A haven for creative people living with mental illness. This is the place where you can tell it like it is, not yet another place where you have to pretend to be someone you've been told you should be.
Monday, November 14, 2022
Open Book Blog Hop: Negative Feedback
Saturday, July 30, 2022
Blow Your Stack Saturday/Snippet Sunday/Weekend Writing Warriors 30 July 2022
On July 5, I received a few books that I ordered from Thriftbooks.
You, the reader, need to check out Thriftbooks.
One of the books was The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.
I wrote my name in my new book the way I did when I was a little kid.
“This book is the property of Ornery Owl, July 2022.”
Okay, I didn’t write the Ornery Owl name when I was a little kid because I didn’t think of that one until 2019. But The Artist’s Way is the property of Ornery Owl, because that is the persona that will heal the rest of me.
One of the first things Julia talked about is writing three journal pages every day. These are supposed to be handwritten. I don’t know if that’s going to happen.
OFFICIAL SNIPPET END
(Spoiler: it's been happening all month. I'm actually kind of surprised.)
I've really been struggling this year, so thank you for indulging me with this snippet from something that may or may not ever be published depending on how evil I'm feeling. If I'm feeling especially evil, I will probably unleash it on the world.)
Friday, July 29, 2022
Friday Book Hop 29 July 2022
Friday, May 20, 2022
Book Beginnings/First Line Friday: The Maestro Monologue
I've been having a little trouble coming to terms with myself this year. If this book can help me get closer to doing that, then it will exceed my expectations. It's well written, but I often find that self-help books only get me so far. I tend to engage better when I'm able to do something active, like play a game or answer a question.
Back in school, I always learned better through games than with methods such as flashcards. I had a very good instructor for my medical terminology class in nursing. She noticed that I was distracted when practicing with the flashcards. She said, "you aren't getting anything out of this, are you?"
Surprised, I said, "honestly, no."
She said, "then try some of the other activities and find one that works for you."
I excelled when doing the crossword puzzles and other word games and ended up with an A in the class.
I like to discuss learning and coping strategies for ADHD because I hope that if someone recognizes themselves in the stories I'm telling, they'll realize that they aren't stupid, they simply learn and interact with the world differently. Many people have been punished for not learning in a very specific, rigid way.
Okay ProWritingAid, that's a terrible suggestion. ProWritingAid is telling me that I should replace "many people have been punished" with "I have punished many people." I did nothing of the kind, and I resent that accusation.
That's about it for now. I may do these blog hops again, although I tend to be a sporadic participant.
~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~
Friday, September 17, 2021
Abra-Ca-Duh, I Answered an Old Question
Day 19
17 September 2021
Spirit of the Universe, please set aside everything I
think I know about myself, about my story, about my need for validation, and
especially about you, Universe, so that I may have an open mind and a new
experience with myself, with my story, with my need for validation, and with
you, Universe. Please help me to see the truth. Amen.
I am having trouble remaining consistent with this project. I’ve
noticed that the middle of the month tends to be an absolute fucking black
hole. A whole bunch of things seem to hit in the middle of the month. Perhaps
the beginning of the month starts out hopeful, and at the end of the month I
feel like, “well, thank fuck that shit’s over with.” It’s always the middle
when I have emotional collapses because I feel overwhelmed.
I’m going to tie this entry with the question for the Open
Book Blog Hop.
https://daryldevore.blogspot.com/2021/08/my-inagural-visit-to-openbook-blog-hop.html
However, rather than share it on either the Naughty
Netherworld Press blog
https://bit.ly/NaughtyNetherworldPress
or Readers Roost
I am sharing the answer at the Crazy Creatives Cheerleading
Camp.
Here are the questions:
What’s something you look forward to as you age? And what do
you miss from your youth?
And here are the answers.
The thing I was looking forward to as I aged already happened.
Menopause.
I had 40 years of periods from hell. I had a relatively easy
menopause starting at age 52. I never had the full-on blast furnace hot flashes
that some women describe. I had what are known as ember flashes. These last
longer, 20 to 30 minutes on average, but I felt warm rather than hot.
The only part of this experience that wasn’t so great was
the post-menopausal bleeding that I experienced. 2018 was the year that
revolved around my plumbing, and I didn’t enjoy it one single bit. A D&C
revealed that I have simple hyperplasia with normal cells and a uterus full of
tiny fibroids.
