attempting to start blogging again

just so i don't bore all of my penpals half to death with sending them long rants about Stuff.  that is why i have a blog!  i like blogs for that! long, pointless rants.

i have a cat now. her name is Snip, but i call her Tiny Cat.  she is both orange, and amazing. this is a point of departure from when i wrote before i went to the US last year. it will probably take some time for me to remember how to blog again, or how to write like i used to - there's an element of dribbling, and i think that will fast become clear.  and i'm not sure how easy i'll find it - large parts of my life remaining excised from this format due to the fact that this is hardly that difficult to find, if people know where to look, and all men have secrets - and here is not mine.

the previous incarnation of this blog was called 'sky between branches'. i shut it down for various reasons, mostly due to the fact i wanted to leave who i was, and what i had been doing, completely behind me.  i don't want to do that this time, because i am happy with where i have come. strangely enough, a complete mental breakdown due to a case of misdiagnosed late adolescent depression, wrong medication leading to a far more severe bipolar, and several doses of mania and depression more severe than i've ever experienced, is still not as painful as the situation leading up to what ended my last blog.   the process of dealing with the way i was treated by the ex partner is painful for me to re-read -- or to even be in close proximity to. i never want to have a person make me feel the way i did then; like my flesh split and peeled back like an orange and my muscles and bones were left exposed and drying in the heat.  i felt like there were pins in my eyes, thumb tacs under each toe.  i smashed bottles and screamed at the sky. i would never have been as stupid to rand about never trusting a man again, but i can sure as fuck say it's been a lot harder to trust anyone than i thought was possible.   but re-reading it, i know that it's all very much behind me.  that relationship, the aftermath, i'm out of the shadow of whatever happened then.  more memories. more instances of people who are no longer relevant to me - only the memories i hold of what happened are relevant.  with that situation, those memories will be ones i sort through for years, trying to isolate what hurt me so much.  every doctor i've seen diagnoses him with psychopathy.  it makes a lot of sense.

i've restructured how i live. i've long tossed out my notion of polyamoury as a life choice for me.  the desire for wild nights and wilder adventures faded as soon as my moods started stabilising on the correct medication.  i have a cat now, and i grow plants, and i want to be this person, (only with more regular house cleaning and budget skills) and not the one i used to be. i am hopeful, and optimistic, and i think i am still worthwhile and deserving of actually finding happiness at some eventual point.  if 'finding' it is a goal. if there is a goal.  i'm not sure i'm making sense.

i'm reading Americana by Don DeLillo.  i love names which have capital letters in the middle of them.  mismatched capitals in formal english amuse me.  aside from that, the book is also marvellous.

tomorrow, i'm going to a wedding. weddings make me nervous, and anxious, and insecure. they are like high-tension parties, where everyone is slightly more than they are in an average social event.

it is past 2am, and i'm still awake. my sleep cycle is shot, due to medication issues, and having a cold last week. i tend towards nocturnal; it's soothing and safe in the dark, everything is quieter, and i can sit here, with my cat, patting her like the little plushy soft cat she is, surrounded by a completely insane number of books.

i hope you are sleeping well, dear readers, if there are any out there.  either unread, or heavily read - both is somehow strangely comforting to me. i like just flinging out the words and seeing which ones stick to the wall and what ones slide down.