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
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.
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?)
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
Of course my kid would choose and get accepted to a private college, out of state.
Offfffff course it would cost 40k a year. Of course. Even with the college fund and my savings – it’s a four year program. sigh (that’s after the massive scholarship).
Maybe I should learn to make penis socks.
Stand on the corner maybe? I think I’m too old to get on the pole.
I never asked my kid’s bio father for child support. Man am I kicking myself now. Kidding. Fucking that.
Even if I kick the bucket right now, my life insurance would only cover two years of school. LOL
What if I start an OnlyFans of me sitting in the backyard reading aloud nineteenth-century literature? Because really I feel like that’s all I am capable of.
To the back yard I go!
Catriona
XOXOXO
Ok. No. No, it doesn’t. And even if it did they would be unhappy when they got here.
But real talk – lookit this cup I found at the thrift store!
I think we paid $3.00 for it. I finally googled the signature after weeks of wondering where I could find another. Warmsssss my handssssssssss.
Turns out this is a piece from a company here in the US. Clay In Motion. It’s literally called the “Handwarmer Mug”. lol.
This is not paid advertising, hahah. I just realllly love this mug and they are a family owned company. We all know how I feel about that. So. Click here for their Amazon, click here for their Etsy (Don’t, go to to there actual site or Amazon. Etsy jacked their fees up so, understandably, prices are high over there), and here is their main site.
Cup for my fingers. That is all.
Catriona
XOXOXO
Yesterday, while talking to a dear friend, I was explaining what I do at work when she interrupted to say “I cannot figure out what you are made of”. Without even thinking about what she meant I blurted: “Sarcasm. I’m made of sarcasm. And caffeine. Oh and some dark clouds. It’s where I keep the lightening. And maybe a few plants. Yeah, plants.”
She laughed and said she thought maybe I was a Willow tree because I bend, but don’t ever break.
I think she gives me too much credit. She always does.
Today, speaking to my oldest friend he said to me: “You only survived me being a tornado because you were a bigger one.” I laughed so hard. Harder than I probably should have. But he was right. He only survived me because when tornadoes collide there really is no damage to the tornadoes themselves. They just rotate around one another until they eventually break free and go on their separate ways.
It’s funny how the Universe chooses to bring things to your attention.
Willow Trees & Tornadoes. That is all.
Catriona
XOXOXOX
Uh. I don’t know how I did it. I’ve literally done this process a million times.
But, I did indeed glue myself to the cat.
sigh. How is everyone else’s Saturday? LOLOL
Catriona
XOXOXO
CatrionaIsCrazy 