A Solid Half Dozen

It’s been eighty-four six long years since my last post, but I’m the same old Daph and I suppose that’s the point of the name of this blog. Over six long days this week I’ll be driving back to Canada from the California coast and when I feel the need to say something about it longer than an Instagram post, then here we’ll be.

I really don’t feel like the same old Daph.

Yes, I will always be me, because there’s no other way to be, but I can see from the way I described myself in my old About page that I can’t quite describe myself in the same way now. Even if in the minor details.

Have I not experienced and learned things in the past six years that change who I am? Of course, I have. We all have. What we seek are the consistent things that still make us who we are. Those things make me the same old Daph. Just a little older. A little more tired. A little greyer. A little less little.

Speaking of which, I’ve been doing a thing this past month where I go out and enjoy what I can one last time. You can check them out in the aforementioned Instagram page. I haven’t been able to do as much as I’ve wanted to, for various reasons, but today, to get through the packing, I think I’ll get some boba tea and donuts.

Maybe a solid half dozen.

♥ Daphne

You Are What You Eat

Hey you,

Today’s topic is food.

Oye.

Food and I? Well, if we had a relationship on Facebook, it would be “it’s complicated”. I really love food. I love the smell, the texture, the colours, the variety, the chemical experiments that involve cooking/baking, etc. I mean, think about it… you pour several different things into a bowl, mix it around, plop pieces of it onto a tray, heat it up, and bam… cookies.

It’s f’ing magic..

I don’t cook enough of a variety of stuff as I’d like, but I make do and we get by. I can put together a pretty mean pasta sauce, as evident by my stomach/hips. The bf and I cook almost every night. We only eat dinner out maybe two or three times a month. This is mostly budgetary. Maybe once a month we’ll order pizza, like last night. We actually recently discussed how to make better use of our time, both for ourselves, and our time together. Cooking dinner every night came up as a time suck, so we’re working on it.

I know many suggest to pre-plan meals. To make big batches of stuff once a week so that you can easily have it ready to heat/serve/eat. I might explore that option and see if it’s worth attempting on Saturdays (unfortunately I work every Sunday, which seems to be the preferred food-prep day for the week).

But here’s the thing. It’s not just the time, or lack thereof, that makes food complicated. It’s the love and the need for food contradicting with my desire to not be 50 lbs overweight. I’ve lost 50 lbs via a ‘leading weightloss program’ let’s call it, and then rather quickly gained back 70 lbs. Then I later lost 30 lbs via a ‘fad diet’, and eventually gained back 40 lbs. I keep thinking and saying that I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life now, and then my body is like…. no jk, you can keep going, here’s another 5 lb… um… thanks?

It’s difficult for me to restrict myself. I already restrict myself in many other ways financially, so I want to allow myself to not be restrictive at least somewhere in my life, and I choose food I guess… Dumb.

I can not have a conversation about food without a conversation about weight.

I’m the kind of person who needs to eat until I’m full. I know the science. I know it takes time to feel full, and I need to give myself time. I know I can have smaller portions. Eat several meals throughout the day instead of big ones where I indulge from being too hungry. Speaking of too hungry. I’m certain that I get hypoglycemia. I have actually fainted before from not eating. I also get panicked anxiety, dizzy, weak, etc…  and I know I just need a piece of bread or something and I’m fine. It happens very suddenly, and it is actually kinda scary. Bodies are weird. I don’t know how to prevent it other than to eat more often, but I don’t want to eat more often because weight.

I know I could just eat more vegetables and fruits, and less carbs and sugars, but I try and it doesn’t work, and I don’t want to. I just don’t. *stomps foot*

I told you it’s complicated.

♥ Daphne

Today, or… Yesterday

Hey you,

I’m to write about my day. It was a pretty normal one.

The sun shone, and a cool breeze kept the 75ish° weather at standard. It was how most days began here. It is a California beach town, after all.

You’d think that with the weather being so similar day after day that people would stop talking about it. They don’t. When people find out that I moved here from Canada they assume I moved here for the weather. I didn’t. I like snow, and seasons. When it rains, people don’t know what to do with themselves. Even some of the malls are outside.

