Time Does Fly!

Oh, who am I kidding? Aging is the slowest thing in the universe. But when another year has finally passed, it can certainly seem short.

Today is my 22nd birthday! I have been getting birthday wishes since midnight, mostly from Tumblr, but I’ve gotten ones from family, friends, and my boyfriend. I also got a few gifts and the day in general was pleasant.

I also learned something today. “Birthday” is not necessarily an easy word to spell.

What the whozits is a “bartlay”?

To My Younger Self

Every so often when I browse Facebook or Tumblr, I see a post that goes along of the lines of “If you could go back in time, what would you tell your younger self?”

I think if I went back in time to meet my younger self, even by as few as three years or so, she’d slap me back into my current age. I wouldn’t blame her. As little as one year ago, if someone told me I’d be doing the things I do now, I would’ve assumed they were out of their minds.

However, when I see that question, it’s myself as a child I think of. I usually picture myself back around age 7 or 10. There are a lot of things I would go back and tell my child self because I very much needed to hear them, but no one ever told me. Hearing them probably wouldn’t have made life back then any easier, but in the moments I needed it, it probably would’ve helped. Had I any artistic skill, I’d create a comic about it.

I want to keep this list fairly short, so I’ll stick to what I think are the most important things.

  • You’re going to be happy to be alive. The very first time I thought about suicide, I was ten years old. Before that, my thoughts were often of running away from home and not returning. When things got especially bad and I was crying myself to sleep, I’d spent the time until I finally wore out hoping someone would break into my house and snatch me away. If I could go back and speak to my child self, I’d tell her she’ll be happy those thoughts were never a reality. She probably wouldn’t believe me and, again, I wouldn’t blame her. But I’d still say it.
  • Love does not hurt. Well, not the way I learned it did as a child. To be totally honest, this is something I’m struggling with as an adult. I prefer to just be grateful and not dwell, but in the back of mind, I question why someone loves me or why they care to help me or why they want to know me. This is something I’d probably say over and over to my child self until I was certain she understood. No, your loved ones are not supposed to hurt you and no, being family does not justify them doing so.
  • You’re the cutest child ever, but that’s not what matters. No, I don’t think I was the cutest child ever when I took back at my childhood pictures, but “ugly” was the most common insult I heard growing up. It wasn’t only by the school bullies. My family’s vanity and obsession with looks also pushed me to believe I looked horrid when, in actuality, nothing was wrong with me. I spent my entire childhood hating how I look because I believed my looks weren’t good enough and that was all anyone cared about. I would tell my child self she is an adorable person, but it’s not the most important thing about her and most people really don’t care.
  • Friendships aren’t like the cartoons. I’m certain this one speaks for itself. I had trouble keeping friends because of how often I moved and my mother didn’t like friends visiting or letting me visit them. I would tell her it’s not completely abnormal and she’ll not only find her own friends in due time, but learn who’s a friend and who’s not.
  • 2010 will be the worst year of your life. As awful as it sounds, I’d tell her this as a warning. 2010 is the year everything began to crash and burn. My life was ripped apart from the inside out and this is the year my suicidal emotions were at their worst. The only thing that kept me from acting on those emotion was the cowardice to cause myself pain, and I regularly kicked myself for that. I’d tell her she, unfortunately, doesn’t have a choice and she’ll get through, but it’s going to be painful. Very painful.
  • Your family will fall apart, but you won’t. This is the final one and arguably the most important after love doesn’t hurt. My family indeed has fallen apart. It’s ripped up more than I could’ve ever imagined as a kid. I’d tell my child self this is going to happen and she can’t stop it, but it’s not her job to stop it in the first place. I won’t lie and pretend it doesn’t hurt. It hurts a lot! However, what hurts more is when you’re trying as hard as you can to keep it together and your efforts are failing. I’d tell her she’s not a failure for being unable to hold her family together and it really is alright for her to worry about keeping herself together first and foremost. I’d tell her it’s their choices and their actions that are making them fall apart, and she’s not at fault for what they do.

