I just realized all my Christmas presents are in one of the 15 boxes stacked up in the garage. So instead of tearing the garage apart to find them, I'm going to wrap a card for everyone and on each card it will say this. "This year, instead of unwrapping your present, you get to go on a treasure hunt! To find your present, first put on socks and shoes, and then ask Kristi for a description of what your present looks like. Then proceed to the garage. Your present is in a brown cardboard box. Have fun!"

Last Post's Quote

In my last post I talked about an awesome/evil quote (depending on how much of a grown-up I felt like being), and then forgot to put the quote! Here it is:
Our deepest fear is that we are  powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will feel secure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in all of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
-Nelson Mandela

Moving Home

Obviously I'm having a hard time going through talking about the last few years. So I'll start with today. And take it from there until I get bored with that.
I am back at my parents house again. One thing about having anxiety and being bipolar, you always manage to end up right back where you started. And that's ok. Especially when your mom is as good a cook as mine. I joke that they won't ever have to go through empty nest syndrome with me around.
 My parents don't mind. In fact, sometimes I think they like it, now that all their children are growing up and going off in their own directions, it's nice to have someone home to do all the chores, at least when I can manage to get enough energy to get out of bed.
 I think the only thing they don't like is the amount of stuff I manage to accrue in the short months away. I'm pretty sure I've brought back a bookcase every time I've come home. They've somehow all magically disappeared though...
Generally, when someone from a good family goes home, they feel safe. They have all these people around that love and support them, they have a roof over their head and food to eat. I am grateful for all of that. But the only time I feel like I can survive, like I can be safe from myself, is when I am truly and completely alone.
The times I've conquered myself have been the times where I've been so far away from everything familiar, that the only thing I know is me. That's when I become a survivor. Here at home, I lean on people until I fall and can't get back up. But I do because someone always puts their hands under my armpits and keeps dragging me along. The cycle just keeps going. Sometimes I wonder if the best thing would just be to disappear. But wherever I go, things will eventually become familiar. New friends will eventually want me to lean on them. And I'll have to leave again. Sometimes I have to wonder if the only two choices I have are to be sick my whole life, or get sick of my life.
I've always enjoyed traveling.
Today at least I've managed to take most of my meds. It's easy to take the ones that make you feel sick if you miss a dose. Why it's so hard to take the others, I don't know. I use the excuse that my parents can't really afford to buy them ($300 a month is a bit much for anyone) but really I think it's that sometimes I like the excuse to be the way I am. If I take the meds it means I have to try, and trying is so exhausting.
Someone once gave me a quote, the context in which it was given and who exactly gave it to me are a bit fuzzy, but it's penned on a post-it note right above my bed, for me to either glower at or have hope in. Whichever mood I feel like being in.
Blah blah blah, I've lost patience for this now. More later!

Apocalypse, Alien

So this is a dream I had the other night:

The alien apocalypse arrives.

They disguise themselves as best they can... but because of my awesome spy skills, I realize something is a little bit off.

I, of course, come to the one and only conclusion that could possibly be possible.

There suddenly appeared a building made precisely for living through alien apocalypses... Apocalypsi?

Everyone rushed into the building. Several left their children behind. I made them go back outside and get them. Because I was in charge and everyone had to listen to me.

My ex- husband's arm made a guest appearance to give me an awesome gun. Then my ex- husband's arm disappeared and never reappeared for the rest of my dream.

Then this chick stops in the middle of the doors so no one could get past and just talks! What the heck!

So I pulled the gun on her. Don't worry, I know that's not really how you hold a gun. I just can't draw it right.

The aliens for some reason couldn't work the glass doors. So they left. But not before we had all settled down into our awesome rooms and they had the coolest beds ever.

One day, I'm going to save the world.

So I Guess I'm Back. Or Something.

I've decided my blog needs a total makeover. It's kinda boring. So from now on, there will be more humor, and definitely more pictures! Made with that Microsoft Paint program thingy. 

Here is an example of a picture. I am probably the best artist ever, except for my sister, who is way better than me. She's better than you, too.

So anyway, I don't really feel like continuing my story at this moment. I will do that later. Really all I feel like is drawing pictures. But I'm going to do something different with my blog setup... So I'm gonna do that. And then maybe draw pictures of my dream from last night.