Hey, guys, it’s been a while, but that’s because this post had to grow a little before I could show you. Also, I’ve had to go to some weddings and work stuff. Ya know, life?
Well, let’s get on with it so I can show off my garden!
I know, it doesn’t look like much here but that’s because it’s the first picture I took after getting all the seeds and some of the starts planted. I decided to do this because I can’t seem to keep plants alive and I wanted to challenge myself to gain a skill. Some of the plants took really well while others are still really tiny. The little tomatoes in the background there are now huge and making fruit!
This was also really good for my food because I now have a ton of fresh herbs including basic, lemon thyme, rosemary, chocolate mint, and more. There’s five kinds of tomatoes, three types of peppers, and a myriad of flowers that bees are attracted to because bees are important to a healthy garden and also, oh, the Earth.
What I didn’t expect was what gardening would do for my mental health. It feels good to get up and tend to your plants. There’s an amazing sense of pride I get when I tell people that we are eating food that I’ve grown! I am attached to these little guys like they’re my cats and wow do they need a lot of care. I mean, they’re on a porch, so it isn’t ideal, which means I have to work extra hard to make sure they have everything they need. I’ve made many trips to the store for various bug or mildew related issues. Seeing them grow and flower has been more rewarding than I could ever imagine.
I hope you all are having a good day and I’ll show you what I make with my plants here soon.
I know God isn’t real so the title of this blog might seem a little strange but it is going to make sense in the end. If you watched my recent video with Reverend Campbell you might remember me saying that I had only been a Satanist for about a year and a half now and a Citizen of the Infernal Empire since February 2018.
I’ve been thinking about these answers and figures and I realize that I need to elaborate a little bit. So, I think it’s time to tell you guys a story. It’s a sad story, but it has a happy ending. It’s going to cover a lot of ground, but I promise it won’t be too long.
My parents met in late in 1992 when my Mom was on her way to Dairy Queen and Dad was out driving with his friend. He was in Washington State for the Navy and was out looking for a party when he was blonde hair in a car and thought she might be going to one. Well, when they got to DQ, they met, and it must have been love at first sight because I was born during April 1994. My parents got married not long after finding out Mom was pregnant and not long after I was born my parents moved back to Pennsylvania where my Dad is from.
A year after that, my parents got a divorce. To be totally honest, I don’t know exactly why. Mom has said things like they were too young and were in different places in life and crap like that, but I know better. My Dad was too young to be a Dad and Mom had to step up and do it all. She did just that. My Mom is a bad ass woman and it might be easy to blame the rest of this story on her, but I don’t and if you say something bad about my Mom I will freak out. She’s an amazing woman and everything I hope to be one day.
So, Mom and I went back to Washington to be with her side of the family. She worked a lot and my grandma would take care of me or my aunt or family friends. Mom had a few short-term boyfriends who I don’t remember after my Dad, but they never worked out. Then she met a person who we will call Sam.
Mom was with Sam for 17 of my 19 years and Sam is the father of my Half-Sister and Half-Brother. I love those kids so much and am thankful they are here; Don’t forget that during the rest of this story.
Sam abused my Mom and I. After my Sister was born, everything changed with him. He started drinking all night, every night. He drove us to Christmas dinner after drinking a fifth of vodka. He gambled away our money until we got evicted from house after house after house. Mom used to have to take us an hour away to find him because he was too drunk and out of money. One time, when my Dad called, Sam picked up and told him his daughter had two black eyes.
Sam once forced me to pee my pants. He refused to let me use a toilet and then laughed at me and made me clean it up and then worse. Then my sweet little brother was born. Nothing changed. I have internal and external scars from Sam that I will always carry. There were many times when I thought I was going to die and sometimes that was okay.
I have a semi-religious family. They took me to church sometimes, mostly when I was back east, and while I was never a Christian, I did try to reach God. When I was locked in a closet all day, I prayed all day. After a knife cut a deep, red line across my skin, I prayed until the bleeding stopped. I was desperate and alone and I was willing to try anything, so I prayed.
Nothing happened. Nothing changed. My Mom was the one who saved me in the end because she had taken enough. She had been trying to do her best for my little Brother and Sister, but she knew nothing would be good for them if she were dead. I had also finally told her the extend of the abuse I had faced at Sam’s hand. She had no idea.
In the middle of the night one night, we grabbed everything and we left. We took the animals and enough clothing to get us through a week. I went to school though nobody else went to their normal activities because school was a haven for me, even though I had to worked through abuse from me peers there. I worked my ass of and ended up going to college during school because I knew I needed to succeed. That would mean I had won.
