I've hit another point where my mind has cracked a little.

It's never nice when it happens. As always, there was no one particular trigger. I didn't "snap" and start smashing things, I just hit another of those insidious, exhausting holes that my depression hands me. I can at least feel them coming, and understand that it's chemical and neurophysiological and that all I need to do is ride it out.

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Being home is nice and I feel relaxed and at-home up until a certain someone enters the premises.

When she does, the air turns cold. That sense of security you should feel within your own home disappears, rots away and is replaced by the aura of unwantedness. As a person living in his father's home, which he pays for and keeps running, to feel unwanted by his other half (thankfully not bound by marriage) is probably the worst, hurtful feeling you can experience. It hurts like hell.

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*HEADS UP - This was written days ago, sometime last week, when my mind was rolling in bad, dark stuff.*

Well, given the day before yesterday’s scare, it put things into perspective for me. Truth is, I never do admit how I’m feeling to anybody because each and every time I’ve tried to tell someone in my family that something is wrong or that I needed help, I always get insulted and / or ignored entirely.

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The more I live life, the more anxiety I feel and the further my depressen worsens. I work a job which I'm now unable to do as effectively as I once could due to certain complications that I have only just discovered and am struggling to adjust to living with. It's been easier recently, having had a little experience, but it doesn't make the fact it's never going to go away any less daunting. It's scary, but it's a unique way to live.

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Nearly gotten the Regency headcanon done.
Taking longer than I thought but I'm glad everyone's liking it.
And you're going to like this next bit.
Blighters get their comeuppance. Not all the way but it's a good start.
A little catharsis for my group members. Stay awesome everybody!

All right, readers! Welcome back after another weekend! It’s time for Being a Better Writer once more, and this week we’ve got an interesting topic that I’ve been muddling over in my mind for a while. So it’s a bit of an interesting one.

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Well, me being the birthday boy but the treat being for all of my watchers.
The very cathartic scene recently when Princess Celestia got her point across to a troublesome Countess.
Most Eloquently...

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Yeah, it's about Celestia. No, pic is not related.

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I ain't mature, I ain't smart, I ain't as humorous as younger me, I ain't a wise man, and I certainly ain't a good vocalist. However, I do my best and try what I can, even if I enter a period of very low self-loathing afterwards at the results that ensue.

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I probably have mentioned it before, and it is a topic I purposely avoid for certain reasons, but I do have dreams. Not the kind I'd like, but ones that either rub me the wrong way or they rattle an emotion deep inside of me that I try to block out. These dreams aren't nightmares, full of scary things that'll make anybody scream and want to hide in their sheets, but rather the opposite. They stir up strong anxiety instead of true fear.

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