That Look They Give You. 

I saw the #metoo posts all over FB this morning, and I when I realized what it was, my heart broke.

I debated on putting up my own post, but I was reluctant. Everytime a female calls out the abuse, they get questioned. Or seen as wanting attention. But I knew I needed to do it. Because the more voices we have calling out this shit, the better our chances to fixing it.

So, here’s my story:

My earliest memory of sexual assault was when I was 10. I was at school, and a boy decided to poke my vagina with a pencil. I’m sitting in class, teacher stepped out, he says ‘This is where a penis goes’ and pokes me. I laughed it off, just like everyone else around me. I was mortified. I didn’t know what to do.

I have been in several situations like this, and I would just laugh it off.

Another significant time was in highschool. I had a guy grab my breast. I slapped him, and he slapped me back. When I told the principal about it, she looked at me like I was lying. She questioned me and looked at camera footage. We weren’t in view of the camera, so therefore she wasn’t going to do anything. This guy was a known troublemaker. I get that I could have been making it up, but she wasn’t even going to question him. Luckily, a friend of mine witnessed the whole thing. The guy was suspended for a couple of days.

Then there were boyfriends. Boyfriends that forced me to do things. Boyfriends that hit me. One, in particular, made me feel like I was the problem. He would cheat on me, and then blame me for it. He would hold me down or against the wall until I would give in to his demands. It was a fucking game to him.

Now, I know what you are thinking. You are giving me that look.

 Why in the name of fuck did I stay? Why did I put up with it?

Part of it was the way I was raised. I saw abuse in my own family. I saw submission. I saw men cheating, and it being acceptable because ‘that’s what men do’. I saw my relationship as normal. I thought that it was as good as it was going to get.
Another part of it was the stigma. Growing up, girls who spoke up about abuse were considered liars. They were just wanting attention. So, I kept my mouth shut.

I have been sexually assaulted at the workplace. Lewd comments have been made to me. Guys that would harass me for my phone number. One guy grabbed my head while I was bending over, and shoved himself in my face. One guy rubbed himself on me while walking pass. Some of them were coworkers. Some of them supervisors.

The sad thing? The situations I have listed isn’t even half of what I have experienced. You feel so dirty when it happens. Or like someone has just exposed your vulnerability. Its one of the worst feelings in the world. You feel like it’s your fault. Because I was told since day one that women who dress a certain way, ask for it. Women who put themselves in dangerous situations, ask for it.

I try not to think about what has happened to me. When I speak about my experiences, it’s hard. Its like showing off a nasty scar. My family doesn’t ask me about it. Not once have they asked me. They think I’m making it up or you just don’t talk about that kind of stuff.

 Fuck that.

It was never my fault. I should have never been slut-shamed for it. I should have never had to put up with guys touching me. I should have never had to deal with an abused boyfriend. I should never have felt pressured into sexual acts. No one should never have to deal with this! We should never feel like we have to protect our bodies 24/7. We aren’t objects. We must stop sexual assault. We must hold people accountable for their actions.

I have to keep telling myself, that I’m strong. This doesn’t define me as a person.

 

 

I’m a strong woman.

 

 

Hear me fucking roar.
-E.

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Roller Coaster Ride

So, I’m in a new place. Just bought my first house. No more noisy neighbors. I now have crazy neighbors, but, hey, at least they are quiet.

 

When they aren’t screaming at me because I parked kind of in front of their house.

….It’s off street parking….

ANYWAY.

On the flip side, I won a Super Nintendo Classic exactly when my neighbors were being crazy.

This kind of describes my fucking week.

I really want just one week. Just one. Where I lay in bed, and do nothing. Just absolutely nothing. That is my dream. Something so simple, and I will never be able to do that.

I have mentioned before I have mini existential crises peppered throughout my days. This is brought on by the fact that I don’t want to waste time. To waste time is to welcome death just a little bit closer. I know it sounds dramatic, but I feel pressured to being productive all the time. I feel like no matter what I do, I never do enough. I will never be enough.

I have had multiple people tell me, including my therapist and doctor, that I need to chill. This stress of needing to do something all the time is effecting me physically. It’s hard for me to grasp that. To relax, to me, is to be lazy. If I sleep until 11 or noon on my days off, I feel horrible.

This is just another facet of my depression. It’s just a different kind of dark, gross, pressure that just crawls in and sticks to mind like a parasite.

I do try to cope with video games and other hobbies that I have, but I’m conditioned to constantly do something. To constantly move. I need to get a grip, I know.

I’m slowly pulling out the roots that have dug deep into my head.

On the other hand, I have a lot more space now. I have my own safe haven. I have a quiet place to write, and hopefully, get some new projects underway.

-E.

It’s Time For Animanics! 