At That Age

In 27 days, counting this one since it’s only barely after midnight, I will be 22 years old. For me, that realization is rather surreal.

My birthday is before my mother’s, but had it not been, she would’ve been 22 when she had me. I was not a planned child either and, like me, she had no intentions of becoming a parent. She only did it because she believed abortion was wrong and adoption wasn’t something she could handle (although neither was parenting; go figure).

This is something I continuously think about as my twenty-second birthday draws near, but I’m really not sure why. I knew I wasn’t going to have children at this age. Really, even if I wanted to be a parent, I wouldn’t have tried to become one by 22 because I’m in no position for it. It’s not something that’s bothering me. Just something continuously on my mind for one reason or another.

The best guess I have as to why I’ve been thinking about this so much is knowing this is the age where my mother’s life changed irreversibly. Becoming a parent doesn’t change everybody – heck, it makes them worse in some cases – but I’m certain no one can argue becoming a parent isn’t something you can take back. You can’t put them back up there. Okay, you probably could, but it’d be extremely painful and you certainly can’t reverse the nine months of pregnancy back into non-existence.

Occasionally, I do try to imagine myself in my mom’s shoes when she was 21 or 22, and it’s not an easy visual. I like children in general, so I can imagine the cute stuff like watching a baby sleep, but trying to picture the hard stuff tends to only make my head hurt. I can never picture myself waking up three times or more a night to a piercing wail, going days without sleep, or not having enough time to do so much as take a 5-minute shower. One of the most common things I hear about parenting is “your life is over” and that is more often than not from people who are parents instead of people who aren’t. My life over at 22? I’d have only been an adult for four years!

Yes, I’m aware babyhood is temporary. Eventually, they sleep through the night, gain a little more independence, and stop crying so much. Well, maybe not that last one since the temper tantrums start, but they hopefully won’t be waking you up five times a night until they’re in kindergarten. However, on its own, a year is still a lot of time and frankly, I’ve no desire to spend a year getting sleep three days at a time. I nearly collapsed after one day (a full 24 hours) without sleep, not to mention that can’t in any way be good for your body.

Sure, my mother did it, but she didn’t have a choice. She decided to keep me and have another child, so she had to endure the sleeplessness and all the stress caring for a tiny, helpless person brings. Failure to do that would’ve resulted in either our deaths or her loss of custody before we became old enough to know she’s our mother.

Speaking of another child, I imagine this feeling will come back twice as strong when I turn 25. At 25, my mother had a three-year-old and a 1-week-old. Admittedly, I can’t see myself at 25 right now. It’s difficult to see myself any more than a year older than my age. I want this blog to be around for a few more years, so if it lasts until 2019, I feel like a certain shock will hit me if I go into my archives that year and find this post.

Goodbye, Winx…

Aside from a mere mention of it in some previous posts, I don’t think I’ve ever talked about Winx Club on this blog. Well, I’m finally going to do that. As you might guess from the title, however, it’s not happy. In fact, I’m full of rage right now and trying to show an extreme amount of restraint because if I wrote what’s on my mind exactly verbatim, this post would be 75% cursing at minimum. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to maintain that restraint, but I will try.

I lost interest in Winx Club sometime around late 2015. I’d guess about September. I tried to stay interested in it, but the few things I liked about the later seasons (season 5 and onward) weren’t enough to hold my interest. So, of course, it just slipped away and I was no longer enthralled with Winx Club as I used to be. However, I did not, by any means, hate the show. I still followed it to see if things got any better.

Not only did things not get better, they got worse, but not within the show. As of last night, I can sincerely say I do hate the show and I hate its fandom even more. The fandom has lately begun to take issue with anyone who isn’t so fond of the later seasons, to the point of undermining their opinions and condescendingly deciding anyone who prefers the older seasons “doesn’t like change”. That’s not why I hate it. The reasons for my anger and now-hatred of it is one of  them decided to make false accusations toward and create lies about me because they didn’t like to response to something they’d replied.

