Tag: personal

salaciouscrumpet:

I’ve been battling depression and anxiety (for which I am currently in treatment), and one of the many frustrating effects my depression has on me is a complete lack of interest in food. I get hungry, kind of, but I don’t really care that I’m hungry, and even the simplest foods (pasta with leftover sauce, chicken nuggets, peanut butter sandwiches) feel like too much effort. When food is prepared (because I cook dinner for my partner most nights, or we cook together) I lose my appetite very quickly. I’ve joked that all I really want is some kind of nutrient paste that I can squirt into my mouth and which will fill all my nutritional needs, but that’s not really available to me at the moment. There’s a part of me that thinks the best solution is to just not eat outside of dinner with my partner, but I know that’s not really healthy (and making enough food to have as leftovers later won’t help, because I don’t want the food I’m eating).

Ugh. I don’t even know where I’m going with this. I’ve tried looking for suggestions online, but I either get a bunch of self-care tips that aren’t relevant to me (”reward yourself for making a meal!” “get your groceries online!” “cook for someone else!”) or how to eat healthy when depression makes you want to binge, which is the exact opposite of the problem I’m currently having. (There’s been a bag of nacho chips just sitting on the shelf in my kitchen, unopened and ignored. I love salty foods. The bag’s been there for a week, untouched.)

Is it feasible to just subsist on apples/applesauce, cheese and crackers? Because that’s what I’m leaning towards. I thought of those Soup-to-Go things, but the sodium content in those is insane (and they’re stupidly expensive for what they are). I’m not punishing myself. I’m not trying to lose weight. I just have no interest in eating. (And yes, this is on the list of things I need to discuss with my doctor, but in the meantime …)

Thank you for the support and suggestions! I’ve added some of the food ideas to my grocery list, and have made a note of the self-care suggestions to give them a try as well. I appreciate folks taking the time to help me out.  🙂

I’ve been battling depression and anxiety (for which I am currently in treatment), and one of the many frustrating effects my depression has on me is a complete lack of interest in food. I get hungry, kind of, but I don’t really care that I’m hungry, and even the simplest foods (pasta with leftover sauce, chicken nuggets, peanut butter sandwiches) feel like too much effort. When food is prepared (because I cook dinner for my partner most nights, or we cook together) I lose my appetite very quickly. I’ve joked that all I really want is some kind of nutrient paste that I can squirt into my mouth and which will fill all my nutritional needs, but that’s not really available to me at the moment. There’s a part of me that thinks the best solution is to just not eat outside of dinner with my partner, but I know that’s not really healthy (and making enough food to have as leftovers later won’t help, because I don’t want the food I’m eating).

Ugh. I don’t even know where I’m going with this. I’ve tried looking for suggestions online, but I either get a bunch of self-care tips that aren’t relevant to me (”reward yourself for making a meal!” “get your groceries online!” “cook for someone else!”) or how to eat healthy when depression makes you want to binge, which is the exact opposite of the problem I’m currently having. (There’s been a bag of nacho chips just sitting on the shelf in my kitchen, unopened and ignored. I love salty foods. The bag’s been there for a week, untouched.)

Is it feasible to just subsist on apples/applesauce, cheese and crackers? Because that’s what I’m leaning towards. I thought of those Soup-to-Go things, but the sodium content in those is insane (and they’re stupidly expensive for what they are). I’m not punishing myself. I’m not trying to lose weight. I just have no interest in eating. (And yes, this is on the list of things I need to discuss with my doctor, but in the meantime …)

Wow.

Today in “this is why we can’t have nice things,” the two prompts I’ve received (both anonymous, of course) for scene requests for Immortals both basically amount to internet strangers asking me for rape fics. Which, um, no. That makes me intensely uncomfortable.

I’m aware that some of my stories have non-con elements. I was very, very deliberate to keep those elements as non-graphic as possible, and I did not write them for titillation or shock value. These elements have had a lasting impact on my characters. I didn’t write them for the lulz, and now I’m genuinely concerned that that’s what people are taking away from my writing.

I guess, in general, you read what you want to read, and if that sort of thing is your jam … well, okay. I’m not especially interested in writing it for you, though, so maybe in the future you should sound out your writers a little more carefully, please? Unless that’s what this was, sending me these prompts anonymously. I don’t know. I guess I was a little vague in my prompts request.

I’m gonna take a break from Immortals. My request for prompts is still open, I guess, but I’m feeling a little discouraged by the results and I’m definitely feeling very uninspired.

Today in “can’t Crumpet catch a break?” I found out my mother-in-law has been  hospitalized because of excessively high blood pressure. My husband is at work and won’t find out until he gets home (his sister is wisely choosing NOT to let him know until he’s home, because he has a hard time processing news like this and his coworkers are not especially supportive). My MIL is going to be released this morning and is expected to be fine, but … Goddammit, I’m just so done with all of this.