I remember renting this game as a kid, and getting so pissed off every time I played it.

Seriously, this game is so damn hard.

But I want to reflect on this game because it is a piece of my childhood. Like many kids growing up in the 90s, I watched Animaniacs all the time. I still have my Wakko and Dot plushies from Six Flags.

After I had rented this game a couple of times, my parents bought the game for me. This is how I played the game:
 I play for a few minutes, get mad, ask my mom to beat the water/pirate level, play for a few more minutes, get mad, ask mom to beat another level, she can’t because she can only beat the water/pirate level supposedly, I cry, I turn the game off.

The execution of the game is what is so terrible. The platforming is far from polished. You can die easily from a small misstep or not knowing where to go or what to do. When you lose one of the characters, you have to go to the WB tower and rescue via a map you use in between stages.

Getting characters back is such a chore, and can be difficult all on it’s own. However there are a few things I find appealing. The level themes are fantastic.

Each level represents a different genre. For example, the Sci-Fi studio has creatures that resemble ‘face huggers’ from Alien. The graphics are great for the era, and it looks like a fun game.

But it’s not. It’s brutal.

I have such a love/hate relationship with this game. This game was stolen from me when I was a kid, and I mourned over it. I finally found a copy for cheap years later. I was so excited, but I learned that nostalgia can be a harsh mistress.

If you like punishment, I recommend this game.

If you like fun, just watch the show.
-E.

Blue or Red Pill? (Enter The Matrix)

I absolutely LOVE The Matrix. I remember when it first came out in 1999. Everyone was talking about it. And every idiot I came into contact with said it was the most confusing movie they ever seen.

So, my 8 year old self prepared mentally. My parents rented it, and let us watch it (because violence is okay, but sex isn’t).

I fell in love with it. And I went to school telling people how stupid they were for not understanding it.

Yes, I was that kid with no filter.

I received Enter The Matrix as a Christmas present on the PS2. This was one of my favorite games from my childhood. I played it so much, I could only play Niobe’s campaign. That’s how scratched up my game disc was.

The cut scenes in the game was live-action that were filmed for the game. You can, also, play as Ghost or Niobe; which have different cut scenes for each campaign.

There was even a ‘hack mode’ for you to input cheat codes.

Mind you, this game isn’t great. I picked it back up on GameCube for 5 dollars. I tried playing through it, and the experience was so different from when I was a kid.
But Goddamn, The Matrix was awesome.

Rule Of Rose Video Game Collection Pt. 9 

If you have never heard of this game, don’t need surprised. The reason why is because there were only 150,000 copies sold in the United States before they decided to pull it off the shelves. The reason being due to the sexual and physical abuse happening to children. Now, mind you, the game never shows sexual abuse. And the physical abuse is bullying by a group of children. However, the game has heavy symbolism referring to these subjects.

This was introduced to me via a friend. Calling this game weird is an understatement. It is a psychological horror game where you control Jennifer. Jennifer arrives at a boarding school, and is faced with a group of girls called the Red Crayon Aristocrats Club. They torture Jennifer by burying her alive, putting her in a bag and dropping bugs in it, etc.

I’m definitely intrigued when it comes to horror games. I love the genre, and this is the most interesting horror game I have ever played.

It’s fucked up. I mean, really. It deals with the most taboo subjects in our society, and shows it in a subtle way. In no way does it glorify it. Honestly, I think it’s trying to show the player what child victims go through.

One character comes to mind in the game. The Mermaid Princess.

See what I mean?

But these are the kind of symbolism you see in the game. Suicide, abuse, helplessness. I feel if you have been through a tramuatic experience in your life, don’t play this game.

However, my experience playing it, I have enjoyed it. The combat is god awful, but the story is so compelling. It’s a convincing story of hurt, and how individuals perceive it and cope with it.

If any, just watch the cut scenes from the game on YouTube.

It will probably give you a chill.
-E.

Escaping Reality

The past week has been tough. Absolutely rough. Life is just fucking me over right now. I’m trying to not be a negative Nancy, which is so hard for me to do.

Good news is that it was therapy week. One thing that stuck with me during this session was my inability to be in the moment. When discussing this idea with my therapist it seemed I didn’t know how to do that. I don’t actively stop and smell the flowers. I worry about the future; I never look at the present to reflect. Then she pointed how that I do, in a way, celebrate the present. I don’t worry about anything, I just enjoy the moment.

I do this through walking, writing, cleaning, etc. But what really stuck out was video games.

Lately, I have been playing Persona 5. For those who don’t know, it takes 100 hours to beat. Not to mention even longer if you want to be a completionist. On top of that, it’s a JRPG (Japanese role playing game). It’s a complex, story-driven game that is just amazing.

I hate JRPGS, but I love this game.

