• 17th April
    2014
  • 17

And 4 years ago today somebody decided to start a war with me.

Guess what, motherfucker, I’m apparently ‘stronger’ than you thought I was, because I’m still here. I may not be the same person I was back then, and I may be covered in the injuries of war, but I’m still standing. 

So fuck you. Fuck you you cowardly asshole. Fuck. You. 

No matter how bad it hurts, no matter how many times I want to give up, I won’t. If for no other reason than I’m not letting you win this war. And if there’s an endgame type situation for all this, bring it on, motherfucker.

  • 16th April
    2014
  • 16
  • 12th April
    2014
  • 12

My day-

  • Grab an item or two at an estate sale where everybody that works there knows you so they know when you’re having a bad day/week/month…and do so without incident.
  • Try to eat a damn salad for lunch, have a triggering song come on over the restaurant’s music speaker system, panic and lock self in bathroom to sob for a bit.
  • Grab purse & GTFO of there because nothing good can come of this.
  • Realize you took your panic/extreme anxiety meds out of your damn purse so having a nervous breakdown in the parking lot will have to just go ahead and happen.
  • Go home as fast as possible. ‘Cause fuck all this shit.

  • 11th April
    2014
  • 11
  • 11th April
    2014
  • 11
The fact is that men at core are afraid that women will laugh at them. And, women at core are afraid that men will kill them, and often believe that if you’re not nice you increase the likelihood of danger and risk, when in fact, the exact opposite is true. It’s when you’re nice that you open up and give information, that you engage with someone you don’t want to talk to.

Gavin de Becker (via jenniferslookingglass)

Read the last sentence of that quote. Read it again. And again. And again.

I am very, very, very protective of who I let get close enough to me to know the ‘real’ me. The me that doesn’t post certain parts of my life on this blog. The me that reacts one of two ways when people try to engage me and I’m uncomfortable with it-by shaking, sobbing, and full on melting down…or flat out rage. The me that would rather die than allow another human being inside my home.

I know exactly what can happen if somebody knows too much about you because you just wanted to be ‘nice’ to them. I know letting people become ‘close friends’ can turn into a living nightmare, simply because they know you so well. I know what can happen when somebody knows all your strengths, weaknesses, and fears and decides to use them all against you. 

I stopped being ‘nice’ in April of 2010. April 18th, to be exact. That little voice that had always been in my head telling me to ‘be nice’ to people even if they were making me feel uncomfortable or unsafe because it would make somebody physically attacking me less likely…that voice died. It was replaced by the most strict ‘boundaries’ possible…and the knowledge that sometimes being nice can get your life stomped into so many pieces that going on 5 years later you still can’t find all the little shards.

And y’all…seriously, learn to trust yourself well enough to follow your true/raw intuition. If somebody is giving you a bad vibe, don’t ignore it. Even if you can’t pinpoint what it is that’s making you feel that way, do not ignore it. That intuition is there for a reason.

  • 11th April
    2014
  • 11
  • 9th April
    2014
  • 09
  • 9th April
    2014
  • 09
They tell me I’ll be happy one day. But I do not even remember what happiness feels like. I can not remember what happiness is. So how in the world am I ever supposed to know if I’m happy?

-NDB (via darling-waitforme)

I remember the last times I felt happy. April 9 & 10, 2010 were the last days I remember being able to feel some version of happiness coupled with a sense of safety. I was so fucking naive for thinking that way…

(Source: drugsandgin-are-my-sins, via darling-waitforme)

  • 25th March
    2014
  • 25
  • 25th March
    2014
  • 25

Inner dialogue-

*Wonders why anxiety levels are through the roof. Wonders wtf is going on. Looks over & sees the date & then a flashback that feels like it has been going on for weeks decides to come say hi.*

C’mon, brain…you don’t need to be a total asshole. I’ll even do some extra self-care if you’ll chill out a bit. Work with me & chill out a bit, ok? 

And while I understand that you block out certain things to ‘protect’ me, flooding me with things and including every tiny detail possible at once is NOT helping my cause right now.

  • 5th January
    2014
  • 05

Fun Fact-

Part of the reason I haven’t posted anything about National Stalking Awareness Month the past couple days is because I’m scared if I ‘say’ too much it’ll anger a certain person & that would be…bad.

But tomorrow…tomorrow I will be brave. Tomorrow I will. 

  • 1st January
    2014
  • 01

Friendly reminder for my fellow spoonies/depression people/anxiety people/all kinds of things…

For the first time in ‘Merica…Cymbalta is available as a generic drug.  I even found it as a generic at a pharmacy. Expensive as fuck Cymbalta that does all kinds of helpful things for people is motherfuckin’ generic in this country. The price is slated to go down as much as 80-90% for those folks paying out of pocket…so let us cheer that Eli Lilly will no longer make up to 22% of their 22.6 BILLION dollars in revenue from a drug that was already a generic in all the other first world countries on the planet.

image

(For the people that do not understand the gravity of this situation, be thankful for that.)

 

  • 29th December
    2013
  • 29

Please prepare for a few ‘Ginger Made That’ posts. ‘Cause y’all…I ‘survived’ my first year in a business I literally fell into.

I. Survived.

Through wrecking UHauls to literally freezing myself to paint ‘incidents’ to ‘golden camels’ to watching fragile antique pieces of glass shatter to pieces because I’m clumsy as hell…I survived my first year in a business I never in a million years would’ve thought I can do, much less do well at. Y’all, this whole thing was a legit experiment where when I failed somebody would give me a ‘you tried’ star & I’d go cry that I fail at adulting. 

I haven’t gotten that star. I’m oddly proud that it hasn’t happened. ‘Cause this is me…Ginger…that will never be ‘good’ at things, because anxiety/PTSD/depression/lupus/fibro/etc. would be all ‘hahaha, no’ & I’d fail in an epic way. But I didn’t. 

Guise…what the fuck is going on. What. The. Fuck.

3 years ago if you’d told me I’d be able to do anything that involved doing more than going to my mailbox once a week I’d tell you that you were a liar & then go continue to hide in my closets all day long. I don’t know what the fuck happened between then & now…but I’m gonna keep on doing these baby steps or some shit.

  • 20th December
    2013
  • 20

This is a ‘live’ post.

  • Ginger is ‘alive’
  • PTSD is evil
  • PTSD is literal hell
  • Having her ‘remember’ things she’s blocked out for years is not a ‘learning experience’…its scary as fuck and she wants to punch her own brain for doing it
  • Ginger is too stubborn to take her panic attack meds
  • Ginger just realized she has a terrible connection with the date of the 17th in more than one month
  • Ginger is going to go puke her guts out again and hope this is over soon

Don’t worry…Ginger always makes it out alive. Always.

  • 19th December
    2013
  • 19

Ok, Ginger must unplug from the interwebz for a while…

'Cause apparently yesterday triggered a giant floodgate of PTSD hot mess-ness…and I'm not gonna possibly totally go off the rails while possibly dissociated or anything of that nature.

I’ll be fine, y’all, so no worries. Really. The queue is on. Enjoy whatever happens to pop up.