7:10am

Good Morning, Club!!

I'm so tired, it's insane. I haven't done anything besides move boxes, pack boxes, unpack boxes, clean things, buy things, watch a show, and yap. Which is actually kind of a lot of things.
I have to leave in about 30 minutes for my first training at my new job - not the fancy cafe or cozy space at my beloved Brewhalla, but a Caribou in the town where I now live, about an hour away from my hometown ( close in comparison ). Things are adjusting well, I am not greatly moved by all of this ( I suppose God puts me through things at the times He sees fit ), and I think the job will be pretty easy. Plus I will have more time for the things I love, and {hopefully} a better schedule. Not a better one, but a better kept one. 
But I haven't touched a page in weeks. I haven't read a book, I haven't written in my diary, I haven't jotted down a single poem besides shopping lists and some thoughts I finally had scraped up the other night. Don't even speak to me about my devotions. My adherence to the things necessary to my life in the long-term (and short term, too) has been non-existent. And I am the greatest slacker to my own routine. And Spotify is removing my favorite artists one by one. Okay just Cinerama among my favorites, so far, but what will become of everyone else on there when one by one, people are being removed? All of that is out of my control and therefore very distressing. My routine is within my control to a point and is also therefore very distressing. And I always write about all of these things because they are the cover soil, layered over roots of guilt and disappointment in myself for other things I cannot seem to remove from my life. For things I am in the process of removing. For things about myself that make no sense. What if I am just trying to categorize myself? What if I don't understand things at all? What if my faith makes no sense? What if I just misunderstand everything? What if I will be condemned because I blur things in my own mental vision for peace of mind . . . ? Because I can't be angry . . . because I can't heal . . .  because I can't get away or say no or convince anyone or shake the blame that I feel born with for something I can't name? Because I hate groups and I hate people because I always feel that they see something inherently bad in me - (except J and his family) - because I can't get back what I want and I lost something I just thought I had and I feel disgusted by a feeling from my past that isn't nostalgic but isn't traumatic . . . rather, somewhere in between.  A sense of loss I developed at 6 years old, a sense that I was grasping onto something I couldn't keep - would never be old enough to realize fully - and was proven right. A sense that I wasn't worthy. Condemned because I can't figure everything out and condemned because I would try to and condemned because I think I know a thing or two and because sometimes, in other places, I do feel angry. I am wrong for having a desire, for trying to satisfy it, for believing it can be satisfied, and I am wrong for doubting and being complacent. As David Copperfield describes the age old feeling: 

"What meals I had in silence and embarrassment, always feeling that there were a knife and fork too many, and those mine; an appetite too many, and that mine; a plate and chair too many, and those mine; a somebody too many, and that I!"
(...) "what answers I never got, to little observations that I rarely made; what a blank space I seemed, which everybody overlooked, and yet I was in everybody's way;"
David Copperfield, Chapter 8

I need to get up now, and get ready, but I am lucky to have had these moments to write. I will write next time, when hopefully, my room is clean and my life is somewhat in order. <3

-SS

11:31am

Good morning!!

The queen of oversharing is back, testing her limits on this fine morning of May 19th, 2026, Tuesday.
I watched a movie, on Sunday night, called Kramer vs. Kramer. I had thought about watching it when I was younger, perhaps 14, and decided not to because I didn't want to watch something without a happy ending. As I am getting older, though, I am realizing that some endings can be happy because the story was happy, and the ending doesn't necessarily destroy what happened before; hence, it is indirectly, a happy ending.
I am clawing free of a phone addiction (I had somewhat decreased this addiction over lent, but alas, when I rely on myself, all bad things come crawling back, because life always starts to drown me. Oh Peter, Peter . . .)

