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100-becs · 4 years

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A Suffocated Soul

TW//Transphobia, homophobic and transphobic slurs, mentions of gore, and mentions of sxxcxde

Who am I?

I’m an 18 year old disgrace to my family who sees her bearded face as an ailment, who's deep voice, a bass, makes me wish words would fail me, a spiraling mess who's fake masculinity trails me. A girl with a liar's face. A girl who's failing. But still I tire, inside me’s a fire with dwindling kindling, running down to the wire. A soul suffocated and strangled whose saving face is a shell of former self, self hatred shooting through her, forever forced to fester in her failings, sequestered into an inescapable quagmire.

And I said nothing when you told me that my body is not my choice

When I’ve found a way, my voice, my song, it brings me euphoria until you come along, lecturing me that how I'm living is wrong, and how being myself would make me not belong. Relentless ridicule of how my hair is too long, that there’s no going back if I alter my bod. That I can’t be a girl, I watch football all day long. It takes me everything not to pack up and say “so long”. Saying it’ll be my fault if someone kills me, it kills me. Of living, I’m not worthy, as I’m too far along a man to be girly. Oh, gosh, I’m getting wordy. I didn’t realize myself early. The downward spiral into nothingness around me is swirling, as I try to clean up my mess you made for me. Can’t you see I’m distressed? I’m worth less than worthless. Holy fuck, give me a rest. If a rest is too much leniency, go ahead and arrest me. It's torture to continue when my own mother detests me

I said nothing when you went on your tirades against who I am

I’m a girl who can’t cry, though I’m red in the eye. Knuckles bloodied with mirror shards surrounding her. In each is a reflection of a monster. A man who did others wrong and strung people along for his own amusement. Seeping out my hand is where everything I had to prove went. I need to vent. I’m fucking spent. I broke when others bent. Off the ledge, my sanity was sent, the life I’ve dreamt was met with dissent, but though inside, 100 times i’ve wept, I still can’t cry. And despite my eyes and thighs being red with this dye, I lie and say i’m fine. You tell me I'm wired, but my wires are fried and my identity you’ve vilified, and deep inside, I want to die. There's not a day that goes by where I dont think "maybe if I just try, I can act like everything's okay as a guy and i wont have to live with being the type of person you told me you loved but really you're ashamed of."

I said nothing when you told me I’m a man

I’m the antithesis of normality. Fuck the formalities. Send me to my grave at the edge of reality, for the way I exist, you tell me it’s confounding. You feed me to wolves who are hungry and growling. I raise my bloodied fists to fight back, but they all overpower me. The turmoil I face is what has the wolves howling. A little girl whose cries will never come out of me. A little girl named Jocelyn. The name that should never be uttered around you. What you call a trend is why my head's always pounding. The struggle I face every day is astounding. And it stacks up and stacks up and it all amounts to me running numbers through my head, 41 percent. I dont care what you meant because it's the message you sent that I am not welcome in this world being who I am, lest I be happy in my body that others may dissent, and that if my vessel meets an untimely end, the fault is on me, not how wrong society went

I said nothing when you told me it would be on me if someone kills me for wearing a dress

"It's just a trend. I thought I was a lesbian when i was a teenager" is the mantra you constantly use to defend your position. The trans people you mention, you say just want attention, and list ways they're not menschen, in hopes that I stop pretending. I'm not pretending! Apprehending my emotions flowing like the tides of the ocean makes me feel atrocious. The pain that shoots through my skin, skin that imprisons my livelihood within, within my self is a soul begging to be let out, out of my mouth shoots "Why can't I just be fucking normal?!" with my deep voice killing me, "methinks the trxnny doth protest too much" is the response I receive, leaves who I am to die in the darkness, darkness forever blotting out the sun. I'm not your son! I'd gladly run from this thing that I was, reach for my heart instead of a gun that threatens to send this whole operation asunder, and become a being worthy of love and of wonder, not for fun or because I've grown dumber, but because I would never willingly take the brunt of the hell that I live through daily to taste the unimportant heaven of a shred of attention.

I said nothing when you told me I was following trends

You paint me as a terrible liar, but I was able to convince you that I was a man. I played along with my assigned gender roles when you watched over me, clueless of 10 year old me's crying sleepless nights, or 13 year old me's internal fights, how everything was eating away at me like termites. I know my rights and your words aren't right. I constantly escape to digital landscapes because however it infuriates me wont be a scrape against who I am, and will not cripple my mental state.

I said nothing when you told me to change my preferred name everywhere.

The 19 years i've spent on this earth, what were they worth? From my birth to the present day, I've pissed my entire life away because I allowed my mother to convince me that she knows more about me than I do about me. That there was no overcoming my greatest obstacle because she birthed me. You've stripped my individuality away from me as if I had just given it away to you. You fed me ideas that I thought nothing of because I focused too hard on the fact that the figure that's supposed to be a universal security blanket won't accept me. And those ideas you spoon-fed to me was the waste of self-doubt I couldn't flush out. My bloody knuckles and shattered mirrors are products of your rhetoric. And as I ball my fist up one last time, bawling my eyes out on the inside, ready to smash the final pane, just end the pain as I go insane…

Why cant I do it?…

My reflection smiles back and shows affection. A disheveled, bloody, broken complexion, but oddly beautiful, a captivating introspection. Completely removed from your hateful gobbledygook, I rub my eyes to take a second look. She's smiling, like she can read me like a book. My ethereal self is happy, while I'm sitting here, still shook. A queer, trans, lesbian mess, but purely my mess. none caused by outside distress, a girl who is always her best and strives for nothing less, Jocelyn. October 9th, 2018 was the first time I saw this wonder, and she helped me see the meaning in my night-long internal plights, my shattered psyche from fights, blights I've brought on my body that brought me ungodly dysphoria and triggered upon me out of body memories because the last body I would possibly want for me is that of a man. She makes me look back on my past and revere it. Im smiling ear to ear because I know although I may fear and people may leer, as long as I'm here, I know I'm queer, I'm here, I'm queer, I'm here, I'm her.