Not long after all this, my Mom married my Dad again and they are still married to this day. It was a hard transition for my Sister and Brother, as well as myself, because we were all on edge. I’m still hand-shy. Sam tried his best to break us, though. He got us evicted and lied so my Dad would lose his job. I was, for some reason, followed by the police because of him.
But we are here now and we have all won. I am a teacher and a professional Lighting Designer. My Mom works in the same school district as I do and Dad is a tower crane operator. My sister is going to WSU and my Brother is my student so I can check his grades and he is currently getting all A’s.
Sam works at a casino, which is fine, but also has 3 DUIs and is massively in debt. Well, I think he should have 3 but only has 1 because he wiggled his way out of them.
What I am trying to get at here is that I’ve always been a Satanist, even when I was praying in a closet for hours. It madam realize that the only person who can save you is yourself. You can get help from friends and family like I did, but you have to ask and you have to make it known you need help. I kept myself alive and anybody who tries to tell me God helped can kiss my clitoris because it was me; Me and My Mom and my family.
I’m not looking for sympathy or tears here because I’ve had a wonderful life thus far. I’ve traveled the country in 18-wheeler trucks and learned to bowl in Wyoming. The guy who taught me had 3 fingers and that’s all he could do anymore. I’ve seen more stars in the sky than I could even imagine because I was so far out in the middle of nowhere. I taught myself a piece of My Heart Will Go On while in Florida on the edge of a hurricane. I’ve seen Hamilton! I get to be a teacher and be in love with my Best Friend. I get to have a wonderful family who will always love me. I get to live in the most beautiful state in the USA. I’ve traveled in tug boat and have flown in so many airplanes that I can feel us starting our decent before the pilot even announces it.
Yeah, I’ve had a wonderful life. I’ve done a lot already and I’m only 24! I can’t wait to see where I take myself next in life.
Hae a great rest of your Sunday, my Sweet Satanists!
Hello, guys, all 9 of you! I know I’ve been gone for a long while, it’s just been a crazy time at work. The students are starting to get into testing season and it’s becoming beautiful here in the Pacific Northwest so they get really restless by the time they get to me. That’s okay, I understand.
Another reason I have been away for a while is that I am SO fucking tired. I have insomnia, which really sucks when I am trying to look after 30 middle school children. My eyes start to feel like they’re filled with cement and I get tunnel vision if I stop for too long.
It’s impossible for me to get any work done during these hours. My brain moves at half speed and I sit there, thinking about what I want to write, and almost as soon as an idea enters my brain, I forget it. Sometimes, I try to spell of ‘Ove” when it’s really tired.
So, some of you are probably starting a message saying to try melatonin. I can’t. I literally can’t because if I do, my legs shake. Or, well, they feel like they need to shake or they’ll explode. This is extra frustrating because my brain will be tired, but if I stop moving my legs, it feels so much like they’ll burst if I stop even for a second.
Recently, I found that walking helps a lot. I really, really hate running and going to the gym, so I just end up walking a whole lot so that I can tire myself. Sometimes I don’t start walking until very late at night. I had to pause this recently because I ended up seeing somebody trying to break in to an apartment complex on my last walk. When he saw me, he stopped and watched me the whole way. I thought I was about to be murdered or worse.
Luckily, found something that works really, really well and I was so happy to finally get more than 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep! I’m not taking to tonight or tomorrow, though, because the last time I found something that worked, my brained ended up getting used to it until I had to either take too much or it wouldn’t work.
Insomnia also makes my anxiety and depression much worse and it’s hard to better your life in any way when you’re too tired to eat, even if the food is already made for you. I find myself reading the Compassion Ritual, in my head, to help me fall into some sort of trance that reading brings. I read the Compassion Ritual from The Satanic Bible so that I might sway the night to let me sleep. Sometimes I write song lyrics that will never be felt on singing lips.
BUT, the first thing I try, as soon as it starts to get too late, is drinking warm milk and watching Bob Ross. The man has such a relaxing voice that it lulls me into a sense of comfort and peace. This, along with the warmth of the milk I heated, will sometimes be just enough to push me off the cliff and into sleep.
I hope you all have a great night sleep tonight and wake up feeling refreshed. If not, let me know, I’ll probably be up.
Sexuality is something very personal and it’s hard to put a clean label on anybody. Now, this is where some people start rolling their eyes as far back into their head as they can and to them, I say this: Shut the fuck up.
Yeah, shut the fuck up, because you’re just being ridiculous. One thing I’ve never been able to wrap my head around is the fact that some people are willing to spend so much energy on something that literally doesn’t impact their lives in any way.