I snapped a guitar string last night. The same one I always do. The reason I have a little bag of just that string sitting for replacement. 
Two things that represent trauma symbolically: 
1. Burns. Have you ever noticed that when you burn yourself, and the scar feels heat (usually the newer it is), it makes you flinch? It hurts because you remember the evil pain. I think that when we say we are "scarred", it is usually more of sarcastic trauma, or one you suffered as a child and aren't as afraid of anymore (like something you saw on the internet), but I think "scarred", and as a sidenote, I think scar tissue should become more of a term that we use for emotional and mental wounds, such as Anthony Kedis was perhaps trying to do with the song 'Scar Tissue', but I think we should be using scarred as a term for true trauma. Not "true", that was a bad choice of words. All trauma is true if it is indeed trauma, and  no trauma should be discredited, but what I am trying to say without getting in the way of myself is that we should be using "scarred" as a choice for current trauma, instead of past trauma. I don't know if this is making any sense, and everything, especially language sometimes, is very layered. Anyway . . .
The second one is 
2. Snapped guitar strings. I was just talking about this, and I bring it up again because it happened just last night and my thoughts after it happened are, obviously, fresh in my memory. When you snap a guitar string it's not that the string is scary, or that the noise is particularly shrill (unless you snap the smallest one? I don't remember if I have done that or not). It's just so Loud. It's not bone shattering, it just resounds through your body like an unanticipated gong. It's not "oh no I woke everyone up with that noise", because most likely, it being a rather dull noise, no one heard it but you. It is more of an "I just woke up every piece inside my own body with that noise". And after it happens, you're more or less shook. I think the first times it happens you are more afraid and trembling, but the next couple of times you are shook but calm. It is always a small earthquake when you snap a guitar string and the remembrance of such a feeling and such a noise is very similar to mental or emotional trauma. But even that is not simply my point. I will reach my point in a moment. After snapping said string . . . ACTUALLY I don't remember my point. Maybe that simply was my point. I don't know anymore. I should pick up the guitar to see if I can remember. 

Well, my rambling about trauma is more or less finished for now, (I don't think I will ever stop talking about it though), and I am sitting on my bed. I have not changed out of my pajamas because I am cleaning my room, and while that technically has nothing to do with cleaning my room, it's just because they're easier to move around in. 
I saw a video of a man on Instagram rating the 8 books he's read this year (jealousy ensued because I am foolish), and they were 
1. The count of monte cristo
2. The brothers Karamazov 
3. war and peace
4. lonesome dove
5. rebecca
6. stoner
7. the hobbit
8. fellowship of the ring

And the way he felt about the count of monte cristo is how I feel about David Copperfield. It is "my whole heart". 

I am rambling on about nothing because I need to empty myself like a garbage can. I love talking, I love writing, I love rambling, but the thing about writing and why is infinitely better than talking is because it doesn't drain me like talking does. Talking has an emotional weight that it carries with it that deters me from talking. In fact it is very hard for me to talk. As a child my whole family knows that I would talk just to talk. But now I am a mute. Not really, but people say hi, they say good morning, they make a witty comment, and all I can do is make them uncomfortable or disinterested by smiling, nodding, laughing - I cannot open my mouth. Nothing comes out. I talk to people and I almost always say too much. And maybe they're not thinking as unkindly as I feel like they are - when people are talking to me, I am not thinking unkind things, but I am not voicing my opinions either and for that I feel just as much in the wrong as if I was thinking or saying bad things. It is so hard for me to talk, so I have almost 1,000 poems, and I have many diaries, and I have prose piling up in my binders. It is so hard to talk, and it is so hard to sing, but my head can sing, my head can dance, and say everything I want to. But it is so hard to open the mouth, to move the body, to actually become real in front of people. I am not real. I am not real like everyone else is real. We are all real, but I feel locked outside of an invisible bubble - it is shocking for me to try to fit in and not even fit in but to act like a human in front of others who were born 'normal'. I don't want to be normal or surface level, I just want to exist and not feel utterly humiliated. There is no winning: the price we pay for difference and uniqueness and to be interesting, is to feel different. to know the difference inside and out and have it rushing over your body and bones and muscles and thoughts and words and smiles and reactions and the songs in your head like painful water, calm and slow, constant and steady, rushing and shoving ligaments of the heart where they ought not to be - but they have no other place. It often comes out in tears.