I said nothing when you threatened to send me to a psych ward.

Coming to terms with toxicity can be a tumultuous task that tries to turn you against those you think you love. But that isnt the case here. I know you hate me, but love the boy you think I am. And any attempt I make to let Jocelyn make my life any amount more manageable is met with fury, the situation gets blurry, I constantly worry, like im being buried alive. I strive to be able to survive and thrive because you taught me that I shouldn't let anyone get in the way of me living my life. Please take this knife away from my sight as I contemplate this strife. My existence does not make things worsen, I am my own person!

I said nothing when you lied to me about your care for the LGBTQ+ community

The toxicity of your words only runs skin deep. But this toxic testosterone that courses through my every capillary and produced by my bones makes me scream bloody mary. My hearing is plagued with "fxggot", "trxp", and "trxnny", and if I outwardly say "Hi, I'm transgender", the further attacks on me would be many. But their blaring cacophony is nothing comparing to my body changing to be something that pains me. Waking up to being physically male is just a constant reminder of someone I'm not, an unsettling notification of times best forgot, and of a person who's better off being left to rot. I've screamed, I've shouted, I've sulked, and I've fought. Every day in this body is another day lost, never to be found until I end up deceased on the ground, iced over with the frost, or until this testosterone is replaced with estrogen. Estrogen, the chemical that will make me detest my body much less, make me my best self, but without it i don't know how long until im laid to rest.

Beneath me are the eggshells I've broken because you told me to walk on them. You signed and sealed my name in blood as the son you always loved. I am no husband, brother, father, son. I sold my individuality for safety untold, but as i grew older, the world around me grew colder, the pain inside I couldn't shoulder. My response was to be bolder, but at some point I just rolled over wishing everything would be over because the people i expected to fight alongside me shoved a dagger in my back because I dared to be too authentic to conform to who you thought I was, leaving me to die on the battlefield against my own dysphoria, signing and sealing my deadname in blood, Josh. But as my body grows cold as the blood will roll down my gouged armes from the broken mirrors and the dagger you shoved in my back as a hold. I take hold of the dagger and rip it out of my spine, I won't go down this time. Though it wont all be fine I will continue my climb. I'll push on through the muck and the grime. I'll rise to the top to give my eyes a sight to behold. You say I've lost my mind, I've just gained control. No, today will not be the day that I fold, I'll make sure my story will not go untold, I refuse to be melted and put into a mold, and I can do it all if I could just be bold!

I wont stay silent anymore.

Who am I?

I'm Jocelyn

Perfectly imperfect

#trans girl #dysphoria #trans #poetry #bad parents #deadname

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bwicblog · 7 years

Text

SA: i have never seen a small troll so happy in my life.

SA: I bought them ice cream.

TT: what flavor TT: if you say smTh like vanilla you are going To a(\/)Tually die

SA: why do you hate vanilla so much?

SA: I bought them what they liked best.

SA: it was butter pecan.

ID: guess what chat, i'm bored and bitchy so someone should give me a reason not to be.

ID: or a reason to be more bitchy. that works too.

DD: i think i would prefer to give you a reason to be less bitchy

DD: and in light of that it might be worth asking what you are feeling bitchy about!

DD: you can think of it as talking about your problems but also lets be real gossip is fun and bitching about yout bitchy feelings is cathartic

ID: pff well at least you're honest about why you're concerned. =:P i'm just bitchy because of some stuff that happened that i'm not about to share on the chat. for fear of the wrong eyes seeing.

ID: so sorry, no gossip!

DD: well thats unfortunate clearly i have no reason to keep talking to you DD: im joking of course i am sorry that bad things happened the fun part of gossip is getting together with friends to trash talk the people you dislike not the nature of the suffering itself DD: in the end it is my overall preference that my friends do not feel shitty DD: and as we have totally established we are at least on the first tier of friendship >:D

ID: you a trash talking pro then there daz? =:P i'll have to remember not to upset you. so you can't drag my good name through the mud.

ID: the first step of a long climb, you gotta be dedicated to this friendship.

DD: well okay to be honest i am not usually the one doing the trash talking unless it is in respect to my mechanical equipment some of which has developed an attitude as a result of the artificial intelligence frames i have installed to assist me with my work but that is more affectionate trashtalking like one might perform when calling their pet cuttlefish fat DD: mostly it is my friend trash talking but when i have issues i have to acknowledge usually it is me messing up like it was earlier with prisma and in those cases i just kind of go be by myself a bit because trash talking is fun but me crying to someone is significantly less so

DD: and of course i am dedicated or well as dedicated as i have reason to be which is to say you are fun to talk to and i can see myself doing so for the forseeable future but i am afraid i am not yet ready to lay down my life for you no matter how much colorful claw varnish you introduce me to

ID: man can you type. or is this a talk to text program. either way you're fast. and wordy.

ID: not saying its bad.

ID: before you get offended.

DD: i type very quickly but i am told i talk very quickly as well it is sometimes a problem but unfortunately i have a hard time telling when it is appropriate to stop because really i want to say all of the things that are relevant and i think theyre all important DD: also i am not offended dont worry you are only saying the truth

ID: and you should trash talk more, it's great.

DD: i dont really have anybody to trash talk though!

DD: except maybe the people on team jaycob

DD: they have awful taste that is quite worthy of trashing

ID: so far i don't think we've seen any of them around.

DD: the problem remains! 😦

DD: to clarify that is a sarcastic smiley i am not actually that torn up over the issue of not having a fight to pick with people and i am afraid i have been coming of as sufficiently ditzy lately that that may be unclear

ID: hahah, well. if it makes you feel better chat rooms are hard to guage that sort of shit.

ID: though some people put /s at the end of sarcastic remarks to indicate sarcasm.

DD: i feel like thats a little bit too on the nose sometimes

ID: also the colorful claw varnish is the best and you're really missing out by not going out and purchasing some that changes color.

DD: but its still probably better than a long paragraph explaining my intentions so i will keep it in mind!

ID: it's hella fun to run under different temperatured water.

ID: just use it when you reallllyyyy don't want someone to get offended.