The role that this game has in my life is giving me a door to escape to. I can immerse myself into it, and just enjoy the moment. All this time I had been stopping to appreciate life. Just not consciously.

I have had so many people tell me I’m wasting time playing video games. That’s it’s childish. It makes me feel horrible, like I have to be productive all the time.

These days, I stop myself from thinking that way. The same people that tell me I waste my time sit in front of their television; mindlessly watching. The hypocrisy is there.

Escaping into a video game helps me cope. To forget, at the least, of the issues I deal with.

On top of that, I’m an adult. I don’t feel like it because I’m constantly treated like I’m not. I’m almost 26, and I still am told what I should and should not be doing.

Last time I checked, I have a full time job, able to pay all my bills, and have goals in my life.

If video games are a waste of time, so be it. But they have always and will continue to get me through the day.
-E.

‘Wouldn’t It Be Better If it All Just Blew Away?’ – Mike Wazowski

I’m a day behind. With everything going on in my life, I didn’t have one thought about my blog yesterday. I have so much in my personal life going on, such as buying a house, and my on going journey to conquer my depression. And what’s worse, today I really don’t feel like writing anything.

I have this horrible cycle I go through. Something will happen, something small. It could be a slight on social media or some asshole in traffic. I just get triggered. It just oozes into my daily life, and I feel completely useless.

I feel like my blog is useless. I feel like my novel is useless. I feel like everything I do is useless.

I’m not trying to be ‘Oh, woe is me.’ It’s how I really feel. So why the hell am I writing today if I don’t feel like it?

I have to push myself. I have to think that someone is reading this and getting something out of it. I have to think that my novel will be finished one day. I have to persevere through this.

Now, the nihilist in me feels like this is pointless. No matter what I do, it’s not really going to change anything. That if I died tomorrow, no one will be affected. We all die, and we are all forgotten about eventually.

It’s not the depression talking, it’s just my perspective. I feel like it’s realistic. People that work so hard to have this legacy after they die are foolish. Legacies don’t last. They never do. That’s just, you know, life.

This duality is hard to curb. Especially when you have a indifferent nihilistic perspective, then you have a depressive nihilistic perspective that sucks away your willpower.

I will never be a positive person. Never. Can’t do it. I feel like I’m not positive because I’ve been fucked over by life so much.

So the best I can do is just keep pushing through it.

E.

Follow me on Twitter: @earthhboundgirl

Follow me on Instagram: @earthboundgirlx

 

For The Love of Video Games. 

To be a little more positive, I’m starting a series involving my video game collection. Each week, I’m going to showcase a piece of my collection, and what it means to me.
Video game collecting has been a passion of mine. The thrill of finding a game that you have been wanting for years is one of the best feelings. I collect because I enjoy video games. Yes, some do have value, but that’s not why I collect.

When it comes to my struggle with depression, video games give me an out. Only for a limited time, I can immerse myself into a different world. It doesn’t heal me, by any means. It keeps it at bay.

So, my first piece is my Earthbound collection. This is very dear to me because it was the first game I bought when I decided to be serious about collecting video games. This game is such a hidden gem on the Super Nintendo. It’s so original. I laugh at this game constantly, and you really never know what’s going to happen next.

I’ll be doing my regular blog about mental health still each week.

Stay tuned.
-E.

Paranoid Android

 

Symptoms:

Sweating excessively

Stumbling over words

Skin becoming red/blotchy

Hands shaking

Heart Palpitations

Head Aches

Low energy

 

These are all symptoms of my anxiety, and this is just some of them.

 

Last Night….

I live in the middle apartment of a 6 apartment complex. I heard noise from all sides. So, there was very loud music above me. I was home alone. We have a quiet hours policy; 9 on the weekdays, 10 on the weekends.

It was past 9. This isn’t the first time this has happened with the above apartment. They woke me up once, granted, months ago with their loud TV. I took a broom and banged on the ceiling out of frustration of being woken up in the middle of the damn night (I get up at 4AM for work).

My anxiety kicked in. We put up with their loud music, TV, exercising equipment, etc. and I had it. I started to sweat, my heart started pounding, my head started to hurt. My body was shutting down. When this happens, it is so hard to function. I don’t know how I get through work, honestly. So, I sat there for a minute, just hoping they would stop.

It didn’t.

So, I called Dillon (my significant other). He is my lifeline. He is the only person I’m 100% real with. I don’t have to worry about embarrassing myself, and I’m not afraid to ask him anything. He tried to calm me down, “I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” (He works nights).

So, I think ‘Okay, we will get this figured out.’

But, part of me, was like ‘No, this is so disrespectful. Maybe they don’t know how loud they are, maybe they don’t care. Regardless, they need to know.’

So, I took the broom and banged on the ceiling. Twice.

