepdad and we were going to get dinner but everything was closed so...I got a drink, watched the Penguins lose in a HUMILIATING 6-1 and went home - also alone.

I know you guys are out there. I do feel your love and your presence. My fairy godmother(Have I mentioned that I have a Fairy Godmother? I do. She's the best. She gives me hope.) got in touch with me again which helped loads. It's just - things are so fucked. You're all out there but you're too ephemeral and I need a more solid presence which I'm just not getting. Note all the, um, aloneness?

*drags hand over face* To add insult to all this injury, guess who had to plunge a dirty toilet in her own hotel room because there was no one to do it? Did you guess me? If you did you were right. Listen I didn't want to be here in the first place. I was fucking banished here like a treasonous prince but I understand that there are many people on earth in far worse states of being. However, payments were made for me to be here. That payment was for a room with clean sleeping quarters and working facilities. Expecting someone to fix them if they break is not unreasonable if I am in a room I paid for. This expectation is especially true as we live in a capitalist society where I'm going to lose my fucking healthcare in 11 days when I turn 26 as the WORST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER IMAGINED and the name of the game exchange of cash for goods and services. Cash was exchanged at this establishments so I am not out of line to I expect someone else to come and do this LITERAL shit job of a service for me when money was given.

But no. Things just keep being fuckawful. Tomorrow's the funeral then shiva. I imagine that will be fuckawful too.
dancinbutterfly: (Gone With The Wind)
My grandmother is dead. She died at about 11 right around the time the Fall Out Boy show would've been closing which actually is a good thing as it will make getting a tattoo for her easier. I'll be able to use a lyric if I want. And hey! My mom called me by 12:30 and came and picked me up from the bar where I'd be watching the Blackhawks/Kings game and drinking Cookies&Creme martinis and listening to Fall Out Boy(and thinking about how my Fairy Godmother came through again and I'd get to go in September at least :D) so she only waited like...an hour and 3 drinks to tell me.

But hey! It got my sister to initiate an ACTUAL PHYSICAL LITERAL HUG WITH ME! No, you guys dont understand. This is like that episode of the Big Bang Theory where Sheldon hugged Penny. That my sister initiated affectionate contact is a big deal. Refreshing too.

Then we stood around with her body for awhile because...I have no fucking idea. She looked like one of those ice mummys, as I've said. Dead bodies that are fresh basically look like dead bodies that are 5000 years old. Hope it helped my family. I'm still too emotionally fucked up from yesterday to be more than just like "okay and?" because guys. She's been dying since we got here a week ago.

I had my moments. You read most of them. They were hurtful and ugly as sin. Enough. My grammie was not that person. My real goodbye was something else and I'll talk about it later, probably after the funeral which will be, I dont know, Tuesday or Wednesday? Who fucking knows. I would like to note that yet again I have no idea whats going on. I'm alone but for once I'm kinda fucking relieved. I was too drunk to deal with their emotions tonight when I'm mostly just annoyed.

Anyway, she's dead. As someone said "They kicked you out and then she died." Yep. Looks that way I guess.

I dont know. Maybe I needed to leave for her to die? I dont know why it would make a difference that I wasnt there but my sister and mother were but I was the last person to leave and not come back of the people before she left so, as another internet person pointed out "Maybe you had to leave so she could leave too."

I dont know.

However I would like for you to take not that I used my Gone with the Wind icon in honor of Marilyn Esrig because I watched it for the first time with her at age 8 in her house in Birmingham Alabama. I remember that I got to stay up to the outrageously late time of after midnight to watch the whole thing with my cousin Michelle(the uncle's daughter) and that while she fell asleep half way through it, I pitched the most epic of all hissyfits when Rhett walked out the door declaring FRANKLY MY DEAR I DONT GIVE A DAMN and then DIDNT COME BACK! I was hooked way before that - on John Wayne with Hatari when I was too young to talk because OMG ELEPHANTS! ZEBRAS! MY FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH FOREIGN TRIBES ON TV WHERE THEY WERENT BELITTLED OR TREATED AS LESS THAN FOR BEING DIFFERENT THAN WHITE PEOPLE!, on Charleton Heston, Jimmy Stewart and Betty Hutton with the Greatest Show On Earth, on all things musical with The King and I and Fiddler on the Roof, on Katherine Hepburn with the African Queen - but I grew up in the buckle of the bible belt and once I saw Gone with the Wind, it was all over for me. I was in the movie hole with her and she knew it.