Today is my birthday. Tomorrow I have to clean and pack my apartment because we’ve got exterminators coming on Monday because of the bed bug infestation. I’m not sleeping (hard to sleep when you know there are literally bugs IN YOUR BED). I’m tired and anxious and now I’m dreading my husband coming home from work because I know how upset he’s going to be and it’s all just one more fucking thing on top of another.

I just want something nice to happen for a change.

Okay, so in case anyone hasn’t noticed, I am currently distracting myself from stress by writing and playing. But here’s the thing: we discovered we have bed bugs in our apartment. Now, it’s fine, we know we’re not to blame for the infestation (our property manager was VERY clear on that), and we don’t have to pay for the exterminators.

Buuuuut. My birthday is on Saturday, and I’m going to be spending my day preparing for the exterminators. We have to box up our books, clean and package our clothes and bed linens, and move a bunch of furniture around so that the exterminators can get to all the nooks and crannies. We’re probably going to have to postpone all our birthday plans for the weekend so that we can get all this done.

And, to top it all off, we need to find somewhere to take our two cats for the 4-6 hours they can’t be in the apartment. Strangely enough, most people don’t want to board your cats for you when they learn it’s because of a bed bug infestation (not that I blame them!) and we don’t have the money to board them at a kennel. (Plus we’d have to get them both checked out at the vet beforehand, which, again, we cannot afford. Never mind the unlikelihood of us being able to FIND a kennel with such short notice.)

This is wreaking havoc on my anxiety, because there are actual fucking BUGS in my BED, and it makes me feel like such a disgusting and dirty person for this to be happening to us. (Even though, again, our property manager was quick to say this wasn’t our fault and we are in no way responsible for this.) I can’t sleep, my head won’t stop hurting, and I honestly have no clue what the hell we’re going to do with the cats on Monday.

Happy birthday me, I guess?

So … it’s been less than a month since one of our three cats died, and now I’m facing the reality that the other cat – our eldest, who has been unwell for a while now, who was actually the one we expected to lose first – is reaching the end of his life. This is something that I’ve been facing on my own for a while, I think, while my husband is kind of grimly optimistic that he’ll pull through.

At this point he’s not eating on his own at all, and can barely move under his own power. I held him up so that he could drink from the water fountain; I offered him some warmed wet food; then I just sat and held him for a little while. He doesn’t seem to be suffering (he’s a huge wussy boy so I think we’d know if he was in pain). He seems pretty chill, actually: content to just lie around and be petted and carried about in my arms.

I’m waiting to hear back from our vet to discuss the next step. I have a feeling I know what that next step is going to be, and I want to crawl under the covers and ignore it.

I don’t want to euthanize him before he’s really ready to go, but … I don’t know if this is him telling me he’s ready to go. I know my husband can’t handle this (in addition to our cats dying, he also learned very recently that his father has cancer as well as some form of neurological processing issue that isn’t dementia or Alzheimer yet is cognitively similar). I’ve hit that stage of anxiety and depression where I pretty much just feel numb and exhausted and unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. I saw a post on Tumblr the other day about “executive dysfunction” and I don’t think I’ve ever had what I’m feeling explained so well and so clearly. I can’t sleep – I get restless and my mind starts racing whenever I lay down. I have too much to think about and nothing much to occupy my time with.

Mostly I’ve kind of reached that point where I’d like for someone else to take over for me. Someone else can make the hard decisions, go job-hunting, tackle interviews and updating my resume, deal with my mother, deal with my in-laws, handle all my responsibilities and take care of me on top of it all because I just don’t have it in me to be in charge of myself.

aearyn:

smuggler-captain:

salaciouscrumpet:

A little self-indulgent rambling here …

Real Life

™ continues to be difficult for various reasons (as I’m typing this, one of my two surviving cats is wandering the apartment, crying for his dead brother), but it’s survivable. Folks here on Tumblr have been amazingly supportive, as have my friends and family out in Real Space

™.

So, I guess I have a good news/bad news situation here. The good news is, I’m writing again, a LOT. The bad news is (I guess from the point of view of the folks who follow me here on Tumblr) I’m not working on Past Imperfect, or A Good Sort of Pain or Fire in the Head, or even any work of SWTOR fanfiction. Instead, I’m working on an original piece, a fantasy novel that’s kind of been kicking around in my brain for a while. I won’t be posting it on AO3 or here on Tumblr because ideally I’d like to finish it and maybe one day get it published.