I have zero problems with people disagreeing with me. I expect that and if that’s all that’d happened, it would’ve been the end. But that’s not all that happened. This person lied and said I sent hate into their inbox when I’d never visited their blog prior to replying to that particular post. They also accused me of submitted the confession that was posted on, which, again I did not do. They also accused me of blacklisting a subject after they’d posted about it causing biased in the fandom. Again, not something I did. Rather than stopping at disagreeing with me and leaving it be, they decide to make up lies and false accusations about me for no other reason (presumably) than not liking what I had to say. I didn’t like what they had to say either, yet funnily enough, I didn’t deem it at all appropriate to falsely accuse them of things and spread lies about them.

Even if I did still like Winx Club, I would not anything to do with a fandom that finds it appropriate to make up lies about others on a whim. For all the show’s flaws, past and present, the fandom and community are 100 times worse and I’m ashamed of myself for ever being a part of it. I do have a few friends in the fandom I’ve made and kept, despite my fallen interest in the show, so I can’t say I hate the entire fandom. But excluding those friends, I do hate the fandom and I never again want to take any part of it. If somehow, I regain my interest in Winx Club and it becomes my favorite show again, I will still refuse to be part of that fandom for the simple fact it was deemed okay to falsely accuse me of things I didn’t do and lie about me. If that’s how they handle when they’re disagreed with, the fandom can kick rocks for all I care.

For the record, I’m not going to deny my own aggression. When I wrote the first response, I was irritated, so I know it was aggressive. But nowhere did I make up lies about someone or falsely accuse them of things they didn’t.

I will let you read the post for yourselves and you can decide who did what to who. Clicking the image will take you to my second response to this.

(Blue is me; Red is the liar)

Goodbye, Winx Club. Goodbye forever.

Digitization

It goes without saying the world is moving more and more towards being digital. Video games, books, movies, even TV services can all be purchased and used online. Whenever I’d hear adults talking about technology “taking over”, I’ll roll my eyes and think they were stuck in the past, but I feel like I’m beginning to understand why they feel that way.

Someday, there will be no more libraries, no more video game stores, and no more DVDs on the shelves. All those businesses will eventually close because everything they sell will be purchasable online and companies will stop producing physical copies. Writing will become an ancient skill because everyone will type. Some schools have already stopped teaching children penmanship. Personally, I can’t imagine not knowing how to write and it’s a skill I never want to lose, but I understand why handwriting is becoming viewed as a needless skill now. By the time I was in high school, I didn’t have a single teacher who would accept handwritten homework assignments. If you didn’t type it out, you automatically failed, even if the work itself was satisfactory.

I’m well aware digital is more environmentally friendly above all, but knowing what will eventually happen to pastimes like writing and visiting the library depresses me. When I purchase a digital copy of something, I don’t feel like I own it because it’s not in my possession. I have three full shelves of books. I can easily look at them and say they’re mine. But a digital book? Whose is that? Yes, I paid for it, but I don’t have it. The company I bought it from has it. I don’t have any control over what happens to it. The only way someone can steal the physical books I have is by breaking into my home and taking them by force. And even then, it’s unlikely all of them would be stolen, as the shelf is too heavy to be carried safely anywhere while it’s full.

But how would I be protected against having my digital books stolen, if I bought any? Or what if the company pulls the books from their site or end up going out of business? I lose all of my books and I don’t get my money back. Thus, I’d have to buy the entire collection again rather than just the few I lost.

Progress can’t be stopped, so it’s not like I’m attempting to fight against it. I like technology very much. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a computer or any consoles or a cell phone. I’m far from a technophobe. At the same time, I don’t want technology to take over everything. I want to still read at library, shop for games and DVDs at the store, and buy pens and pencils to write in my diary. Yes, I understand these are sentimental reasons, but there are also sentimental reasons for going digital. Not having to leave your home, not having to use up space, and so on. For people who prefer that, the world going digital probably borders on feeling like a gift from the heavens.