Nothing.

I go towards my front door, and I can hear the music very clearly. It sounds like their door is open. I heard girls giggling. This goes on for several minutes, then the door closes.

I put my house shoes on and marched up the stairs.

Let me pause for a moment.

I have been told, and it’s true, people are intimidated by me.  Why? I present myself in a very mature way. People think I’m confident, people think I’m vain, people think I’m a bitch. Let’s just say it. People think I’m a bitch. Not just strangers, but past friends and family members think that of me.

I’m the complete opposite.

Holy shit.

I have no confidence. I don’t think I’m pretty, I really struggle with my self-esteem. As a result, I used to cut myself. I felt like I needed to punish myself for being ugly. But on top of that, I never dressed in a conventional manner. I was the alternative kid. I’m still alternative.

Give me an old pair of chucks, and a leather jacket ANYDAY over a colorful dress.

I really don’t like color. Most of my wardrobe is black. I love it.

 ANYWAY

This intimidation has really crippled me before. Especially, as a woman, men feel threatened by me. Not only because of my demeanor, but I don’t put up with shit.

Once I grab on to something, I’m not letting it go till I’m ready to.

 

So Back to Last night

I knocked on their door, with Dillon still on the phone, mind you.

A man opens the door.

He was young, probably around my age.
I simply said “Hi, could you please turn your music down? It’s really loud in my apartment.”

He looked taken back. His eyes were a little wide.

“Oh, sure.”

I thanked him and went back into my apartment.

Dillon was like ‘Did you just go up there..?’

 

‘Yep.’

 

Now, you would think I would feel better because I confronted my problem. I overcame my anxiety, even with my heart pounding, and faced it.

 

Nope.

 

I was worse after the fact. I had the symptoms listed at the top. Times ten. I was trying to take deep breaths, I tried listening to soft music, etc.

 

Nothing worked.

 

I took my anxiety medicine. It took over an hour to kick in. That’s the kicker with my medicine, it will hit me between 5-60 minutes. And it hits me hard. I have to sleep after I take it.

 

But the one symptom I didn’t mention:

 

Paranoia.

 

This is the worst symptom because it triggers the other symptoms. I am so worried about every word that comes out of my mouth. I’m worried about how I walk, how I pass someone (Do I look at them or no?), greeting someone, just holding a conversation. I am so paranoid I’m going to get embarrassed.

Even if I don’t do anything weird, I still think about it.

 

So now, I’m worried about how our neighbors are going to react to us. To sum up my thoughts: ‘Do they think I’m a bitch?’

I’m so afraid this is going to have consequences. I’m thinking of the extreme: Are we going to get evicted? Are they going to play their music louder now?

I’m getting anxious just thinking about it.

 

This is just a facet of the problems I have because of my mental illnesses.

 

I have to keep pushing through though. If I don’t build myself up, I’m going to get to a point where I will never leave my apartment or just be able to drive to the grocery store.

 

I know for a fact my anxiety has gotten worse in the past couple of months. But I gotta keep fighting.

 

Oh, and yes, they turned down their music immediately.

 

-E.

You Never Know

So, my days are usually run of the mill; I got to work, come home, have my existential crisis, then clean, play video games, etc. 

Today was run of the mill, but something happened that really hit home.

I live in an apartment and we have a detached garage. There is a small alley to said garage. Today, I was met with several police cars, police tape, and fire trucks. I had no idea what the hell was going on. I just knew I was frustrated that I couldn’t get through the alley to my garage.

Later, we were informed of what had happened. A patient from a mental health facility near by, had walked down the alley, and got into a car. There are several cars that have been totalled that sit behind an auto shop. Right across from my garage. According to our source, the guy ‘blew himself up’. We later gathered that he tried to set himself on fire. From what I know he is in the hospital, and no one else was hurt. 

The guy was suffering from schizophrenia.

I don’t suffer from schizophrenia. I can’t imagine what it’s like. I think I have it bad with depression/anixety, but I really shouldn’t complain.

Hearing this at first didn’t really bother me. I thought it was fucked up, but it didn’t effect me directly.

Until I heard Dillon say something about ashes being back there. To me, it was like a grave. A horrible event happened, and those ashes were proof. 

I don’t want to park in the garage anymore. Hell, I’m moving and I have one more week here; might as well park on the street. I don’t want to walk by it, or anything. Its like a haunted house to me. Just an omen to stay away from. But I can’t help, but wonder what was going on in his head at the time. But more importantly, what could we do to save people like him? 

It’s a sad situation. People with a mental illness have been treated horribly, and only recently things have improved. Hell, this man wouldn’t be treated for his illness, but treated as someone who was demon possessed or some stupid shit. 

I just hope the situation gets better.
-E.