Welcome Home (Sanitarium)

This song seems so apropos for the mood of the day…

Songwriters: HETFIELD JAMES ALAN / ULRICH LARS / HAMMETT KIRK L
WELCOME HOME(SANITARIUM) lyrics © Creeping Death Music

“Welcome to where time stands still
No one leaves and no one will
Moon is full, never seems to change
Just labelled mentally deranged

Dream the same thing every night
I see our freedom in my sight
No locked doors, No windows barred
No things to make my brain seem scarred

Sleep my friend and you will see
That dream is my reality
They keep me locked up in this cage
Can’t they see it’s why my brain says Rage

Sanitarium, leave me be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone

Build my fear of what’s out there
And cannot breathe the open air
Whisper things into my brain
Assuring me that I’m insane

They think our heads are in their hands
But violent use brings violent plans
Keep him tied, it makes him well
He’s getting better, can’t you tell?

No more can they keep us in
Listen, damn it, we will win
They see it right, they see it well
But they think this saves us from our Hell

Sanitarium, leave me be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone
Sanitarium, just leave me alone

Fear of living on
Natives getting restless now
Mutiny in the air
Got some death to do
Mirror stares back hard
Kill, it’s such a friendly word
Seems the only way
Of reaching out again.”

Metallica – Welcome Home (Sanitarium)

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Hurt

“Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.” ― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

It’s funny the things that can trigger memories and bring them to the fore.

A song. A word. An action.

Sometimes the memories are incredible. My friends and I on the beach. Sun glinting in my eyes, the smell of freshwater, the laughing, the ability to just be.

Sometimes the memories are just that – memories. A smell, a sense of déjà vu. A heartbeat skipped in a moment, breath caught up in the wind.

Sometimes, though, sometimes the memories are dark. Lost loved ones – buried six feet under, never to be seen in this life again. Harsh words. Regrets of actions not taken. An ache in the chest so deep it bears witness to the emptiness that lies within. It can be put aside, forced to lay dormant until that moment – a song comes on the radio, sudden intake of breath, burning in the eyes, memories of loss, hurt, anguish.

Why do the hurtful ones seem the strongest? What is it about anguish?

I sit here typing, Hurt on repeat. It is trapped in a loop, just as I am. I missed a step somewhere along the way. I’ve had others tell me that I need to be in the moment. I need to move onMindfulness, they say, is the way to let go of that ache, that stress, that hurt.

But how? How does one forget and move on? Maybe forget is the wrong word, but as awful as my short term memory is, my long term memory is strong, sometimes too strong…

I’ve let myself down. I really don’t know what I’ve become or who I am anymore.  I put on a good show, I act like I know. But I don’t, and I can’t start over, I can’t keep myself from falling away. Everything feels surreal, and yet so incredibly, solidly real.

Johnny Cash – Hurt

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The Gambler

“You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
And know when to run
You never count your money
When you’re sittin’ at the table
There’ll be time enough for countin’
When the dealin’s done”
Songwritter  Don Schlitz

I’ve loved this song since – well – probably since it was released in 1978 (I was 4, my dad LOVED, and still loves, country music). I’m not a big country fan; more often than not it grates on my nerves so much that I want to punch something, but I digress…

There’s so much truth in this song.

“Every gambler knows
That the secret to survivin’
Is knowin’ what to throw away
And knowin’ what to keep
‘Cause every hand’s a winner
And every hand’s a loser
And the best that you can hope for is to die
in your sleep.”

I see this as a metaphor for how you react to life’s bumps and bruises, joys and hopes. You can sit down with what you’ve been dealt and cry your eyes out, or you can sit with it and think of how fortunate you are. Life can be shit. I know life can be shit. Hard to see the good when it feels as though you’re being engulfed in a flood of depression, self-loathing, tragedy, and loss.

My depression has been engulfing me. I was going to say lately, but let’s be real – it’s been way longer than just lately. I’ve put weight back on, I’ve had so much stress that my skin itches, I’ve migraines almost on the daily, and I can barely sleep. But you know what – I STILL have hope. I still have the light in my sights so that I can have that winner hand.

I’ll not let the hands I’m given weigh me down. Sometimes they do, not going to lie. Getting back up, walking with my head held high, I’m climbing up that mountain – weight on my back, and I’m going to reach that top and over to greener pastures.

I do a lot of soul searching. I have a lot of self-doubt. In the end, I know that I am the one responsible for my internal peace and happiness. I can’t change the shit that goes on around me. I can’t stop asshole teenagers from beating up my son (yes, happened last week), I can’t stop my children growing. I can’t turn back the clock. I can’t wave a wand and my anxiety leave me forever or my depression for that matter. I CAN work my ass off to make life the best I can.

I want to THRIVE not just survive. I plan on making sure my hand’s a good one, and I’ll lay all bets that I’m going to thrive.

Kenny Rogers – The Gambler

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Classic WoW!!! WOOT!

AHHHHHH!!! WoW Classic FTW!

A Toast to 15 Years

This makes me want to resub…I miss you old WoW…I need dis

I be like

[Leeroy:] Alright chums, (I’m back)! Let’s do this… LEEROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY JEEEEEENKIIIIIIIIIIINS! [runs into Rookery] (context below)

All the nostalgic feels…I first subbed to WoW in October 2007. I remember the Rookery (and got the title!). Sigh…I need to budget for this goddamit…at least I have chicken…

The Guild – Do You Wanna Date My Avatar –

The Guild – Game On

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Under Pressure

“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.” ― George Orwell, 1984

This whole summer has been a stress bomb of pressure. We’re still trying to sell our house, my older kids’ dad died on Canada day (we had divorced long ago), we lost one of our cats, my adopted son was officially diagnosed with FASD (Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder), my daughter graduated (YAY!) and has decided to join the Air Force.

I’ve been sick, struggling, working my ass off, renovating, cleaning, caring for everyone as much as I am physically able to.

Here’s one of my favourite pictures of my Indian Ringneck, Kira.

20190607_072817

Not hard to tell she’s full of character…and she makes me so happy! Even throught all of the stress, ups and downs, and life – my pets are the best therapy ever.

Now – to find a house for us to move into! I had hoped we would be moved before the baby of our family starts school this year. Yes, I had one graduate (a year late, but she did it!) and one starting!!! I may be a bit insane…

Queen ft David Bowie – Under Pressure

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