So I get it all, damnit. The movie den is mine. Every DVD. Every VHS. Every book. Every picture. Every poster. Every puzzle that is a scene from a film. It's all mine because when I look at the last half of my life and see fandom, I can trace it back to Grammie and know that its not just who I am, its who she is too.

Ten bucks says Uncle Douchebag tries to fight me on it. Bring it. Because now that she is gone I am ready to make the insipid motivational video intro video he made the biggest joke on the internet. I trust you guys will help me spread it to reddit, tumblr, twitter etc should the need arise.

So any road, may she rest in peace but that one step down right? Now we've just got the funeral. Then shiva. Then who the fuck knows. Packing maybe?

I am so fucked up you guys. Not necessarily about her dying. Just, you know. In general.
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
So. I woke up yesterday to my mother standing beside my bed asking if I was going to still go hang out with my aunt and if so I needed to get up now. Then she said "Also, you're going to stay with your uncle[whom some of you may remember from The Worst Thanksgiving Of All Time] or in a hotel. Decide."

I blinked at her. "Uh. Yeah I'm still going."

"And where are you staying? I need to know so I can start making arrangements while you pack so you'll be ready when you get back from your movie with Aunt Bonnie."

"Um, my uncle's?" Because you see he is a tremendous douchebag but he's still my family.

So she texts him. I check on the status and she says "He didnt get back to me." Texts twice. Then after an hour of my shoving everything I brought with me into my bags, news comes down - absolutely not, I cannot stay there. Nevermind that my Aunt is staying there. Nevermind that my cousins stayed there. Nevermind that my sister has stayed there. I, Rachael, am not allowed to stay there. So I go to a movie with Aunt Bonnie - Now You See Me (aka if TSN If Mark Were Into Magic Instead of Coding and ) - and come back, my mom has narrowed it down to 2 hotels. Best Western and LaQuinta. She books the first one LaQuinta and we get there and no, that one is a reservation but its too expensive - by ten bucks a night. So she moves me down the highway by 2 miles.

The whole time we're driving my mother's talking about how I'll be so relieved once I get there. I'll have my own space. I wont have to fight with anyone. There will be more space for anyone. I'll have more independence. Plus I can stay up as late as I want and I wont have to whisper into the phone at night. Won't that be great?

Forgetting the part that she couched being "sent" to a hotel as a threat the entire time I was here, and starting before I even left Atlanta. Her declaration and follow up punishment was penalty for my behavior - that behavior being me, existing on earth as Rachael who EVERYONE seems to find a problem. It was horrible to be banished by yet another family member. I'm at four now btw - father, sister, uncle, and now mother.

However, that isn't the biggest issue. Most of the people reading my journal have an idea of my trauma. They're aware of the fact that I have a severe mental illness and that I have PTSD that is linked to extreme traumatic transience. The reality of the situation yesterday was that my mom rousted me from my sleep with the message of "grab your shit and go." In case I'm not clear:

~She woke me up with an enactment of my worst nightmare. She told a PTSD victim who's illness is based in sudden moves in turbulent times to pack her things up, pick a place and go with no timeline on return. She even talked about how this was better than *living like we did during the hurricane* which is my PTSD point of origin.~

As I told my mom, triggers arent like spiders.They arent gone once you step on them. They're more like huge rocks you drop on a calm lake. It can take anywhere from hours to weeks for the waves the refreshed trauma to still again.

Then she came in and flopped on the bed like she wanted to stay and hang out all "ah isnt this room great? I didnt scream at her or call her a piece of shit or a hateful cuntface or any of the things I wanted to do like, scream at her or slap her across the face. I'm still angry. I can function calmly and rationally but oh god I am so angry.

So thats the state of my union. I'm currently staying in a very comfortable but empty hotel room. Waiting for my grandmother's body to catch up with her spirit and let loose this mortal coil. Alone. Because I was a bad girl. Not a woman 13 days away from her 26th birthday who chose to do it that way - but because I was a bad girl and I needed to be punished and since I lack a car, money, or any agency over my own life - I was put in a higher class version of the corner. For my friends in Hockey fandom - it's a bit like Two Minutes For Being Matt Cooke - only in this instance its Banished From Most Family Moments For Being Rachael.

Fall Out Boy is probably just getting rolling right now and I'm at a sports bar watching hockey. Say it with me class! Alone.