But today I get to clean my room, and go to work, and enjoy life, and it doesn't really matter if I am destroyed inside 50% of the time, or whatever - I am mostly disappointed in myself for letting my phone addiction take hold and exist. Oh how I  long for a landline. At least  a flip phone? I wish I didn't have to have apps to be connected, it makes me feel so angry. I would rather be disconnected at this point. What would it change? 

Anyways, my sister signed a lease, so I will go ahead and cosign - 5 more days til I move myself outta here!!! :D

 

4:10pm

Good morning blog!!

Life is crazy but I am afraid that it's hard for me to recognize because I am so far advanced in my learning on how to be chill, confident, calm, and graceful; to freak out is no longer in me; to yell and shout at people who will not take my words to heart is not in me; to yell and shout at people who will take my words to heart is even less in me; to walk with anything less than the calm assurance, confidence in, and grace of God, is no longer in me.
After all my doubts, my intuition was correct, and I am being "thrown out". My aunt and uncle are splitting up and I am now applying to jobs as fast as I can. My lovely job is being put to an end, but about none of this I am upset. About all of this I feel virtually nothing. I feel no anger, no sadness, no anxiety, only calm and happiness. I guess I am glad to get back to being with my family, and I am not thrown by this whole situation, because I had kind of seen it coming, I just didn't think it would happen this fast 😅 so I am praying for good success and a place to live quickly, although thankfully I have lovely parents whose house I can stay at in the meantime. 

I have been seeing this girl on Instagram with a brand called K1dsaint, and the stuff she sells is really cool. It's really expensive, but I love the thought and meaning behind it and it's all handmade, so I will definitely be buying something from her as soon as I can save enough <3

The Em Beihold concert is so soon!!! My sister's gold dress to be a 'Shiny New Thing' is here and I hope all goes well. All I need now is to buy my own dress from the thrift store, which I plan on doing tomorrow.
I have sort of diagnosed myself with BPD - I thought I had it when I was 16 or so, watching a video from SBSK with Daniel Nepveux, who has schizoaffective disorder and BPD, (schizoaffective disorder really fascinates me, as it is something very difficult that can be overcome, and is what Adrian Borland suffered from leading up to his suicide in 1999). Anyway, I really related to some of the things that Mr. Nepveux said, although the specifics I don't remember at this moment, because it's been awhile since I watched the video. I remember writing to a friend about it, and I probably sounded really mental, and I honestly haven't really spoken to her a whole lot since, as she kind of gradually ended contact with me (I don't know if it was intentional or not). My mental issues have seemed to be the demise of many of my relationships and friendships and such. Since I do not have ocd, just signs, I believe that after years of the thought of BPD marinating in my head, and reading about it now, I am afraid that it may very  the issue that lies within my neuroworld.

There is not much more to say, as I am focusing on the road ahead, of dying pants and washing clothes and packing clothes and cleaning my room and packing my stuff and washing my bedding and waiting for the day when I will be able to go back home and start something new (again).

My aunt is really upset about all of this, but I am afraid I remain, unmoved. To me, that is a good thing. For once, my emotions are not rocking me like a ship on the waves. Not rocking me "back inside my heart" as Julee Cruise says. 

I am going to log off, and come back in probably a week or two <3

-SS

7:06am

Good m0rnninnngggg!!!!!!!

It's ACTUALLY morning this time XDXD

So I didn't do anything as I figured, because all I did on Monday was sew my pants and cry. And last night something crazy happened that I am not brave enough to share with the world. So I haven't done anything because I'm tired in the morning and I have an hour and a half ishh (more like an hour and 10 idk) to put away my laundry and pack my stuff. Tomorrow I'm picking up a Boston cream cake for my little brother and I don't think I will be able to buy the dress at the antique store for my Hot Goblin outfit, (nothing to do with the cake, rather I have been buying food at my job instead of packing stuff because my aunt doesn't really have tons of food, tbh, but I think maybe today I will at least bring some ramen or something). 