But today was not a day like that. Today was any other sunny Saturday. People posted beach pics on FB.

We had big plans today, and to our credit we sort of did most of them… I guess.

The bf and I’s first stop was fulfilling something we’d discussed doing together back on our first or second date. I mentioned before that sometimes we like to hang out and write together, and the same is true of reading together. We went to a fun local cafe, had breakfast/lunch and hung out for about an hour reading. I couldn’t help but compare it to where I work, and of course the Matcha is always greener on the other side. But I digress there.

We also saw this beauty for sale.

We stopped at a grand opening of a new PetSmart in our neighbourhood on the way home, and saw some beautiful cats and dogs that were up for adoption. I donated $10, and the bf and I spent some time scritching the chin of one of the more frightened looking cats. She was sweet. There was also another one that looked like his cat… a super cute tux. ♥

Everything so far so good until something that someone did/said while we were in line at the grocery store next door hit a nerve or three. It happens that quickly. The darkness creeps in. The doubt. The misery. The frustration. Something just gets triggered, and then blam.

The next set of plans were altered a bit as a result. The energy was sucked out of me for a little bit, and I had to fight off tears… but we still managed to get laundry done, the bf went for his run, and I did my indoor walking workout, so it was ok after all.

As I waited in the laundry room for the washer to finish I was phone-less and book-less, so I was stuck looking around the natural world, I suppose it was like in the old days. How much more observant were people then, when all they had to look at was what was around them? Did they see more colours? Smell more smells? I lived back in that time… I definitely feel like my attention span and patience has suffered in recent years thanks to technology. Still, I managed to learn of another cat that lives in our apartment complex. He, or she, peered out the window at me from the second floor. We had a staring contest. That makes seven that I know of in our building (including our two). I guess when you’re one of the very few places that allows pets you tend to get them all together. These are my people.

We ordered pizza because we deserved it, and tried to start watching a new show but it didn’t catch our interest enough and we found too many cons over pros. I’m not even going to bother mentioning what show.

I might’ve mentioned that we’re developing a card game. We debating between working on it tonight or playing a new one that we bought last weekend, and went with playing, or as I call it, ‘researching’. It was fun and frustrating, and we thought of some tips for our own game so research success.

Then we watched SNL’s Prince tribute (RIP)… and that leads us to where we find ourselves here. Nearly 3am and I’m now finally writing. I almost didn’t. I just didn’t fit it into the day. I felt bad… again… This 2-3am post probably isn’t as creative and interesting as if it’d been a 9pm or 3pm blog post, but it exists. Why? Because my bf is awesome, and supports me, and encourages me, and for whatever reason, he believes in me. He knows that if I hadn’t written a blog post today, even a lame one like this, that I’d go to bed feeling defeated, as though I’d given up. He was right, and he didn’t want to let that happen.

So, here’s over 700 words. Mediocre words, but words nonetheless… And here’s to not giving up… because maybe some day he’ll need to stay up late writing too, and I’ll be there for him.

♥ Daphne

 

Sticks and Stones, or the Power of Words

Hey you,

Today I’m supposed to lie to you. Really. That’s what the prompt is called. Lie. It goes on to suggest that it’s talking more along the lines of imagination, and suggest I rewrite an actual story, change reality, or something like that… but I’m caught up on the word lie.

I’ve been humming and hawing over what to lie about, and I can’t, and I won’t. I don’t want this blog or my writing to be about lying. I tried thinking of it the other way, the more imaginative way, but I’m blocked by that specific phrasing.

To me lying is deception. I’m not going to write an imaginative story, or create an alternate reality, or rewrite history in a way that you’ll actually believe it’s a truth. You should KNOW that it’s not a truthful representation, and thus it shouldn’t be considered lying. Lies are done purposefully.

The definition of lying is deliberately untruthful; deceitful; false: …

Ick. No. That is not what imagination is. That is not what writing is.

Then it got me thinking about power of words. What if the prompt had been phrased more like ‘imagine’, or ‘create’, or ‘rewrite history’? Those things are fun, great ideas, and for a writer, they’re motivating! Why is lying associated with that? Leave lying out of imagination. My creativity is stifled because now I am mulling ideas in my head about how we’re lied to our entire lives by anyone who ever told us a story.