DD: and oh dear well that is what we are going shopping for later isnt it! DD: there is not very much of anything at all to buy here in such a small town though admittedly the local burgers are delicious and its always more fun to buy that sort of thing in person with friends than just ordering it online for drone delivery

ID: because when they're already het up a long explanation can make it worse.

DD: why would people be offended?

ID: also yeah you probably went to the same burger place as i did with gliese and they had some fantastic burgers.

ID: because it can come off as...

ID: what's the word.

ID: that means you're talking down to a troll because you think they're dumb.

DD: condescending!

ID: that.

DD: and oh dear that makes sense DD: i think that was the issue with my apology explanation earlier as well DD: i was worried that i might be misrepresenting myself and i did not want prisma to think i was acting out of malice but really it came off like i thought he was dumb

DD: that sucks 😦

ID: yeah, it's a slippery slope of being understood and coming off as a prick.

ID: slipperier for you since you're a fish.

DD: !!

DD: what do you mean

ID: ....look, you know how stereotypes work right.

ID: the biggest stereotype for a fish for us lowbloods is that every troll with fins is a jerk.

DD: i have had little experience with socializing with large numbers of people DD: i have had much experience with watching tv

DD: and oh dear

DD: ... i guess i knew that i just didnt really think about it or how it might apply to me

ID: yeahhh. see you're in a position where you can just. not apply things to yourself and be safe doing it.

ID: where us lowerbloods have to be more wary and careful.

ID: better to assume a highblood is gonna mess you up. rather than trust one and get fucked up. y'know?

DD: ... yeah

DD: that makes sense DD: D:

DD: ... do i maybe come off like a person that would mess somebody else up though like generally stereotypes aside

ID: well i mean.

ID: if you were really devoted.

ID: some fish like to play the long con.

DD: the long con??

DD: i mean i understand what you mean i just dont understand why that would be something that you might be concerned about somebody else doing

ID: ...because i like living.

ID: and am also maybe a little paranoid.

DD: hm! DD: i am just asking because i mean yes i understand that i am a seadweller and this means i am sturdier than most lowbloods but also there are other seadwellers fully capable of hurting me too both physically emotionally socially and financially and in fact i have recently narrowly escaped an assassination attempt but i suppose i still do not see that much reason to be consistently concerned about somebody playing a long con on me DD: thought maybe that is why somebody tried to cull me so you may have a point in that respect

ID: hahah why did they try to assassinate you...? =:/

ID: is that what happened to your horns.

DD: yes!

DD: and i suppose it is because i am one of the two chief executives of a very rapidly successful starship tech company and there are some issues with you know brand competition

DD: and resentment because the field thus far has been dominated primarily by long-standing memebers of it an i am fairly young as well as the issue that well

iD: oh. yeah. cut-throat business, they don't like the new fish muscling in on things. i get it. i mean it's shitty but i understand.

DD: one of the other recent entrants into the field of helmstechnology development is qpin and they are uniquely known for their ruthless competitiveness though of course i cant strictly say that they were behind it

DD: though my co-ceo says it was likely them because the queenpin is the head and she has a lot of trouble in terms of competitiveness on account of being a jadeblood

DD: but all of that is politics and i am afraid that i am not particularly great at it and i have no idea who it was

ID: ...also jeesh i guess i should have. expected you to be working on helm shit since you're at the helm station. i'm kinda glad you're not allowed to talk about what you're developing now.

ID: but congrats on not dying.

ID: or becoming too maimed to continue working.

ID: sorry about the horns though.

DD: thank you!!

DD: i appreciate your celebration of my narrow avoidance of death : P

DD: also what is wrong with as you phrased it helm shit?

DD: i will refrain from talking about it if it makes you uncomfortable but i am afraid i dont understand

ID: you're the only person who is apparently willing to chat tonight so i'm glad you survived long enough to chat. =:P

ID: i don't like helm shit. it's like.

ID: the text version of claws on a chalkboard for me.

DD: truly high accolades

SA: nobody asked if they wanted me in the chat :/

DD: and oh my goodness well i will keep that in mind

DD: umm

ID: pris! sorry, i assumed you were napping.

SA: i'm teasing.

DD: i think maybe the assumption was that you were not present on account of earlier hads said-

DD: oh

DD: oops

ID: =:P

ID: 💚

DD: 💜 >:D

DD: do you maybe have anything that you would like to trash talk about because we have recently arrived at the conclusion that it is a worthwhile endeavor but i have nobody to trash talk and hads is being very secretive about the source of his miffedness

ID: yeah pris, give us some trash talk. =:P

SA: oh.

SA: um.

SA: ...

SA: this is. rather hard.

DD: unless of course you would like to join hads in the club of secretiveness which i assume is alternatively titled the club of the subjects of the trash talking being potentially present in the chatroom at a later date?

SA: no, I have no secret salt. I have made most of it known.

ID: yeah pris is a pretty honest guy.

DD: oh in that case what is difficult?

SA: I do not tend to hold on to animosity for extreme periods of time.

SA: It takes energy I do not have.

SA: I would rather reserve it for stopping hadean from getting into a bonus fight after Ashley.

SA: let me think.

ID: =:PPPP

DD: oh dear DD: see that statement there sounds a little bit like salt though maybe perhaps not the sort that is meant to be a source of amusement

ID: i need a post-victory fight tho pris!

SA: i think that it's very stupid that high bloods become very offended when I enter their space.

SA: they can't stand the idea i have as much money as them.

SA: that is sufficiently salty.

DD: also i think i understand that i tend to not hold onto angry feelings for very long but i in general am a lot more inclined to be sad rather than mad

ID: i'll take it! that's some salt. fuck them for getting snooty.

DD: and i appreciate the pun there though i am not sure what you mean DD: i dont find you offensive to be around at all

ID: the stereotypical fish daz.

DD: oh this is about stereotypes again

SA: it must be hard to live life with such a fragile ego that because someone is well-tailored and capable of pulling several thousand out of their wallet in cash, you must threaten them as much as possible to feel powerful again.

