Daily Post 146: The Aftermath of Thanksgiving


I try to start my mornings with a cup of coffee, sitting on my doorstep in the shade of my apartment. It’s quiet. Most everyone is at work. The parking lot is mostly empty. There’s a fairly busy road running next to me, a few hundred feet away, so it’s not too close, but I’m able to hear the cars passing and I like to sit and think about all of the people going about their lives.

I wasn’t able to do that the past four days.

The past four days have been hard. Heavy. After doing small tasks I was exhausted. Thursday wasn’t hard until the evening. The darkness of night, the end of the day, signaling that there really wouldn’t be a phone call from mom. I slept most of Friday because the weight of reality was heavy. Heavier than normal. Different somehow than what it’s been though I don’t know   how to better describe it than that.

It’s not like anything has changed. But somehow it has. Inside my head, all of these days are different. In a way, they’re more real.

Saturday was a bit better, but I still took a nap and went to bed early. Sunday Warren and I went out to lunch. We sat outside because it was a nice day, still cool as far as Florida goes, but not cold. After eating we went to the park where I had spent time with Big Bad. We walked the loop a few times before sitting on a hill in the shade and talking.

I was still hurting from Thursday. I’m still fearing my birthday because I know, out of all of the days coming up, that day is going to be the hardest. Maybe out of all of them so far. Out of the six-month mark, out of mom’s birthday, out of flying to South Carolina with mom’s urn in my backpack, out of placing her urn on my kitchen table the night I received it from the funeral home…

Out of all of the hard days I have faced I am terrified of this one day and I know there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

It will come.

One of the things Warren let me talk about was how I get frustrated with myself. Still. How it’s hard to be patient and understanding. How it’s hard not to feel like the past four days have been regression.

I was doing so well. I genuinely felt happiness for a while, and now I’m back to not feeling it at all. I’m back to being flatlined. I’m proud of being awake, much less showered. I’m back to my “zero-fucks” mentality and wishing the rest of the world would figure its own shit out, which really, it has for the most part. Very few things have needed my attention the last four days and I think that’s helped.

I’ve had the ability to sleep and do nothing other than focus on recovery. I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for the space I have been given, intended or not. I feel it’s what I’ve needed and I haven’t had to fight to get it.

Warren mentioned something that I feel I lose sight of sometimes. If someone breaks their leg, you don’t tell them to “walk it off.” They aren’t weak for wanting painkillers or a cast to make sure the bone heals properly.

Just because my emotional wounds aren’t visible, doesn’t mean they’re not there. I can feel them, like slash marks from the outside of my elbow to the inside of my wrist, slowly bleeding me out.

It’s interesting actually. The pain of mom’s loss, my grief, used to feel like a taloned fist inside of my chest, squeezing my heart, trying to crush it. It made it hard to breathe, to think, to move. I didn’t understand how to do any of that with the pain in my chest consuming my mind. My heart didn’t understand how to beat against the pressure trying to destroy it.

Now, there’s just the feeling of slowly being drained. Like old wounds that have reopened and I now I must wait to heal again so the bleeding stops. If I don’t move as much, if I rest, then I won’t drain as fast. I have a better chance of being ok.

I wish I was better at resting. I wish I didn’t give myself shit for being hurt. And underneath all of that, there’s the wish that I wasn’t hurt in the first place. That I didn’t have to go through this. There’s the wish that things were different and that wish is the one that hurts the most. I’m supposed to be accepting my reality but on some level, I still rage and strain against it and so there’s pain.

There’s the thought that maybe I’m doing all of this to myself, but I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to keep that part of my brain from wishing for things to be different. Not yet at least.

The past days have been hard, but they’ve gotten progressively better.

This morning I did have my coffee. I sat outside and have already gotten a bit of sunlight. I have gone through and caught up on my emails. I have renewed my Vimeo subscription and taken care of some bill stuff I’ve been avoiding. I have jujitsu in a little bit that I want to go to, but I’m worried about. I don’t know who the instructor will be. I don’t know how many people will be there. I don’t know a lot of the moves still. I don’t know if emotionally I’ll be able to keep it together because I’ll have to take my ring and necklace off again.