Honestly the only things that are stopping me from giving into this feeling: having to explain it to her as a my therapist[omg such a hassle], knowing I'd have to clean up after whatever bad choice I made because I hate cleaning, refusal to do anything that could risk me not being in perfect condition for ComicCon in July and TV: I need to see if Lucrezia and Cesare get their shit together on Borgias, Teen Wolf is returning and one day I'll get to watch that, and in the fall there will be Agents of SHEILD, American Horror Story, and Archer.

Wow. I have a sad empty lonely fucking life. Look at that. The reasons I have not to give into this despair are TV, dislike of cleaning, dislike of explaining my misbehavior to authority figures and ComicCon. Just when I thought I couldn't feel more alone.
dancinbutterfly: (Farscape - Save Me -John)
I got a lovely comment today checking on me to see how I am. At which point I realized I havent given you a status update.

How I am is fucking horrific and what's up is that my grandmother is dying. Not she's got cancer and is dying. Not oh now she's at stage 4 and is dying.

No, we're at hospice comes every day, we change her and try to help keep her lips and mouth dry, hold her hand, and literally hoping for her to die because she's ready to go and we're ready for her to go but we come from sturdy stock that will never quit and is going to keep going until ever wears out.

I flew in on Saturday night and she was awake enough to talk. Sunday was a decent day and we got to talk/see her and my cousins were there too. Monday we had last-words sort of things where I was told 1)that its so good that I have substitute teaching, a REAL job, because she was worried about me with trying to make a living "with the writing" 2) that I look so great and if I could just lose 10lbs I would be perfect 3)that she is terrified for me that I should end up 700lbs and have to get carted out of my house 4)that I am not to help my father even if he's dying in the street[the woman had no saliva but spit at my father with one of her dying acts] because he isnt worth the ground he walks on and I'm not to talk to him let alone take care of him when he's old and that 5)I'm too smart, so much smarter than most people and people hate that 6)so I have to act average and only show my smarts later so I can get by in the world.

That did make me feel like GUTTING myself or any anything. Not like she hit on all of the things that I hurt me the most. Not like my weight and my complete lack of faith in my ability to pursue writing and my conflicted father issues and feeling like a fucking freak ALL the time because I know more than most people in a given room. As if I didnt know I have to act average in order to interact with the world - as if the last week of failing miserably at: impulse control, modesty, having an instinct on when a conversation is over, keeping my mouth shut, making small talk, being a general disaster hasnt been evidenced enough.

If I werent aware before my grandmothers last coherent words, my sister and mother have both made it DAMN fucking clear how badly i'm doing here how wrong I am to be here, how everything I do is a mistake, how I'm in the way, not part of this, shouldnt be here. Granted the rest of my cousins came. They all were here and had their time (or if they didnt got talked about for not). I'm here because she was my favorite. I'm here because fuck all of them I was her favorite.

The thing about this is - I was SPECIFICALLY TOLD that I would be getting no emotional support from my mom when I came down here. Fine. I dont need it, I said. [personal profile] knight_tracer stocked me up with podfics that have been really amazing - so good for my nerves and my soul. She's a sweetie that way. I have my therapist(true, I had a session on monday) and theres a couple other people who have tried but foolishly I thought that my internet friends would be more of a support than than they are.

God, I am so STUPID. People WARNED ME. They WARNED me for a DECADE that the friends you meet online arent your friends until you get to know them in real life(I'm looking at you Hardwire Harlots)but I didnt listen. I thought that they were even if you never saw their faces or heard their voices. I thought that after fifteen years online I'd made REAL connections you know?

Only the longer this drags on - and oh god it drags and drags - I'm finding thats not true. I'm just alone. The names I reach out to are empty. How stupid can I possibly be?

So now, not only am I under a barrage of constant verbal attacks from my sister that have me scrambling to change everything I can about myself in a desperate bid not to get attacked again. Please, god please, just let me have gotten it right this time. I just want to fix it so I stop getting attacked. Thats all. I want to just breathe. I'm sorry okay? I'm sorry.

Then I'm surrounded by sadness and tension to tight you could turn it into a cord and garrot someone with it and am realizing that I'm alone. I am all alone. I mean, intellectually, I knew that I was alone? I had just sort of deluded myself into thinking that these words on a screen were attached to people who cared on the other side.

