dispatches from the loony bin / Mental Illness and Mental Health

The Love You Give Is Enough

Yesterday I ran a lot into something that’s physically painful for me to see: clappy hand emojis between words. It’s an internet trend to make what are considered important points this way, instead of the old-fashioned placing of a period between each word. (What. was. wrong. with. that?) You’re probably wondering why/how it makes me sick. The best explanation I can come up with is that my visual processor is over-developed and hyper-competent after a lifetime of having to make up for my auditory disabilities — my hearing is fine, my brain has problems processing and parsing sounds —

dispatches from the loony bin

I didn’t use to think I was pretty; or, In defense of the selfie

If you spend any time on the internet you know that the word selfie often takes on connotations that are disparaging. Only self-centred hipsters do that, people might say, or Selfies are for women/girls who are attention-whores. (And yes, women are always “attention-whores”; they are never simply self-centred. Hooray sexist gendered language!) And perhaps the selfie has become a bit gratuitous, just like not everyone needs to see every picture of every meal you eat. (I am a fan of taking pictures of particularly appetizing looking meals, but trust me, you are not seeing my full diet if you

The Borderlands Saga / The Third Age / Wolf Pack Life

Blood, Gravy, and my Cill shift

It’s been an interesting week. By interesting I usually mean in the curse sense of the word, May you live in interesting times, etc etc etc life has been kind of sucky. But whatever. If you’re going to say anything about me or my mom, you have to admit we bounce back. Things break and we pick up the pieces and soldier on. Last night a lot of things broke. Literally. We were sitting outside to eat dinner, as we have for a few nights since getting the pavilion back up on the concrete back porch. It had been