Words stick with people. They HURT people. It’s not about them being sensitive. It’s not about whether people take things too personally. It’s all the negative connotations that go along with causing people pain and suffering, no matter how severe.

If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothin’ at all. Yassss….

The pen is mightier than the sword. Yassss…

If I’m not writing about truths, then what is this blog here for?

♥ Daphne

Persuade That I Can Not Persuade

Hey you,

Today’s challenge is about persuasion. I’m supposed to attempt to get you to try something new, change your opinion about something, or so on… but I don’t want to. I’m exhausted, and I’m not a persuasive or debating person.

I’m a Libra. Part of that means that I’m good at seeing both sides of an issue and staying open minded (it’s a quality I admire and appreciate). It’s hard to really feel persuasive in that case. It’s as though I’m saying I’m right and you’re wrong. There are only a select few things that I have strong enough opinions on that would warrant me feeling that if you don’t believe what I believe then you’re a doodiehead… I’m not going to tell you what to think politically and/or religiously. That’s such a personal thing, and I think more suitable for one on one discussion, where I can hear why you believe what you do (and then use it against you! muah ahhahahahahaa)…

But really, I mean, the synonyms for persuade, according to thesaurus.com, include such gems as brainwash, sway, coerce, coax, propagandize, and exhort.  Ick.

I’m not going to win any debates. In my high school year book, I was listed as Most Likely To Be Falling Down, not Most Successful, or Most Likely To Be Famous, or Most Persuasive.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a pushover… I have opinions, and willingly share them. I’m stubborn.

Spay and neuter your pets! Adopt, don’t shop! Chocolate is always better (ok, maybe not always… and not white chocolate)! Don’t be a sexist, racist, homophobic jerkface (is that one even debatable?)! Canada is awesome! Things like that…

But you are you and I am me. You might think that vanilla is better. And you’d be wrong.

Part of being me is wanting to research things, especially if I’m supposed to be persuasive. But not tonight.

Part of being me is being introverted (kind of ambiverted really, but the older I get the more introverted I become)… It’s ok to relax. I need to disengage and to step inside my head for a bit after being social all day.

So, long story short, I just hope I have persuaded you into believing that I am not always persuasive… especially not tonight. For that I’m sorry. I won’t be winning any awards with this post, but at least I kept going.

♥ Daphne

Write About Writing, They Said. It’ll Be Fun.

I woke up later than I meant to this morning. Read for a bit. No writing. This is writing.

I had a long day at work. No writing. This is writing.

Boyfriend made dinner, and I could’ve written while he was doing that, but I was tired and sore, lazy, Facebook happened instead. No writing. This is writing.

We ate, watched an ep of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. I read some of The Lightning Thief (no spoilers!). I updated my browser and flash player and restarted my computer because everything stopped working mid-sentence and I couldn’t type. No writing. This is writing.

It’s 9:30pm-ish now. The bf and I had made a plan to hang out tonight and write. We live together, so ‘plans to hang out’ don’t really make sense as they normally would, but you know what I mean. He decided to write a short story tonight instead of editing his novel (a fine choice either way). He spent the first 20 mins doing some background research. Scratching his chin. Making little frustrated noises. Not writing. This is writing.

My computer keeps acting up periodically still. My back kinda hurts, I think mostly because I’m trying to type with the laptop literally on my lap – isn’t that weird? This is writing. 

I glance over and see a few paragraphs on his page now. I ask him how it’s going. He shrugs and replies with a meh and that his story is ‘fucked up’, aka challenging, probably. I’m curious to read it when he’s done. This is writing.

I think he’s a good writer, but sometimes he doesn’t think he is. He’s written three novels, some of which will hopefully be published this year or next. We’re doing research on ebooks, marketing, cover design, self-publishing… Not writing. This is writing.

Among a few other things I written and finished but didn’t publish or do anything with other than hand in as assignments, I’ve written the first draft of a feature-length screenplay, mostly thanks to deadlines. I completed it two years ago, and it was an idea brewing in my head for two years before that. Even though I think it’s pretty good, and I’d like to rewrite, edit, and shop it around, I haven’t touched it since and maybe never will.  I’ve also written a few shorts that I haven’t looked back on in years. Abandoned. This is writing.