However, as much as the sexual assault made me realize how kind and supportive everyone on here is, this current has made me realize how deeply alone I am. It's pointless to try and get with the people I consider my closest friends. They're in other corners of the earth. If they're not they busy with their husbands/wives/children, they have prearranged activities or better friends and plans they made before I ever entered the picture. This isnt a new thing. I've never been first for anyone and I dont know why that would change now. I've pretty much never been anyone's best friend(i've had lots of people as MY best friend but I was never THEIRS) and thats most keenly noticed since Kaci and I's friendship disintergrated. I have people who try now, here on LJ and on Twitter too but...I dont have anyone I feel like I can turn to and say "Help me." Not with this. Not with the request of being with me when things are hard and I cant be funny or clever or entertaining. I don't have friends for a reason I figure. Being with me isnt something most people want. Most of the time of I force myself to be okay with it.

After a week watching a woman I love die by centimeters, I'm not strong enough to pretend it's not one of the main reasons I'm up typing and crying at 3:55am.

Oh. Wait. In a final bit of hilarious fate: I DONT GET TO SEE FALL OUT BOY TOMORROW! I've only been waiting for 5 years for this and now, boom, chance gone. Isn't that silly? My grandma is dying but I'm still let down. Plus, the part of me that gets paid less than 20K a year is angry about $50 down the drain. I was going to get a tour hoodie. I was going to finally have seen all the bandom bands and know that I'd survived to see them all play - Panic, MCR and FOB.

I waited for years for them to come back and they did, just in time for my world to fall apart again. I'm pretty sure the arena show inAtlanta is already sold out so, you know maybe in another 5 years when I'm 30 I'll get to see them. I really hope I'll be alive then. I dont mean that in a self-destructive way its just...with the way things keep going I dont hope for much anymore you know? The tenth person in my graduating class of 250 died this week so I'm just saying. I used to wish for things like a family - someone to love, kids, friends, a career I liked, living somewhere I didnt hate. Now, the way things are going, getting to live to see 30 and maybe Fall Out Boy with like...one friend who is really there for me? Thats the new dream.
dancinbutterfly: (Farscape - Save Me -John)
Everyone's fine but I was in another car wreck this morning. Unlike the others? This one's my fault. I take full responsibility for it and will not contest that all. I'm not sure exactly how it happened but I know that I did something wrong - though I'm not sure what. I'm scheduling a defensive driving class for either this weekend or the next (probably next because getting the car fixed will take a lot of time, naturally)

Speaking of getting the car fixed, there goes yet more of what little I scraped together. *scrubs face* So. Selling plasma. You can do that twice a week for 35 bucks a time right? So that should help if I can find a center that does that here in Atlanta and I get 7.25 an hour for my day job. Also, you know, the selling my eggs thing? That's looking better and better. As my life stands right now, I'm looking at being alone forever which is depressing as hell but at least this way, you know, a part of me wont die out completely you know? I'm just trying to think of ways to pull myself out of this. I'm going to try and throw up a 20K roman vampire story on Amazon and see if anyone buys it but I dont think that will be near enough. So, I'm not sure what I'm going to do but maybe I can pull myself out of this hole at least a little? I dont know. I'm running out of ideas.

*buries her face in fandom and art because she cant deal with reality right now*
dancinbutterfly: (Farscape - Save Me -John)
Everyone's fine but I was in another car wreck this morning. Unlike the others? This one's my fault. I take full responsibility for it and will not contest that all. I'm not sure exactly how it happened but I know that I did something wrong - though I'm not sure what. I'm scheduling a defensive driving class for either this weekend or the next (probably next because getting the car fixed will take a lot of time, naturally)

Speaking of getting the car fixed, there goes yet more of what little I scraped together. *scrubs face* So. Selling plasma. You can do that twice a week for 35 bucks a time right? So that should help if I can find a center that does that here in Atlanta and I get 7.25 an hour for my day job. Also, you know, the selling my eggs thing? That's looking better and better. As my life stands right now, I'm looking at being alone forever which is depressing as hell but at least this way, you know, a part of me wont die out completely you know? I'm just trying to think of ways to pull myself out of this. I'm going to try and throw up a 20K roman vampire story on Amazon and see if anyone buys it but I dont think that will be near enough. So, I'm not sure what I'm going to do but maybe I can pull myself out of this hole at least a little? I dont know. I'm running out of ideas.

