{ 24.4.01 }

I would just like to announce that I am a Candle Whore. (Prompted by this thread at the Hissyfit forums.)

I've had to control myself lately - no good stocking up on scented and other candles when I'm god-knows-how-soon from leaving the country - but once there is an apartment and a home to furnish, I'm going on a candle-buying spree - all scented, all the time. Vanilla, lavender, blueberry, whatever I can get my hands on... and I'm definitely seeking out the Green Grass and Storm Watch varieties from Yankee Candle.

Yay, candles. Fire, fire! <maniacal Beavis laugh>

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{ 21.4.01 }

You may have noticed that updates have been a little less than forthcoming - well, there could be more activity from this point on. I had to move the site in order to escape prying eyes, which might seem like a silly move since I can still be found, and I tend to be an attention seeker (which is why I keep a site in the first place..!), but it should safely keep this stuff from two of the more abusive people in my life.

What some people don't understand is that writing and other methods of creative expression are a release... when I write about my feelings and my pain I do so to get it out of my system, to let myself be heard, to heal. I know from experience that bottling things up inside isn't the best way of coping, so I scrawl in my notebook or journal, take some pictures, cry, throw something up here, redesign my site. It grounds me, lets me be as melodramatic as I want to be in my own space, helps me move on from the things that hurt me. So when an abusive family member came here and later told me to my face that my writing makes me a "sick person" or a "psycho", it made me want to hide for a while. I wanted to lay low and not take a chance on expressing myself to the few that read and might understand what I'm going through.

Well, I'm sick of being called a no-hoper, a loser, a waste of space and time, a fuckwit, an idiot, a psycho, a pathetic person "who wants to blame all of [her] problems on everyone else", and everything else that's been thrown at me. I'm sick of being told to kill myself, I'm sick of having my problems thrown in my face, I'm sick of being taunted for my coping methods. This is my place and I can express these problems if I wish; I can tell you how bad I feel and also tell you how happy I feel, on the occasions that joy does alight upon my life (and it happens!). I can share my recipes and tell you what TV shows I like and recommend a book or a song or throw up one of my poems, and I don't want to be afraid that someone I know will come and knock it all down (I have enough sense not to put stock in the negative opinions of strangers; it's slightly harder to ignore the negative opinions of people who have been dousing you in their own negativity for your entire life).

So, that's why I moved, long, rambling version.

I hope you made it here - if not, then I'm just talking to myself, aren't I..? ;-)

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