Author Archives: catrionaiscrazy

OK, but now in French

Has anyone ever tried to read a physical book using a “Scan and Translate” App? No? Well, fuck. Guess we are going to find out how annoying *that* is. Hahaha.

A dear friend of mine wrote a book of her life and it happens to be in French. I’d been holding off on buying it. I have been trying to figure out how to get it in English as I am, sadly, only fluent in one language (two if you count sarcasm). She and I suck at communicating through E-mail, hahhahah (You get my E-mails yet? I have sent you all means of contact, lol). Anywayyyyy now I have a French book headed to my non-French home. BAHAHA. We are going to see how much gets lost in translation, hahaha.

I mean really this is my fault. I keep meaning to learn, and become fluent in, another language . BUT I CANNOT MAKE UP MY MIND WHICH ONE! It’s an important decision. I mean, I don’t want to waste what few brain cells I have left on the wrong one! lol. French is very high on the list. It’s in the top 3. I mean, also, I don’t even have time to brush my hair so learning a new language seems impossible.

In a surprising turn of evens my phone has told me to kick rocks and refuses to download google translate. BAHAHA. Stayed tuned for how much French kicks my ass. LOL.

I just keep thinking I need to figure out which country I want to be in once my kid graduates, because really that will dictate which language I stress my brain out with, cuzz you know, I’m getting old.

OK! I am off to day drink (keep your pants on, it’s regular drinking for me cuzz I work the night shift) and eat snacks.

Catriona

xoxoxo

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Droping hints

For my birthday a few years ago my kid and my wife got me thirsty stone coasters. They were fitting because they had little sayings on them that sounded JUST like the things I tell (read “would yell at”) my family.

two days in a row I have found that the one I keep under my water on my bedside table has been placed on my sides of the bed. .

Think she’s trying to tell me something? hahahaha. I’m dead.

Guess I need to check in with my wife. BAHAHAHAHA!!!

Catriona

xoxoxox

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I lost grip of my PTSD.

I had that bitch head locked for about 3 years. I pinned her to a wall and was in control for a while.

You know what happens when you shove something intelligent in a box? It evolves to release it self. Don’t ever underestimate how intelligent PTSD is.

I lost grip of her several months back. Ok, over 6 months back.

I knew it was happening; My plants were dying. My house wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t clean. I was working harder and sleeping less. I was taking on more and juggling it all to fill the spaces PTSD wanted to occupy. I was forcing interaction. But my PLANTS. lol. I usually live in a forest. They are all just about dead.

Now I’m strategically avoiding all unnecessary interaction without a thought. I realized today just how bad it was.

PTSD, or Pansy, for those who have been with me for a while has evolved. While she is not as aggressively loud and obnoxious in random intervals as she used to be, she is constant now, albeit a dull roar. I’m actually not even sure which is worse.

I worked 16 day straight just to shut her the fuck up. And now because I’m a good lead, I gave away a day of my overtime (today) for one of my dispatchers who needed it. So, first day off in 16 days and I’m sitting here alone in my house staring at my responsibilities. They are staring back.

I just want to build a cabin in the middle of the woods and lose my mind in peace. However, I can’t keep track of my family that way so, here we have the problem. lol. I’m fully aware that the Universe built my kid to be the anchor that keeps me in check. Backfired though. Because, the thing that would be released should my kid be removed from this world would be unimaginable.

I’m supposed to be flying into town in the beginning of September to help my brother with our Mom and I don’t even know how to fake being put together at the moment. I am just hoping they will both be too occupied with the fact that Mom is actually dying from Cancer now to notice my undoing. I don’t even have my ticket yet, that’s how much of a grip I have. Well, to be fair it was so fucking expensive that I almost fell out of my chair when I went to book it. I was hoping the closer I get it would go down in price. I was also hoping the sky would fall and I wouldn’t be able to go – how fuck up is that? Yeah. I know.

The check engine light was late and I knew it.

Catriona

XOXOX

Tagged , , , , , ,

Bread & Open Diary

Trigger Warning – all the suicide

A few months ago I was excited-mortified to find that Open Diary had been resurrected like a pet long buried in the yard of your childhood apartment complex . Like, do we even know that’s our pet? Everyone buried their pets there, you know? Fluffy? FLUFFY IS THAT YOU? I’m tired can you tell?

I had been writing in Open Diary since middle school. No joke. I wrote very day. Even if it was just tell tell the world to fuck off. I used it as an outlet for my anger. When my first wife started to go into leftfield I used it heavily to keep my head on straight. And then when she spiraled and I followed her down the rabbit hole, well, I used it to keep record of things because my brain was melting from the stress. In 2014 Open Diary shut down much to my disappointment, it was the only constant thing in my life. LOL. I downloaded my entries and put them away. My wife went on to kill herself, twice. I went on to completely lose my face (before, during and long after). After was all said and done I was completed messed up, lol, as we all know (if you don’t just take a look around, you will get the idea). I shoved anything that could remind me, hurt me, bring me back to that time right into the trash. I abandoned e-mails, sites, life.