This condition presents with a 1.6% increased chance that I
will eventually develop endometrial cancer, as opposed to a woman who has no
endometrial hyperplasia. For that small an increase, I opted not to have a
hysterectomy. If I had presented with complex hyperplasia or abnormal cells,
the increased chance of developing endometrial cancer rises to 36%, and with
both factors, the chance increases to 50%. If any of these scenarios had been
the case, I would have had a hysterectomy.
I will have a hysterectomy if there is ever a compelling
reason for me to have a D&C again. It felt like someone went up in my
business with a cheese grater. I’m not using my uterus, so if I must suffer the
indignities of invasive procedures, at this point I’d opt to have the damn
thing removed and be done with it rather than enduring another cheese grater
incident.
In any case, I think I’ve enjoyed what I was looking forward
to with aging: the end to miserable menstruation. My periods were always
painful and heavy to the point of hemorrhage. I’m glad to be done with them. As
far as the rest of the aging process, maybe I can look forward to becoming even
more of a curmudgeon while giving ever fewer fucks. Other than that, I’m afraid
it sounds like more aches, pains, and things breaking down. Yay? Nay!
What do I miss from my youth?
That feeling of starry-eyed hope.
At this point, I’m too god damn jaded to ever feel that
again without some sort of significant win. I’d have to get The Big One, and to
be honest, I’m not particularly hopeful about that transpiring.
Sorry if my honesty is a bummer, but I prefer to tell it
like it is.
Ornery Owl has Spoken.
Dear Divine Spirit of the Universe, please help me to
keep learning and growing at every age.
Saturday, December 5, 2020
Barriers
Barriers
5 December 2020
Written in response to the Tale Weaver prompt “Barriers.”
https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/12/03/tale-weaver-304-barriers-december-3rd/
What barriers exist in your life?
Are they barriers that can be overcome?
I will probably use this prompt to create both a fiction and
a non-fiction piece. It is inspiring thoughts for the latest chapter in my WIP,
The Key Of Eidolon. However, I also have answers to the above questions.
I have both physical and psychological barriers to
accomplishing my goals. They don’t stop me from trying, but they make things
harder.
There are physical goals that I will never be able to
accomplish because of my handicaps.
At this point, I can walk up to two miles a day using an
upright walker. Without the upright walker, I can only manage between a quarter
of a mile and a half mile, and a half mile is pushing it. I never thought I
would be having to use a walker at 55 years old, and the promotional material
for this item indicates that no-one else thinks that people my age are using
such a device at my age either.
We need to stop with the assumption that only elderly people
need assistive devices or that there is some sort of shame in needing an
assistive device if you are not elderly. I have a lot of problems with my back.
I am not ashamed to use this device, but I am very conscious of the fact that
people are conscious of my use of it and some of them pity me for it.
I have diabetes. This is a disease that can be managed, but,
conversely to the bill of goods that some overpriced snake oil sellers are
trying to hand you, there is no cure for it. Type 2 diabetes does occasionally
go into remission, but this happens so seldom that I do not expect it any more
than I expect to grow several inches taller.
Diabetes does not really frighten me. I am aware that it
makes me vulnerable to kidney failure, which also doesn’t particularly frighten
me, although I would not want it. The one that scares me is the vulnerability
to strokes and vascular dementia. Fuck a whole lot of that shit. Fortunately, I
also take antihypertensive medication, so my blood pressure remains in the safe
zone.
My thyroid destroyed itself when I was in my early teens, so
I have been on and off thyroid medications since then. I can’t tolerate
Synthroid. It gave me headaches and it almost put me in the E.R. because it was
elevating my blood pressure and heart rate so much. Rather than consider that
the Synthroid was the culprit, the doctor I was seeing at the time blamed my
weight for causing my blood pressure to rise and put me on propranolol, which
is a beta blocker. I have asthma. Beta blockers make me feel like I’m breathing
underwater.
Because of the panic attacks I was experiencing when I
became tachycardic (talk about your vicious feedback loops), he also put me on
clonazepam. I tend to have paradoxical reactions to benzodiazepines, and I had
the worst panic attack of my life. I went off ever single one of the
medications. It took me three months to return to normally abnormal.