I used to bring a journal everywhere. I’ve written in one since I was a teenager, like many people, and picked it up again after the fire. It helped a bit then. There were a lot of times that I would bring it places with a plan to write, but wouldn’t write. One of my favourite places was at the beach. Is that cliche? I thought it’d end up being really cool looking, like a scrapbook with ticket stubs, doodles, coffee stains, etc… I guess it has some of that, but mostly it’s just rambling, and trying to figure things out in my life. I have three blank journals that I haven’t even started to write in yet. I even used to hand-make journals. Basically, all not writing. This is writing. … ?

I remember that we had an old typewriter when I was a kid. My parents, for the most part, are pretty technologically advanced (hi mom), so the fact that we had a typewriter was just kinda cool, and doesn’t mean I’m 100 years old. I don’t even remember where it came from or who it belonged to, but I do remember typing a story on it about a cat and a dog or something like that. I was pretty young. I also remember writing a children’s book in high school that I am super proud of and want to publish. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. This is writing.

One of the cats is sitting on the bf’s lap and rubbing his chin on the laptop. He literally has the laptop on top of the cat now (photographic evidence). This is writing.

I hit 500 words already, but I’m not stopping yet. I still have more to say, I guess. I committed to this challenge and I want to keep going. It is helpful to have to think about different ways to present something, to communicate in a more interesting way, to get my brain wired again creatively and be working towards something. This is writing.

Do I want to be a ‘writer’, and keep up this charade and maybe write a novel too (I have ideas!)? I don’t know… but for now, this is fun, frustrating, inspiring, discouraging, exciting, overwhelming, and this is writing.

♥ Daphne

Teachings about Tea

For the purposes of the writing challenge I just want to say : Hi, I’m back, have wi-fi again, and will add the missed days to the end of the challenge (basically extending it by 3 days later on), because they’ll still be fun to write about!

Onward! Today’s challenge is about teaching, and I’m going to a brief overview of Tea!

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Tea History & Random Facts

Tea has a long history across the world that goes far beyond the Boston Tea Party. Tea drinking began in China many centuries ago as a medicinal and recreational drink (like it is today!). The English expanded the tasty beverage around the world, as they are prone to do with things they like.

• China remains the largest producer of tea in the world
• 80% of tea consumed in the US is iced tea
• Iced tea in the US is gross and not like what I’m used to from Canada where it’s sweetened to all heck (maybe not fact..) and it took me a long time to get used to that
• Tea is the second most widely consumed drink in the world, water is the first of course
• Some teas are considered morning teas, like – you guessed it – English Breakfast, while others are more commonly consumed in the afternoon, such as Earl Grey, or late evening teas like Chamomile

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Tea Types

Believe it or not, all types of tea (except herbals) come from the same plant. It’s called Camellia sinensis, and is an evergreen shrub native to Asia, grown in tropical or subtropical climates. Main tea types include Black, Oolong, Green, White, and Herbal (the last of which actually isn’t really tea since, as I mentioned, it comes from different plants).

There’s a ridiculously long explanation for how tea is processed and oxidized to create all the different types, but to be honest, I don’t really  understand it. Just know that Black is the most oxidized and processed (in this case processed doesn’t mean additives like processed meat though.. hah). Try a variety to find out your favourites! Names and flavours of tea are often dependent on where it’s grown, kinda like wine.

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Storing and Brewing Tea

It’s best to store tea in an air tight container in dark place kept out of contact from other teas, spices, or flavoured things. Tea absorbs scents and flavours pretty easily.

You can get tea in pre-bagged individual packets that you plop right in your cup (which is ok, but usually consists of crushed leaves… aww), or looseleaf, which is usually put in an infuser or through a strainer, though a few types, like blooming tea buds, can be left right in the cup.

As for brewing it, that varies depending on the type of tea! Check out this handy dandy chart, which seems about right. I can’t find the original source unfortunately.

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What’s the deal with Matcha?

