Mighty Morphin’ Puffy Ranger

PuffyRangerSo the last couple of entries have been a total downer. Just when I thought I would finally be able to blog about something that doesn’t revolve around my Nightmare Syndrome, my suicide attempt, every little “Woe is Me” tale, and general disdain for the world I got blindsided by circumstances that threw me off balance completely.

This past summer semester didn’t turn out like I hoped it would. When things kicked off the worse thing I had to worry about was paying my rent and power bill. Then it was a matter of playing the waiting game for my financial aid to kick in while rationing what little funds and food I had. Other than that I had a plan for everything else.

I would stay on my medication, continue my counseling, and show my professors what I’m capable of when I’m depression-free. The Universe had other plans in mind for me. This entire month has been nothing but “Make Me or Break Me”.

After the ordeal with Nasty Nate I felt very broken. Then Stalker Boy showed up and made me flashback to it. I honestly don’t know where I’m progressing with the aftermath of it all. If I didn’t have trust issues before I sure as hell do now. There is still that apprehension that’s present in me. Like what if the next guy that glances in my general direction is another predatory prick? Are my symptoms going to act up every time someone calls me cute? This is me maximizing things. My last counseling session proved this. Remember when I thought I had PTSD? Well, I don’t. So again I maximized things. It’s always been one of my more common cognitive distortions. Mountain, molehill……classic me. Yup!

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Finally my financial worries will come to an end. Nothing is processing because all systems are frozen until Monday. So it’s just a matter of braving through this weekend. I’ve already stocked up on food that I can easily ration until then. When that refund kicks in though I am SO treating myself to sushi. Some retail therapy too is also in order.

I am happy to say that despite all that life has thrown my way this semester that I’m still standing. I got a bunch of good news yesterday on my academic situation. The odds are back in my favor now. My inner demons are getting weaker again. I’ve got my situation handled. I know that things will turn out all right in the end. I just need to do my part and give it everything that I got. But first, I need to take the time to recover from everything that’s happened. That’s the goal for this weekend.

I’ve managed to overcome my most recent challenges. But I didn’t do it on my own strength. There’s no way I would’ve been able to handle it on my own if I had kept quiet about everything. Otherwise I’d be repeating the same negative behavior that I’m trying to do away with.

So how has this month “Made Me” and not “Break Me”?

I’ve made a lot of great friends. Talking to them has been good for me. Making them laugh and being able to laugh with them has been healing for me. I haven’t known them for very long but I know that they got my back. They’ve pretty much restored my faith in humanity.

I don’t seem to have anything that’s blocking my creativity anymore. My mind is brimming with all kinds of ideas. I can practically see the words that can paint the imagery. I don’t run and hide from anything like I used to. Even when I’m in my own world and working on my fictional work I have no problems with coming back to reality.

I’ve learned that I am, in fact, funny. I am beautiful. I am strong enough to overcome whatever comes my way. Nothing is impossible for me like I had originally perceived. It’s the most magical feeling ever.  I’m not alone in anything anymore and I know I can place trust in people to help me whenever I need it.

I’m getting back in control of everything. I am regaining my power that I feared losing to my circumstances. Parts of myself that I thought were dead or dying are back in full force.

One of my newest friends goes by the nickname Phoenix and has his own guild that are named after the X-Men. I imagine that they’re a very close group of friends. My friend most definitely lives up to his Phoenix moniker. So I’m kinda following his example.

My whacky writer brain started acting up. I’ve taken the best of my major fandoms and put them together, Power Rangers and Harry Potter. I am a member of House Hufflepuff. Embracing the mindset of the Hufflepuff has been a huge help in my recovery. It’s helped me become more social and positive. It’s rewiring my brain for the better.

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Of course there are haters out there. The ones that say that Hufflepuffs are the weak ones, not up to battle like all the other houses, or whatever. Some will even say Hufflepuffs are so derpy compared to their own glorious Hogwarts House.

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I know that’s not the case, but I figured by putting the fandoms together in my brain to make a new “persona” (for lack of a better word) that it would give it a bigger edge.

I took a lot of hits this semester, but I also managed to hit back. My Nightmares were coming back to haunt me, but I was able to slay every last one of them. I was able to keep going forward with my recovery and did what needed to be done because like the Power Rangers I never gave up on the fight even when my mind was screaming at me, “They are all against you,” or “This is the end”.  What can I say other than…..I’m Hufflepuff and mighty damn tough!!