Time went on and to my own surprise my brain started to heal. It only took 4 fucking years. Prior to then, I couldn’t allow my brain to even peek at that area of my brain without all hell breaking lose for unpredictable amounts of time. As time has gone on I have slowly, very very slowly, doubled back to some things. But, when I read the Open Diary was back online AND had preserved all old account entries – I was a deer in headlights.

About a week later I yelled at myself and made myself go try to reclaim the account. I was relieved when it wouldn’t let me in. LOL. I threw my hands up and forgot about it. I didn’t forget, my brain was cowering in the corner. About 2 months later I scolded myself enough to slink back over to the site and read up on reclaiming accounts. It basically said if you didn’t know the password or still have the E-mail you were shit out of luck as they needed poof of ownership. I didn’t have either of those things. But, I thought “Oh, I can prove who I am. Most of my entries were private and I did not hold back.” So I emailed them with some things I just knew would identify me. I think this is the only time being twisted worked to my advantage. HAHAHAHA. I didn’t get a response. So I thought: “Ok. Then maybe I just shouldn’t revisit all that” and I moved on satisfied that I tried.

But you KNOW that’s not where it ends because that’s not how the Universe does things when it comes to me. LOL. Fast forward about a month or so, I’m on vacation bangin’ through the woods having a great ol’ time when my phone alerts me to an E-mail. Guess who? Open Diary wanted to let me know they verified the information I provided and I now had full access to my old account. Great timing Universe, as per usual. LMAO. I took a mental note that that would be a bad idea, and forgot about it until just now; I was fucking around the house ignoring the chores I need to do when I remember that I was able to log in. So, I while I wait for the bread to bake (Have you ever made Peasant Bread??? It’s FUCKING AMAZING), I signed in and gave it permission to upload 15 years worth of my brain from the server. Just Now as I write this it finished uploading everything in the new interface. Oh man, this was my last entry:

“Fuck it, here it is.

The situation that I was talking about was this: 

She got smashed and attacked me. Punching, BITING, attacked me. I had to fucking hold her down. She was trying to torture me but was too drunk to pull it completely off.

For those of you who don’t already know, I’m a little over 100lb and 5’4. She’s 5’6 about 166lb..seeing the point here?

The thing is, I’ve seen her drink waaaaaay more than she did that night (several times) and never be like this. It was fucking crazy. I was afraid to go to sleep. Then two days later, even AFTER I showed her the videos (oh yes I took videos, so she couldn’t tell me I was lying) she was drinking again. She’s made a rule that no more than 6 beers can/will be in the house at a time but COME THE FUCK ON. YOU ATTACK ME, THEN JUST KEEP ON DRINKIN’? YEAH FUCK RIGHT OFF.”

That was June 30th 2012.

I didn’t even remember this until now. I guess that must have been around the time I shut down completely because I didn’t write again until they announced in 2014 the site was going down and only then I just simply wrote my E-mail address for my readers to find me.

Well I think Imma eat this bread and be done with the internet for a while. LOL.

Anyone else use Open Diary back in the day?

xoxoxo

Catriona

Disclaimer for those who have not been with me though all of this: My first wife had a very serious mental illness. One that we and her Doctors were trying to identify for a very long time, years. Things had spiraled out long before this. I was well versed in all that entailed being main caregiver to someone who was literally coming undone. It wasn’t her fault, for the most part. I was just tired, angry, and losing hope.

Tagged , , , , , ,

Suck my Prius

I own an obnoxiously colored older Toyota Prius. Seriously. We chose the car make, model, and year based on the fact that the kid would be driving it. The safety ratings were amazing – basically the little car turns into a little bubble on impact. The gas mileage was the other thing. I fully intended to give the car to my kid for college and since I am requesting no job the first year, I am footing the bill for gas. lol.

We bought the car with a lot of miles on it. I didn’t care because it was just meant to be the Kid’s first car, and everything that we read said that a prius would last longer than the average car so I wasn’t worried. It wasn’t expensive. Again, it was just supposed to the the family car for my mini me to learn how to drive and then I’d give the car to the kid and get one we really wanted….

But after this road Trip — I don’t know if I can give it up! Hahahah this thing handled my wife’s heavy foot, HEAVVVVY FOOT, climbed mountain roads (looking back were suchhhh a bad idea). It banged through several rocky parks and remote areas. We drove from Florida to South Carolina, then to camp in the Great Smokey Mountains. From there we went all the way through TN, down to New Orleans, on to New Mexico and the Arizona. Keep in mind we stopped in several towns in each state all within a two week time frame. We beat the crap out of this little car and it never once let us down. We then turned around and drove back. This thing is a machine. I can’t tell you how impressed I am. I may, no I probably will, buy another Prius. Plus. I cannot tell you how amusing it is to watch the wife speed by sports cars in a obnoxious tiny car yelling “SUCK MY PRIUS!” when someone fliped her off. BAHAHHAA.

