ask me questions.
ask me anything, truly.
you know, except stalker things. those things are not ok. cmon people.
<3
<3
&
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i don't have this divinity of being a "core" member for much longer, so my last journal using this fancy thing is an open place for you all to
ask me anything, truly.
&
ask me anything, truly.
&
thank you
if you'd like to continue to follow me and my creative endeavors, i've joined tumblr. the username is the same there as it is here. for anyone still here - hi. i'm not coming back to deviantart, but i'm doing really well. better than i've ever been, really, which is a weird thing to have grown into during some of the darkest times in modern history. and that's not to say i'm not affected by it, but it is to say that i've made a place for myself in the world despite it, a safe place full of love and support and kindness. i'm so full of gratitude for the support you gave me here through everything. it was scary, and i felt so alone, and the little bits of encouragement from you all meant a lot to me. i'm alive. shit, i'm alive. i didn't expect to be. it's overwhelming to think about sometimes, but i lived. i'm here. and i'm really glad that i am, too. i don't know what to say really. it's a lot. there's a lot in there. i'm a teacher now. i work in the woods with the most wonderful
forged again
cw: depression/self injury (only in retrospect! i'm doing well!) im doing well. really well. it's been a year now since my last hospital stay. this day last year i would have still been inpatient. i haven't hurt myself since january of last year, but the scars remain. i have one on my neck now, where i apparently fought the hospital staff when they initially tried to insert the dialysis catheter. it scares me how little i remember of that night. im living on my own with my partner and working at a dog kennel. im dedicating a lot of time and energy to my swordplay, and feeling myself grow stronger from it. i haven't written anything of substance, but i've started, tentatively, to journal again in a gorgeous notebook my partner gave me. the voices are there, and frequently friendly, save for one. but i don't have to take her pain as mine. i can tell her no. i can tell her i'm sorry, and that i wish she didn't hurt so much, but her pain is not my own. but i feel that even she is
archers may collect their arrows
and i have collected a piece of myself, lost in the fog and neath the tall grasses i've revived the archer within me, and they are ever so grateful. teaching children this summer to shoot was a wonderful experience. i hadn't realized just how much i missed it. sense of power, of grace, of purpose and a place i hadn't been to in years; the archery range felt so natural for me. my range. for rules to be set my the standards i set, the respect i expect and the laws of love and life abide, aside the pierced targets. so at home, there. i missed writing, too. not that i did any this summer but sitting here and releasing with each outbreath is home, too. i may not have a house to call my own but i have these things i do and these loves and that's enough for right now. my dog will die soon, i think. i am preparing myself for that. just had an urge to check in with you all. link me to your latest works - i'm in dire need of reading content. be kind, &
don't let the happy days just pass you by
they're there, sometimes.
i've been absent, and not just from here.
i was in the hospital for a month total, back in february. following that was two months of intensive outpatient therapy, working thrice a week, and attending one, final class to graduate uni. which, somehow, i did.
the folks i worked with in those long months of daily treatment were truly a gift. my diagnoses of major depressive disorder, panic disorder, some variant of personality disorder (most likely schizotypal), ptsd, and ocd alongside body dysphoria was less overwhelming than i thought it might be, and coexisting with these things is somewhat odd. its how ive always
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