Today started out okay. Tejony didn’t fuss too much, the weather was good enough the boys could spend a few hours outside and I had tasty leftovers for breakfast.
But it didn’t stay a good day. Sunday night I noticed a little fungus growing on Tank’s wen. That was after I saw some on a snail’s shell. I immediately started treating the tank with malachite green and aquarium salt. Last night I noticed Tank looked a little bloated, but maybe it was my imagination. He was still acting normally.
At noon today, Tank was horribly distended, and starting to bottom sit. I gently scooped him up in my hand, and there was no pineconing, no discoloration or any obvious things wrong except the tiny bit of fungus, and his swollen body. I was already doing water changes every 12 hours since I started treating the tank. Water parameters were pristine.
By 5pm, Tank was even more swollen. Like a water balloon about to burst, and he was dead. His body didn’t float and was very heavy, and I can only assume the swelling was some horrible fluid retention. I have no idea what caused this or why it took him so quickly, but he was my favorite fish.
I’ll do another water change tonight, and treat for fungus tomorrow afternoon and the next day with more water changes. I’m crushed, because Tank was the fish that made me definitely decide to jump into fancy goldfish. He looked just like a little black manatee.
Swim in peace, little dude.
I had another really crazy dream.
I went with my grandmother to her dead sister’s house to go through her stuff. I was excited because she did a lot of cross stitch and macrame and I was hoping to score some floss and cords.
When we got there, there were these huge grocery store style chest freezers. And there were large frogs in them. Weird but uh okay.
I’m about done going through stuff. My grandmother is obsessed with finding secret messages hidden in pieces of glass. Everything glass she’s holding up to her eye to look through it. My uncle Ed is there too doing the same thing. There were other people there too.
Then this guy approaches me. He’s cute, polite, friendly. He asks if he can call me tomorrow. It’s really important he can call at a certain time because he can’t stay out of the water too long. I say okay. We try to exchange numbers but when I ask his name, he croaked like a frog. I’m starting to put things together now. Finally I start to give him my number.
Suddenly my grandfather appears and starts screaming at both of us. That I’m too young and naive to get involved in this, that the military is never going to take me away. I’m pissed because I just want to continue talking to this sweet man. Finally after a lot of yelling, everyone disperses from around us. I give him my number.
Somewhere during our conversation, I realize he’s been genetically altered by the military and they want to do the same to me. As my family is leaving the house later, a robot asked me if my name is D. Wild. I said no and keep walking. It has a big syringe full of liquid.
I get back home, which literally means climbing a fence. The next thing I know, all the other people in the house are working to hide me from the military who is now frantically searching for me. One of the (also genetically modified) people is holding me in a feed trailer in the dark, using his scent to mask mine. He’s also caressing my skin (why am I naked?) and I’m getting turned on and trying to be still and quiet.
Somehow they get them to back off and leave me alone. Puppies are given out. A party is planned for the next night. My mom steps in and says everyone has to leave by 8pm at the party.
But everything’s okay now.
Two nights in a row, I’ve woken up from the same dream with a panic attack.
Basically, I was living on the streets, well, on an abandoned barge, and everyone was turning against me. I started plotting to get back at some of the people hurting me, and this sea captain helped me start a chain of catastrophic events, then rescued me. I had the clothes on my back. I was dirty and messy.
Turns out his ship could fucking fly and then we rode it across these roller coaster rails to a fantastic land where other humans didn’t exist. He was king of this land, and the people were a little different. Slightly feline looking, and covered in short fur but basically human in form.
The king adopted me as one of his daughters and sent me to have dresses made and get cleaned up and be made presentable.
I had an immediate attraction to the tailor who would be making my gowns and he stepped in to help me with my transition into their society. We spent all our time together. We fell in love. But elements of my real waking life were there too.
I was still the same weight. And when it came up that while a pregnancy could occur between our two species, it would be detrimental to the female, I said it was okay because I had already been spayed.
We traveled together between their planet and mine, visiting different cities around the world, doing silly things, learning about each other’s culture. We had fun.
But I was worried about really fitting in here. I didn’t fit in on my old life and people abused and hurt me. I wondered if that would just happen here in my new home too.
I’m not sure why this dream, which continued over two nights, was so triggering for me to cause panic attacks. I haven’t had one in a long time. It’s not a fun thing to wake up from. Heat racing, can’t breathe, your body feels out of control.
Thankfully I’ve had enough of them that I go through a mental checklist automatically. Can I breathe normally? Am I actually trying? Am I in physical danger? Am I in a safe place? Is there anything I can realistically do for myself to help this pass quickly?
By the time I get halfway through that I’m usually good. Last night I was barely awake and shaking so hard I almost started crying. But I rolled over, took a klonopin, adjusted my blankets, and breathed slowly and deliberately until I fell back asleep.
Tonight I was awakened too far for that to help so I got up and peed and watched an episode of South Park.
I don’t know if this anxiety is tied in to the date or something else. The 21st is the 9th anniversary of my Daddy’s death.
Another crazy dream this week, folks!
This time, my dead friend Chris just showed up at my house in the middle of the night. Not even a phone call first. I was shocked but invited him in even though I wasn’t allowed to have guests.
He had lost a ton of weight while “dead” and while I still recognized him, he was like another person.