Matcha is uber hawt right now. It’s a powdered, concentrated type of green tea from Japan. It’s used in traditional tea ceremonies, but you’re also likely to find it these days as the special ingredient in green tea flavoured goodies like ice cream, donuts, and whatever other weird things people make up. It can also be made as a latte or blended drink, which I highly recommend because yum. It’s also allegedly really healthy for you (antioxidant and all that).

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Tea in general has some great health benefits, without many risks or side effects like other beverages out there. It can wake you up, or put you to sleep, help cleanse you and improve your immune system, prevent cancer (allegedly), settle your stomach (especially herbals or tea with flavours, like ginger and peppermint)! Basically, it’s versatile, adaptable and awesome. Like me. Hah. So go ahead, hop on that tea bandwagon.

And there ya go! A super brief and incomplete lesson on tea. 🙂

♥ Daphne

Memory Burn

Now she speaks of the day with ease. Brushing it off as something that must have happened to everyone. She makes it seem as thought it’s not a big deal, so that she can try to lessen the fact that it was a big deal. Worse things have happened to others. So she tries to laugh… to forget.

But moving on isn’t about forgetting.

So, there she was, just a’walking down the street…  She strolled home around midnight, with one of her new housemates and a guest that was staying on the couch for a few days. They’d just seen a movie, and picked up some beer to chill with and hang out once they got back. She’d just moved in a week and a half ago. She hadn’t expected to live there long, and hadn’t even unpacked everything. In fact, she had to move again by the end of the month since a different housemate had turned out to be allergic to her cats. But that night it didn’t matter.

Then they turned a corner, onto their street.

The flashing lights concerned them immediately. Does that look like it’s near our place? It looks like it’s near our house. But we’re a few blocks away so maybe not. Ask that lady.

Yes, it’s that wooden house in behind the other Victorian looking blue one.

Their pace quickened along with her heart rate.

And then there they were. The firetrucks. The stench. The holes in the roof and the walls. The fireman shoveling ashes/foam out of her bedroom window. The fire was long put out.

The cats. I have two. Did you see any cats? One of them ran out the door when we kicked it in. What did it look like? What about the other one? No. Can I go in? No. What happened? We don’t really know. Neighbours heard a loud explosion.

Phone calls. Crying. The Red Cross comes to try to help. She’s sitting on the curb and hears the lady speaking but can’t physically speak or process what she is saying. Later she realizes this meant she might’ve been in shock. They helped her a lot in the coming weeks.

What time is it? I need to cancel my plans this weekend. How do I call my mom? My cell phone won’t call internationally. Does yours? Wait, it’s 3am there. Who are you? Oh, you live next door. I’m sorry we met this way too.

You can go in now.

the next day

It smells. There’s water on the floor, and a hole axed into the interior wall. Ashes and some material she doesn’t recognize have fallen on her shoe rack by the door. It’s dark.

The firemen stopped their clean up work in her bedroom as she walked in.

“Resident”. That was her name to them.

She covered her mouth. Gasped, and tried to breathe.

Outside again, talking in confusion with neighbours and friends. It’s late.

She screams her cat’s name and points near the front door. He’s wandering the yard. She catches him and screams again or cries. She’s not sure which. But he’s physically fine.

An hour or so later she had a friend check a pile of melted and smoke damaged clothes in her bedroom closet. Maybe her other cat is in there? Her body? No.

We should go.

She leaves food for the other cat just in case. Wait, I forgot something. Back in. A brown blur scurries across the waterlogged floor. Slips. Runs up the stairs.

The other one.

She scream/cries again. They’re both fine. Everything else doesn’t matter.

They go to leave, and she tries to put her cat into the carrier a neighbour let her borrow, but it clings to her arm and won’t let go, so she holds it on her lap as they drive away.

Later she found out the local news had come to interview bystanders. Strangers. Watching her bedroom and patio burn while no one was home. Interviewed about their thoughts. They interviewed her the next day. She cried on the  local news. She’s kinda homeless now. Couchsurfing for a week. Friends, coworkers, and acquaintances support in ways she can’t imagine. Gift cards. Free clothes. A roof over her head.

People are so nice.