ID: do i gotta punch someone for you pris?

SA: you do not need a post victory fight you need a post-victory ice cream and bandaids.

ID: =:PPPP

SA: also dazzle I am regularly somewhat salty at Hadean. it is the spice of our friendship.

DD: yes seconding hads though more in spirit of concern rather than desire to actually punch anybody what i mean is that it sounds like you recently had a bad experience

DD: is that why hads is the saltlick

SA: yes but taht's also because he's salty anyways.

SA: ❤

ID: is salt a spice now.

ID: 💚

DD: <3< ??

ID: what.

SA: i did not recently have one, no. It just happens when I leave the loft. I live in West Haven, which is majority high-bloods.

ID: no. definitely no.

DD: platonic spade i suppose but i cannot find it in blue

DD: or purple or green

SA: oh no. It's not like that at all.

SA: I thought salt was a spice... is something only a spice if it grows?

ID: idk.

ID: daz is salt a spice.

DD: i am going to say yes though mostly out of convenience for the sake of making puns and less because i actually know

SA: oh.

SA: well that's as good of an answer as any.

DD: although on the topic of growing i can at least say acid is often used to spice food underwater so

DD: there is at least that

SA: that sounds like. hell.

SA: but i suppose i won't judge i eat scorpions.

ID: ...how does. acid food taste...?

ID: does acid impart a flavor?

SA: is it citrus-y, dazzle

DD: that depends on the acid you use i suppose sometimes it is bitter and other times it is more sour and unfortunately i cannot tell you if it is citrusy on account of i have never had a citrus fruit though it does not taste much like orange candies if that helps

DD: also it is often used to cook food not just season it

ID: huh.

ID: weird.

SA: you should try an orange sometime. they are wonderful

DD: more weird than eating scorpions?? :{

DD: and apparently also squirrels

ID: i like berries the best out of fruit. but they're usually more expensive.

SA: I do not eat rodents.

ID: since they spoil quicker.

ID: i eat squirrels. =:P

SA: horrid.

ID: any port in a storm pris.

DD: i will have to try both oranges and berries in that case maybe even a smoothie consisting of both 😄

SA: do not do that.

SA: Orange is a very particular flavor.

DD: i am taking this landdweller food thing step by step

DD: oh

DD: interesting

SA: citrus pairs well with other citrus.

ID: try orange juice.

ID: that's easy to find.

SA: lemon and lime, for example. Or Mango and orange.

SA: yes.

SA: orange juice.

ID: mango is a citrus? =:????

SA: ,...I always thought it was.

SA: "While both citrus and tropical fruits are grown in warm climates, citrus fruits refer specifically to the genus of flowering fruits in the Rutaceae family, which include oranges, grapefruits and lemons as well as certain other species and hybrids such as the pomelo, key lime and citron. Mango is not a citrus"

SA: now I'm mad at Hadean for telling me mango is not a citrus.

DD: i think i will just buy a pile of fruit

DD: and see which ones i enjoy

SA: and ruining sweeps of disbelief.

ID: ...i mean. mangos are too sweet for a citrus.

ID: was my logic.

SA: are... are oranges not sweet to you.

ID: not as sweet as a mango!

ID: oranges have that citrus taste!

SA: make sure you learn how to prepare them, Dazzle.

DD: you mean you cant eat them raw??

ID: yeah but some of them you don't eat the outsides.

ID: like citrus fruits.

DD: maybe i can go to a fruit restaurant

SA: just putting a mango in your mouthi s not the most brilliant idea.

ID: but you can eat the outside of a mango can't you?

SA: no.

SA: you also can't eat the outside of a banana.

SA: or.

SA: You can but it will make you very sad.

SA: I learned this the hard way.

SA: It was unfortunate.

ID: 'Answer: Although the pit of a mango isn't considered edible, some people do eat the mango skin. The skin is bitter-tasting, but the peel contains several healthful chemical compounds, including powerful antioxidants mangiferin, norathyriol, and resveratrol.'

ID: i have no idea what any of those words mean.

SA: so the short version is it will make you sad.

SA: healthy.

SA :but sad.

DD: i need to be healthier i think but i do not want to be more sad

DD: but maybe the health will be making up for it because honestly most of my sadness as of late has come from my health

SA: are you of poor constitution?

ID: i'll be honest and admit i've never eaten a mango. so i was guessing on eating the skin.

DD: not usually!!!

DD: i am just

ID; adjusting to being on land?

DD: not used to living on the land and everything is very dry and my gills hurt a lot and everything tastes weird so i am also hungry all the time

DD: and also everything is very hot

SA: you would probably be happier in a bay area.

SA: why they let you move to a desert

SA: Is beyond me.

ID: because of the station pris.

SA: yes, but... why put it there.

ID: close to a lowblood settlement.

DD: because it is a remote location where i am unlikely to be found again by the person who previously attempted to assassinate me and also because there is a psionic training station that is located in the area on account of it being a lowblood locale with a high psionic concentration

SA: oh so abducting.

DD: and that is very useful for my research

ID: easy to lure them away from a shitty town to be experimented on.

DD: i mean i am

DD: unsure i would phrase it that way

DD: ... the luring not the town thing the town is pretty shitty

ID: good thing i did it for you.

DD: oh dear

ID: you're poor and life sucks and maybe your lusus is dead and you're scared.

ID: some highblood offering you candy if you come to his station sounds pretty good.

DD: actually i believe most of the recruiting is done through online means

SA: a more polite way of saying it would be that it is often easier to accept being an pet and know you are cared for than it is to be free and struggle.

ID: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ my point remains.

DD: and the payment tends to be in caegars and i know that is not what you mean i simply think you maybe are not representing it very accurately

ID: it's still sucky to do.

ID: most of those trolls have to choose between that and death.

DD: i mean it is also kind of sucky to work public service at a cafe but

ID: ...i mean a cafe doesn't screw things in to you.

SA: being a living experiment and test subject is very different from being subject to a screaming indigo about how their latte was not enough foam.

ID: you can leave a shitty cafe job.