I’m excited about it (which is something, if you’ve ever battled depression and/or anxiety – it is very difficult to drum up excitement for anything, sometimes), but I know it’s not the stuff you’re looking for me to work on. I promise I’m not abandoning any of my fanfics, but I can’t guarantee when I’ll get back to them. Apologies for that; I hope folks will understand.

@salaciouscrumpet

I’m glad to hear you’re finding something that’s making you feel happy and excited. I get that a lot. I’ve been in the same place myself. A big reason I’m running with my inspiration for the world I’m building too.

You write what you want and what makes you happy! Looking forward to seeing your novel in kindle or some place awesome. 🙂

And I would like to remind everyone (there was a really good post about this but I can’t find it at the moment) that you are not REQUIRED to write things just because people are looking forward to it – if people are disappointed, so be it, but they’ll live. Do what you want, and what makes you feel good! Especially if it’s hard for you to get to that place where you do feel good. 

I love you guys. My followers are the best followers. ❤

A little self-indulgent rambling here …

Real Life

™ continues to be difficult for various reasons (as I’m typing this, one of my two surviving cats is wandering the apartment, crying for his dead brother), but it’s survivable. Folks here on Tumblr have been amazingly supportive, as have my friends and family out in Real Space

™.

So, I guess I have a good news/bad news situation here. The good news is, I’m writing again, a LOT. The bad news is (I guess from the point of view of the folks who follow me here on Tumblr) I’m not working on Past Imperfect, or A Good Sort of Pain or Fire in the Head, or even any work of SWTOR fanfiction. Instead, I’m working on an original piece, a fantasy novel that’s kind of been kicking around in my brain for a while. I won’t be posting it on AO3 or here on Tumblr because ideally I’d like to finish it and maybe one day get it published.

I’m excited about it (which is something, if you’ve ever battled depression and/or anxiety – it is very difficult to drum up excitement for anything, sometimes), but I know it’s not the stuff you’re looking for me to work on. I promise I’m not abandoning any of my fanfics, but I can’t guarantee when I’ll get back to them. Apologies for that; I hope folks will understand.

salaciouscrumpet:

Well, today promises to be shit.

We woke up this morning to discover that one of our three cats had collapsed on the loveseat and basically spent the night lying in his own urine. He’s conscious, albeit barely, and his breathing is laboured. He purrs when we pet him and lifts his head to look at us, but otherwise lies on his side, staring and gasping.

The vet’s office opens in 2 hours. (We can’t afford the 24/7 emergency care vet.) I anticipate that I will be bringing him in to be looked over, and then calling my husband – who had to go to work and is a bigger wreck than I am – to come join us as we put our kitty down.

Of our other two cats, one of them is clearly declining – he no longer eats (we’ve been syringe-feeding him, which he tolerates well) and moves with great caution, and I know it’s just a matter of time before we have to let him go, too.

Our third cat is about a decade younger (the oldest two are 15 and 14, so they’ve lived good, long, happy lives) and has become a complete snuggle-bug, moving far past his aloof, overly cautious roots (we suspect he was abused before we adopted him).

My husband is the one who is breaking down, so I’m the one who is calm and composed. I will make the hard decisions, because he won’t be able to, and because I can. In a way this is kind of funny, because I’m the one with depression and anxiety, but I’m very good at faking normalcy when necessary.

He’s passed away before I could even call the vet’s office.

On the one hand, this saves me from having to make the choice myself. On the other, I’m hating myself, because maybe we could’ve saved him if we’d done something sooner.

My husband just texted me to say he was trying to figure out a way to leave work so he can some with me to take our kitty in to see the vet. I don’t know how to tell him that won’t be necessary, our kitty has already died.

Well, today promises to be shit.

We woke up this morning to discover that one of our three cats had collapsed on the loveseat and basically spent the night lying in his own urine. He’s conscious, albeit barely, and his breathing is laboured. He purrs when we pet him and lifts his head to look at us, but otherwise lies on his side, staring and gasping.

The vet’s office opens in 2 hours. (We can’t afford the 24/7 emergency care vet.) I anticipate that I will be bringing him in to be looked over, and then calling my husband – who had to go to work and is a bigger wreck than I am – to come join us as we put our kitty down.

Of our other two cats, one of them is clearly declining – he no longer eats (we’ve been syringe-feeding him, which he tolerates well) and moves with great caution, and I know it’s just a matter of time before we have to let him go, too.

Our third cat is about a decade younger (the oldest two are 15 and 14, so they’ve lived good, long, happy lives) and has become a complete snuggle-bug, moving far past his aloof, overly cautious roots (we suspect he was abused before we adopted him).

My husband is the one who is breaking down, so I’m the one who is calm and composed. I will make the hard decisions, because he won’t be able to, and because I can. In a way this is kind of funny, because I’m the one with depression and anxiety, but I’m very good at faking normalcy when necessary.