We ended up having sex… But I could barely feel him even though he was pretty big. And he didn’t know how to kiss – he was a drooler. There’s nothing worse than a drooler!
My mom kept walking in on us acting disgusted and then she started parading random people through the bedroom too. Most of them were Rafael’s extended family and they all wanted to shake hands.
We eventually finished having sex and he made all these weird mechanical spurting noises when he finished, like he was a machine. It was bizarre.
Then I woke up.
I’ve collected a few tweets that highlight things I find myself thinking about – mainly what the hell is wrong with us as a people that these are the things we have to be worried about?
I just asked “Wait, which one?” about a school shooting, so that’s where we are as a species.
— Elizabeth Hackett (@LizHackett) May 22, 2018
Stop thanking men for not being creepy jerks. This is expected & required behaviour, not something to be lauded as exceptional.
— Kung Fu Kanga (@_little_old_me) May 21, 2018
It is sickening that more kids have lost their lives in schools this year than servicemembers who willingly risk theirs in combat zones https://t.co/qetCduPqwE
— Tammy Duckworth (@SenDuckworth) May 22, 2018
Raise your hand if you were bullied as a kid (hell, as a teenager, as an adult) and never massacred a group of people because of it.
— Krista (@krittabug) May 22, 2018
I don't know what an incel is. I don't know what the concept of "redistribution of sex" is all about. I don't know where the whole idea of "let's kill people because women won't fuck us" came from all of a sudden. I just know I'm super disgusted.
— Baconator Supreme Matt (@aceofknaves88) May 22, 2018
In the past I have behaved in ways when rejected by women that will always and forever make me deeply ashamed when I think of them, but I have never assaulted or killed anyone.
— Baconator Supreme Matt (@aceofknaves88) May 21, 2018
Stop saying that the Sante Fe victim "rejected" the shooter's "advances" – he wasn't "making advances". He was harassing her. She told him to stop and he killed her and a bunch of others. Stop making it sound like he awkwardly passed her a note asking if she liked anyone.
— Geraldine (@everywhereist) May 22, 2018
I’m still finding tons of stuff to clean up around the house. I’m finally almost done throwing away my old dresser that fell apart once piece at a time each week into the trash barrel – there’s just one side and the paperboard back left – and then I can start breaking down the tons of cardboard boxes I keep unearthing and throwing them away. I wish I could just throw them all out at once, but we only get one trash barrel so it’s not possible.
I keep finding technology-related stuff too. External DVD drives, multiple hard drives too small to be of much use in the current world (I’ve found like 6 of them), a hard drive enclosure that needs a power cord… And there’s a printer new in box that I think mom bought when she had Windows 8 that was incompatible with the computer then. I need to find cables for the hard drive enclosure and see if it and the drive currently inside it works, and if not, drop it off at the elections recycling place. The same goes for the external DVD drives – I will likely test those on my mom’s computer tonight.
Today my mom brought up if I wanted half ownership of the house and property when she dies. I said yes. I don’t want to stay here unless I built a place in the back, and honestly I would still rather sell my half and find a spot of land somewhere a bit closer to town… But either way, hopefully that’s not for a long time. A really, really long time.
For Thanksgiving, I did the shopping today, and picked up a 14-pound turkey for $9. I also bought stuff to make a blackberry cheesecake Wednesday night, and I’ll make the rolls from scratch the day of. Mom still wants to get a ham, but its just going to be me and her, and we don’t need all the food… Lol. Or maybe we do. I dunno.
I’ve still got quite a few piercings on my wishlist- both tragus, nose, and outer labia for sure, and maybe navel, and another helix. I’ve also decided to just invest in forceps and piercing needles in the appropriate sizes and do most of them myself. I want to do them this way because 1) save money, 2) it’ll be an interesting experience. And with the right tools, I feel like I stand a good chance of actually doing them right. Worst case, I just let them close back up again if they’re not quite right. But anyway, that’s for next month.
I also made a small order for some new jewelry as I had a coupon I couldn’t not use- $5 off and some of the items I wanted were on sale so I basically only paid shipping. I’ve got a few items from Ali Express on their way as well as (hopefully soon!) my Sanchezmas box. I’m super excited for that one!
I started watching Underground a few days ago- something Chris wanted me to watch, and now I’m torn when I watch a few episodes between just enjoying the show, and desperately wanting to talk to him about it. It hurts my heart something fierce and I hate feeling that way. My friend is still gone, and there’s still an empty place in my heart.
This morning I slept in, and woke up to terrible news. On Facebook, I saw that my good friend, one of my best friends, Chris, had died on the 5th. I talked to him on the 4th and he seemed to be doing pretty well, though he was embarrassed from a bad fall he had taken I think the day before.
Chris was one of the first people who befriended me on AudioGalaxy back in 1999, and we had talked almost every day since. There was a period where he visited a girlfriend in Canuckistan and was off the grid- I thought for sure he had died because he neglected to tell me where he was going.
This time though, his death is real, not imagined, and my heart is breaking. He had some recent health problems, and he was a big guy, very overweight, but he was doing okay from what he told me. I still don’t know what happened, what the cause of death was, except that it was sudden.
In the almost 20 years we were friends, we only spoke on the phone once, and I regret not having done so more often. Chris was one of my best friends and I miss him already. Rest in peace, you dirty old man. I love you.