SA: ...do they foam lattes...

SA: I dont know.

SA: I have the all the time, and I have never thought about it.

ID: and you're probably less likely to die in a cafe job.

ID: or fry your psi.

ID: and probably get culled for that.

DD: well i mean first of all the only test subjects are the two cerulean trolls i believe and also the people that volunteer to help me out but that part is not mandatory the main purpose of this station is to prepare trolls that have been conscripted for helmservice for an easier transition upon ascension and also accept anybody that would like to volunteer for the service without conscription not

DD: testing things really

ID: yeah well i bet if you asked a lot of wrigglers why they volunteered.

ID: you'd get a lot of 'i didn't have any other option' answers.

DD: hm

DD: i guess i do not know

SA: does it not

SA; unsettle you.

ID: you sure don't! but the first step is realizing you don't know.

SA: that our ships are using an archiac biotechnical method of power when we could built a technical system or a disocnnecting system for them.

SA: My pilot training used my inhibitor to join and disconnect me from a ship without hurting me in the slightest.

SA: and yet this isn't the norm.

ID: man you also hear those stories about them chopping a helms' fronds off.

ID: since they don't need them for anything.

DD: well as a starship technician i kind of have to argue your useage of the word archaic because the biotech we have developed is currently eons ahead of our purely mechanical methods of transportation which are heavily limited by both fuel systems and speed and also i am not sure that you are hearing accurate stories about limb removal that is definitely not a standard practice and would probably be actively detrimental to the process and helmsman adjustment and biowire integration DD: as would be constantly placing the pilot into painful situations upon connect and reconnect though maybe that may be the case withoutdated systems??? DD: the point of helmsman system design is to ensure a fluid and efficient connection

ID: ...huh.

ID: i mean tbh i never really paid attention to schoolfeeding about helms since. you gotta figure that stuff is just propaganda to make you think it's great.

DD: a decent amount of it probably is but that is the case with all fleet propaganda!! which is not necessarily a bad thing to be honest if you ask me personally because focusing on the negative aspects of a situation is never going to motivate anybody when you think about it regardless of what the job it

ID: i mean the ratio of cons to pros of some jobs are a lot easier to swallow than others. =:P

DD: that is very true DD: i would not want to be a garbage person i am not ashamed to admit this

ID: and i like walking.

DD: or a fighter like sipara i am fairly sturdy but i do not like being attacked

ID: if you could not tell by my adventurer lifestyle.

ID: and you can say that i can explore wayyyy more stuff in a ship but i'm pretty sure it is soooo not the same.

DD: haha yes that is true i suppose i do not consider it much considering i am both very fond of swimming over walking and also my experience on starships as a nonpsionic troll involves not very much walking anyways

DD: partially because i am stuck in my coon trying to adjust to orbit but also primarily because there is also not much room to walk

ID: ...i guess since i've already dived in to this ball of squick i might as well ask since you'd know best.

ID: does like. your kind of psi make you better or worse or not usable for a helm?

DD: yes very much so!

DD: there is a psionic ranking system of course in terms of the amount of raw power available but also the type of psionics make a difference for example cerulean psychics and indigos are not functional for ship powering at all and varieties among lowbloods that exhibit nonphysical properties such as clairvoyance are typically not high enough on the actual kinetic energy production to be able to power a ship with any efficiency as conversion to a useable power source is often very inefficient and also takes up energy in the process which rather defeats the point

DD: for example telekinetic type psionics tend to be the most effective for helming while more psychically oriented powers are not

SA: sometimes hybridization allows multifaceted psionics but it's also very rare in natural occurance.

SA: i can pilot a starfighter with my telekinesis as long as the ship and my inhibitor are programmed to allow the link through.

Sa: But an entire ship wuld be beyond me.

SA; and for the most part starfighters rely on a psion's ability to generate shields and manipulate other variables for a quicker reactions time, but not flight itself.

DD: there are also augments that assist with that!

ID: hahahah okay can this be enough helms talk now.

ID: i've exceeded my comfort zone.

DD: that is part of what the psionic training facility that i am part of helps with-

DD: oh dear my apologies

DD: i will stop!

SA: 😃

ID: i mean i asked so it's fine.

ID: just. new convo now plzkthx.

ID: ...i mean i should volunteer a new subject huh.

ID: pris did you have dinner?

ID: both of you for that matter.

ID: miss hungry because i don't eat.

SA: ...

SA: maybe.

ID: =>:I the ice cream you had earlier isn't dinner btw.

SA: i had a fruit salad.

DD: dinner??

DD: ...

DD: oh dear

DD: i am afraid i lost track of time

DD: i was going to say i did have dinner but that feels as though it was a long time ago and it occurs to me that that may have been dinner yesternight and it is possible that part of my discomfort with my health is because i am actually very hungry

ID: i'm gonna make you both set alarms to eat. =>:(

ID: a fruit salad and ice cream isn't enough for a night pris.

SA: mrmrm.

SA: I'll be back in a bit.

ID: if you get lonely while eating call sips' mobile and i'll steal it to vid chat. =:P

SA: well I may as well call it now then.

SA: i am.

SA: go find it.

ID: woofbesat, fetch. i see how it is. =:PPP

DD: i unfortunately tend to not notice my alarms it has been somewhat detrimental my friend used to ahve somebody come pull me away from my work and i thought it was sillybut now i am realizing it was probably very necessary

ID: get one of those bracelets that vibrate as an alarm.

ID: they might work better.

DD: but also that is my cue to go find food before i keel over and die so goodbye it was lovely talking to you and also that is a good idea i should find one of those

ID: ...damnit now the chat is empty again. =>:(

VC: Not quite.

VC: I'm taking a rrest on a courrierr trip, what's everryone else up to?

ID: uh i sent all the hungry skeletons off to eat because they all forget or think that a fruit salad is a meal.

ID: so they're doing that. and i'm just sitting here twiddling ym thumbs and watching pris eat on vid-chat on another mobile.

ID: ....is it rude to text someone while watching another troll in a vid chat.

SA: i'm talking.

SA: asshole.