*buries her face in fandom and art because she cant deal with reality right now*
dancinbutterfly: (Nightmare Before Xmas - Jack and Sally)
Bulletpoints for easy access:

The Bad )

The Good )

The Fandom
  • Finished the Payback Fic for [livejournal.com profile] turlough! It's called 5 Times Gerard Met The Doctor" and if you wanna read it you can just click the link.
  • I FINISHED MY FREAKING BANDOM REVERSE BIG BANG! My post date isnt for awhile but I finished it. Crisis and all, it got done. It's a miracle and a half. Seriously, I cant believe it but it's done. O.O
  • *clears throat* the current Payback Fic I'm working on(which I hope will have a rough draft finished in time for at least one of the BBB waves) is, um, a Bandom story set in the Hunger Games universe. Patrick is the Tribute. Gerard is his Mentor. Pete is his Stylist. Frank is a former Victor from another District Gerard's got a long standing affair with. So, uh, there's that.


Anyway... how are yall?
dancinbutterfly: (Nightmare Before Xmas - Jack and Sally)
Bulletpoints for easy access:

The Bad )

The Good )

The Fandom
  • Finished the Payback Fic for [livejournal.com profile] turlough! It's called 5 Times Gerard Met The Doctor" and if you wanna read it you can just click the link.
  • I FINISHED MY FREAKING BANDOM REVERSE BIG BANG! My post date isnt for awhile but I finished it. Crisis and all, it got done. It's a miracle and a half. Seriously, I cant believe it but it's done. O.O
  • *clears throat* the current Payback Fic I'm working on(which I hope will have a rough draft finished in time for at least one of the BBB waves) is, um, a Bandom story set in the Hunger Games universe. Patrick is the Tribute. Gerard is his Mentor. Pete is his Stylist. Frank is a former Victor from another District Gerard's got a long standing affair with. So, uh, there's that.


Anyway... how are yall?
dancinbutterfly: (Clone High -Life gives you Lemons)
Got a call from the rental car company. On top of the 250 dollar deposit, they need another 190(not including tax of course) for the car which I am returning today. So...there's another ~450 added to the 1500 bringing the total up to just shy of 2 grand. Damnit. *Deep breath*

Okay, I am still upset. I am still raw and empty and raging and fried and fucked up beyond all measure. I am also in a place where I have decided fuck this shit, I'm going to really, seriously, DO something about this. Necessity is the mother invention and all that shit so I'm opening a freelance writing company. I dont have a name for it yet but I'm going to do it.

I'm still selling fic and podfic and actual physical items (working on taking pictures of stuff to put up) but that can't count as part of this whole freelance thing because of copyright laws. However, I'm taking control back goddamn it. I am going to take the lemons life keeps giving me, clone them, and make super lemons. The vocational center at Skyland's going to help me set this up.

So on top of fic, podfic, and physical goods? I'm offering original work: fiction, non-fiction, articles, essays, editing, content read throughs, brainstorming work, couching and creative counseling, basically anything you might need to get a written project done on your schedule. I am building from this series of disasters. I am going to be productive. I am probably going to cry a lot but I am going to find something constructive in this. I'm going to use this as a way to find hope and a future, damnit. I am.

Anyway. This is just an update while I try to build the posts with sale items on them. Love you all.
dancinbutterfly: (Clone High -Life gives you Lemons)
Got a call from the rental car company. On top of the 250 dollar deposit, they need another 190(not including tax of course) for the car which I am returning today. So...there's another ~450 added to the 1500 bringing the total up to just shy of 2 grand. Damnit. *Deep breath*

Okay, I am still upset. I am still raw and empty and raging and fried and fucked up beyond all measure. I am also in a place where I have decided fuck this shit, I'm going to really, seriously, DO something about this. Necessity is the mother invention and all that shit so I'm opening a freelance writing company. I dont have a name for it yet but I'm going to do it.

I'm still selling fic and podfic and actual physical items (working on taking pictures of stuff to put up) but that can't count as part of this whole freelance thing because of copyright laws. However, I'm taking control back goddamn it. I am going to take the lemons life keeps giving me, clone them, and make super lemons. The vocational center at Skyland's going to help me set this up.

So on top of fic, podfic, and physical goods? I'm offering original work: fiction, non-fiction, articles, essays, editing, content read throughs, brainstorming work, couching and creative counseling, basically anything you might need to get a written project done on your schedule. I am building from this series of disasters. I am going to be productive. I am probably going to cry a lot but I am going to find something constructive in this. I'm going to use this as a way to find hope and a future, damnit. I am.