Let me give an example: I don’t like cheese. I don’t! It just tastes funny to me and I can only eat in warm on things like pizza and mac. People always give me funny looks when I say I don’t like cheese, but then shrug and pop another bit of cheese bit of cheese in their mouth. Now, what they could do is throw me out of the house and never let me back in. That seems a little crazy, but it’s basically what a lot of parents do to their kids when they find out the truth. “Oh, you don’t like dick? Get the fuck out”.
When I sleep with a girl or find myself checking out a girl, the only people I am directly affecting are me and the girl. Now, since I have a boyfriend, Dylan would have some opinions, but he’s not in this hypothetical universe. (Sorry, Darling). Anybody else who is reacting to the happenings between me any another person is choosing to spend their energy focused on our lives and aren’t actively trying to better their own lives. Well, as long as nobody is being physically hurt (without consent) and everybody involved has agreed to participating.
Basically, we don’t need your shit because we are already drowning in our own. For most people, as I will never claim to speak for everybody, when we start having feelings for the same-sex (or whatever), we try to push it down. We were taught it’s not normal. Sometimes this is taught directly through religion or family values. By family values, I mean a homophobic parental unit who likes to use terms such as “faggots” or “homos”. These are the people who don’t want to let Trans people use the bathroom that matches their identity, but will beat them up for having the audacity to wear lipstick in the “Men’s room”.
Most often, though, we are taught to feel abnormal about these feelings indirectly. This takes the form of movies, shows, books, etc. We see happy heterosexual couples and the gay friend is always the butt of some joke. We hear phrases like “no homo, bro” because having these feelings MUST be so bad that you have to make sure people know you’re not gay.
It’s hard to walk through the world with all of these negative messages hitting you all the time. You start to push everything down and you hate yourself. This is why a lot of teens attempt suicide, and, sadly, a lot succeed in taking their own lives.
When I was going through school, I got a lot of shit for the way I presented myself and, once I came out, the fact that I was bisexual. Everybody thought it was a phase, including my mom. To be fair, a lot of people were saying they were bi so they would get attention. Again, not everybody, but a lot. People also bullied me by not talking to me, spreading rumors, spitting on me, slamming my locker, pushing me, and more I’m sure I’m forgetting. It wasn’t a great time.
But I got through it! I survived every awful day of childhood. Even when my mom didn’t believe me and I felt alone, I made it. That’s what matter. Adulthood is… different. I’m lucky to live in a really accepting area of the United States, so I don’t get a lot of hate here. What I do get is people who fetishize me. Oh yeah, Bisexual people are often asked to be part of group sex or sex with somebody’s partner while “they watch”. Please stop asking me to be part of your fantasy. I don’t sleep around and am actually a serial monogamist. I’m not shitting on other people who are fine with this and o sleep around, you do you, but I don’t want it. That’s why you should, I don’t know have some tact and let me finish my god damn drink, Carl!
Where I work, however, is a little more conservative in thinking. They’re mostly old farmers who go to church on Easter and Christmas. I tend to just keep my mouth shut in these areas, unless somebody starts spewing utter crap. Then I’ll chime in as a fact-checker. I’m not ashamed of who I am, I just don’t want to waste my time and energy on fighting a battle nobody will win. Honestly, we just need to wait for a lot of these people to die… Sorry. *Enter “Hard To Swallow Pills” Meme Here*
In the end, it’s just important to know who you are and love that person. You are perfect, no matter what. If you have no sex, cool. If you have all the sex, cool. If you like guys, cool. If you like trans guys, cool. If you don’t like romantic relations, cool. If you are attracted to all the things, cool. If you like only your opposite sex, cool. If you have multiple partners at once, cool.
I literally don’t care. It doesn’t impact my life in any way because I’m not worried about what anybody else is doing in the bedroom, as long as it’s all consensual and safe. Be smart, kids. Anybody who stays up late trying to figure out how to make the gays stop doing their own thing is spending too much energy on something that literally wouldn’t affect their life if they didn’t let it.
All this being said, if you need support in any way, feel free to email me. No matter what.
Hell, yeah, I’m willing to say it. I’m a pretty person! I don’t mean to sound full of myself, but that’s exactly what this post is going to sound like because it’d about loving yourself, which is taking me a long time to do. Yeah, I’m still in the progress of accepting myself as pretty because I was told for so long that I wasn’t.
From a very young age, around 6, I was told I was ugly. My former Stepdad was very abusive and always made me feel very low. At the same time, my peers weren’t any kinder. I was growing into my body and didn’t yet fit the image of what was beautiful. I was trying to figure out who I was, how I wanted to present myself, and where I fit into the world. As a woman, this is really hard. I was expected to be smart and funny and sporty and kind and this and that and it was so much pressure. My Mom was the only person who made me feel loved.