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Hence the title of this entry. I’m the Hufflepuff Ranger. Puffy for short. With my creativity, my new friends, and all the new tricks I’ve learned I never have to be afraid of any challenges that come at me or any Nightmares trying to end me. Because I will always be ready to fight back and win.

This is PenSwordAM aka The Hufflepuff Ranger signing out.

Have a lovely day everyone.

P.S.

It’s morphin’ time!!! (I’m gonna need to wear a lot more yellow from now on…..)

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The Hits Keep Coming.

So breaking news….I was a complete emotional wreck yesterday. My anxieties were spiking up again. It was worse than what happened earlier in the week. The only  difference this time around is that I made use of the cognitive tools I picked up in therapy.

My personal favorite I’d like to share is the acronym, CALM. You’re supposed to go through each letter like it’s a step.

Curiosity: Why am I feeling this way?

Acceptance: Accept what it is your experiencing and let it process. Denial only feeds your inner demons.

Love: Showing yourself self-love. What would you say to someone else that’s in your situation? Tell it to yourself.

Motivation: The experience is over. There are no take backs. What can you do next? How do you move on?

I met this one guy the other day. He seemed nice enough at first. But he was so persistent. He kept messaging me at the most random hours. He seemed like he was in a real hurry to get to know me. I’m thinking he’s sensing a love connection in the making. I didn’t do anything to make him think that. He sent me three selfies of himself, seemed to be waiting for the right time to pounce on me, and he tried to include himself in my creative works. He said he was doing the same. He says he is struggling. He’s using it as an excuse to talk to me and I know it.

It was midnight, I was tired, I was getting ready to sleep, and boom! There he was again, messaging me. I plainly told him, “I’m going to bed now.”

I wake up the next morning, I get my coffee freshly brewed, I take my laptop to the front porch, I kick back and relax, I’m enjoying the fresh morning breeze, I see my professor walk by the house and I happily say “hello”. Right when I’m halfway done with my coffee and in the middle of listening to Amara La Negra’s “Insecure”, who messages me?

It’s Stalker Boy. I’m not in the mood to talk because I want to enjoy my day. So when he asks, “Good morning. How are you?” I swiftly responded three single word responses.

“Good”, “Caffeinating”, “Busy”. I told him that I was working on some stuff and that I was on a deadline. I’m already sick of this dude. So I typed up a letter, explaining myself very clearly that I needed him to chill out, don’t be in a huge rush to get to know me, and to respect my boundaries. I told him he was coming at me strong and that I was feeling uncomfortable. I told him about the sexual harassment I went through when we first spoke. I told him that I was still processing things. But he wouldn’t let up.

He reads the letter and says, “Ok. I understand. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was doing.” I try to get back to what I was doing and he still wants to make chit-chat.

Stalker Boy: “Meep. I hate storms.”

Me: “Suck it up buttercup.”

Stalker Boy: “Fine.”

Three peaceful seconds later…

Stalker Boy: “I’m keeping myself distracted with Persona. Lol.”

Me: “More power to ya. It’s back to work for me.”

Stalker Boy: “Same to you.”

Two or three hours later…

Stalker Boy: “How’s the thing you’re working along coming?”

Me: “Made my deadlines. Now I’m out to treat myself. Peace.”

He tries me again at midnight. I’ve already got my head on my pillow. I ignored it. As soon as I woke up I muted him and set his messages to ignore.

During this whole time I felt uneasy. My mind kept flashing back to when Nasty Nate wouldn’t stop bothering me, explained in graphic detail what he wanted to do to me, and showed me that pic and that video. And that’s when my anxieties were acting up. Everything I felt from that day I was feeling it all over again.

I felt dehumanized, disgusting, ugly, worthless, stupid, and violated. Even though no one has put their hands on me I felt violated. My insides were quivering. My mind felt like it was flooding. I was fighting back tears that were forming.

This is the part that doesn’t make any sense to me. My counselor and friends say that my feelings on this are valid. One of my friends said it sounded like PTSD. Which makes even less sense to me?

It’s been a very long time since I’ve studied psychology but it couldn’t be PTSD. Could it? It was one bad interaction. But my anxieties have been building since that day. And I’m flashing back to it. I almost completely broke down yesterday. I felt my mind begin to shatter. I can’t help feeling as if Nasty Nate really did put his hands on me and violated me physically.