SA: that. that wasn't serious

VC: Oh, I don't think I've met you before, SA.

SA: Hello.

SA: I am prisma.

ID: =:P i can multitask pris!

VC: I'm Cennef. And you and Hadean apparently know each other well, I take it?

ID: yeah we're buds.

ID: pris is cool, so be nice to him. =:P

SA: cennef. it's nice to meet you.

VC: He's yellow, what reason do I have to _not_ be civil?

VC: It's not like he's one of this room's silly highbloods.

VC: You seem well-mannerrred, so I agrree in turrn.

ID: he can speak kinda highblood-y sometimes but it was just how he was raised so don't pick on him. =:P

VC: Mannerrs and phrrassing of some things isn't an exclusive highblood trrait. I harrdly would.

VC: Pherrres talks like he's trrrying to sound cerrulean sometimes and that doesn't botherr me.

ID: i mean glad you understand that. some lowbloods get so offended when you use a 'highblood' term!

ID: like saying tub is gonna turn you blue.

VC: Ha. I may not carre forr highbloods, but - oh _rreally_

VC: Using theirr language isn't exactly a sin.

VC: That's rridiculous.

ID: you've never met a lowblood who got all snooty with you over it?

ID: the 'uhm, did you mean ABLUTION TRAP?' types?

VC: I suppose I have now that I think of it, but they arren't exactly trrolls I spent a lot of time arround.

VC: My ex quads werren't like that at all, norr arre any of my currrent frriends.

ID: wise move. there's having a grudge against highbloods and then there's overcull.

VC: I rreally only have a grrrudge against _one_ highblood, but I do lack fondness forr them in generral.

SA: i overcull teal bloods.

VC: Though perrhaps it might be prrrudent to stop talking about it in case any of them do come in.

SA: they have always patronized me.

SA: 😉

VC: Pfft, what

VC: I know you'rre joking, but I don't rreally get it

ID: hahah, it's a chat thing. we joke that teals are the worst because they're in the middle so they lash out more.

VC: Ohhhh

VC: To be honest, I have only met one tealblood outside of deliverries, which don't rreally count.

VC: He was...verrry odd.

ID: that's a tealblood for you.

VC: Well, he wasn't a lawtroll orr anything. He was some sorrt of perrforrmer.

ID: ...huh. was it the dumpster troll.

ID: ...do you know what i'm talking about. probably not.

VC: ...he cerrtainly _belonged_ in a dumpsterr but otherrwise no, I do not.

VC: Mine talked like some sorrt of flowerrry idiot and called himself barrd.

VC: Is that what this dumpsterr trroll did.

ID: yes!

VC: Oh my god.

SA: why is there a known dumpster dweller.

ID: he got ceruleans mad about historical bulge piercings.

SA; what dessert should I get?

VC: _Oh my god._

ID: and they threw him in a dumpster.

ID: ...the fluffy one.

VC: For once. I am on the bluebloods' side.

VC: _What is wrong with him._

VC: Correction.

VC: How many things arrre wrrong with him.

ID: and then he started dueling them in the dumpster.

VC: Though I'd probably be -

VC: _Highbloods._

ID: until someone came and rescued his hide.

ID: it was hilarious.

VC: That's completely rrridiculous.

ID: it was. but that made it hilarious.

ID: so what are you delivering...?

VC: Sorry, I was getting back on the road. I have my phone on talk-to-text now. It's some sorrrt of book collection for this olive.

ID: you're fine. how are you traveling? and that sounds. boring.

VC: Haha, I have no clue. They could be about stunning adventurrres, for all I know. I don't usually get told the details of what I deliverrr, unless they'rre imporrtant forr trransit.

VC: I rrride my lusus.

VC: She's not exactly a hoofbeast orr anything, but she can go at a decent pace with a trroll as small as I am.

ID: heyy a troll after my own pumper. though my lusus is a variety of hoofbeast.

VC: Ohh, what kind?

ID: antelope kind. but one of the big ones. he can carry me and my stuff no problem. and we have similar rocking racks.

VC: Pfft. Do you now.

VC: I have decently sized horns myself.

ID: about time. like this chat is mostly nubhorn central.

VC: I can prrrove I am not nubhorned.

VC: Ignorre the goofy exprression, this is just what I had on frrond. Also unforrrtunately I should pay attention to the terrrain now, it's getting rrough.

ID: huh. sorry i've not got an image right on hand to share. and i'm not in the prettiest shape for selfies, so you'll just have to take me at my word. =:P

VC: Haha

VC: Well I fully expect one laterrr

VC: But underrstandable - ow

VC: I rreally _should_ stop talking, dammit

ID: your lusus bad at navigating?

SA: the fluffy one

SA: that didn't tell me anything...

ID: point the camera at the menu for me.

SA: there...

ID: uhhh. the lemon tart thingy. since you said you like citrus.

SA: okay.

SA: delicious...

ID: you're welcome. =:P

#c:cennef #c:dazzle #c:hadean #c:prisma

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samanthasroberts · 7 years

Text

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Id call it time traveling. Most of the time I didnt know I was doing it until I was already in too deep. It didnt matter the day of the week or the time, or who I was with. I was just as capable of bending time alone, as I was with a handful of friends.

There was no such thing as one or two or three drinks. Just like a two headed giraffe didnt exist, neither did grabbing a couple of drinks. Its that simple. I really cant explain it any other way. My average was a drink every fifteen minutes. I never thought about that. I didnt brag about it or work towards it or talk about it, my rhythm just happened. The drink was in my hand and I drank it. I didnt think of slowing down or having an empty hand.

Id start somewhere- at an apartment or at dinner or a happy hour or on a date and Id arm myself with whatever I was in the mood for. There were the regular players: Jack Daniels and diet coke, chardonnay, Redbull and vodka, Blue Moon and those few years in my early 20s where I thought the only two drinks on the planet was a Sex On The Beach and Cosmo. Drink menus were for amateurs.

