Insomnia is my enemy

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This lady is doing what I wish I could have done last night – sleep. I got hit with a bout of insomnia and ended up not going to sleep until 4:30 this morning. I was up by around 7:30.

I’m looking at my to do list and just groaning. I’ve got a lot of stuff I want to get done, but I know in a couple hours I’m just going to crash and have to take a nap. But I realized that it’s okay. What I don’t get done today can be done tomorrow or Monday. Most of what I want to do isn’t extremely vital. It’s also the weekend so it’s a bit more laid back around here.

My husband and my roommates are going to a Halloween party tonight. I was invited to go along too, but I declined. It’s at a bar, which I don’t think I’m quite ready to handle. Too many people – many who’ll be in costumes (possibly with their faces obscured in some way) – and too much noise. Not to mention I’ve sworn off drinking alcohol for good. But that’s not the primary reason. The social anxiety/PTSD/feeling trapped and claustrophobic situation is.

My husband and I are going to a smaller social gathering (a bonfire) at a friend’s house tomorrow. There’s going to be drinking there. I’ll be taking my own drinks and just kicking back and enjoying the company of friends. I’m not sure how well it’ll turn out – since social situations still freak me the hell out – but we’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, I hope y’all have a wonderful day and a great weekend! See you tomorrow!

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Racing the Wind, Part 5

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Photo via VisualHunt.com

Angharad escaped her ecstatic mother, who was now in full planning mode for her daughter’s wedding. She made her way to the library. Eridan was waiting for her. “Your mother is very enthusiastic,” he said. He was staring out the window and didn’t turn around.

“Both my mother and father were worried about the Right of Inheritance. Without a husband, I can’t inherit,” Angharad. “And you’ve met my brother. He would be the one who took my place.”

“I can see why they wanted me to win,” Eridan said. He turned and settled into a chair, his face in shadow. “Angharad, what I’m going to tell you is not a pretty tale. There is a reason my servants and I left our former liege lord’s lands, and it isn’t entirely because we wished to be free of the memories.”

Angharad settled into the chair beside his. “Tell me,” she said softly.

“I am the Red Bull’s youngest son, but not by his lady wife,” Eridan said, his voice barely above a whisper. “My mother was one of the many maids in the keep. I don’t know how many bastards my father sired, but I was the only one who showed my true parentage. The Red Bull decided that if I was going to appear as his son, he was going to train me to be one.”

“I take it that didn’t go well?” Angharad asked.

Eridan shook his head. “My half brothers despised me. My stepmother had my mother murdered, and then tried to kill me on more than one occasion.” He lifted his shirt and gestured to a thin scar across his right rib cage. “This is one of the few scars I have that didn’t come from battle. It was an assassin’s knife that gave me this. When I killed him, my father decided it would be better for me to join the army. So that is where I was sent.”

“How brutal,” Angharad said.

Eridan nodded. “You must understand, Angharad. I was nearly as tall as I am now at the age of twelve. I was also as thin as a post. I had no strength to speak of. I was uncoordinated, couldn’t even lift a proper sword, and when I tried to draw back a bowstring I might get it back an inch or two and then I’d lose hold of it.”

“That is the truth for any beginner,” Angharad said. “Do you think I could shoot as well as I do now when I first started?”

“I was a lord’s son – bastard or not – and there was an expectation of a level of skill I didn’t have,” Eridan said. “I was beaten regularly, forced to work harder than anyone else, and given very little while others were rewarded with things such as finer food, extra blankets, and more comforts. I grew to hate my father, for it was on his orders that this was happening to me.”

He was shaking. Angharad hesitantly slipped her hand on top of his. He grabbed hold and squeezed it, looking at her with gratitude as she drew him back out of his memory. “You said you were an officer when you first came here,” she said.

“I was, though the Red Bull would have forbidden it if he’d been aware of it,” Eridan said. “He was never very good with my name and when I was out of his sight for a while he soon lost interest in me. When that happened, the harsh treatment lessened and I was rewarded as liberally as the others. In spite of everything, I was still a highly educated young man and I could do things most of the others couldn’t, such as read and write. I picked up on strategy, reading maps, and reckoning distances and time by the location of the stars and the position of the sun and moon.”

“Those are all very useful,” Angharad said.

Eridan nodded. “As I continued to excel, my physical strength increased almost as fast as my mental acuity. I was sixteen when I was placed in control of a small group of scouts who were primarily archers. We were the advance party. We had to see who was in front of us. We did our job well only lost two out of twenty in the two years I served as their commander. At eighteen I was given command of a group of cavalry and led them into so many battles I can no longer recall how many.”

“The Mad King lives up to his name,” Angharad said.