My grandma, an alcoholic, once told me I should never have children because I was so bad with kids. Yeah, I was 13. I wasn’t even good with myself yet. These things start to eat at a person and soon I wondered if I was even worth the oxygen I was breathing. I wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough. I couldn’t be a mom. What else is there in the world?
At age 15 I tried to end my life by taking a metric butt-ton of sleeping pills. One they started to take, I regretted everything. My boyfriend’s mom saw that something was very wrong and took me to the hospital. I’m eternally grateful to her since I love the life I have now so much.
My Mom left my former step dad in the middle of the night and that was the best day of my life. I had a new begging. I could be my own person without hate or persecution. After that, I thrived.
I was able to get the help and medication I needed, which gave me the drive to start learning and really taking care of myself. It’s only as of late that I’ve started to think of myself as a pretty person. My love, Dylan, who I’ve spoken about previously, has helped me so much in my journey to love myself. He’s helped me love my flaws because they make me who I am.
I’m still working on loving myself entirely because I seem to keep finding things about myself I dislike each day. But each day, I see something else that’s beautiful. I’m not perfect, but that’s what makes me amazing. Self acceptance is an important part of enjoying your life, but Self Appreciation is even more valuable. Appreciate the parts of yourself you find immaculate. I, for one, love my eyes because they’re dark blue, light blue, green, and orange. That’s awesome! But, also learn to appreciate your flaws. For example, I have a huge nose bump, but I love it, because it shows that I have Viking blood and that dope AF.
I love you all, my Infernal Brothers and Sisters, and I hope you do, too.
Don’t worry, it’s okay, I’m not here for sympathy. I want to, instead, just talk about it and maybe make depression seem a little less scary.
There are many reasons I could point to as to why I’m depressed, but the biggest one is biology and chemistry. My Dad suffers from depression and so does my grandma on my mom’s side. Actually, a lot of people on my mom’s side have a lot of issues. Basically, this was the way I was made and I have to live with it, which is exactly what I do. I live. I don’t mean this in the basic sense of the word such as simply breathing and eating, but I do what I enjoy and try to see life as positive– something I’m really bad at when I’m not medicated.
Oh yeah, I totally need medication. This is also, by the way, okay, because it means that you are taking the steps needed in order to focus your energy on more productive projects such as making art, furthering your career, spending more time with your family, or whatever it is you enjoy doing. If I don’t have it, I think about awful things like crashing my car into a tree on the freeway. I don’t really want to, but I think about it.
I also have anxiety. This manifests itself in the super fun way of making me sick. I finally figured out a morning/night regiment off medication that allows me to avoid getting sick usually, but it does still happen if I’m really stressed out. Basically, I wake up and just vomit for about ten minutes. It got to be so normal that I scheduled it into my routine.
Another way the anxiety and depression affects my life is through insomnia. I sometimes only get three to five hours of sleep each night, feeling exhausted all through the day, before finally waking up at night and not being able to fall asleep until three in the morning. In order to help myself fall asleep, I eat a bowl of oatmeal, have a small drink, and watch some Bob Ross. It may sound hokey, but it works for me.
If I do end up being able to fall asleep, I may end up waking up in the middle of the night due to night terrors from PTSD. Here’s the basic rundown of that: My mom and dad met and got pregnant with me so they got married, had me, and divorced. Dad had many girlfriends but never remarried. Mom didn’t either but she only had one really longterm partner. Let’s call him Greg. Greg is the father of my little brother and little sister, both half siblings, and I love them so much it hurts. Well, he mentally, physically, and emotionally abused me for 17 years. After my Dad moved back to Washington from Wyoming, Mom left Greg (not because of this, just a happy accident). My Mom and Dad, after a long few years of drama with Greg, including Greg causing my Dad to get fired, my parents got remarried. It sounds great, but it’s been strange and we are all still learning.
All in all, my life hasn’t been easy, but damn it could make a movie. I’m not sad about anything that happened in my life, nor would I change anything, and I think that may be one of the reasons I’m a Satanist. I use my hardships to create strength and knowledge. I want to change the world because of what I went through. Mental Health is really important to me because I’ve been unable to access it before and life was really hard to get through. But I did it.
But look at me now! I’m a teacher and a professional lighting designer who just turned 24 years old. I am living with the love of my life and have two cats who are as dear to me as children. I have crazy hair! I have a loving family and a bed to sleep in and food to eat, should I ever get off the couch today.
I wouldn’t change a thing about my past, or anything about me, because I like who I am now, and that’s all that matters.