I will have an entry coming about the trip coming soon. Getting back to work and such was harder than I thought it was going to be. lol. Check out my Twitter and Facebook for a few photos and such. I was live updating there.

xoxoxo

Catriona

Tagged , , , , ,

Potty Mouth

I have received some, um. Interesting responses to my blog in the last 10 years. But, I have never been told to watch my mouth when it came to writing in my own blogs/websites/media. lol. With that being said when I respond or interact with people on their media I don’t generally swear. You know, respect of their space and all that.

I have a close friend that reads my stuff here and there. He came across a short conversation that happened in my comments and just now it came up that he left I was too “rough” with my response. I can take constructive criticism so I asked him why. He explained that maybe this person was an “Old Timer trying to make you better and you bit his head off”…. Now, while I value this person’s opinion – you know what? Let us do this – what do YOU think?

So, let me have it. I can take it. Was my response too harsh? Was he “trying to make me better” and I responded too harshly?

Was I a dick for asking him if he likes penis socks?

Tell me all the things.

Catriona

xoxoxox

Tagged , , ,

I’m guilty

…….I watch a lot of tiktok. …….eeekkkk I know. I know. LOL

But I do. I’m a people watcher, we know this. Tiktok is useful to a point for people watching. And ART. oh the Art. These are two of my favorite things: Art and people watching. I mean really people are Art. Really fucked up Art for the most part. But. Art.

Really what interests me are people’s stories, so when I can’t sleep or when my PTSD rears it’s really fucked up head I run away to other people’s thoughts. Also – Did you know Lindsey Stirling does lives and plays on request on Tiktok? She’s playing live right now and I cannot get enough.

On tiktok there are so many people finding out through 23andme that the parents they grew up with aren’t their biological parents. Some of these stories are heartbreaking. Most of these stories are heartbreaking. You know, stories of people finding out they were switched at birth, finding out their dad wasn’t their dad or their mom wasn’t their mom, and how horribly awful it made everyone involved feel. Annnnnnnd all I can think is: Damnit, I took that damn test so that it would show me that I was switched at birth and my birth parents weren’t my birth parents, why couldn’t this happen to me. lol. I know that’s nuts, but my parents spent the time they had with me showing me, for the most part, that they didn’t want me. I am pretty sure I was the black sheep as a baby. lol.

23andme didn’t show I had been switched at birth, by the way. lol. I mean, really, it didn’t show me anything. Apparently both sides of my biological family don’t use 23andme Hahaha.

I think even if my biological parents turned out to be cereal killers I would have been ok with that. My mom wanted a baby, I was just the wrong baby. My dad wanted a son, but never the responsibility. Turns out I’m not a boy. Maybe this is where I grew the black wool?

I guess I need to do laundry and clean up the bubble mess I definitely didn’t make in the kitchen by using the wrong automatic dishwasher detergent. bahahah

xoxoxo

Catriona

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Tell me about your Country

I’m in the US and I’m fearful.

We have uteruses.

We are gay.

My child will be directly effected if the US decides to “revisit” gay & trans laws.

I am absolutely at a loss. Next month we were to take a family road trip through several states to see which state we liked the best that is not the one we are currently in, look at colleges, and avoids US boarders. But, now what do I do? Do I instead nix that idea and save my money to find another country? If it were just me I would literally pack a bag, leave and figure it out when I got there. But I have a family, an elderly dog.

So tell me about your Country. Tell me about the laws you know of. Tell me how beautiful it is. Or, warn me about your Country and tell me why.

I’m currently doing research, but I need your input. AND GO!

Catriona

xoxoxo

(C. Where you at?)

Tagged , , , , , , , ,

I noticed

Yeah, I did. It didn’t surprise me.

I knew as soon as I added verbiage that revealed I had a wife not a husband even my long time followers would drop off. I lost people that I had conversated with often all because my person was not the gender seen appropriate to you.

Originally when I started writing 10 years ago —- 10 YEARS AGO, whoa. I was concerned for privacy, I had a young child and a mentally unwell partner. We couldn’t afford any type of a hate crime. I was pulling us forward by strings and any loss or injury to one of us would have sent us all spiraling — as my followers close friends witnessed when my wife committed suicide. I had us packed tightly and safely in this little bubble for a long time. No rainbows. No new friends. Nothing that could put us in the spotlight.