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

For a long time the only shot I tossed back was Patron XO. Lemon drops and Kamikazes were too collegiate for me. I was smart enough to know that I always got sick after Whiskey. That was my kryptonite. It didnt stop me from drinking it again (and again), just in case getting sick was a one time thing. Spoiler alert: it wasnt.

So that was me, always, from the first time I got drunk during a party at 16 years old to my four day New Years Eve bender at age 30. But lets not call it a bender, or else my parents will worry. It was celebrating a new year with friends. It was a vacation and a belated birthday. It was me letting present, in the moment Diana take the wheel for a few days.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

It was all so normal and always OK: competing with friends how many guys we can make out with in one night (one of my favorite games), bouncing around speakeasys in the East Village, sneaking into the high end member only clubs in the Meatpacking District, 4am pancakes at a diner then going home with the cutest guy there, leaving without paying your tab, putting your drinks on a strangers tab, hooking up with your friends crush, sleeping with a guy who has a girlfriend (what, he had an accent, ok?), telling work you have a doctors appointment when you need an extra hour of sleep, telling work youre sick when youre too hungover to get out of bed, napping in the bathroom stall at work when you realize you went to work still drunk.

Theres wasnt a problem with any of this. I could go to six bars in a night and only remember two of them (seetime traveling). Others had different, less poetic names for it- like graying out or even more ominous, going black out. But lets not talk about that. Those words are scary.

It all just made so much sense to me. I had a desperate thirst for life, for new experiences and stories that were only mine and drinking was my very own special key to open that door. I dont remember being trained but I knew this truth: that I needed to drink- to have fun, to meet a guy, to de-stress, to celebrate, after a bad day, after a good day, when its more than 50 degrees out, when its under 15 degrees, because its Monday.

Its dramatic sounding, I know, but when I was drinking, like really in the middle of a good run, I was untouchable. My thoughts evened out and worries were left at the coat check. I was charming and funny. I was weightless and sexy. Nothing could ground me.

I wasnt stupid. I knew what was happening. There wasnt a river in Egypt. The biggest part was the after, when Morning Diana gradually and reluctantly pixelated back into place ready to droop down into the exorcist-like hangover.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

Sometime in my mid-twenties while I was gripping on to my spinning couch, I googled hangover and depression and was so relieved when I read the phrase emotional hangover. I immediately felt better seeing the feeling I felt printed on my screen. It was a relief: I wasnt alone in this feeling and it had a name. Urban Dictionary knows about it so it must be OK. Ill finish my bacon and chocolate milkshake and be just ducky.

The recovery time was always different- sometimes I could slide out of bed and be partially human the next day and other times I needed a day alone to stew in a mental playback of the night before. During those days the biggest challenge was the trek from my bedroom to couch. No matter how I recouped I never thought it was bad. I thought my friends were doing it too.

Country songs and Van Wilder confirmed for me that getting drunk and hangovers were a part of life. I never raised my hand to question it. So, about the men. I bet you thought it was hard to find a man with all this time zig zagging and space jumping but it wasnt. Lets go back ten years again and Ill tell you about all the threesomes I had. It was me, the guy, and alcohol.

It was how I flirted, played, connected, and bonded with men, always. If the boyfriend had a bad day wed start downing drinks in the hopes that hed open up and talk to me. To flirt with the new cute coworker Id suggest we play beer after work. Hed find it charming and cute and wed drunkenly made out in the corner of the bar after swapping 1st pet names and office gossip. I had a fling with a British banker off and on for 3 years and when wed meet late night hed pour us shots of tequila first. It was our thing. Our inside joke with Don Julio.We didnt know each others last names but we shared an appreciation for top shelf tequila at 3am before having sex. Im a romantic, I know.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

During each encounter, each date, I wouldnt feel satisfied until I heard those words. He could shout it or whisper it in my ear, either way I wanted those words. It meant: he liked me, hes having a good time, and he wanted to keep spending time with me. He didnt want the night to end. It meant intimacy, it meant hand holding and flirty eyes and of course, sex.

I could count the number of times I had sober sex on one hand. I didnt enjoy it. To avoid it, Id explain that I simply didnt like morning sex. Most of the time Id be too hungover to move from a fetal position so it wasnt pursued for long on his end anyway. Hooking up drunk was sexy and fun. We could let our inhibitions go and really connect. Fun was had by all. I wasnt worried about any of it.

Theres unfortunately worse parts. Im not going to tell them to you though. Mostly because my mother may read this. But also because I was once told that you dont need to go all the way to the bottom floor in order to get off the elevator. So lets baby step off the lift, shall we?

I was in one of my first sessions with my new therapist when she told me I repeated the word untouchable a lot and made me explain why I thought that was a good word. (See all of the above for my response). Valentines Day was two weeks away and I was mentally preparing to be single again during my least favorite holiday of the year.

I wasnt too worried though because Id participate in my friends annual BOVD- Black Out Valentines Day. The year before included colorful fish bowls and sushi till 2am. Problem solved. I was talking but realizing more and more how much she looked like Lily Tomlin when she put a piece paper down in front of me. It was a wordy contract with bullet points in the middle and a blank line next to my name at the bottom.

I was supposed to go a week without drinking. Thats a lie. I could drink. But only three glasses of beer or wine, two different nights. If I broke the contract I had to give $100 to her. Lily was crazy. How was this legal? I couldnt do this. Fact. I shouldnt have even been there. I wanted to deal with this but apparently not by actually dealing with it. I argued with her and left the session with the unsigned document squished to the bottom of my purse. That night I didnt sleep and express ordered Alan Carrs Easy Way to Control Alcohol. Problem solved. I went out drinking all week. And I drank like no one was watching.

Then I signed the contract. And then when week one ended, I signed the next contract. Was it easy? Fuck no. Did I have to write some checks to my therapist? Yes. Did I cry? Did I rant? Did my hands and mind twitch and turn during dinners with friends as I stared at my 1 drink for the night? Hell to the yes. Most nights all I could think about was my hand stammering under the table and how much I wanted and needed another drink.