Anyway. This is just an update while I try to build the posts with sale items on them. Love you all.
dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
I have begun going through my shit today to see what physical items I can sell on top of the fic and podfic services (which will have their own offer and price post later) *scrubs face*

So far, there are lots of posters, lots of shoes, lots of shirts, some vases. I'm trying to find the wherewithal to give up some of my dvds and favorite Clandestine gear among other things but its difficult. Also jewelry, some interesting looking purses(I only have one Designer bag), some novelty items that were exclusive to ComicCon, and the ceramics and drawings I made myself. I'm not hugely talented at either but I made them with my own hands so that has to count for something right?

God. This really sucks. But, by the end of this week there should be a series of sale posts. When those go up, please tell your friends? Anon posting will be on and a lot of the items(for example I have two Abduction poster with Taylor Laughtner's face on them and while he isnt my guy, I know there are fandom people out there in who adore him) are not in my fandom but are going to be available. I'm being very productive in that element. Anyway that's the physical element - watch this space for the proverbial fire sale.

On the psychiatric/psychological side? Oh god this sucks. I'm having mild hurricane fall out flashbacks because this is so close to what I did when we packed up our house. I'm sitting on my bedroom floor again, asking myself Do you really want this? Do you really need this? How will you feel if it's gone forever? Can you deal with that? I don't miss those questions, not even a little and it makes simultaneously sad and relieved to know that often, the answer is yes, I can deal. I just wish I wasn't used to this feeling.

However. I would like to say this before I close: To the people who have said amazing things and already taken me up on my fic/podfic offers or just decided to be fucking amazingly beautifully generous - you are wonderful. You make me feel loved in a way I have never experienced before in my life. As bad as things are - and considering I've gone from three medications to six at twice the dosage to make it through the day they are very fucking bad - I'm grateful that this all happened because it showed me you all, and how gorgeous you are, inside and out, how loving and kind and strong. Nothing I can say will possibly be enough to convey how I feel but this is me trying. *hugs every single one of you* I love you all so very much that it makes me ache a little. Thank you. So much.
dancinbutterfly: (Venture Bros. - Problem)
I have begun going through my shit today to see what physical items I can sell on top of the fic and podfic services (which will have their own offer and price post later) *scrubs face*

So far, there are lots of posters, lots of shoes, lots of shirts, some vases. I'm trying to find the wherewithal to give up some of my dvds and favorite Clandestine gear among other things but its difficult. Also jewelry, some interesting looking purses(I only have one Designer bag), some novelty items that were exclusive to ComicCon, and the ceramics and drawings I made myself. I'm not hugely talented at either but I made them with my own hands so that has to count for something right?

God. This really sucks. But, by the end of this week there should be a series of sale posts. When those go up, please tell your friends? Anon posting will be on and a lot of the items(for example I have two Abduction poster with Taylor Laughtner's face on them and while he isnt my guy, I know there are fandom people out there in who adore him) are not in my fandom but are going to be available. I'm being very productive in that element. Anyway that's the physical element - watch this space for the proverbial fire sale.

On the psychiatric/psychological side? Oh god this sucks. I'm having mild hurricane fall out flashbacks because this is so close to what I did when we packed up our house. I'm sitting on my bedroom floor again, asking myself Do you really want this? Do you really need this? How will you feel if it's gone forever? Can you deal with that? I don't miss those questions, not even a little and it makes simultaneously sad and relieved to know that often, the answer is yes, I can deal. I just wish I wasn't used to this feeling.

However. I would like to say this before I close: To the people who have said amazing things and already taken me up on my fic/podfic offers or just decided to be fucking amazingly beautifully generous - you are wonderful. You make me feel loved in a way I have never experienced before in my life. As bad as things are - and considering I've gone from three medications to six at twice the dosage to make it through the day they are very fucking bad - I'm grateful that this all happened because it showed me you all, and how gorgeous you are, inside and out, how loving and kind and strong. Nothing I can say will possibly be enough to convey how I feel but this is me trying. *hugs every single one of you* I love you all so very much that it makes me ache a little. Thank you. So much.
dancinbutterfly: (Nightmare Before Xmas)
I am going through my shit today to see what physical items I can sell on top of the fic and podfic services (which will have their own offer and price post later) *scrubs face*

So far, there are lots of posters, lots of shoes, lots of shirts, some vases. I'm trying to find the wherewithal to give up some of my dvds and favorite Clandestine gear among other things but its difficult. Also jewelry, some interesting looking purses(I only have one Designer bag), some novelty items that were exclusive to ComicCon, and the ceramics and drawings I made myself. I'm not hugely talented at either but I made them with my own hands so that has to count for something right?