I need to put away my laundry like I said, and pack, so I'm going to sign off. 

I hope all of you have a wonderful day!!

-SS

1:30pm

Good afternoon : )

I have plans for today - plans are my friends - I call them on my day off and they help me take care of the day - here are the plans I have for today:

• devotions and bullet journal catch up
• pack!
• respond to letters
• finish crafts
• put away laundry and finish bedding
• take care of stains

Noowww, here is where I fudge up all the time - I never do anything in the correct order because I need HELP doing that, and I never have help. Soo, the obstacle for today, because when I choose to seek help it is always the biggest obstacle of the day - is to seek help. We will see how that mission turns out - if not very well, we will enlist the assistance of the pomodoro timers or whatever, y'know, set my watch for 30 minutes, 30 more, 30 more until everything is done. I don't really take breaks in between, like you're supposed to, it just take a couple seconds to reflect on how much I have gotten done and how much I still have to do

                                                       --- ☆★☆ -- Will be back --☆★☆---

8:31pm

Good evening, friends!

I accidentally took a nap today, but I woke up in the middle of it from my 1hr timer and since it was unfinished, I was buzzing inside my face for the next half hour. I am still tired, so I think I will go to bed very soon. I should stretch, I really should, but I am so tired inside that I think I will just go to bed and stretch in the morning. I don't work, although I do have to go in for some minor stuff online, around 11, so I won't be setting any alarms and will just sleep until I wake up naturally. 

I cleaned my room late last night and listened to some old music I haven't listened to in awhile and even though I was actually very sad and emotional, it was a good experience. Life is full of experiences that are good to have because it is better to feel and experience than to flow through life on auto pilot and have nothing to show for or remember anything by.

I had plans to get stuff done today but the sleepiness took over me, so I think I will give in now. If it doesn't happen that I am able to sleep right away, I'll throw on "Without Love" starring Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy, but hopefully it does. 
Good night!

-SS

1:28pm

Good afternoon ☀

I have to leave in about 40 minutes or so, and I am trying to get things done, however, there are some things that you do every day, and some things that you try to do every day; one of those things for me is writing on my blog - it's not a top priority, but it is one of my desired priorities. I read something once that said everyone has 3 top priorities whether they think about it or not; mine are writing, music, and being outside - aside from my Spiritual growth. I think if anything we would shove out music for that. Other priorities for me are my body, keeping it healthy and and looking how I want, being clean, and eating good things that I enjoy. But our top 3 priorities almost always sort themselves out for us; my blog is not one of them. It feels like it is, and although it technically falls into the category of writing, it isn't one of my top priorities because for me it doesn't make any advancements in my writing and is more of a form of social media, which is not one of my priorities.
Anyways, all this ranting to say that I have been trying to write on my blog precisely because it is Not one of my top priorities and therefore sinks more easily into the category of 'never gets done at all' - because right now, I mostly fixate on my top three priorities. The reason for this? I do not have my own life yet; work is intense because I need it to be, in order to stop myself from a.) feeling useless b.) wanting to go home c.) wasting time/forgetting my purpose for coming here d.) having no money. But in the future, work will (hopefully) be a more normal and quiet part of my life, I will feel free and be my own person. For now I am in that phase of "catching up". 
What I am doing to combat this Before my 20s is having a date set (not a literal date, but a phase and chapter as a general date), for when I will be able to say "this is what I want in life". Even if that goal is only for the 5 years that follow it, I am happy to have at least something set aside as a checkpoint to guide me and to wait for me, so that after all of this I can rest and not be in debt, feeling left behind, or confused. 

Like I said at the start, I have to leave in about 40 minutes, and now I am sure that that has dwindled to 25 minutes, so I will sign off, and hopefully have a semi-early night and get up tomorrow and be wonderfully productive - I believe in myself this week!

-SS