The Raven's Song

This is personal and embarrassing and this makes me highly uncomfortable but I need to write this out anyway. Whether or not I publish this... I'm not sure yet. Might as well be blunt. I need a breast reduction for medical reasons. But surgeons don't like taking Medicaid for such things because, to be honest, they can charge more for other insurances and people who pay upfront. So I'm having no luck finding a surgeon who would be willing to help me. My PCP's office is trying to help me. They are working with Medicaid to see if they can find any surgeon will to do this. I'm so sick of this. I have constant back pain. This really is a medical necessity for me but the damned surgeons are just so greedy. All they care about is how much money they can make instead of worrying about actually helping someone in need. I really don't know what to do anymore. I had briefly thought about a GFM but I decided against it. I don't even know how much the surgery would cost.

Is there such a thing as starting your Craft over? I need to back up and refresh myself. My Practice has been so disrupted for so long that I'm not feeling like I'm getting anywhere. Part of this disruption is due to a number of circumstances beyond my control. Part of this is due to my health, both physical and mental. And part of this, I would assume, is due to my Catholic upbringing. I've called myself Pagan, Wiccan and a Witch for decades but I still feel like a novice. I don't feel like the Crone that I should be at my age. I got the Calling in the mid 80s. I had one mentor and one book. The internet wasn't a thing then and books were hard to come by where I lived. I no longer have that mentor but I have many books. Plus I have the internet and my many Witchy friends online. I have a wonderful support system, but I still feel like an imposter. I don't connect with my Deities the way that I feel like I should. I should clarify that I have this horrible habit

 Where do I even begin? I've tried writing this before but the words just don't want to flow. I don't even have a subject to write about. I don't want to write about my hospital stay or my heart attack. Twitter already knows all about that. So does Hiero. So what do I write about? I've written about haunted houses that I've been in. I've written about my lack of self-confidence and self-esteem. I'm at a loss here. I haven't been following my practice. I haven't been praying or meditating. I haven't been making offerings. I feel so bad about this. I don't even know what to offer. Given my current circumstances I don't know if I can meditate. I'm going to try though. I have to do something to get back into things. Otherwise I'll start getting imposter syndrome really bad. The speakers on my laptop don't work now. And my headphones aren't reliable anymore. So that makes things difficult as well. There's always my phon

 All of my life, ever since I was a child, I've lacked self-confidence and self-esteem. I never felt like I was good enough. Why? Certain family members, for one thing. They never seemed to believe in me. My mother was so controlling that I rarely got to make decisions for myself. Some of my other relatives were just as bad for my self-esteem. Nothing I did seemed good enough. Or, at least, that's how it came across to me. For another thing, the other kids at school. I never fit in with any of my classmates. I was the one who was made fun of, teased for any little thing. I was always picked on. They never gave me a chance. Knowing what I know now, I wish I could live that time over again and be a different person. I would just be quiet. I wouldn't say anything stupid. I would just... I don't know. But I wouldn't be the "me" that was.  This has spilled over into my adult life. I still feel like the misfit. I haven't talked to any of my family in years.

Have you ever been in a haunted house? I mean a real one, not the amusement ones. I have. The second time I was in a haunted house was terrifying. I'll save that story for last. The third one involved a house that a lady I knew was renovating. JoAnn was the mother of my then-boyfriend, Mike. I'll tell that story first. I was visiting with JoAnn while she was working on this house when she had to run an errand. I stayed behind with her dogs. To be honest, that house always seemed a little spooky to me. I always sensed that there was something there. I was sitting downstairs when I heard footsteps upstairs. Like I said, I was there alone with the dogs. You'd best believe that I got out of the house fast, taking the dogs out to the yard with me. When JoAnn returned I told her what had happened. Her response? "Oh that was probably…" and she proceeded to tell me about the man who used to live there. I think she said he died in that house. Apparently she used to know hi

 So many things are happening at once and it's all put me back on my Path. I'm so happy! I'm making progress! First off, I received the Calling from Thoth. I firmly believe that it's because of Him that I'm writing again. After so much writer's block I ended up writing two poems in a week. That may not seem like much to some people but for me this is progress.  Speaking of Path progress, I cast a candle magick spell yesterday. I hadn't practiced my Craft in so long. I was nervous, and rusty, but I did it. I lit a blue chime candle with the purpose of healing my soul. As an offering to Thoth I read one of my new poems. I could feel and sense little motes of energy surround me, healing me! Also! I have made a new friend who has already helped me a lot on my Path. Perhaps I have found a Sensei? We'd known each other online but we finally met in person last week. After just one meeting I feel like I've known him forever. We have so much in common! I feel

 I worry too much about certain things. I wish I had never been raised Catholic. Why can't I get over this? Why does it stick with me so much when I have not been Catholic for literally decades? I hate this so much. They have no right in baptizing little infants who cannot choose for themselves! I would never have chosen Catholicism for myself. I hated going to private parochial schools. Hated it! I don't want to be Catholic so why the fuck am I still stuck with all of this fucking guilt? They program this shit into you. If you are lucky you escape it. I guess I wasn't so lucky. I got out but the scars remain. 

  Finances mostly. OCD is making me obsess over things. Like stressing over being stressed. It’s a vicious circle. I want to replace my Dad's medals and ribbons. I'm stressing over that because it's so overwhelming. I don't have all of the information necessary. I need help with that. I at least know where to ask for help. So there's that. Just a matter of how much help can they give me.  I don't know when (if?) I'm getting my stimulus check. The IRS and SSA have been fucking over 30,000,000 million of us. My husband’s and son’s checks are in the mail, so there's that. Could arrive any day now. I want to get out of debt. I want to pay off <redacted> completely. I need this check badly. This stresses me out tremendously. Plus there's stuff that I don't "need" but I really want. Bastet perfume. Dragon Oracle deck. Witchy books. I don't think I'll be able to get the tattoo that I want. I want to get back into Magic: The Gathe

  From Monday, July 17, 2017 To, but not including, Thursday, November 1, 2018 Result: 472 days Or 1 year, 3 months, 15 days  Or 15 months, 15 days  -- Alternative time units -- 472 days can be converted to one of these units: 40,780,800 seconds 679,680 minutes 11,328 hours 472 days 67 weeks and 3 days That's how long my family and I spent in the Hell known as Haven House, a homeless shelter that serves approximately 14 counties in southern Indiana. To this day I'm still working through the trauma from that place.  Where do I even begin? The whole experience was so traumatic to me. I was an only child and was never around this many people. On any given night there were over 100 people there. Some were alcoholics. Some were on drugs. There were families. Some of the children were okay but the vast majority were horribly undisciplined. I was separated from my husband and son because, for safety reasons, the men were on a different floor than the women. I had serious separation an

I used to have arachnophobia really, REALLY bad. However, I did have a morbid fascination with tarantulas. I have no idea why. Then one day I was at a certain pet shop that happened to sell tarantulas. I stood there for awhile watching this beautiful female rosehair. (The clerk had told me what she was.) I told the clerk about my arachnophobia and morbid fascination with tarantulas. He asked me if I wanted to hold her. He said that the female rosehairs were very gentle. I don't know what possessed me but I ended up saying yes. He placed the tarantula on the back of my hand and she started to walk around. She was so so soft! I don't know why that surprised me. I mean, you can look at a tarantula and see the fur. After the clerk put the tarantula away he asked me if I wanted to hold a black scorpion. Nope! I wasn't that brave. I just did not have to same courage with the scorpion as I did with the tarantula. I don't know why. I think looking at its tail really intimidated