Love and Loathing in Gallifrey

I am currently experiencing a unique crisis.


I feel that popular culture is an excellent mirror inwards to yourself, or can be if done well. In particular the things you’ve left unaccomplished.

You see: When I was a teenager I wanted to become an actress. I think a lot of kids did, it’s the in thing to do. As an adult I can see that my extreme social anxiety and lack of motivation to try harder would have been great stumbling blocks. Also, I’m a rubbish actress. I could have gotten better, but my parents wanted something else for me, and well… Who doesn’t want to please their parents?  Probably quite a few teenagers. I am the real world equivalent of “failure to launch” and I feel as though I am the latest of bloomers (which sounds odd). I am married, I have two wonderful kids


But, I don’t love me.

I have been feeling a discontentment rising within myself lately. I have this continuous loop of disapproval running through my head. That I’m broken, I’m weird, I’m a freak, that I should be ashamed. I’m not sure where all the negativity comes from. My parents were good parents, they love(d, now and then) me. I am the apple of their eye, and as my dad always says, his favorite daughter. Which is really easy when I”m the only one.

I have big dreams. I keep them locked and hidden away. I want to travel, I want to make something great, I want to be great, I want people to know who I am and I just want to stand out from the crowd a little. I don’t want to be the imaginary friend anymore. Which is what I call myself at work because despite being a trainer, and the first person that everyone in my department goes through to get hired, I am easily forgotten. I am desperately lonely.

I have been watching Doctor Who lately. It inspires me to think about my goals. How awesome would it be to write for TV? How awesome would it be to have someone read what I write, Period. Having someone read what I write and like it, it’s the ultimate high, for me anyway, the mormon girl who gets sick from taking too many tylenol.
(Sukie I promised less sadsack I know, but I can’t help how I’m feeling)

A friend of mine has a friend who used to write for Doctor Who. Which is amazing. I lack the confidence to even try writing much of anything. And as sad as it is, I admire Stephenie Meyer still because even though her writing isn’t like War and Peace or anything, I admire her for carving out time in her life for herself to accomplish something. I don’t feel like I deserve it. I think If I could find out why I hate myself so much it’d be the key to everything.


I’m the person who restarts her tetris game if one piece is out of place, I trash it and start over. It’s not perfect, and so it’s useless. Maybe that’s it. I’m not perfect, so I’m useless. What a horrible train of thought. Maybe I have a hard time remembering that God Loves me still or something. Or maybe it doesn’t matter who else in the flippin’ Universe does, because If I can’t find something awesome to love about me, it doesn’t really matter who else does.

Another friend of mine recently visited. She lives in Washington, which I still find more glamorous than my life. We were going to meet up. I thought about it a lot. and I just felt like “My house isn’t clean, and I’m up like 70+lbs since she saw me last, I think I’d rather die.” which once again, isn’t a great way to think. How much of my life am I going to let pass me by because I’m not perfect? Why am I so afraid to fail. Who is going to be mad at me? I will I suppose and that’s bad enough.

When I was in high school, I had a really great friend who asked me what I was doing after high school, and I said that I’d probably get married (I had no prospects of such in sight, despite having a VERY non-serious dating relationship with a guy.) and she was disappointing me in me for not wanting more for myself.  Maybe that’s just it. I’ll live a half life. A life full of mistakes and disappointments, for not taking what I could get. I had a teacher in college who thought all of my stuff should be prose, but I’m crap at prose (was and still am) I’m better at vignette’s for the imagery. Why can’t i ask myself to do more, go outside of the box, and dig deep and give MORE.

I’m a compare-r. I compare a lot. To the people around me, the people my age. What have I done with my life?
Maybe I’m thinking about it too hard. Maybe not hard enough. I just want people to remember me.

Derringer Meryl [Help] Out



Sometimes comes up and kicks my booty. I’m going to try and keep this real without getting sad-sacky.


it’s pretty exhausting through. Fighting through the depression. I don’t think it’s wrong on occasion to give in. and just lay around the house and do nothing. As long as I don’t wallow. I don’t have much time to wallow. So usually it’s two days of  “Don’t even ask me to be socially appropriate/touch anything/get dressed” and then I have to pull myself together and go back to work. I think people without depression get this too. Just a weekend to veg. to me, it’s vitally important so I don’t unravel and become BAT SHIT CRAZY.  Which happens sometimes. You know. Craziness.


I try to not flip out.  I’m pretty good now days. I just need time alone.


I do want to start on my quilt. I am consistantly thinking “Maybe today” and then get too tired. But maybe today is the day.


Here’s hoping.

Derringer Meryl [You can’t get me down] out

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On My Mind

and in my heart.

Mostly I feel like writing this out because saying it aloud to people feels petty and stupid. But it churns through my mind as I complete mindless tasks (like the painting I did today. It looks fab BTW) all i can focus on is the things I dont’ have. This isn’t… healthy to say the least. I try to remind myself (as I learned from Veggie Tales) that a thankful heart is a happy heart and envy just breeds depression. That’s the last thing I need. REALLY.



I don’t feel UNHAPPY per say with where my life is. I like my job, even though it stresses me out. Frequently. But I enjoy what I do even though there is little return on my investment of time (IMO). It’s fulfilling to know that half of the department I train in was trained by me. I love coming home too, everyone is so excited to see me. I suppose that would go away, should I ever become a stay at home mom like I want.

It’d be something rough to give up– but I would love to … so I think I could give up the mommy excitement for 10 minutes before screaming ensued. I know the grass is always greener crap. But the idea of not having to stay up to all hours of the night to do laundry/talk with my husband because it’s the only time we have together… that sounds nice to me.