She maybe had PTSD for a while. Had to leave campus when they installed a wood-burning oven in the cafeteria. The smell was too much. She kept randomly remembering stuff she lost. Photos. Clothes. Her brother’s backpack. Her Canada flag. Her journals. Things people had made for her. Her grandfather’s shawl. Her mother’s artwork that she’d rescued from a yard sale. The stuff important enough to unpack in the first week. It was just stuff, but it meant something.

But it doesn’t mean as much as life itself… and life goes on.

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I’ve had a lot of important days in my life, and could have chosen any number of them to write about in today’s prompt. I didn’t go to either of my two college graduation ceremonies though, and I haven’t ‘won a big game’. I got married, but am now happily divorced so that’s well behind me. I moved to a new country, but don’t remember that day, so much as the days that followed. I remember significant moments with my boyfriend. When we first met, our first kiss, meeting his friends and his parents, going camping for the first time, moving to our new apartment together…. but moments aren’t days.

I really wanted to make myself write about something else, anything else, to not relive this. Individual days are tough to bring to singular importance,  and I prefer to look at periods in our life rather than one day… That said, I chose this day because it is a rare one that feels individually significant, and I remember it clearer than almost any other day… and I chose it because it’s time to let it go.

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♥ Daphne

I’m Free to Write What I Want – So … Cats.

Hey you,

Today’s challenge? Free-writing. Blahity blah until I run out. It’s intended to get us comfortable with writing off the top of our heads without scratching for that perfect word or passage that holds up progress and/or process. I think that’s already basically what I do, but nothing like some good practice to keep the words flowing.

I’m trying not to cover any topics that I will be coming up later under other prompts, so I think I’ll write about cats, because internet. And because I really could go on and on about them, so I’ll try to keep this short.

The Cat Past

Growing up I lived on a farm from about age 7 through moving out at 19ish. I don’t really know of anyone who lives out in the country and doesn’t have a cat nearby. I remember getting kittens from the neighbour next door. Two tabbies – one for me, one for my brother. Mine was orange and looked kinda like Garfield, and grew into a tough husky tom cat. I liked him, but unfortunately don’t have any pics.

In my twenties my parents somehow ended up with more cats, kind of randomly. It all mostly started with this one particular grey beauty that had a few litters over the years (pic is of one of the toms). I remember sitting with my mom and watching the kittens play for ages. There was a new litter around every year. These days I strongly advocate for spaying and neutering your pets!!

Once, a kitten somehow ended up in my mom’s car (or rather, under it), and rode with her to work one day!! It was fine, and someone saw it roaming the parking lot. She gave it away to a co-worker, so all’s well that ends well.

The Cat Present

I now have two cats. Kitty, my love, is 13 years old, and I’ve had her since she was a little kitten. I fell in love with her kitten polka-dot belly, and most people fall for her gigantic eyes (which aren’t really given justice in this pic). I adopted her from Animal Aide of St. Thomas-Elgin. She carried me through most of my 20s, early 30s, a couple of ex-boyfriends, and an ex-husband, and even moved to California from Canada with me. On the drive here (which was about 4 days at 8-10 hours a day) she’d meow when she’d had enough and it was time to stop for the night. hah

She’s shy, sweet, and beautiful, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything; human, feline, or otherwise. She’s basically been the only consistent thing in my life for 13 years. I’ve already preemptively cried about the thought that, in theory, I will out-live her. My bf and her are adorable together too, which is good…  because that’s a deal breaker. 😉

The other cat currently in my life is Finnegan. Well, Sir Finnegan Walter O’Malley, to be precise. Oh, this guy. EVERYONE loves Finnegan. No exaggeration. Even if you don’t like cats, or you’re allergic, or prefer dogs… I have not witnessed anyone who doesn’t end up loving this guy. He’s handsome, fluffy, talkative, playful, chill, and an attention seeker. He chirps goodbye when we leave, and runs to the door when we get home. He even plays fetch (no, really). He is SUCH a character.

I adopted Finnegan 6 years ago from Animal Shelter Assistance Program, not long after moving to California. Not long ago he got unexpectedly pretty sick. We had to rush him to the vet, and 3 days at the vet, several medications, and over $2000 later (ugh…), we still weren’t really sure what happened, but he’s ok now… Weird! It was some sort of infection in his bladder or kidneys. Could’ve been a lot worse, so having faced the thought of him not in my life, I’m grateful even more that he is. His presence is a big one, and when he’s not around it leaves a big hole.