I have been on Armour thyroid for the past 14 years. My
current P.A. has adjusted the dosage a couple of times to strike a balance
between my TSH reading and my blood pressure and pulse. We seem to have found
the sweet spot. I like my current P.A., who has been respectful and treats the
patient rather than the chart.
Alas, although my TSH is now in the zone, I am still tired
all the time. It is what it is.
I have been trying to get on disability this year. I have
been working with a lawyer, and it is still taking forever. I lived in a state
of constant anxiety for literal decades due to not being able to sleep properly
because I was afraid that I would oversleep. I worked night shift because it
worked out better for me than day shift. However, I can no longer do the
punishing physical work that I used to do.
My son and I moved to a remote rural area in September of
2019, and we both love this house and this town very much. My son is
high-functioning autistic. He has a lot of skills and he is physically
able-bodied, but he has never been able to work a normal job.
Both of us would be happy enough to do certain types of
remote work. However, even though it has been shown through the pandemic that
certain jobs can be done remotely, nobody wants to hire the smelly poors or
icky disabled people.
My physical appearance has also been a barrier to achieving
certain of my goals, including, oddly enough, my writing goals. You’d think
that it wouldn’t matter if a writer has a good face for radio, so to speak, but
I’ve seen that, at least with female writers, people tend to want us to be
pretty. Seriously, what the hell? Would looking like a beauty queen or a Playboy
centerfold make me a better writer? I get so fed up with the bullshit and am
disgusted that I’m still fighting the same battles at 55 that I was at 25.
So, what’s to be done? Well, I am nothing if not pig-headed,
so I will keep hammering away at things until I make some headway.
I’ve been working to craft my Rough Writer monthly zine,
which includes my WIP chapters, poems, and daily-ish nonfiction blather as well
as anything else I may write in a month. Sometimes I think that this is a great
idea and I’ll be sharing some wonderful wisdom. Other times I’m afraid it’s
just another one of my crackpot ideas and that I’m not nearly as deep as I imagine
myself to be. I suppose it remains to be seen, but at six bucks for some 50,000
words, you can’t beat the price!
And there you have my thoughts on the barriers in my life.
The Icky, Sticky, Nit-Picky Legalese If You Please (Or Don't Please)
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Wednesday, November 4, 2020
I Eat Myself
There is no calm at the eye of this hurricane
I attempt to be stoic while confronting the fiasco
Of fools who think it is their duty to command in patronizing voices
That I oughtn’t to overeat
When I am sitting at the table
Minding my own business while having a cup of gelato
I am not given to overeating or veisalgia these days
I do not enjoy the feeling of having overdone things
But despite my tendency to moderation, which is no-one’s business but my own
People who don’t even know me take it upon themselves
To be throwing their derision in my direction
Because I dare to exist in public while fat
And even to eat where I can be seen sometimes
I try to stand sturdy like an ilex
I try to bear up under the heat like irons in a fire
I try to add a ferrule of positive thinking to my arsenal of weapons
But I can feel the whirlwind of self-loathing brewing in my psyche
Turning my soul indigo in the face of disdain known all too well
There will be no waterfall of tears
I learned long ago not to cry
But the desire to destroy myself surfaces in my soul
The need to vomit up all I eat rises in my gullet
The self-loathing starts to consume me, and I wish I could eat myself from within
Nibble myself down bit by bit until I disappear
I once wanted to be pretty
Now I just want to be invisible
I can rail about the fact that my body betrayed me
My endocrine system went awry
Fat is what I am
Regardless of what I eat or how little
Though I damn well should not have to feel beholden to explain such things
And nor should anybody else
When you see a fat person that you don’t know
You can say hello with a genuine smile in your voice
Just like you would say to someone you wanted to fuck
Now, wasn’t that easy?
No need to moralize anyone’s body or food intake or appearance
No need to make anybody feel
As if they should eat themselves until they waste away
~cie~
369 words
prompts used
https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2020-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-4Saturday, October 24, 2020
Anxiety
http://www.octpowrimo.com/2020/10/octpowrimo-day-24.html


















































