Has it really been 5 years?!
I've decided to start blogging again. I need a safe way to express myself. I've been through so much these last 5 years and I think that journaling and blogging will be therapeutic for me. Maybe this will be the beginning of my climb out of depression. I certainly hope so. I've had so much stress, depression and dark emotions for far too long now. Writing has been difficult for me. Writer's block is an understatement. But now I feel that I have the strength to push through. I began journaling again yesterday. Not a long entry but it's a start.
Before I go any further...
I really must give my heartfelt thanks to some special friends I have on Twitter. No names here but you know who you are. Thank you so much for all of your support and encouragement. You have helped me survive this mess that is my present life. If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't have started writing again.
I won't be posting all of my journal entries here and not everything I post here will be coming from my journal. My goal here is, as I said, self-therapy -- wherever that may lead me. My writing may be awkward for awhile so please bear with me. What I started with:
25 May 2018
This nightmare began a little over a year ago. We were living with <name redacted> (aka Dork) in half of the duplex his mother owns. Things weren’t perfect but it was home. There were numerous maintenance issues which the mother didn’t want to spend the money to fix. We did however have a washer and dryer. And we had satellite TV and internet. The rent was cheap compared to anywhere we could find. Late 2016 / early 2017 the mother decided that Dork should live in her basement. Being his payee, you could say this was forced upon him. We could not afford the rent without him. Thus the nightmare began.
I’m not going to write out every detail here. Maybe someday I'll fill in the blanks. We lived in motels for maybe 1 1/2 months. Maybe 2. “We” being myself, husband, son and 3 cats: Evie, Haine and Mossy. Then the inevitable happened. We could no longer stay in the motels. On July 17, 2017 we had to move into a homeless shelter. Oh, excuse me. “Emergency housing center”. And we had to give up our precious kitties. My heart broke. I was emotionally dependent on Evie. Losing her tore me apart. I was in and out of the hospital for a few months. I thought it was my heart. It may well have been anxiety. Quite honestly, though I was not diagnosed as such, I believe I had a nervous breakdown. I still cry. I still mourn losing Evie. I miss all 3 of the kitties. I loved – still love – them. But Evie. She was my special angel. Gods how I miss her. I will always pray for a miracle, that someday I will get her back.
Someday I will write about life in the shelter. Excuse me, emergency housing center. Perhaps my repeated use of the word “nightmare” will give a hint. Yesterday though. Yesterday I finally was given hope. We received a letter from the Jeffersonville Housing Authority informing us that we have been placed on the waiting list for housing! This nightmare may come to an end soon! We have yet to fill out the full application but we've made it passed the first step.
26 May
Recently I have been exploring the idea of a persona or alter ego. "Me" if I were born differently. Different life, different schooling, different location, different class. The “me” that I would like to be. Of course, being a gamer (mostly table-top RPGs), this “me” would have some kind of super power or mutant ability etc.
Oh no! Personal info! Yes this other “me” would be male. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a boy. Whenever I would play pretend I always was a boy. Well, at least 90% of the time. Yes, I'm trans though I rarely talk about it openly. Until now. And this male “me” wouldn’t be straight. He would be somewhere on the LGBT scale. I’m getting the chance to explore this now in an RPG that I and my family are setting up. The character I'm creating is this “me”.
I have a name for him. Ransley Windsor Nocturne. He's Goth and maybe a little Steampunk. I’m still working out some of the details. As far as game mechanics go, the *roll* part of role-playing, he's done. Unless I want to tweak something here and there. It the *role* part that I'm still working on. Who is Ransley? I have an image that I love. It’s perfect. I found it in a Google search for Goth boys. It’s from someone's DeviantArt page. Here.
Before I go any further...
I really must give my heartfelt thanks to some special friends I have on Twitter. No names here but you know who you are. Thank you so much for all of your support and encouragement. You have helped me survive this mess that is my present life. If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't have started writing again.
I won't be posting all of my journal entries here and not everything I post here will be coming from my journal. My goal here is, as I said, self-therapy -- wherever that may lead me. My writing may be awkward for awhile so please bear with me. What I started with:
25 May 2018
This nightmare began a little over a year ago. We were living with <name redacted> (aka Dork) in half of the duplex his mother owns. Things weren’t perfect but it was home. There were numerous maintenance issues which the mother didn’t want to spend the money to fix. We did however have a washer and dryer. And we had satellite TV and internet. The rent was cheap compared to anywhere we could find. Late 2016 / early 2017 the mother decided that Dork should live in her basement. Being his payee, you could say this was forced upon him. We could not afford the rent without him. Thus the nightmare began.
I’m not going to write out every detail here. Maybe someday I'll fill in the blanks. We lived in motels for maybe 1 1/2 months. Maybe 2. “We” being myself, husband, son and 3 cats: Evie, Haine and Mossy. Then the inevitable happened. We could no longer stay in the motels. On July 17, 2017 we had to move into a homeless shelter. Oh, excuse me. “Emergency housing center”. And we had to give up our precious kitties. My heart broke. I was emotionally dependent on Evie. Losing her tore me apart. I was in and out of the hospital for a few months. I thought it was my heart. It may well have been anxiety. Quite honestly, though I was not diagnosed as such, I believe I had a nervous breakdown. I still cry. I still mourn losing Evie. I miss all 3 of the kitties. I loved – still love – them. But Evie. She was my special angel. Gods how I miss her. I will always pray for a miracle, that someday I will get her back.
Someday I will write about life in the shelter. Excuse me, emergency housing center. Perhaps my repeated use of the word “nightmare” will give a hint. Yesterday though. Yesterday I finally was given hope. We received a letter from the Jeffersonville Housing Authority informing us that we have been placed on the waiting list for housing! This nightmare may come to an end soon! We have yet to fill out the full application but we've made it passed the first step.
26 May
Recently I have been exploring the idea of a persona or alter ego. "Me" if I were born differently. Different life, different schooling, different location, different class. The “me” that I would like to be. Of course, being a gamer (mostly table-top RPGs), this “me” would have some kind of super power or mutant ability etc.
Oh no! Personal info! Yes this other “me” would be male. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a boy. Whenever I would play pretend I always was a boy. Well, at least 90% of the time. Yes, I'm trans though I rarely talk about it openly. Until now. And this male “me” wouldn’t be straight. He would be somewhere on the LGBT scale. I’m getting the chance to explore this now in an RPG that I and my family are setting up. The character I'm creating is this “me”.
I have a name for him. Ransley Windsor Nocturne. He's Goth and maybe a little Steampunk. I’m still working out some of the details. As far as game mechanics go, the *roll* part of role-playing, he's done. Unless I want to tweak something here and there. It the *role* part that I'm still working on. Who is Ransley? I have an image that I love. It’s perfect. I found it in a Google search for Goth boys. It’s from someone's DeviantArt page. Here.
I think he’s so beautiful! I’m very drawn to this image but I don’t think I can adequately describe why. I know that part of it is his eyes. And I love his hair. Part of why I chose this image as Ransley is that he embodies what I didn't have. As a teenager I was not allowed to color my hair. I was in my 20s the first time I colored my hair. As for his nose piercing, I used to have one. I might get my nose pierced again someday.
Someday. There's that word. "Someday I will... " Story of my life. Enough of "someday". I need to focus on today.
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