The Cat Future

Easter weekend we found out that a cat that my bf’s parents had rescued turned out to be pregnant. Oh my. Soooo… naaaaturally…. We’re getting a kitten!!!!! *squeeeeeal* This weekend we’re going to meet the litter and pick one out, and will return there (they live a few hours away) to bring it home in May when it’s old enough. We already know that its name will be Senator Purrington. hehehe… I’ll be sure to share pics, don’t worry! More on that later.

Anyway, I love to hear about people’s furry family members, so share them if you’ve got them! And check out Finnegan’s Facebook page (yes, that is a real thing that I just typed).

♥ Daphne

Wake Up and Write, or at Least Wake Up (The Sad Life)

Hey you,

Let me start today with a quote, because the best words are often someone else’s.

“Even the smallest victory is never to be taken for granted. Each victory must be applauded, because it is so easy not to battle at all, to just accept and call that acceptance inevitable.”

Audre Lorde

I almost wish I’d found this yesterday, when I was talking about letting myself down. I accepted that failure was the norm. That was just who I was. Today I’m going to write about something I don’t share with many people.

It’s about struggling to get out of bed every day and why, some days, that’s enough.

Today’s prompt is about waking up early (I didn’t). Some days waking up feels like my greatest victory of the day. Getting out of bed, and making myself do something. Get dressed. Go for a walk. Eat something. Be alive for a reason. Once, after one of the most difficult experiences of my life, I wrote in my journal “I’m Alive For A Reason“. That was 2013 and I still don’t know this reason.  I’m 35 years old, and I still struggle with figuring out why I should wake up every day.

Don’t get me wrong. I have many positive things happening in my life. But the brain questions everything. Stresses about everything. Questions why you’re here and not there. How could you let this happen. Why should you bother trying? It goes on and on, and sometimes it’s not pretty.

I’m not going to claim expertise or wisdom about anything. I’m not a doctor. I’m not officially diagnosed with any ailments. I thought about going into a long winded blurb about depression and/or suicide. I recently lost an acquaintance to suicide, and part of me wants to honour her memory by talking about it, but I don’t feel like I have that privilege, since I didn’t know her as well as I should have (regrets)… This is not the time or place for me to talk about that.

Today, ironically, it’s a little difficult for me to write about this because I feel disconnected from the part of me that walks under a cloud most of the time. Taking a step back and viewing this from the outside makes me realize how people who don’t experience it constantly can’t possibly understand this feeling. I don’t mean once in a while feeling down while you’re otherwise lovin’ life. I mean waking up every day under a cloud. The struggle that so many people go through just showing up every day. Just imagine that your whole life felt impossible. But, actually don’t try to imagine that. No one wants people to feel that way.

There have been a couple of times in the past few years that I recall feeling actual freedom and happiness. It made me cry. I could feel it in every part of my body. I was light. My choices made sense. My life made sense. Everything was going to be ok. You can handle it. Nothing was wrong… until happiness made me cry. Well that doesn’t make sense – you probably say. So, why? Because I finally knew what I was missing out on. It usually does feel like there is a cloud following me around, blocking my ability to be present, grateful, confident, proud, to be myself. There are fleeting moments of hope, when I think I can do something. Like the other day, for example, when I accepted this challenge. I can do this! It will be so great! I’ll accomplish so many wonderful things!

Will I though? Will this be worth waking up for? Oh, there it is. There’s that doubt. Ok, everything’s in balance now. Everything’s fine.

My point, beyond rambling, is just this… sometimes, despite what everyone tries to tell you, you can’t choose your thoughts. Try though… TRY to choose happiness. Let it happen. Don’t doubt it. You’re allowed to be happy. You’re allowed to celebrate the little victories. And you’re allowed to be sad. Both are ok… Wait… brb. I think I need to go watch Inside Out again. 😉

♥ Daphne

1 (800) 273-8255

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

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pug photo by Matthew Wiebe @ unsplash
Raincloud – unknown source. Joy/Sadness from Pixar, of course.