God. This really sucks. But, by the end of this week there should be a series of sale posts. When those go up, please tell your friends? Anon posting will be on and a lot of the items(for example I have two Abduction poster with Taylor Laughtner's face on them and while he isnt my guy, I know there are fandom people out there in who adore him) are not in my fandom but are going to be available. I'm being very productive in that element. Anyway that's the physical element - watch this space for the proverbial fire sale.

On the psychiatric/psychological side? Oh god this sucks. I'm having mild hurricane fall out flashbacks because this is so close to what I did when we packed up our house. I'm sitting on my bedroom floor again, asking myself Do you really want this? Do you really need this? How will you feel if it's gone forever? Can you deal with that? I don't miss those questions, not even a little and it makes simultaneously sad and relieved to know that often, the answer is yes, I can deal. I just wish I wasn't used to this feeling.

However. I would like to say this before I close: To the people who have said amazing things and already taken me up on my fic/podfic offers or just decided to be fucking amazingly beautifully generous - you are wonderful. You make me feel loved in a way I have never experienced before in my life. As bad as things are - and considering I've gone from three medications to six at twice the dosage to make it through the day they are very fucking bad - I'm grateful that this all happened because it showed me you all, and how gorgeous you are, inside and out, how loving and kind and strong. Nothing I can say will possibly be enough to convey how I feel but this is me trying. *hugs every single one of you* I love you all so very much that it makes me ache a little. Thank you. So much.
dancinbutterfly: (Default)
Because my life can't ever let the fuck up, pure stress lead me to fall asleep in my main therapy session yesterday. I just closed my eyes for a second and when I opened my eyes, the session was over and more than half an hour passed. I freaked out at my psychiatrist and he perscribed me more anti-anxiety meds but I left my wallet at home. So I had to go get it before I could get my drugs and if you've been keeping score, me + cars=not good. The rental company's got me in a minivan and I fucking dented the side because I misjudged the side of the drive-thru because I'm used to my mid-size and bumped it into those obnoxious yellow cement pillons. So there's that.

And since we're talking about cars, at some point before I got home the car guy called - definitely going to be 1.5K which is a problem as they dont do payment plans and I only have 850 in my account. So the fact that the credit card I applied for that I REALLY REALLY NEED TO GET THROUGH THIS got declined is so so very not good. I can't use my old card because ha, it was stolen and shut down and its going to be 2 to 3 weeks before the replacement gets there. Isn't that just fucking great?

I'm still selling my writing and podficcing. Make me an offer. If you've already made me one - Private Message or email me(if you have my email) and we'll talk turkey. If you havent, lets talk anyway. In a couple days, I get a handle on things beyond breathing, things like clothing, shoes, appliances and the art and icons a couple of friends are willing to contribute will be up for offers too.

Off the money issue, when I got home to stay and went to let my dog out, I fell down the stairs at my apartment complex yesterday. I didnt break my face open because of sheer luck but my knee and hip are both killing me. Then there was the multiple nose bleeds brought on by my raised blood pressure so cue me spitting up blood for a few hours and ruining my favorite tank top. And then? My toilet decided to back up full of shit water - so I was lucky enough to get to spend somewhere between 30 minutes and an hour fighting to try and keep it from overflowing and trying to get the freaking toilet to work at all. Afterwards, as I sat in my bedroom, trying to collect my shit - I was lucky enough to have some few bugs crawl on me. IN MY BED ROOM.

I just. I don't- I dont know you guys. I dont know. Things are bad in Rachaelia. I'm a non smoker who tore through three cigarettes yesterday out of sheer desperation on top of my meds.

I just don't know what to do. I feel like I'm drowning. This morning? I've had three moments so far just this morning where I'm so overwhelmed, I am literally paralyzed, like I'm too deep in my head to think or see. I don't know what do. This is the first time I've felt truly hopeless without the root being my chemical imbalances. I...I need help. I just dont know where I'm supposed to get it from because my normal sources arent enough right now.

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