But I want to go. I want to keep making myself better. I want to keep working through the things that are hard and that hurt so they hurt less. Like physical therapy. It hurts, but it’s worth it in the end, right?

I wish I knew. I think that would make a lot of this easier. If I knew that, in the end, it would be ok then I wouldn’t be so worried about everything. If I knew the things I’m doing now “paid off” in the end and that I eventually get to where I’m “supposed” to be then I wouldn’t fret about messing up or being a slacker. But I don’t know where that is. I don’t have any answers for myself. I don’t have any advice other than “do what you need to do for yourself.”

If only I knew what that really was. I feel like I’m back to haphazardly going through life, trying not to mess things up any more than they already are. Maybe that’s all I can do for now. Maybe I’m back to doing things one day at a time, one hour at a time until I make it through this next disaster of a storm. Until I make it through December.

I had two dreams the night before last.

In one of them I was looking for a mat to go with a cross stitch I was trying to frame. I couldn’t find one the right size which was a little frustrating, but that wasn’t the main point of the dream.

For whatever reason, I looked down at my phone and saw the message “No Service Available” on the screen. I had a sinking, cold, dread feeling in my stomach because I knew the message was because Zane had done something. I woke up feeling exposed and vulnerable. I wasn’t able to go back to sleep for a few hours.

I couldn’t figure out why the dream bothered me so much. I honestly don’t care about my phone. It’s a point of frustration, not dread, for me since I’m having to pay for not only mine but his as well.

I had the realization that maybe it’s not about the phone itself. Maybe it’s about what the phone represents, which is connection. Connection to my friends and family. To my support structure. When I need someone I call them, or message them through Facebook, or text message. I usually send those messages when I’m in bed, or hiding somewhere. I’m usually on my phone, so if I don’t have my phone, in theory, I don’t have a way to contact the people I want when I need them.

Maybe I feel like Zane will cut me off from the people I love and care about. Or some force in general will. It’s something to meditate on.

The other dream started out as me essentially seducing a cute blond girl. No one I’ve ever met. I didn’t see her face. It was a pretty hazy dream, fuzzy and unclear like I couldn’t get it in focus properly.

What I do remember is that I was standing behind her, my arms wrapped around her in a hug, her hands were resting on my forearms. We were just standing here, holding each other. My cheek was resting against her hair, eyes closed, enjoying the moment as we stood in our embrace. I had the thought that I hadn’t seen mom in a while, which was odd. Even with her working, I should have seen her at least once during the day. But it felt like it had been days, weeks, since I had seen her. Something wasn’t right with that, but I couldn’t place what it was.

My brows furrowed as I tried to figure out why I hadn’t seen mom in so long.

That’s when I remembered that mom was dead and that I wouldn’t see her ever again and that I was dreaming. Realizing it was a dream made me not want to be there anymore. The girl wasn’t real. None of it was real. I wanted to wake up and be part of my reality, even if it hurt, so I opened my eyes and woke up.

Zane’s dream bothered me more than mom’s.

I think today is going to be hard. I have a birthday thing to go to for Nicole, but I don’t think I’m going to stay very long.

I have a list of things I would like to do, but I’m not going to sweat over it if some / most of it doesn’t get done. I’ve already completed the time sensitive things so I think I’m doing ok. I’m staying afloat after this latest wave and still riding out the aftermath.

This is my reality , and in my reality I’m still recovering.


Musing Moment 099: A Few Words…


If you could, please take the time to listen to a few heartfelt words from me.


You’re all amazing. Thank you for being in my life.

Also… this counts as my prompt page because I’m efficient…

Yeah… efficient… we’ll go with  that.  >.>;

With Sincerest Love

~ Warrior Freya


Daily Post 145: Dealing with Sensitivities and Holy Shit Westworld


Yesterday’s post was a tired, beaten up post. At least that’s how my brain felt. Maybe it would have been better to just go to sleep instead of writing. At the same time, I think it was good to write about unpacking the chinaware. That was a pretty heavy experience and I’m glad I didn’t try to sleep with that weight in my mind.