I thought of the contract and Lilys annoying face staring down at me. I thought of how I felt when I was hungover. I thought of the fuzzy nights. I thought of the fuzzy years. I cried a lot. I stayed in and watched Netflix even more. I watched Vampire Diaries starting at season 1, many times. In therapy I compared my drunk self to being a vampire with no soul. There are many different points of view on vampire rule and regulations but most of them agree that the creatures of the night have no soul. Stick with me here. In Vampire Diaries the rule of thumb is that vampires can turn this soul switch off and on. When its on they feel everything, when its off they feel nothing and become untouchable. Follow me now? The easy way to live is to keep the switch off. I did that, over and over again. I was tired of it and wanted to be in the world of the living again. I didnt decide this overnight. It took months, a lot more episodes of Vampire Diaries and most of 2015. Something weird happened around the same time I switched to watching new episodes of Arrow that wouldve really pissed off my 23 year old Cosmo drinking self- I stopped enjoying drinking.

By November I was completely sober and joined a boxing ring. I could get up in the morning and exercise. I didnt need to sign a contract anymore. I sober dated. I sober celebrated friends birthdays. I sober had a fun Thursday night. I went to AA meetings sometimes and spent most of the meeting listening and nodding my head. I was funny and smart and friendly during the day and I was funny and smart and friendly at night. I added to my own life and stopped letting drinking take away from it. I started a social group. I started a book club. I started.

Sometime between the last crippling snow storm of last year and planning my 31st birthday, I stopped wanting to go to Edit Undo. I re-entered my own life. I went through those years and theyre a part of me for worse or worser. I went through it before knowing there was another side. I hit my rock bottoms (yes, there was more than one). Im still learning how to talk about it- what I want to say about it and to who. But the further I get from the person I was then, the more I like who Im turning into now. But letting go of her seemed like an impossible ask that the tiny tired voice deep inside me was begging for.

If I stopped drinking Id lose all of me, not just a part. I was terrified as if I was going to lose a limb or my hearing. My life would be filled withwhat? Id have no buoy or security blanket or man behind the curtain. Id be dry, unfilled, just curved edges and rims. The thought paralyzed me.

Now, Im at this other side. Im still learning what this other side is like and who I am in it. But I do know this- Im more now than I was before. Im more me and more strong and more present. I feel more and I listen to me more.

Days are now broken up between feeling this raw, strength of life and connection to people and namastes and really fantastic Im part of the universe and not from vibes to a total, giant uncertainty and instability, and anger and exhaustion. I never knew I could get tired of feelings. Weve moved in together, you see. We wake up together and go to bed together and they insist on forming an invisible fanny pack around my waist during the day. Hello intimacy, party of two. Theyre normally the big spoon. My thoughts continue from one moment to the next and connect without taking breaks. I had years and years of turning myself on and off and more off and now I just want to be on.

I wish I could say that when I wake up sober now, Im not depressed anymore or lonely, my friends became better friends, I became the perfect best friend, sister and daughter, and my love life came together Prince Charming Cinderella style. But becoming more sober didnt mean everything clicked into place, it just means I see the pieces more clearly and I dont hide from the messy parts.

So now whatdo I become resentful and guilty and depressed thinking about the years I spent avoiding intimacy and feelings and honesty and fuck, concrete memories? Do I think those years dont count? Do I blame my bad habits on the constant excess of New York City? Do I blame the alcoholic-like attributes that run in my blood line? Do I blame my friends? Or the work hard play hard Don Draper industry I work in? Do I blame shitty men boys?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Ive had men yell at me, not being able to grasp the idea of my moderated drinking habits, insisting that Im just pretending I dont drink because I wanted them to buy me drinks. I dont get it either. No means no guys. My friendships have changed, my god have my friendships changed. One friend who pre-games with a bottle of wine (a standard respectable approach I once followed), on multiple occasions, dumped her wine into my water when she realized I wasnt drunk like she was. Yeah, I dont spend time with her anymore.

I went sixty days without drinking before I decided to drink again. For me it was like breaking up with a boyfriend and then meeting up again two months later. Never a good idea. Youll never want to be just friends who catch every up every now and then. I drank Vueve Clicquot and it didnt make the night better but it didnt make it worse. I didnt gray out. I didnt break down. That night isnt fuzzy. I could wake up in the morning.

Theres been other times when I drank recently and couldnt move far from the couch. Those times are a quick, slap in the face of what not to do. But old feelings and doubts still come flooding back in. Will I always want another drink? Why cant I just stay sober? Why does everyone make it look so easy? Is my therapist actually Lily Tomlin?

Deep down I know the majority of my problems start and stop with alcohol. Drinking will always be a part of my life whether Im drinking or not. Itd be easier to figure out if I wasnt both the variable and constant in this little conundrum of mine.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

Im not 100% sober and I dont know if I ever will be. One day, maybe sooner rather than later, I could decide to sign up for a sober lifestyle again. But right now, I cant imagine midnight on New Years Eve without a champagne toast. I can do without five toasts but one still feels OK to me. So yeahmy relationship with drinking? We file it under Its complicated.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

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adambstingus · 7 years

Text

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/167431371812

0 notes

allofbeercom · 7 years

Text

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/11/13/getting-sober-redefining-my-longest-relationship/

0 notes

viralhottopics · 8 years

Text

Getting Sober: Redefining My Longest Relationship

Never red wine though. It stained my teeth and lips, Id explain when asked, and respond with my quirky I only drink it alone and in the dark answer. Theyd always laugh.

By the time YOLO was on T-shirts I had carpe diem booze down to a science.

When I was in college my hangover cure was strawberries and chocolate milk. After I received my diploma I graduated to well-done bacon, coffee, Mimosas. Water never entered the equation.

My favorite three words when I was with a guy were Want another round?

Yes, to all of the above. I point the finger at all of them and then back at me, and then at them and back at me. Lily says hi.

Today, I stare all the feels in the face, and make sure they know the last sixteen years matter but the last thirteen months matter even more. Im not her anymore, Im a different, more me now.

The good news is, Ive learned how to unwind on a Friday night without the trifecta of a bottle of wine, pizza and Netflix. My secret is just pizza and Netflix.