Writing...um?

 So, I finally, finally, noticed that link thing that tells me to switch to the "new" Friends pages, which a noticed many people complaining about and being angry about and writing rather long posts about how much they dislike it and why and comparing it to sites I've never been to.
And then I scrolled through it.
And so... what's the problem, again?
It's bigger. It's clearer. I can read it more easily. It's... how do I put this... more stretched along the page? With fewer distractions? Is that sense making? I don't know. I honestly an unable to find the problems.
You guys, what are the problems with the New LIveJournal Friends Pages?

Also, my writer block... stagntation? issues? make me cry. I am so stuck at the end of of this one chapter (20? 21? Fuck, I forget) in which the sympathetic villain and the central heroine are in a stalemate and I the writer want the villain to come across as Mentally Interesting Person Who Just Wants To Do The Right Thing And Needs The Help Of The Heroine Except That What He Wants Is To Destroy, Delete, And Reset Reality To His Liking. And a big big important note is that ALL my characters are Mentally Interesting. This is my substitute word for Crazy and Mentally Ill and Disabled. Something is... Not Typical about anyone in my novel. I do not actually come out and name any diagnosis because this is, what, the 2100s, and the DSM has probably evolved into a beast of a book that bites your hand if you get things wrong. Really, the only characters who are most fleshed out as Mentally Interesting/Crazy/Disabled are the Sympathetic Villain and the Central Heroine. Except there's a lot with the Sympathetic Villain. He is quite Delusional and psychotic... but is he a sociopath? A schizophrenic? A schizo-type? Obsessive-Compulsive Personality? Bipolar? Oh, who the fuck cares. He is who he is. And maybe that is part of why I am blocked? Must I give him a Thing with a Name? My Heroine has Severe General Anxiety and Major Depression and PTSD and Epilepsy and Obsessive-Compulsive and Sensory Processing Disorder, Attachment Issues, and and extremely mild Attachment Disorder conflicting with extremely mild Avoidant Disorder.
And now we come to the Why? Why, Joanna the Author, do you have to do this? Why do you want to do this? Why does this matter? What is the point?

Peaceful Dragon Mediterranean Princess Warrior feels better

I know Pantheism and Polytheism often conflict, but I am a proud pantheistic polytheistic polyagnostic eclectic moonlight witch.
(Also, a Peaceful Dragon Mediterranean Princess Warrior, which is neither here nor there.)

And I am very fluid in my faith and philosophy, which means I enjoy discussing faith in general, so long as I am not proselytized at.
 
(It's funny. As soon as I mention that I am ethnically Jewish and spiritually Pagan, the proselytizing ends with nary a complaint. I am ethnically Jewish with a heritage of Sicilian, Greek, Russian, Romanian, Hungarian. And I am proud. But not so proud that I announce it every time something involving one of those ethnicity comes up.
I know people like that. Especially if they are, say 1/16 said ethnicity. Yes, dears. It's lovely that you have such rich heritage with a few drops of that ethnic blood; now please stop telling me how wonderful you are because of it.)

Finding this image was amazing. I had a dream about it in early 2012, and I don't even remember how I found the image online. Ah, Higher Brain and Subconscious, and Quantum Psychic Consciousness, I love it when you work together.

This image is ideal: I like dragons. And lotus flowers. And the moon. And the cosmos. And transcendental meditation. And magic. And the concept that all consciousness is connected, with no need to use religion to connect to the cosmic parts.

We are all made of the universe."We are the universe trying to understand itself" like Carl Sagan said.

And as Delenn from Babylon 5 says:
"The molecules of your body are the same molecules that make this station and the nebula outside, that burn inside the stars themselves. We are star-stuff. We are the Universe, made manifest, trying to figure itself out. And, as we have both learned, sometimes the Universe needs a change of perspective."
-Delenn, 'A Distant Star' episode of 'Babylon 5'

Whatever

Well, I was recently accused of medicalizing myself. You know, putting every behavior and personal decision on my disabilities. And all I could do was shut my eyes, pinch the bridge of my nose, and say, "Sure. Okay." Because oh gods, I was not having that argument again. Sure. Fine. I medicalize myself. There. Are we done?
I don't think they understand, care, or want to understand or care that these are things I deal with every day, all the time, without end, out in the open. I can ignore it. I often do ignore it. Hey, I don't need my cane today, I feel great! Hey, I don't need my painkillers or muscle relaxanats today, I feel great! You know, until I stop feeling great. Until I am in so much pain that I am hobbling and sobbing.
But the main issue here is "Every time we talk and I mention X behavior of yours, you tell me it's because of your mental illness or this disability or that disability. Stop doing that."
Okay. Fine. You know what? I will. Fuck this. Fuck it. I'm happy to stop talking to them about it. I'll just say, "Yeah, this is all me, I'm fucked up." I won't even mention OCD, or ADD, or seizures with post-ictal state, or major depression, or severe anxiety. Or any of it. Because it isn't worth my anxiety, my emotional freakouts.
I've explained about my advocating, and I was told, "You are not helping anyone. No one cares. Why don't you find a shelter or clinic to talk to?" And I shut my mouth, because I don't work like that. And people over the internet are still people. People who need help. People who listen to me. People who have told me how much I have helped them just by talking to them and being there for them. And the reply is, "How do you know these people are real?" And I say, "How do we know anyone is real? How do they know I am real? Do I care? People exist all over the place. And just because so many of my friends don't live anywhere near me, it doesn't mean that they are fake or I am fake or..." And the person just says, "Yeah, good point."
Oh gods, fuck it. I'm making myself upset again. I just... fuck, now I feel so useless. What is my worth now if I'm being told that nothing I do is useful or helpful or worthwhile?
Small disclosure: This is someone I met in DC many years ago and kept in contact with after they moved away. This person is older; a fairly anti-technology person who doesn't care for social networks and the like, who mainly uses the internet for research and to email people. This is a friend whom I talk on the phone with often. This is someone I love dearly and wish to keep in my life. But if this person keeps telling me that my online interactions are not as helpful, useful, or worthwhile as I believe, I'm going to tell them that we cannot discuss this anymore. We can discuss anything else, anything at all, except this.
Yep. Crying now. I didn't want this. Oh well.
Oh, I will get past it. I always do. I know this person never means to hurt me and truly doesn't want to hurt me. But we live such different lives. There will never be that true connection. My world is mostly online because I don't like talking to groups. I freeze up. My throat closes in that anxiety way. And of course, there are so many ways to get over stage fright... but I'll do that when it comes to that.
It's okay. I will take care of this. I just need to teach myself to grow a stronger and sturdier backbone.

Ahhh, better.

Oh, hey, the passionflower extract just started working. It was a double dose. I am really, really relaxed and calm right now. Like, "Dude, everything is so bright and sweet and fluffy right now" type of relaxed.

I needed this. I needed something to take that edge off, before Peaceful Dragon started yelling. Because then I would have started punching pillows and finding ways to shatter things on purpose that needed to be trashed anyway. I would have desperately wanted to fight something, scream, run so far that my own fear and anger couldn't chase me anymore.

I feel much better now.

I'll call my mom tonight and chat about cute things, like kittens and LOLcats and funny internet things. She always helps me feel better, because usually her logic and practically help bring me back down.

Also, reminders to self:
Call The Spine Center and ask to reschedule that appointment to an earlier day, as the appointment would directly conflict with our preparations to go to Sag Harbor for Thanksgiving.
Eat more.
Do more of those hip exercises that Dolores showed me at the NRH therapy center.
Find out when Season 3 of "My Little Pony Friendship Is Magic" will premiere; sometime this month.