Part of why I was up so late was because once I had gotten back from seeing Nicole I cooked the green curry so I could have something to eat. It came out really well and I was incredibly satisfied to have something with tons of veggies in it. Warren and I ate together in the living room and while we did he played an episode of Westworld.

Holy crap. After only one episode I’m hooked. We’ve watched two other episodes today. Soooo good. Soooooooo gooooood.

Since I watched an episode last night I basically missed out on an hour of my day. An hour I could have used to do my chores so I could get to sleep sooner. I really shouldn’t have stayed up as late as I did with as active as I had been all day. And I really, really should have had more water because I woke up this morning with a major headache.

Since I knew lack of sleep, lack of water, and a general lack of recovery and self-care was the cause of my headache I resolved to take today for myself. I drank half a bottle of water, took Advil, then went back to sleep. When I woke up again I had more water then showered since that was another major factor. I felt gross for not having showered the night before. I might have slept better if I had, but since I couldn’t go back into the past and do it, I opted for going with the option I could actually do.

Once showered and clean I was feeling way better. Still had a few headache cobwebs, but nothing close to the pain I had when I initially woke up. I went downstairs, had more water, made coffee, and had breakfast. Warren came downstairs shortly after I did.

We had a pretty… important?… conversation last night, though I’m not sure important is really the right word. So far I’m the only one who has spent money for tomorrow. Essentially I’m feeding Warren, Jon, and myself and, in my head at least, I’m the only one who’s going to be doing the cooking. And then the cleaning. So I was sort of miffed when I got a text message last night while with Nicole saying that vanilla ice cream would go great with the apple pie I had bought.

Irrational Brain Response: Then go buy the fucking ice cream yourself since I just dropped $60 on everything so far and I still have to go out and get other things.

Rational Brain Response: Do NOT send that message.

Ok… maybe miffed is downplaying it.

I want tomorrow to be a good day for everyone, including myself. At least as good as it can get with mom not being here and Warren being away from his family for the first time. I know tomorrow is going to suck for all three of us. I want to do what I can to lessen the pain since there’s no way to get rid of it.

I want to not feel used in the process of making it a bearable day, and the message asking for more stuff with no acknowledgment of everything I had already done, or would be doing didn’t sit well with me. In the past, I would have let these feelings fester, but instead of doing that we talked it out when I got home.

Warren understood where I was coming from and offered for part of the Thanksgiving expense to be put towards the money he owes me. That makes me feel better but at the same time, it’s like a broken record inside my head.

“I’ll pay you back.” Everyone always says that, and yet I’m still waiting for it to happen. I’m tired of hearing those words. I’m tired of money. I’m soul weary from it. And it’s not one individual person who is making this a sensitivity. It’s collectively everyone who has ever “borrowed” money from me.

It’s every time those words are said but actions don’t support them. It makes me not want to help anyone financially. It makes me feel like I’m a bitter, jaded person in this area of  my life because I don’t believe those words anymore. I don’t want to hear them. Ever.

Do or do not. There is no try.

I have no complaints about the living situation and am really just venting my general frustration. I know Warren and my brother aren’t doing this intentionally and a lot of it is my own hang ups and not letting go of the past. I actually think Jon would pay part of the cost if I asked him to, which I might do tomorrow.

And I know it’s eating away at Warren to be so set back from his breakup with Amber. I know this isn’t the situation he wants to be in, where he’s financially dependent on others. He wants to help and is actually normally the person providing for everyone else.

As far as Warren’s side of the situation, all I can do is wait and I’m not good at that. I feel like I need to step back and breathe and give the situation time. I wish it didn’t feel so hard to do.

Everything yesterday added up to be a long and emotionally trying day. I was glad for it to be over.

The only major thing I did today was finishing up the shopping. Warren went with me. The store was crazy so it was nice to not be alone for it.

Corey is going through his own emotional discord apparently. We were chatting through Facebook messages while I drank my coffee. I had offered last night for him to come over for Thanksgiving, even if it was only to eat food and then ditch, but he declined. He mentioned this morning needing some form of protein to go with the sides he had already bought, and the subject came up of how the store going to be crazy busy.

Long story short, I offered to pick him up a rotisserie chicken from Publix since I was going to be out anyway for the low, low price of buying lunch next time we hang out. He was cool with the arrangement, so once Warren and I were done with the store we stopped by Corey’s apartment to drop off his holiday dinner. As long as he covers it with foil it should heat up fine in the oven to provide a warm Thanksgiving meal.

Since I was still feeling worn out from yesterday I ordered a pizza to have food for lunch / dinner today, got a chili mocha frappuccino from Starbucks because I’m amazing and worth it, then went home and watched two more episodes of Westworld before playing through half of the Heart of Thorns expansion for Guild Wars 2.

Pretty slack day.

Right now I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I’m most likely going to watch more Westworld, and eat too much food, and play Guild Wars, and fight to breathe through the pain that will be there when I stop to let myself think about it.

I wonder how well I’ll be able to play Guild Wars drunk…

On that note, since I’m not overly tired yet, I’m going to log back in and play more.

Daily Post 144: Classes and Chinaware


Today has been all over the place and it’s past one in the morning so I’m ridiculously tired and I still have to shower so I’m not looking to get to sleep anytime soon, but I want to write, so here I am in front of the computer not adulting.

I went to three classes at the dojo today. Jujitsu at 6am, Muay Thai at 7pm. Then submission grappling at 8pm.

Today was the first day since I got the urn pendant that I had to take it off. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I didn’t question who I was or feel like a part of my soul was being ripped away. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, though. It’s like when I took mom’s ring off the first time when I started boxing. I knew I had to take it off or else her ring would get messed up. It still sucked because I didn’t want to be apart from it.

I turned taking her ring off into a bit of a ritual, like getting into the proper headspace before a game or performance. When the ring came off I was training. I was making myself better. I was taking it off to protect it.

I know I’ll get to that mentality with the necklace. It still sucked doing it, though. There were silent tears as I unclasped the hook and held the pendant in my hands since the first time I got it. The first times are always the hardest. Hopefully, that means it will be easier next time.

I most likely haven’t drunk enough water to make up for all of the sweat and tears today, because the pendant tears weren’t the only ones.

I unpacked mom’s china today when I got back from jujitsu. I didn’t inherit much from mom. Her ring. Her china hutch, which my grandfather made. And her china set.

I’ve left the china hutch wrapped in the furniture covers, tape across the doors, since I moved into the townhome. I knew it was something I would have to eventually get around to. I knew I would have to face those emotions at some point. I guess “eventually” was today.

It felt like I was pulling the tape off of myself. The sound of it coming free from the wood. The tension as I pulled it up. I could feel that ripping sensation across my heart.

By unpacking the hutch it became mine. Every cup, every plate became mine as I sat on the floor unwrapping it from the newspaper I had used while in Vegas. I cried. I cried so much.

It hurt, but it wasn’t anger or loss that made me cry. It’s happened a few times. Maybe more than I’m remembering. Sometimes I realize something, have some thought, make some connection, and I cry. It’s like I’m adjusting to the new information and it’s overwhelming, or powerful, or heavy, or whatever it is other than sad and angry. It’s so much of something that all I can do is cry.

I  cried until Warren came downstairs. He asked if I was ok. I said no, rubbing the tears away. I didn’t want to talk so we left it at that. He took Bruno outside then made his breakfast. I set the china in the hutch, displaying each plate the way I wanted it, detaching myself so the emotions could stay in check. Warren eventually went back upstairs. I set mom’s urn as the centerpiece.

I then curled up on the couch with the cardboard priority mail box she sent me for Christmas last year, the one I kept because I thought it would be my last gift from her, and I proceeded to cry more. Every card she ever sent me after I moved out is in that box. The book from her service, the one so many people signed is in there as well. The letter she left for me was there and maybe it’s because I’m an emotional masochist that I read it again. Maybe I needed to hear her voice in my head. Maybe I just needed a reminder that she loved me and things would be ok.

Whatever the reason I cried until I had nothing left to give.  I stayed on the couch with no intention to move for a  while.

My brother ended up calling me which is the only reason I got up. As soon as I answered the phone he asked what was wrong because of course he’s one of the few people who can instantly pick up on stuff like that. So much lame. >.<

I told him I had unpacked the china and that it had been hard. He asked if he needed to come be with me. I said no, that I would be ok. I had to be ok. It’s not like I have an option to not be.

We ironed out the last of the Thanksgiving plans, said our “I love you”s and hung up. Since I had walked up the stairs to my room while on the phone I decided that I had earned a nap due to emotional and physical tiredness. So I napped for about two hours. Bruno actually came  into my room and curled up with  me. I’m not normally one for dogs, but  having his company was nice.

Once I woke up I decided to continue working through the to-do list I had made, which unpacking the hutch had not been part of the game plan. Just want to toss that fact in…

I wanted to do errands before  going back to the dojo. I knew staying at home would just make me feel like a slacker. So instead of feeding into the sadness I loaded up my car and went to do errands. I donated more stuff. I did the Thanksgiving shopping, which was a nightmare of  people standing in the middle of the isle not getting out of the way. I also stopped by the storage unit to get my gi so I can wear it to the jujitsu classes.

I saw Nicole after going to the dojo. It was nice to see her. I told her about my day, and about how it had been hard. She told me about her own hard experience with wrapping Christmas gifts at her kitchen table, something she used to do with her own mom. Another mom who isn’t here anymore.

Other things happened during the day but I’m so tired right now that I don’t feel like writing more and that shower I know I should take most likely won’t happen until I wake up.

Right now I’m done. I don’t know what today was. It wasn’t bad. I don’t want to label it good either. It was long. Let’s go with that. Today was a long day, and now it’s over and I’m going to go to sleep.

Prompt Page 0015: Motivation


Prompt post from The Learning Network
to combat WordPress.

What motivates you?

Have you ever had a disappointment or setback that fueled later success?

Yes. Several times. I wouldn’t go as far as to say countless, but I feel like I’ve had my fair share of heartwrenching moments where I was faced with the feeling of “not being good enough” be it self-inflicted, work related, school related, or relationship related. I also feel like those moments in my life were defining moments for me. I had the choice to allow myself to feel defeated, to let something think it was better than me, or I could accept the blow to my ego and use it to improve myself.

Maybe it’s unhealthy but there’s usually anger involved. I’m angry that I didn’t reach my goal, or that I fell short of expectations. I’m angry that I didn’t get what I wanted essentially. Sort of childish when you think of it that way… but in my case at least, that’s the truth of it.

I have a choice of being sad or being angry and almost always I will choose anger and use that heat to drive my self-improvement.

Right Brained Me: Oh? You think I’m not good enough? I’ll show you. I’ll stomp you into the ground with my awesomeness.

Most of the time it’s myself who I disappoint. Rarely do I fall short of other people’s expectations. It’s my own expectations I feel I don’t reach. I’ve gotten a lot better about setting realistic expectations of myself, and even as I type that I’m reminded that I’m trying to do jujitsu every day in the mornings and then Muay Thai and belly dancing alternating in the evenings along with doing condition running for a 5k mud obstacle race in February and biking somewhere in there as well since I finally have a bike again…

Maybe I need to reevaluate how much I think I’ve improved on setting realistic expectations…

How common do you think it is to respond to failure not with discouragement but a renewed “I’ll show ’em” spirit?

Honestly, I don’t think it’s very common. I think a lot of people find it easier to give up and to move on to something else. Not many people know how to take critique. Doesn’t matter if it’s in regards to their work, a personal project, their life… No one likes to feel like they’re “not right” because in our society “not right” is automatically categorized as, “wrong” and, “wrong” is a bad thing.

Everyone, everything, can be improved. If I don’t reach a goal I was hoping for that’s because I need to improve. It doesn’t mean I’m bad. It doesn’t mean I’m a failure at life and that I’ll never reach whatever it is I want.

It most likely means I’ll have to adjust my timetable, which as a type-a personality will drive me bat-shit insane, but I don’t think a lot of people see it that way. It’s not a minor inconvenience. I think a lot of people see setbacks and such as personal insults or criticisms and so we become afraid to strive and reach. New things are scary and should be avoided. Stick to what you know so you don’t look foolish and run the risk of failure.

It disheartens me to hear of people giving up on something because it gets “hard”. If it’s hard that means it’s challenging you to be better. Stick with it. Nothing worth having is going to be inside your comfort zone.

What personality traits do you think help someone transform a negative experience to a powerful motivator?

Persistence, which may look a lot like stubbornness on the outside.

And at some point confidence. Confidence in yourself and your ability to eventually, at some point, get to where you want to be, and confidence that whatever you are hoping to achieve is worth it.

Like I said, anything worth having is going to be a struggle. It’s going to be hard. It’s going to take planning and dedication and often times sacrifice. You have to KNOW it’s worth it or you’ll falter.

You have to know that if you mess up that it’s ok. You have to put more weight in the act of trying rather than the act of succeeding.

I think a lot of people lack confidence, including myself. I think a lot of us let the evil voice of Self Doubt talk us out of a lot of the things we want in life.

Evil Voice: It’s too hard. It wouldn’t work out. What if we don’t make it? Then everyone will laugh at us and will never be able to show our face ever again.

If the words you’re listening to inside of your head cause you to hurt or make you feel bad, then it’s most likely not your true voice. It’s the evil voice trying to keep you down.

Fight it. Prove it wrong. Show yourself that you’re awesome. So what if it takes longer? So what if you’re not the best? You don’t have to be the best. It’s not about other people. It’s about you. As long as you’re better than you were then you’re improving, and if you’re improving then it’s just a matter of time before you get to where you want to be.

“Don’t give up and believe in yourself,” is pretty much what it comes down to.

Super simple sounding, right? It’s most likely something we’ve been told all throughout our childhood. I think we lose sight things like that, the simplicity of things, through all of the noise and chaos of life.

Let’s not forget that today. Let’s not give up and believe in ourselves. Deal? : 3


Daily Post 143: Sunday, Monday, and Belly Dancing


Sunday I woke up early. 7am.

I got up, determined to finally, seriously, go for a run. I had breakfast, drank my coffee, got dressed, then realized as soon as I stepped out my door that it was 50 degrees outside and that I live in Orlando  and in no way was it ok for it to be that cold. That’s not taking  into account the added wind chill… Cold. So cold. And did I mention the, “not ok” part?

I’m happy to report I didn’t back down from the challenge, though. I put on long sleeves, drove to one of the bike trails and ran, reminding myself that it’s not going to be any warmer in February when I run my race so I might as well suck it up now and get used to it.

It wasn’t my best run by any stretch of the imagination. But any run is better than no run, and I was actually surprised my time was as good as it was. I could tell my hamstrings were tight and my quads were still angry from the jujitsu class but there wasn’t any hint of shin splint pain. And I’m pretty confident that the tightness in my hamstrings won’t be as bad the more I run and stretch them back out. My later intervals, once I was finally able to get warm, were actually really nice so I do think it’s more just working the rust out of some spots.

Once my run was done I came back home and started tackling the weekend chores. I got a bunch done, but mainly I was waiting for Warren to get up so we could do the grocery shopping.

We had lunch at a Chinese buffet. We had tried going there the morning we picked my bike up but they weren’t open at 10am. Since our first attempt had been a bust we decided to give it another shot, which was successful.

It was an alright experience but I’ve noticed that I don’t eat much at places like that anymore. Just not a whole lot I’m interested in and I usually feel like I can make better-tasting things at home.The conversation was light and pleasant, and we weren’t too far away from the oriental market I wanted to go to, so overall it wasn’t bad.