Eridan said. “The Red Bull never disbanded his army. He never let us go home. Even when the Mad King didn’t need him, my father used us to expand his borders. We must have seized the lands of seventeen minor lords from the time I took control of the cavalry to the time my father fell at the hands of the Mad King’s executioner.”

“I thought the Red Bull died in battle,” Angharad said.

“That’s the story my stepmother and half brothers spread as fast as they could, to preserve my father’s honor,” Eridan said. “Instead of having him known as a traitor to the kingdom. But when my father died, I took the opportunity to leave. No lord was confirmed in his place, and all soldiers enslaved by my father were freed. I considered myself as a slave to him so I took one of the Writs of Freedom and left.”

“Who are the men who travel with you?” Angharad said.

“The last two members of my original scouting squad,” Eridan said. “Poor judgment and even poorer tactics wiped out the rest of them. When they saw me seize the chance, they grabbed theirs and followed me out. It took them a bit to find me, but they caught me just as I was about to fall on my sword.”

“Why would you do that?” Angharad asked.

“Look at me, Angharad. You find no disgust with my scars, but you are a rare person in this,” Eridan said. “Others aren’t so enlightened. I was driven from every town and village, usually at the point of a weapon, after being there only for a few hours. I was a monster in their eyes. I was unable to buy food, medicine for the wounds that were festering, or fodder for my horse. We were both starving and dying. I was done. I let my horse rest in a field full of tall grass and went a short distance away. Driscoll and Comgan came up at just the right time.”

“How did they stop  you?” Angharad said.

“Comgan grabbed me and Driscoll took my sword from me,” Eridan said. “We’ve stayed together since.” He paused. “Angharad, I am not going to be an easy man to live with. I think I love you, though I’ve not had much of that in my life so I don’t know that I’d recognize the feeling. I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee I’ll always be kind to you.”

“My grandfather, who fought just as you have, didn’t always treat my grandmother and my father well,” Angharad said. “He didn’t always treat me with kindness either, and I was a small child. But he loved all of us and did all he could to make up for those days when his memories clouded his mind.”

Eridan lifted the hand he held to his lips, leaning forward. “You are an amazing woman, Angharad. Nothing like any I have ever met.”

“Here, I was encouraged to be different, and I thrived,” Angharad said.

Let’s talk social media

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Let’s talk social media. No, I’m not going to tell you all of the benefits or all of the drawbacks to it. You’ve heard all of those before and I’m sure you’ll hear all of them again. Instead I want to tell you what social media has done for me.

I am an introvert, I suffer from PTSD, and I am bipolar I. That doesn’t make it easy to be around people. I’ve always had a hard time making friends and keeping them. In fact, of all the friends I made during my high school years, there’s only one I still talk to. The ones from my college years are all gone.

I used to play in a table top RPG group. That was both fun and difficult at the same time. Fun because I could use my imagination freely. Difficult because I was around people that got really exuberant at times. Loud voices are one of my triggers so it could sometimes lead to me needing a few minutes of quiet to compose myself. A lengthy trip to the bathroom was usually my way of dealing with it. Or sitting inside while everyone else went out to smoke.

But we moved away from those friends and I became even more isolated. I was drowning in a sea of loneliness but was too anxious to do much. I tried going out with Tims but he and his friends were often loud and that didn’t help my anxiety. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Then came Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, WordPress, and Tumblr. And suddenly a whole new world opened up for me.

I met my two closest friends on Facebook – Joelle and Deborah. Joelle and I started talking when I asked a question about BDSM. Deborah and I started talking because we were in one of the same writing groups. Joelle and I now talk to each other every day through IM. Deborah and I exchange daily emails, she’s come to visit me once, and I plan on making a return visit since she’s only about two hours away from the farm.

I’ve also made a whole host of other friends, people who notice when I’m offline for a while. People who are there to talk to when I need a shoulder to cry on. If I post about my depression, they offer support. If I talk about something exciting, they’re right there to celebrate with me. They wish me a happy birthday, something my own family (other than my husband…he doesn’t forget) couldn’t even manage this year.

Social media has made it so I can socialize, have friends, and talk to people I’d certainly never have had a chance to before – such as my friends in Europe, Asia, and Australia. Hell, even in different parts of the US and Canada. I’d never have gotten to know any of you without social media.

Yes, social media can be a real time sink. It can be a distraction at the wrong moment. It can be used to bully people with impunity through anonymity. There is a dark side to it. But there is still so much good in it and I appreciate all it has done for me. And I want to thank all of you for your friendship and your care over the time we’ve known each other, as it has meant the world to me. I hope for many more years with all of you and one day to maybe even meet more of you in real life, with the ice broken because of our social media experiences.