Stalker Boy was just being annoying, not overtly disgusting. But I’m reacting like it’s Nasty Nate all over again. Is this what its going to be like for me every time a guy calls me cute? Every time someone glances in my direction?

I’m trying to bounce back from everything. I’m doing all that I can to take care of myself. I’m trying to move on. But I need to go at this thing hard.

I don’t know if it’s PTSD or not. But whatever it may be it is endangering my recovery from the Nightmare Syndrome. My recovery is something I have had to fight for. I was finally feeling better from everything and then I get sucker punched by circumstances. This will not stand!! I’ve come so far!! I won’t go back to being the person I was before all of this!

I’m devising plans on how to deal with everything. Once Monday hits I’m going on the offensive and giving this everything that I got. I need to get this thing under control before it escalates.

I will not be defeated!! My name is PenSwordAM because I’m not just a writer, but a warrior! So I’m going to fight! And for anyone whose endured sexual harassment, rape, domestic violence, or anything of the like, you all probably have it so much worse than I do. I wish I could help ease your pain. No one should ever have to go through something like this.

So fuck you Nasty Nate! Fuck you Stalker Boy! Fuck you Weinstein! Fuck you Cosby! Fuck you Louie C.K.! Fuck you Kevin Spacey! Fuck you Danny Masterson! Fuck you Jeffrey Tambor! FUCK every one of each and every single miserable piece of filth who hurt people in this way!! For making people feels this way!! If it were up to me they would all be completely destroyed!!

I need to stop here now. I’m going to come back from this, stronger than ever. Because I cannot be broken! I am beautiful, strong, wise, and good! I am a person, not a thing for someone’s personal amusement! You can keep the hits coming because I’ve learned to roll with the punches! Most importantly I can deal a hit a lot better than I can take one! I am a writer and I am a warrior!

I am PenSwordAM!!

Peace out!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t Mess With Writers

Warning: I’m a writer with an Uber acid trip imagination with years of pent up thoughts and emotions. Anything you say or do is subject to material for my storytelling. And don’t think that I won’t ever remember. The inside of my brain is like hoarders loaded with memories, random facts, and god knows what that may be spawned from the primordial ooze that is my imagination.

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I Will Not Be Silent.

This is going to be a different type of entry. It’s the sort of entry I never thought I’d ever have to write. So something happened yesterday. To save myself the trouble of having to type out all the words, refer to the screenshot below of a Facebook status post I made yesterday.

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There’s the whole story. I feel disgusted, insulted, and pissed off. I can’t believe that I’d ever be on the receiving end of this bullshit. He says he’s sorry but I’m not feeling anything sincere from it. He actually thought that video was going to get a rise out of me? Give me a fucking break…

I’ve sent a report to Facebook help center, I’ve taken a screenshot of my facebook post from yesterday, I’ve told my friends about this, I am not keeping quiet about it.

I tried to be cool. I tried to be classy by not even calling out his name, but fuck all that!! I am not Jesus, I am not perfect, I will not show mercy or forgiveness. I will tell my story. You cannot silence me.

That’s it. I’m done.

 

Permanence

When I was a kid I was forced to move around a lot. I was born in Columbus, Ohio but when I finished the 2nd grade my family and I moved to Illinois. It’s been so long that I barely remember the name of the place I lived in. I was only there until I finished the 3rd grade. I think the name of the town was Coal Valley. It was close to Moline. That much I can remember.

Then we moved down to the Carolinas where I’ve been living since. First it was Georgetown, South Carolina. Easily the smallest, most rinky dink town I’ve lived in. More so than Boone believe it or not. When I was getting ready to start the 6th grade we moved to a North Carolina town. The only thing I remember about this particular period of my life was this tiny crap shack apartment I had to live in and that I was enrolled in school for only a month. I can’t remember the town’s name, just that it had “Green” in it.

Once that month passed my parents secured their old jobs back in Georgetown where we returned. Mercifully our house hadn’t been sold. When 1999 hit and I was finishing up 6th grade we moved again to North Carolina. This time, it was Charlotte.

I haven’t thought about this in forever. I buried these memories a long time ago just like everything else. The times between each move were always filled with unrest. When it had been confirmed that my Dad had gotten the job in Illinois I remember seeing my Mom cry in the home office that used to be my bedroom. She didn’t want the move to happen. And she hated the house we lived in during Illinois.

I hated leaving every home. I hated having to separate from the few friends I had made. I hated having to start over from scratch all over again. I hated every big change that kept happening in between moves.