We ended up going to three different stores: the oriental market, a fresh produce store, and then Publix. By the time we were done and back home I was running on fumes. It was nice to be in the kitchen on my own prepping the food and decompressing from being out and about so much. I needed the recharge since  I was supposed to meet Nicole for dinner.

It was fantastic to see her again. We had so much to catch up on since we haven’t seen each other in roughly three weeks. We parted ways around 9pm with plans to hang out again the following Monday since that’s when she will be celebrating her birthday.

I guess I really need to add birthday and Christmas present shopping to my list. I haven’t even begun to think about Christmas. I really don’t want to right now because I’m sure that will be all sorts of emotional hardship to work through so I’m going to keep typing away about everything else instead because procrastination is a thing. : D

I went to sleep pretty much right when I got home from dinner.

I woke up this morning at 7am again. I allowed myself to have a slow, lazy morning. I cooked eggs with spinach, mushroom, and onion mixed into them instead of doing the egg half sandwich I’ve been doing. I got a container of peach mango salsa at the store yesterday and it actually went amazingly well with everything.

I boiled eggs to mix into the tuna I planned to make later. I finished doing the laundry. I cleaned up the few dishes that were dirty… Not really a whole lot else happened until around 11:30am, which is when I got ready for my jujitsu class.

After how busy I felt things had been the previous day, and with how busy they were going to continue to be throughout the day, I didn’t feel bad about having a slack morning. It was actually really nice having my coffee in the empty living room listening to silence.

Jujitsu was fun. I met another instructor today. I learned the entry point for the back hook. I learned another choke, too. This class wasn’t as intense as the first one. Another thing I was ok with since I’m still sore. Pretty sure I already mentioned the soreness, but I also feel I need to mention it again because holy crap I haven’t been this sore since my first aikido class.

Totally non-related segway into a completely different topic…

Something that’s been itching in the back of my mind is belly dancing. I guess I didn’t get my ass kicked enough at the dojo today or maybe I need to be reminded on what the word “recovery” really means, since “doing an Internet search to find out when I can do more physically demanding things” seems to mean “recovery” to my brain.

Anyway, ever since I’ve moved to Orlando I’ve had to drive past a belly dancing studio on my way to the campus. I always thought it would be interesting to check it out. You know. See what it’s all about. Maybe have some fun with it.

While I was going to school I felt like I never had the time to go.  Then I was employed and with a constantly fluxing schedule I never got around to it, or other things had my attention, or I didn’t have  the financial means.

Now, I have both the time and the means to look into it, so I’m looking into it.

I looked up the times for beginner classes and decided I was going to go try it out. Now. Tonight. Today. Now or never sort of thing.

With that set in my mind, I went and had dinner with my brother. I got to meet his friend / boyfriend. I’m not really 100% sure what their relationship status is but he seems like a really nice person. We had great conversation while we ate and then played an extremely interesting Commander game for Magic the Gathering. Jon’s partner won the match, but I did pretty well and was happy that it was a fairly competitive match for all three of us rather than it feeling one-sided.

After dinner I went home, changed, then went to the belly dance class.

It was amazingly fun. There was only one other student there tonight. I guess with it being the holiday week most people are out of town. The dojo has been pretty empty as well. I don’t mind, though. It’s allowing me to figure out myself in the environments without the added pressure of a billion people who already know what they’re doing.

Going to the belly dancing class means I missed out on Muay Thai tonight, but I’m thinking I sort of like this arrangement. The beginner belly dance classes are Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. So I can alternate Muay Thai and belly dancing in the evenings which will give me enough of a difference that I won’t get bored with anything. At least, in theory, it seems like it will work.

In theory, I’m also apparently Wonder Woman and need no rest days… So… yeah… As nice as all of this seems like it will be inside of my head I’m not 100% sure if it will be within my range at the moment. I might end up doubling up jujitsu and muay thai and doing the belly dancing on its own as a recovery day. Not sure yet. I have options, though, so I’ll adjust as I need to.