I also wonder how far it’s going to go. I feel like it won’t stop at digital libraries and typing instead of handwriting. I’ve read that my generation is the last that regularly played outside. Now, I do still see children playing outside, but not often and not many. I used to find the idea ludicrous, but now I truly believe it’s possible technology will someday allow people to never need to leave their homes. That someday, playgrounds and parks will be torn down due to abandonment and games like tag and hide & seek will become unheard of because all children will know are digital games. I hope so much I’m wrong, but it’s no longer far-fetched for me. I can picture it happening.

I realize I’m probably being a hypocrite in coming out with all of this. I used to say people who hate technology were stuck in the past and yet, I now sound like I’m stuck in the past. I don’t hate technology, but the feeling is the same. Everything will eventually be digitized and I’m going to miss times before that occurred. As dramatic as it may sound, I almost hope I don’t live enough to see that. Technology is amazing and I don’t want to live without it, but I also don’t want live without handwriting and hard copies of books, games, and shows. Progress isn’t leaving anyone a choice, however, so for those like me who aren’t so enthusiastic, we can only suck it up and hope for the best, whatever that could be.

I Should’ve Been Quiet

This isn’t something that happened recently, but it’s something I regret to this day.

This incident was the very first of all the troubles I ever experienced with my family between both sides and while it’s possible some of them still may have happened, I feel if this particular one hadn’t, my family would’ve been a little less hectic for a few more years.

It happened in late 2006, nearly ten years ago. Besides browsing my computer, I can’t remember what else was going on. I may have had a cell phone at the time and had it with me, but I’m not certain if I was using it. I wanted to check my email and I had a message from my father. Email was how we spoke to each other at that time, so messages from were expected. The difference that time was he sent me a picture of my mom he had. Continue reading

Stupidly Optimistic

I haven’t been feeling well over the past few days.

I’ve been going over some of my previous posts on this blog, and some of my old stories and art on my story blog and DA account. I don’t draw anymore and I write very little. It wasn’t a conscious choice to give it up. I just began slowing down and eventually stopped doing it. Although it’s a conscious choice now since I realized that.

Some of the posts I’ve written here make me embarrassed when I go back and read them. There’s a post from January 2015 I read over where I’m pretty much confident and optimistic about the year regarding art. Now that it’s 2016, I want to go back in time and choke myself like the moron I was at the time to be writing that.

There’s a question that goes “What would you do if you knew you wouldn’t fail?” My answer to that question is many things. But that’s not reality, so it’s a silly question. My first failure/mistake was thinking I could draw or write anything good in the first place. And no, “everyone learns at their own pace” doesn’t help me feel better. That just tells me I’m slow.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself or my life. I do know art won’t be a part of it. Looking over the pictures and stories I made in the past makes me somewhat nostalgic and wish I could go back to those times when I enjoyed it. The truth is it’s not fun anymore. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere down the line, drawing and writing lost their charm, especially the former. I don’t plan things to write anymore. I just write whatever comes to mind. Perhaps the loss of interest is the consequence for becoming interested in drawing for a poor reason to begin with (wanting to make fan art).

Everyone can’t be the best, but some people aren’t best at anything. Likewise, no one can be good at everything, but some people aren’t good at anything. If I could go back to 2010 (which was a bad year to begin with due to family drama), I’d never pick up a pencil to do anything except write a school assignment.

My only problem regarding art now is what to do with my sketchbooks. One is already full, but the second is only half-full and the third is completely empty. I suppose I could toss them out, but I’d hate to waste so much paper.

I’m going to end this post with a post from Whisper and my relation to it.

Story of my life. One of the biggest lies I was told as a kid is “It’ll be okay.” No, it won’t. It will not be okay.