There are a few things that stayed consistent in my life during all this. The memories are slowly coming back to me.

I remember I had this pillow that I loved. There was nothing special about it. I just really liked it. I loved snuggling with it, clutching it tight like it was a teddy bear. I had that pillow with me through all my moves. I had it from the time I was in 2nd grade and I didn’t let it go until I was almost 16 years old. I didn’t care how torn up or gross looking it was. It didn’t just provide comfort but it was one of the few things that stayed with me through all 4 states. Recently I’ve noticed that I’ve been seeking comfort with the pillows I have now. Almost like I’ve regressed.

Then there were my childhood heroes; the Ghostbusters and the Power Rangers. I liked Batman and the X-Men too, but I didn’t obsess over them. I collected all sorts of toys, I recorded episodes and watched them obsessively. I even had my own story ideas based on Ghostbusters and Power Rangers that my Georgetown friends and I used to act out. We role-played as our own characters and added in all kinds of stuff. We probably crossed over our Power Rangers with Dragon Ball Z and Batman at some point. Even after moving to Charlotte I kept acting things out in a one-man show type of style. Whenever my parents or brother overheard me or walked in on me you can imagine it was quite awkward. But I didn’t let that stop me. At some point I stopped with the role-plays and I put away my toys, yet I never got around to completely growing out of things.

The move to Charlotte was the worst for me. I had just turned 14, started 7th grade, and was immediately labeled a “fucking faggot” by everyone before I even had a chance to wrap my mind around it. I knew I was different from others before then, but I didn’t place a word on it until I entered Sun Valley Middle. Those kids weren’t just monsters, but they were like prototypes to the jaded, cynical adults that I would grow to hate and never wanted to become.

At that point I kept seeking refuge in the things that gave me the most comfort and I found other interests that did the same thing. That’s when I seriously got into anime and video games. While everyone was busy reading Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings I was saving the worlds of Final Fantasy 8, The Legend of Dragoon, and Brave Fencer Musashi. The only pro-LGBT things I was watching on television back then was Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Sailor Moon. If I were a lesbian I’d probably would’ve been more empowered, but I still enjoyed watching them. By this point I had pretty much cemented my status as a complete nerd.

I had a lot of story ideas in my head. I would imagine characters as if they were my real friends because they weren’t as vile and toxic as the people I knew in my real life. I did the best I could to keep it all contained within myself. I didn’t wanted to share with anyone. Whenever I did share with someone I’d soon come to regret it. So by not sharing anything I thought I was keeping those characters safe from outside interference and the toxicity that came with it.

The only friend I still have from this distant past is Ellison. We met when I was in 4th grade. Our personalities are like night and day. I know I drove him and his brothers crazy. But he still stayed my friend, we still had great sleepovers, and we had a lot of good laughs. A lot of them at my own expense. I lost contact with him for years, but got back in touch with him through the magic of social media. Ellison must’ve been a saint or a monk in a past life because how else would anyone put up with me? He’s more of a brother than my own blood.

Then I grew up. Something I’m beginning to think was a terrible life decision. Seriously…worst advice I ever followed….

I think a huge reason why I am the way I am is because of all the moving. Whenever someone asks me what my big plans are my usual response is, “Nothing really. Just gonna chill at home.”

Or someone, family or friend, suggested going out I’d shut them down, “No! I don’t feel like it!”

When it was time to move away I didn’t have a say in any of it. When Ellison and his family moved away to Maryland I was left behind. Whenever my Dad would always yell at me I always felt powerless in the same way I did when I roamed the hallways of Sun Valley and people would give me those disdainful looks. When my parents fought there was nothing I could do except escape into my own world where everything made more sense.

That’s why I decided for myself…

“I never want to go anywhere or do anything unless it’s under my own terms. No one will decide anything for me anymore.”

“If being an adult means giving up all these things or always being sad and angry about something then I don’t want grow up!”

It might be immature to think that things should stay the same, to deny changes that were inevitable to happen, but I need consistency in my life. I crave for it. What I speak of isn’t a pillow, a superhero, or any of my interests, but something else.

-I need a place of my own to call home.
-I want friends in my real life that aren’t going to disappear on me.
-I want a fairy tale romance. Even if it’s vanilla in other people’s eyes.
-I want to live life under my own terms. Where I’m happy and that’s all that matters.

Now I’m feeling like I’m off the tangent. Cue exit.

See ya.