I had always thought I’d reveal more about my life (here) as a sort of social experiment later in life. See who reacted and how. I’ve always been a people watcher, it’s interesting you know? But that all fell to the side when my wife fell apart and I couldn’t catch her. After she left I did more than spiral. The only thing that I could muster was to keep my child’s world stable. Everything else mental, behind the scenes, mine – it suffered, and I outed myself when my kid was no longer a young child. Then, recently I have been more verbal because that same kid is 18 and I was mentally ready to deal with the digital shenanigans that comes with being openly different in a world with no genuine tolerance.

So. Just so you know I noticed the ones that immediately left. I noticed the ones that stuck around to make sure it wasn’t a phase and to quote a message I received “would finally find God”. lol I saw it all.

You know what else I saw? The hate in a CNA’s eyes when she asked me if what she heard was correct and I had a wife. The look deepen when I turned to give her my full attention and answer her. The look I couldn’t put my finger on till later when she said “They put them to death with stones where I come from”. Instead of getting upset I asked her to tell me more. I could see the wheels turning. Her eyes softened when I listened and took it all in. I then saw something I recognized. I thanked her for sharing with me. I noticed the bewilderment.

A week later I saw her again and she hurried towards me. The same person who stepped back when I told her my child was raised by two woman, she rushed at me and grabbed my arm. She pulled me to the side and asked me if it would be ok if she asked me some questions. I thought she meant about the patient I was caring for. She asked me every question she could think of about lesbians and gay people. I answered every one as honestly as I could. She told me she wasn’t supposed to speak to gay people; Her culture saw that in the same way they saw actual gay people. I told her that I understood and would answer any questions she had in any way she needed. I never once said a negative word about the culture that hated me so much. I simply thanked her for educating me.

She went on to catch me a few more times openly in the hospital and asked me more questions. Each time becoming more and more friendly.

I moved to the overnight shift and thought about her once in a while. We worked opposite shifts and I hadn’t seen her for months until a few weeks ago. I saw her walking quickly towards me. I smiled through my mask and had the intention of walking by her with a little head nod adhering to our previous encounters in openly public areas. Only this time she RUSHED at me full force and pulled me into a hug loudly demanding to know where I had been, in the café of a busy hospital. I don’t think I ever smiled so big.

last week I saw her again from afar. She was sporting a hair cut that is not common for someone in her culture. It’s a hair cut I see often in my community. I walked up to her to say hi and received the same welcome as last time, same busy café, same huge hug. I immediately expressed how much I loved her hair and she gave me that look, you know the one, smiled and hugged me again. All because I noticed through the hate.

So, to all of you who have walked away because of who I choose to make my person: CatrionaIsCrazy@gmail.com any day, any time.

Also, Fuck Mondays.

Catriona

XOXOXOX

Tagged , , , , , , ,

My check engine light is on

I’ve hit a wall.

I am a firm believer that when you or your family hit a wall you move the wall. Break it, blow that shit up, you do whatever you need to. Hitting a wall is just a pause or a warning. You reevaluate. You move the wall.

I’m burned out. I pushed hard when we got hit with Covid. I pushed harder than I have ever pushed to make sure I could take care of my family. People were losing jobs, told to go home all over the world. I was not going to be one of them. People were losing their homes or living on borrowed time because they couldn’t pay their rent. It was only a matter of time for them. Healthcare professionals were being sent home in droves, or sent into forced early retirement. It was bonkers. That was not going to happen to us. I pushed. I moved up twice. I took on Covid from the beginning even when we didn’t know what we were working with because my coworkers were just kids. Scared kids. I headed the covid “Team” because I wasn’t scared (not in the way everyone else was). I knew scared people make mistakes. All it would have taken was one scared kid making a mistake and taking out the entire team. In in beginning, even highly trained professionals were breaking under pressure, so it had to be me. So, I did it. Every day until I couldn’t. For over a year I was one of two that responded to EVERY Covid patient. I was the one that directed how we handled things. It was the only thing I could do to help. I ended up with my own team, and then my own shift. I moved the wall more times than I can explain to you. I’m tired now. I’m a workaholic and for the first time in my life I need a break. Even when I’m sick I don’t sit down. I need to sit the fuck down. (Click here if you are new here – might help. lol)

I just explained it to my other half like this: “My check engine light is on. You know the one that comes on even when everything seems fine, but you know that it’s only a matter of time before everything comes to a full stop? Yeah. That. My check engine light is on.”

I have to change courses and slow down. Maybe the new trash human taking over as Supervisor is the Universe intervening. Horrible timing tho, wtf Universe. Braces and college, hello?

So, back to the drawing board. Working on some passive income so I can slow down at work. Or, you know, if that fails I will be that 40 year old on the pole at your local dance club. Hahahahah.

Off to ignore the laundry on my bed.

Catriona

XOXOXO

Tagged , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: