I think I was a xenomorph in a past life

Ey oh! Let’s go!

Saturday was the beginning of a new dawn! Okay, it really wasn’t, but I’m feeling dramatic so let’s be dramatic. Saturday was actually the day I started to get a little bit more level-headed. It was a rough few weeks, my friends, a rough few weeks. Lots of screaming and shouting and crying and attacking myself and others. Finally I’m coming out of it though. There was a close call yesterday, I thought I was turning again, but nope. Woke up this morning and weeeeeee, I’m alive! Okay, not weeee I’m alive, but weeeeee I have some control again!

Never drink an elixir prescribed by Dr Jekyll. In fact, never drink an elixir prescribed by anyone. Who prescribes elixirs these days? I mean, unless you’ve somehow been transported to another world (you lucky devil) then make sure it’s a good one that gives you super strength or the ability to read minds or something. Actually, would anyone really want that? What would you want an elixir to do?

Promo07

Where were we, I bet that paragraph makes no sense. That’s what I get when I always speak vaguely. I’m not trying to be all mysterious and, and uh, you know… One of those writer types that strokes their beard and broods and says “You’ll never understand me” before throwing a hand to their… no I’m getting confused with damsels. We need more damsels with beards.

Anyway, I did start writing the post The Dangers of Deception but I stopped because my brain kept doing weird things to it. Sentences wouldn’t sentence, words were all topsy turvy. I think I’ve mentioned I’m supposedly dyslexic (I say supposedly because I wasn’t told until university) but it’s more a mental unwellnesshealth thing at the moment, well, then the moment. Now, on the other hand, I’m writing parts of sentences yet to come because it’s an exciting time. It actually isn’t at all but I feel like I can do things today and so I’ll probably start writing another book to not finish haha.

Actually, what I’m going to do is finally look into advertising my book. So many anxieties though and ups and downs. Christ, I never factored it in you know? I never sat down and thought okay, gonna release this book and make a plan to advertise (which is already backwards – truth is I made a plan a few months back but then didn’t follow it because…) but I never thought oh and don’t forget you’re ill and some days you might think you’re a dragon and can fly but you really can’t and other days you might be attacking people like they’re trying to steal your gold and the other days when you are just asleep atop your treasure hoard… where am I going with this. Oh yeah. I can’t lead a normal life because I can’t function properly and so trying to manage something like advertisement, woooooo eeeeee. I’m sure it’s tough for everyone in the first place! I really should have thought about it though. I’ve been dealing with this rubbish for a long time and it’s cost me jobs, friends, family, relationships, and education things, what are those things, the scrolls, well those, and yet I didn’t think about it for this?!

Brain, you are a special type. I know that it’s very important to constantly fixate on door handles and making me feel shit about myself but c’mon, can we work together sometimes? Not everyone has to be our enemy you know.

Co-workers, pfft.

Anyway, I’m gonna do it though. Going to…

Completely forgot I needed to feed Seb her second dinners. She’s like a hobbit these days. Needs breakfast and elevenses. I need to write a post about little madame. Those of you who follow me on Instagram will know that she’s been sporting a new haircut, but a fair bit has gone on with her so I’d like to write it down.

She’s alright though, tough little thing and all.

20180408_104936[2660]
Sleepy little monkey
I’m going to start trying to get my book in front of people is what I was saying! Advertising it and doing a giveaway finally! I’ll make a separate post about that though.

I really want to start writing short stories but they take a special kind of skill don’t they. Or even a series like the No Sleep ones on Reddit. Would that be fun? It means you need to suspend belief though. I’d like to post it on my blog and on the site, I wonder if that’s allowed.

What the hell is this post about?

Honestly, I think I just wanted to get my fingers tapping again. You know, it’s so easy to think I’m just mean and cruel and lazy when I’m at a low, but that can’t be true because if it were then whenever I was in the middle or above I wouldn’t jump to write and take back some control.

As for my April post of things I planned to do. Ahahaha. Yeah. I did read one of the books though! I wish I’d written about it sooner because like everyone I don’t remember things for long and I like to give my impression when I first feel them. Bah ‘umbug.

Oooh, my fiance bought me some pretty dresses. I posted a picture in this one instagram but I like the dress so posting here too. Will most likely post more myspace-esque pictures in future post.

20180414_185216[2659] (3)
I look like I’m about to do a little dance

 

So yes, I am going to be stalking these plains again for a while. Book giveaway free deal (whatever it is called) will be posted at some point as well. I’ll also try write about anything I find that might be helpful for you too. Will post about Seb. How is it still only 28 minutes past. Oh lord. I’m stuck in a time slip. Haaaaaalllppp!

20180416_211848[2661]
My cat in a wormhole
Advertisements

The Importance of Deception

I don’t like liars. I can say this with quite some conviction because I lie often and I never like myself when I do. It got me thinking, the whirls a cogging. How often are we lying to ourselves?

This is hardly some profound thought, I’m not growing myself a beard and saying hmm a lot, as much as I’d like to spend my days as such. I’m trying to live in this new way, you see. It was actually another blogger that had me thinking: what, I can do that? I can just say that I’m tired? I don’t need to write stories about being kidnapped by lemurs?

Wow, of course I don’t. I really shouldn’t. We want mental illness to be taken seriously, for people to realize how much it impacts on daily life. Yet, if you’re like me, you’ll have lied a lot through your mental illness.

You’re always fine. There’s always a reason you can’t make it. Some kid down the road that you don’t know needs baby sitting or you need to help your mom make organic soup. You didn’t complete what you were supposed to because of all the reasons under the sun including the sun just turning up at the door one day and being all “You wot, mate?” and honestly, who in that situation isn’t going to do its bidding? Excuses are just lies by another name, and I have been full of them for years. The longer they go on, the more they rot away at the roots of friendships that were once something pretty damn great, at experiences that could have been amazing, at creative works that you just know could really have been special.

But it’s protection. The importance of lying is a 101 on how to fool those around you and live under the disguise of human. It’s impossible, by the way. You’re not fooling anyone. You can’t, because despite how mental illness is still somehow seen as the invisible illness, it is actually all too visible.

It’s right there. Right in front of you. It’s the withdrawal from friends, the frame that has either shrunk or grown too quickly, it’s the aggression, the tears, the fights formed by bouts of paranoia, the lack of hygiene (sorry romantics, but being mentally ill ain’t pretty), the lack of self because there isn’t enough room for yourself to thrive in your mind anymore. It is so blatantly in front of us and it is the liar. It feeds on the silence that screams through the night.

But, honesty? What comes when we are honest? When we speak to the people we are supposed to. When we speak to the people who by our third sentence are wishing they had never asked of our burden; their skin growing heavy as they feel the weight of our chains wrap their bonds around them, too.

Are we really so frightening? I speak here both as someone who has frightened those by what has been said and been frightened by what has been heard.

Perhaps we are. Perhaps we’re of fascination. Perhaps people are repulsed by us. Perhaps it depends on what is wrong with us that any of this post has relevance.

In so many cultures (including my own) it can still be seen as weak to discuss anything but a stellar mental health. I have been called weak, fragile, overly emotional; and I often wonder at that last one. We’ve seen the state of the world. How can we witness such cruelty and not be overcome with emotion? We live in a lie. A beautiful backdrop, a setting we believed only the gods could design, with a violence only one of war could imprint upon our minds.

We’re a mess. This post is becoming a mess.

I know that each and every person that reads this post will find it relatable, because in the end, it isn’t just about mental illness, is it? It’s also about mental health (if you’ve never had any issues with your mental health, I don’t know whether to envy you or wonder if you’re the crazy one).

We talk so much and yet rarely say anything. We need to say something. It isn’t weak to do so, it’s important to do so. It’s important to talk to those who dedicated their careers to wanting to help us, those who dedicate their lives to it, and, of course, the one who will always be there through it: ourselves. How can we begin to be honest with others when we hide from our own truth?

I’ll start by saying something that I have said throughout this entire post, but that is often taken from us when we are accused of being simply weak, fragile, or overly emotional.

My own truth, and one that even I was almost convinced of as being a lie.

I am ill.

How Queen and The Dude helped me battle anxiety

I’ve been on the verge of talking about mental health more lately, rocking myself back and forth over it.

I then realized that I don’t often talk about things I try to do to make it better.

This happened in the early hours of the morning and since it involves music I thought I’d involve you.

I’ve been trying to ride out waves of extreme (and random) anxiety. It completely floods over me leaving me cold and in a panic, when there isn’t a specific thing to panic about my brain will bring up whatever it can as a kind of, look, here, this is something you can get upset about!

Well, I actually had myself a little success last night. This might be because I was quite delirious but fuck it, it’s mine. I’m taking it.

This isn’t a new technique. Doctors, therapists, psychologists, pigeons with clipboards (come to think of it, maybe I shouldn’t have let that one in my house), they all kind of work with similar stuff. Honestly, it usually doesn’t do me much good, but for whatever reason I decided to ride with the wave of anxiety last night, and here’s how it went with the aid of a sleep deprived brain and some good buddies.

 

cue deep breathing…

“I am riding this wave, I am in the sea, I am on a surf board.

It doesn’t matter that I can’t swim I am in control because this is a magical sea and I am riding these waves like a boss.

The sun is shining and the sky is blue and I’m burnin’ through the sky, yeah, 200 degrees

that’s why they call me Mr…

wait….

Those aren’t my thoughts, what the?

 

 

cue music

it is very important you have this song in your head!

 

I’m a shooting star leaping through sky

like a tiger

defying the laws of gravity

 

uproxx.files_.wordpress.com-dude-flying

cue visuals of my brain

 

I’m a racing car passing by

like Lady Godiva

I’m gonna go go go

there’s not stopping meeeeeee

 

xQ1

brain enters stage left

 

 

I’m burning through the sky yeaaaah

200 degrees

that’s why they call me mr farenheit

I’m travelling at the speed of liiight

I wanna make a supersonic man outta you

 

sdewde

cue spotlight on brain

 

I’m a rocket ship on my way to Mars

on a collision course

I am a satellite

I’M OUTTAAAAA CONTROL

 

gfgfddg

enter my brain in full swing

 

I’m a sex machine ready to reload

like an atom bomb

About to oooh oooh oh explodeeee

 

gdfggd

now it’s just showing off

 

Don’t stop me noooowww

I’m having such a good time

I’m having a ball

If you wanna have a good time just gimme a caaaaallllll

Cause I’m having such a good time

I don’t wanna stop at aaallllll

 

viking-1437661717

final act: my brain dancing with anxiety

 

 

As you can probably imagine, this did nothing to help me get to sleep. It did help my waking hours not be quite so awful though. In fact, during that time, it was just plain ol’ fun.

I hope this post brings a smile to someone’s face and who knows, maybe you’ll find yourself summoning the Dude and Queen yourself one night!

 

 

And the woooorld

I’ll turn it inside ouutttt yeaaaa

 

Baby Steps

I’m going to start this with a disclaimer: I saw the headline, I didn’t read the article.

I couldn’t. But, I also couldn’t not write anything this time.

I have so many times before felt outrage and then scrolled down, and there’s something happy and, honestly, it is emotionally confusing. Cruelty, cute video, motivational quote, murder, 10 ways to lose weight and look good!, child rapist walks free, try not to laugh video. Ha, you’re probably wondering, where the hell are you seeing this? Well, homepages, websites, I’m sure you’ve seen it too.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to live in a world where all we witness is cruelty, or all we see are happy videos to blind us to what is happening around us, but I feel like it is moving too fast. We almost don’t get time to process it.

I didn’t click the article because my brain will bring the images back to haunt me – this is I suppose, where I have no choice but to process it. The article, is one about animal cruelty and how some disgusting person murdered an animal. We don’t often use that word when it comes to animals, do we? Murder.

The thing is, and here is me speaking about one of the “On Writing” posts I’d hoped to publish this month, I can’t let go of these acts of cruelty towards animals. Now, I know there will always be someone who will jump on this and say “but what about this” or so on, and so on. To that: we can care about more than one thing, but having focus on a specific isn’t bad either. I’m glad that people are driven to do something about so many different things. It reminds me that there is good in the world. It doesn’t make me angry that not everyone is as outraged about certain things as I am.

Back to the point. I’m writing this because I had to reclaim some of my memory, some of my humanity, a moment in history where I can remember this animal lost its life in a horrific way. Honestly, do I feel I need to read the article before writing this? No. I’ve seen enough of human torture towards animals that I don’t need to. This is for all of them. Not just something to scroll past, not just something for a moments sadness, something that is to drive and to push and to motivate.

It is why I write.

I am so sick of feeling useless, feeling like every day more is happening behind closed doors and despite how much I would like to end it by force (I never pretended to be nice) I know that I can’t. So, I write stories. Tales with animals in that are to be cherished, that aren’t to be hurt. If they are hurt, then their loss will ache in a reader’s heart just as any characters would. I try to promote compassion in imagined worlds in hope that goodness will creep into our world.

It’s a small hope, but we are each granted that, are we not?

I know, and I am further driven by this knowledge, that many are outraged by animal cruelty, because there are many good people in this world. Yet, it continues.

In disgusting incidents with individuals like the one that led me to write this, and in wildly confusing moments (as an evolved species – if we truly are, how is this possible?) carried out by groups.

Of course, there is more that can be done than just writing stories, there is more that can be done that just writing a blog post, there is always more. But we should never be discouraged by how little we do, not as long as we are doing something.

That is why I had to write this.

For a kitten.

And for everyone who shies away from doing something, out of fear that it is not enough.

Custard looks a lot like Salad Cream but they’re both tasty

It’s a bitter sweet smile that touches my lips upon hearing he would like more of my time. A reward for the me that has been on top form for those past few days. “I know we won’t get this opportunity often, I want to make the most of it,” he says. It’s odd, almost becoming jealous of myself. Does he prefer the other me, to this me? Christ, I know that I do. What a bore I become when my mood switches. It was heaven though, those few days.

I speak of smiles reaching the eyes a lot, of laughter finding a home there too. When you constantly find yourself smiling with no real cause, only from being told to, it’s a physical feeling. A grimace more than anything is the usual sensation. “I can’t smile” I say, knowing only that I can, I just shy from it. I feel my face distort in such an ugly manner when I am of this mind.

Yet those few days, when I could dance in front of the camera. I could sway my body or push my face up to the lens and make ridiculous faces. Make him laugh. Make him smile. See me as sexy. See me as funny. I don’t care, I’m letting you see me without me forcing anything and that is all that matters. I’m no prisoner today.

This is to you.

This is to that girl.

I know that you’re in there and I know that the other is coming to the fore.

Do not be afraid.

You are not your own prisoner. There is strength in you. When leaving a room, let alone the house, is frightening because you fear how you might react, how you might treat people. You fear the dizziness, the sounds are too loud, the people are talking but their faces are blurring, you are forgetting everything they are saying. Everything is too fast, too loud… do what you want the world to do. Pause.

Try to breathe.

You were here so recently I can still taste your words and you should find courage knowing that it scares her. Scares me.

It’s like a death. Witnessing your own death over and over. A phoenix rising only to turn to ashes again too soon. You don’t need to be arrogant in how you see yourself, it isn’t about self-love. It really isn’t. It’s about being alive. You are not the banshee, you are the phoenix. Remember this. Tell yourself this when you are hurting, especially when you are hurting another. This is not me. This is not me.

Or is it me?

It’s no surprise you’re fascinated with the idea of duality.

You can keep yourself alive if you hold on to memories of when you were who you know you really are. You are not the vile, angry, horrible, lonely person you will become now. You are not that person. That person came into existence years ago and never left – that is the illness, that is not you. What you will come to see in the mirror is not what is really there. You are lying to yourself. You are fighting people and screaming at people to stop lying, to admit that you are ugly, that you have whichever flaw you want to choose today, because your brain is fixating on it. The liar resides inside your head, not in theirs. Forget all the names of illnesses that have been attached to you, in the end it is everything and it is nothing, and it’s a merging of names that really just mean you are sick.

If you hear laughter. Laugh right back. Do what you always have and find the light in the dark, shine it on that masked self and make it answer to all it has done. Who better to hold you accountable for your wrong doings than yourself?

The other girl is watching everything you are about to do and say and she is here to tell you…

Well she is here to tell you to fuck off.

Ha, like that will work.

It felt good though.

Didn’t like that, did you?

 

 

 

 

Post this because you’re afraid to because it doesn’t make any sense and it doesn’t do what you wanted it to. What did you want it to do anyway?

Oh yeah.

I am more than what I am about to become.

 

 

And

I didn’t post it.

I’m writing this part, this bit after, yep that bit right there, some days later. I think I wrote this on Monday. Since then things have taken the turn that I expected them to, although, must be said, not quite so awfully in its consistency.

It’s so odd though, feeling yourself changing. The way you interpret things, how you interact with people. To love someone one minute and the next feel complete hatred, coupled with confusion and distress because logic leapt out the window. It’s difficult for those around me for these reasons, sometimes I wonder if more so. I can’t expect others to know how to deal with something that I don’t even know what to do with.

Here’s where I delete a bunch because I think I need to just write a proper post about it to get it off my chest.

And then I continue, as noted below. Arbie Krae, dontpetthefanganhoardens.com.orsomething, 15th march 2018 – accessed both 12:47am and 22:47pm because time is its own master and it says I exist in more than one place, lady!

Honestly, it isn’t as streamline as I’ve made it sound. I don’t switch from happy to sad, quite frankly I spend most of my time in close to lunatic mode where I latch on to something in my brain and I just lose it. That’s the only way I can really describe it. I feel like I should start a dear diary, that actually explains how a day can go. I know in the past I had wanted to talk about self-harm but I don’t think I ever got to that. I’m sure it will be off-putting to read but I feel like I have some things to say about that state of mind. I’ll have to check my Christmas posts to see if I said anything but I have a feeling that in the end I didn’t. I’m not doing that right now so if anyone made it this far and is concerned, I’m sorry and thank you, but it’s okay! None of that at the minute! Maybe that’s why it would be easier to talk about.

Right, I actually have a splitting headache and a ferret to check on.

I hope you are well,

Arbie X

 

This post is quite negative so in the hopes of reaching out and spreading some positivity: fruit salad with cold custard is amazing. Really, seriously, amazing. Damn, I want more. Should I?

 

 

 

 

 

Suicidal Flies and Teacakes

I was wondering what to write about today. I used to do these Sunday blogs on the regular for the wholeeee of October. That’s a big deal for me. Commitment (I’m ashamed to say) isn’t something I can do often. I’m writing this and forgetting what I’ve written right after, and so now I’m wondering why I don’t try write this instead after I’ve exercised instead because my head was a bunch clearer after it yesterday.

I’ll be writing a blog post about it properly next Saturday so I won’t go into it much at all here. All I’ll say is that the boost in my mood was AWESOME.

 

20180311_162549
I was a very happy gremlin

 

 

 Oh, I wrote a poem about boobs (probably not what you’re thinking – actually what could you be thinking?) that I haven’t posted yet because I’m not sure it’s something I want to share. Actually… sod it, what’s the point in this blog if I’m thinking twice about what I should and shouldn’t post because what people might think of me. I have hang ups about my body, big shock there to anyone who has been reading my blog for some time!

 

Let’s do this together. Are you ready? Let’s hit post. Damn, what do I tag this? If you haven’t noticed, I suck at using tags. Let’s tag it something to do with jelly because I’m hungry and I want jelly. I’m imagining you guys who normally comment sitting beside me and we’re posting this together. Why am I nervous? I wish I could tell when it was real nerves or fake nerves because my brain doesn’t know how to brain.