Something else that’s difficult for me. This is an issue I’ve been secretly skirting for a while now. It’s really hard for me. REALLY.

I would L-O-V-E to be pregnant right now. There is one thing I learned from having a miscarriage it is you never ask someone when they’re having a kid. You don’t know what personal struggles their going through. Why they aren’t. So if you’re not close, don’t ask. I always act like the idea is… abhorrent to me, because it has to be. I want to stay at home when I’m pregnant next. NOT TO MENTION the fact that 3 kids and one husband staying at home all day when he needs to sleep is … just a REALLY bad idea. So I am working, every day, toward the goal of staying home. I want to stay home. I want to have another baby (my last) while staying home.


Please don’t ask me how long away that is. Please don’t. It hurts to say we won’t be expecting for a year and a half. It hurts to think we’re going to have to wait that long. Audrey will be 4 nearly 5 by then. It’s like starting all over. I don’t know what to do with that. It makes me pretty flipping depressed. So I try not to think about it. But with like 20 people around me pregnant (That’s a small exaggeration.) it’s all I can think about. that I want to be where they are. it’s hard for me to listen to them complain, when I want to join in with them. I want to have a baby.  But what can you do when it’s just not a good idea.


Derringer Meryl [secret secret] Out

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Stuff to do

Doesn’t it seem like theres always stuff to do!?

I have been trying to wean myself off my antidepressants. I hate taking pills, and it just seems like they are hard to keep up with.

My car is being stupid and broken. Which is frustrating. I am not enjoying having to have scott drive me to work. And then kate got foot and mouth and now I have sores in my mouth too!  It is no fun. I hope I didnt get anyone sick, but I never had a fever… So it’s hard to tell when I was contagious.

Scott’s Yoshi quilt is on my quilt frame. I just have to find energy and time to finish it. Blerg. So. Then I have a robot quilt to finish too.

Oh! If you find some nice cheap high quality flat sheets, I want to hand quilt a twin quilt for kate with bender on it!

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The wedding toast I would have gave

Let me preface by saying that there wouldn’t have been a wedding toast had my foot NOT been sliced open by my traitorous daughter and her tantrum because her glass was empty. But, here are a few things I wanted to say.

I have been lucky enough to have my best friend in the whole world (who I am not married to) living with me for over a year and a half. Drama Queen has been there for me and helped me through a really hard pregnancy, though some of the worst times of my life, to help me to remember, that it would be ok. That things would be ok. That I could make it through it. She has stayed up late and listened to me complain, taken care of my children like there were her own, given me the gift of her time. I know that it was hard for DQ to wait, for her mister right. That time was a blessing for me. I hope her family can forgive me for stealing her away. It means more to me than I could ever say. I am so happy for her. I want her to have all the happiness in the world, and I know that she’s found it with TT. I know she’ll be happy with him forever. I would not change a single thing about the time DQ spent with us. I appreciate and love her. I wish all the best for her. She is like the sister I never had, and I am glad she’s found her happily ever after.


It’s all true. My house feels a little sadly empty and it seems like someone is missing. I have been gaining weight like there is no tomorrow. I’m not sure why. Other than the fact that my foot 1) still aches from the cut. odd, yes! and 2) has this huge disgusting wart on the bottom that prevents me from running as I’d like. I need to cut back, and drink water and get active. I’m like 2 pounds away from perma muumuu status. Seriously. I gotta get things together! first and foremost get this thing off my foot. I actually ENJOY running now, so I gotta get rid of the thing on my foot so I can run again. I like to do it barefoot, or with socks on, which usually makes real runners go “NOOOOOOOOOO! DONT DO IT!!” because it’s some sort of bad for you. But all I can think is “well we did it for millions of years prior to nike being invented, and we survived, so I’m sure I’ll be fine running on my treadmill with just socks on.”

Things feel different now days. Not good, not bad, just a weird uncomfortable different. I feel like a lost satellite floating in space. Untethered. It’s an odd feeling. Like I don’t belong anywhere in particular. It may just be my medicine being off kilter, because nothing makes me feel more grounded than my kids, and I don’t mean that in a bad way, not at all. I just look into their faces when i come home from work, and i’m just stunned. Stunned that someone could love me so unyeildingly. without exception. Sure Katie gets mad at me sometimes, and huffs about how I told her to clean her toys up… but she loves me. No matter what. I think I may go work out now….

People say things like they’re giving up something for their kids, or they’re doing it for their kids, when really they should do it for themselves… Why can’t we do that? why can’t I find the motivation inside of myself to do something for myself. I have felt a lot of guilt about my weight. Both now and in the past. I think now, I look at myself in the mirror and all I can think is “I don’t want them to be ashamed of me.” But the truth is, when was I ever ashamed of my mother? Never. She was always… withdrawn and down on herself enough (No offense mom, but you did talk bad about your looks a lot!) I try to love myself inspite of my curves. I try to find something I love anyway. When I started this year, in Feb, i was at my lowest weight that I’d been at in 5 years. I am now at the highest weight I’ve ever been at, well at least when not expecting. I don’t hate myself for my weight gain. I am disappointed. I know I could do better. I know I’m letting my emotions and my chemical imbalance RULE my body. I have to take care of myself NOW or It’s going to be MUCH harder to take care of later.

Ok really now. Off to find 1) an inspiration piece, and then 2) to make my wii work 😀

Derringer Meryl [give a little whoo whoo] Out

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