I was supposed to see Big Bad tonight but we decided to rain check it instead. While I do want to see him I’m sort of glad we both agreed on canceling our plans. It was already sort of late so we wouldn’t have gotten much time together since he has to wake up for work. I want to go to a jujitsu class at 6am, which means I’m looking at being up around 5am because coffee…

Since it’s the holiday week he has a lot of social obligations, but we’re going to try to meet over the weekend at the park again.

I’ve made the  most of the  extra time I gained tonight. I been able to work through all of my daily chores, install Maya 2015 on my computer once again, and battle plan out  my day for tomorrow so I know what I want to get done and how to do it efficiently.

I’m also getting a chance to write my blog which is always nice and lets me have closure to my day.

I might write a prompt post depending on how involved it is. I also want to brush Scarlet a bit before tossing in the towel for today. But overall, I’m happy and content. Tomorrow is going to be busy. It’s also going to start early.

I’m looking forward to it.

Prompt Page 015: Personal Credo


I haven’t written a daily prompt post in so long… Not surprising the ones from WordPress still suck, which is sad.

No matter. I’m going to continue with the prompts from The Learning Network since those are pretty cool. Luckily for me, it seems I stopped writing prompt posts right when I reached the end of the “religious” section.

I think I’m going to work my way through the “personality” prompts. I feel that will aid me in finding myself in the wake of mom’s death, which is what this year of mourning is supposed to be; figuring out myself.

So, first prompt from the personality section…


What are your core beliefs?
What would you say is your personal credo?
How does that credo guide you in life?


I believe most people are inherently good. I believe everyone has potential. I believe grades do not measure intelligence and age is not an indicator of maturity.

I believe love is real. I believe emotional pain can be felt physically. I believe in being open-minded. I believe there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. I believe actions speak louder than words.

I believe everyone has an evil voice in their head which fills us with self-doubt. I believe it’s possible to overcome that evil voice. I believe every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.

I believe honesty is the best policy. I believe there are ways to be honest and not be a dick about it. I believe effort is more important than success. I believe failure can be a good thing.

I believe in being happy and singing along with the music I play in my car and driving with the windows down so I can feel the wind. I believe in playing outside in the rain and splashing in puddles. I believe in color pencils and glitter and paint and figures sticky with craft glue.

I believe in smiles and laughter. I believe in tears and sorrow.

I believe in running outside with the sunlight streaming down through the trees. I believe in sinking my toes into the sand on the beach and watching the waves crash against the shore. I believe in living my life for myself and not for the happiness or comfort of others.

I believe my mom is still with me. I believe she loves me and is proud of me. I believe in myself and my ability to figure out the situations I am faced with.

I believe I really will be ok.

I’m sure there are other things I believe in, like how the Earth is round and all that jazz, but I think that is a pretty good splatter art representation of what I believe.

My personal credo is:

“I realized one day that if my friends talked to me the way I talk to myself that they wouldn’t be my friends anymore. So I started being my friend.”

Often times I hold myself to unrealistic standards. I used to be extremely bad about trash talking myself inside of my head. My projects weren’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough. I would never be good enough.

Really depressing shit, that yeah, if anyone on the outside said those words to me their face would be happily acquainted with my fist, or a brick, or hot sauce in the eyeballs, or being locked in a dark room barefoot with legos strewn all over the ground because I’ll show you I’m not good enough.

Those words, “I started being my friend,” fundamentally changed my life. They changed my internal dialog from one of negative reinforcement to one of positive reinforcement.

I acknowledge my effort more than the success or failure of something. I’m more understanding with my emotions. I keep in mind that I’m human and I still make mistakes.

I don’t know… It just seemed to make a lot of sense when I stopped to think about it. I’m the only one trapped inside my head with myself. Every day, all day, 24/7. Instead of being a bitchy, shitty person to myself the entire time, why not be a nice, caring person so I don’t hate  myself? I’m nice to everyone else. Why shouldn’t I be nice to me?

The evil voice is still there. It still tries to talk shit, and sometimes I still listen to it for a little while. But compared to where I was at when I was 16, or 21, or even just seven months ago, I feel like I’ve come a long way and I’m proud of my progress and growth as a person.