Seriously laptop? You want to do a Windows updates now? How many times have we spoken about this?

Now we’re stalling.

*Hit’s post.*

Okay, we did it! You know reading it back I can’t help but wonder if I’ve used some of those lines before. Or, if I’ve just had them in my head for some time. Ever have that feeling? It’s strange. I write about not feeling good enough when it comes to my appearance and I read other’s expressing the same feelings. What about intellect though? There is so much I want to learn and so little that I know, why am I spending more time posting about external and not internal. I want to make a change to that. Especially as I try reign in negative thoughts and expand my knowledge (doesn’t that sound fancy? Or kind of terrifying if you imagine a brain swelling… oh lord!) Yes, we’ll do that. Once the lines hit we’ll start a tapping.

 writing

Speaking of tapping, that has no link to this what so ever, actually no! Given people will say “I’d tap that” it totally does! I installed an app called Bottled. It’s a message in a bottle app where you write a message and then fling it into the ocean and someone will find it, open it, and then either release or keep it. If they keep it they’ll then message you, if they fancy it.

Eh heh heh heh.

I’m laughing because this kind of app just screamed mischief to me. It also, so I thought, could open the door for a little interactive fiction with other users. Let me show you instead what happened when I decided I’d be a genie, and what naïve me should have expected to happen. I did used to venture into chatrooms, after all.

 

I hope that after this experience the above user will go on to lead a happy and healthy sex life. He really should have been more specific in his wishes! Well, at least he’ll have a nice song to sing along to.

I don’t think I’ll be using Bottled for much longer, it was a fun novelty app but because I’m not really too interested in chatting with folks (read: I’d get nervous and not know what to say) I think I’m over it. Back to the language learning apps and having a lady shout chicken at me in Japanese. NIWATORI! I think it’s my new favourite word. Either that or I’ve been brain washed into thinking it is.

180311_133356_rmscr

I actually left this post alone and went to work out. My head was so fuzzy I was hoping it would help. I think it might have a little. I read through this post and found so many weird errors because my brain was having a field day – meaning it wasn’t there.

eeehh

 

Oh! Why I titled this blog what I did – spring is coming into its own and with it is coming a gang of small flies that are desperate to get in my mouth. Seriously, I’ve already eaten two. I really don’t want to eat them but they keep just flying on in there. Stahp flies… stahp. Uhm, as for the teacakes bit. I just liked it. I actually ate crumpets instead. With a cuppa tea. Evenin’ guvnor!

I’m sorry this is another mish mash of words. I’m going to start getting things on track – or trying to.

 

Sunday – Blog post

Any day – poem

Wednesday – An idea I’m stealing

Friday – Meet me in Another World

Saturday – Fitness update (this will also include how it has helped – or not – my mental health)

 

 

Let’s just try stick to that for now. Or is that too much? I mean in the end people can read or not read whatever they want!

I hope you’re all well and having a wonderful weekend! Did anything happen that made you smile? I hope so!

Arbie X

 

 

 

 

The Other Side of Here

I cast a shadow across my own footsteps

and hear hers through small puddles of water

Without letting my touch skim the surface

she plays in the remnants of a still night’s storm

 

Her eyes of mine

shining in a way

that shows laughter reaches them too

In the place that rains

above and under here

 

I expect she is in company and prefers that

of more than just her own

enjoying the cold of this street

with the one whose love she never questions

The same path where I wrap my arms around my chest

hers held tight by another

While I try recall

when I first led people to believe

that I wanted them to walk away

 

She spins softly, giddy in the presence of love

a kiss placed on her lips

the answer to a question she need not ask

and standing before him

she is beautiful in the glow of his eyes

 

A second passes

to pace our world’s

as so never the two shall meet

But in it I pause

and glance to where a not so different memory took place

Beneath a sky that found no stillness in its storm

a kiss that made promises it could not keep

somewhere not far from here