Thank you, Mistress, may I have another?

So, normally I have nightmares. Very realistic, bloody, heart wrenching nightmares that wake me up sobbing. Not so last night. I had a dream which was ultimately more disturbing than any nightmare. You see, I'm reading The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Rice writing as A.N. Roquelaure, and I made the mistake of reading it right before bed. So, I dreamt of the book. I'll not go into the details of the dream, except to say that I was a slave in the BDSM sense. I woke up flinching away from a dream paddle and I swear to the gods, if anyone woulda tried to smack me today I would've probably gone psycho bitch on them. Definitely answered for me if I'd ever be into that kind of sacrifice of control. HUGE no. I'll stick with my much tamer proclivities, thank you very much. (I was going to say much more vanilla, but I realized that sexual asphyxiation is decidedly NOT vanilla...)I may like giving up some control once in a while, but no way in HELL would I ever turn myself over to another person's whims entirely. That said, I'm going to go to bed and HOPE to have nice, restful, vanilla dreams.

Off the grid?

I feel the down slide pulling at me, and while all I want is to reach out to my friends and cling to you like a life vest, that's not fair to any of you. There's just way too much for me to burden anyone else with it, and it's too far down into my well of blackness. For every hour of happiness I have, my brain has to take it's pound of flesh, and I was extremely happy on my vacation. So, I guess now comes time to pay penance for that good time.

Holidays.

I hate them. Holidays in my family are never easy. Especially for me, the family outsider. I always get the task of rounding the troops, only to be left to hover on the fringes of the group once everyone's together. I just don't fit in. And I get seasonal depression. So, not fun. This year looks like it will be no exception. I've been fighting to get information/things in order since...oh, I don't know...friday? And all my efforts have resulted in is a mother who doesn't really want to go, a brother who doesn't seem to much want to go either...Hell, /I/ don't even really want to go. If it weren't for my Grandma Anglin and the fact that I rarely get to see her, I probably wouldn't. I worry about her, though. She worries herself sick over her family and she likes having us all in one place together so she can check up on everyone. I'm moving away soon, I guess I should suck it up and try and enjoy myself since family get togethers will be few and far in between once I'm gone.

This town kills me. Living in this house sucks the soul out of me. I can't wait to be gone. I didn't realize exactly how much weight just being here puts on my shoulders until I spent some time away. *sigh*

Giving thanks.

It is 3:45am, and I've been home for about 45 minutes. I had a mini vacation to KY, and then TN. All told, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday I was in some sort of vehicle for approximately 28 hours. I am body weary and my anxiety levels are through the roof, but underneath the surface static there is a sense of peace and happiness that wasn't there prior to last Thursday. Being in a place with people I was comfortable being myself around, and who made me feel wanted, and not like I was a burden or an unwanted observer standing at the edge of the room, healed some of the injury my soul's taken on in the past few years. It wasn't even so much the things we did while I was there, (though going to my first Amanda Palmer concert with Nikki and Penny was one of my top 10 best experiences EVER)it was just that Austin and Nikki made me feel completely at home. It's very hard for me to connect with people nowadays, and that I felt entirely comfortable with them so quickly had me kind of in awe. Especially since, in reality, I've only known them for a handful of months online. Though, the duration of a relationship, friendship or romantic holds far less importance to me than the depth of said relationship.

Friends. I am thankful for my friends, both online and in person, old and new. Without the select few I've let into my life, I would be a shell of a person. My friends are what keeps my head above water. So, to you few, thank you from the very depths of my heart.

The concert was transcendent. I spent the hours leading up to it in a state of near anxiety attack, and had to take double the ativan I normally take, but it was worth it to be there and see Amanda Palmer work her magic. She opened by coming in the doors at the rear of the theater, marching band style and proceeded to rock the fuck out for the next...hour? Two? I don't even know. I was in a complete daze, as always happens to me when I'm seeing a band/performer that is important to me live. I couldn't tell you the setlist, I only remember a handful of what she played, but I can tell you that I was moved between joy and laughter and excitement to painful tears in the course of the set. The venue was amazing, a beautiful old theater with velveteen seats and carved cherubs above the balconies...not my favorite kind of venue, I prefer standing room only to seated concerts, but it definitely suited the show. I met Beth Hommel, Amanda's assistant, whose blogs I've been reading for a while, and I found her to be awesome. I "met" Amanda briefly when she signed autographs after the show, I saw Bitch from the now defunct Bitch and Animal (who I LOVED back in the day)when she joined Amanda onstage for her cover of "That's not my name" by the Ting Tings, and also saw her at the merch table later. Penny met some of the guys from The Nervous Cabaret, who opened for/backed Amanda's set, and who were also awesome.

Music. I am thankful for music. It fuels me, feeds me. It calms me when I am at my breaking point and it fires me up when I'm lacking fuel to go on. It inspires me to create. It touches me in places nothing else can reach. Without it in my life I would probably go completely insane.

"Quod me nutrit, me destruit" would probably be the best way to describe my family in the general sense. For the most part, they don't understand me and don't care to even try. They love me, but they do so while holding me at arms length and without even really knowing who I am. Mostly a generic sort of love. There are a few exceptions, however, ranging from good to bad. My Aunt B. She's at the top of the good end of the scale. She's amazing, basically the only family member I know has my back without fail. She believes in me, she tries her hardest to understand me, and she goes to bat for me with other family members who prefer to treat me like less than a human. Which brings me to the other end of the totem pole. The ones who look at me with disdain, unfounded mistrust, who don't care to try and understand me, or even carry on a conversation with me. Who view me as a burden no matter what help I give. Who treat me worse than most people would treat their worst enemy.

Family. I'm thankful for them, good, neutral or bad. The good serve to lift me up, and the bad...well, I guess they have their purpose too. Without the bad, I wouldn't know how much pain I can take on without breaking down. Good or bad, they've made me who I am today.

Dubbayew tee eff, mate?

I don't know what the issue is, but I have spent the past two days in a near state of tears. Anything has the potential to set me off. I'm not PMSing, that's over with. I won my trial, I'm happily getting to know an amazing woman better, I have a future in sight. I'm less than a week away from a vacation in which I get to hang with a friend AND go see my favorite performer for the first time. Things are good right now. And yet, I keep nearly busting into tears. o.O