a new post on a new blog for a new day, or something

gosh, that sounds terribly optimistic, doesn’t it? that’s kind of gross.

it’s not that optimism is inherently gross by any logic, but anything other than pessimistic realism resulted in something bad when i was a child. i don’t know what, but i know i’m deeply uncomfortable admitting i feel optimism, in a similar way to my difficulty expressing affection physically or even verbally, because it’s weakness or whatever.

so i can sit here, and vape cherry pie thc (or either of two other cartridges i have), and blog, on neon cherry dot pink. i have turned off the auto renew on everything; even domain name sugarette.net

my “fresh and popping” discord server includes dialogue like:

reminder that access is $1/month at my patreon, but i also don’t expect many of you to want to join. if enough people contribute to my patreon funds, i can subscribe to k+k loveline’s hour long guidance reading each month instead of a half hour tarot and astrology blend reading! perhaps with more guidance i will fuck up less! not that my fucking up is on you!!! unless you are one of a select few people who contributed directly to my decline…

and do i have a decline? for i am where i’ve always been, just shed of some parasites. lonely, in a pandemic, but not as weighed down. overwhelmed, frustrated, but not as willing to end my own life. that one’s important right there; my suicidality and self harm have been decreasing, and as much as i’d adore for my ex to think i died, it’s alright if he doesn’t and he continues to stalk this blog like so many others do.

so my mental health is better, and worse, at the same time. my physical health… is worse, and my spiritual health is telling me it’ll thrive if i buy candlemaking supplies, with some help from my materialistic shopping addict almost-not-quite-a-hoarder tendencies. that’s just that, i suppose. i am trying to nip the hoarder thing in the bud! i’ve seen it play out over my mom’s life, and i don’t want that for myself!!!

(and still, i hoard footage)

so i don’t think i’ve published a video since my last blog post, in fact i know i haven’t, but i am working on editing not one but several videos (i am a strong and capable woman when it comes to not leaving my apartment or talking to strangers or…)

terabytes upon terabytes, that i cannot wait to upload and then offload, but here we are, in a place where i haven’t edited much of anything yet. haven’t even organized, i have barely even peeked.

should there be a song for every one of the blog posts from now on? perhaps there should be, every time. this is a tradition i may soon forget.

i wish i had things to say, to contribute, to improve things. is it more important that i remember quality over quantity, dear (and sometimes creepy) readers?

if you subscribed via email to my blog recently, it is not because of you that i moved, and you are welcome here… give me your opinion! in the comments! or don’t, i have too many lurkers.

from my 2020 birthday

and so i keep moving forward. what else is there to do? we are floating in space, on a rock. keep living. keep doing. it is repetetive, and i hate it some days, but often it is rewarding, not to be the cornball i am so desperately afraid of being thanks to my father and his complete invalidation of myself or my brother feeling any emotion (see: him laughing and calling it dancing when my brother would cry and throw a tantrum at an age where that was normal.)

this was just supposed to be a post, you know? not one of the long, long ones. a casual one. not that it’s long enough to warrant two descriptive longs with a comma in between (yet?) but i still feel perplexed about how i ended up here. my brain is a puddle, these days. by these days, i mean years. years have gone by.

most of my media didn’t transfer to my blog posts here during the import… i’ll see what that means shortly, i suppose.

it’s come to my attention recently that i look young for 28. i wasn’t aware that 28 was an age you normally need botox and anti aging dermatologist and aesthetician treatments by, but here we are. my skin has gained texture, during the last two years, mostly due to my dermatillomania. i’m somewhat of a dermatillomania queen over on tiktok. i don’t think that that’s a good thing.

this is enough for now? we’ll catch up eventually…i love you

xoxo
zélie

i’m deeply unhappy

hello!

I took the photos below as a tribute to Xelia, who, along with several other amazing women, helped inspire me to get into photography. Boy, am I glad I did that! Thank you, flickrites, for showing me the light back in the day. I wanted to show these photos off because I like how they turned out, overedited and all, and also I look really cute, I think. Not to mention my fries bralette is the cutest ever.

I also am hearing my eating disorder constantly tell me that I should have photoshopped myself to look thinner, because look! Look how fat I am! I know logically I am not fat but my ED wants me to believe that I am. I am ignoring my ED. I am posting these self portraits. I am attempting to recover?

I also revamped my blog layout a little bit. Let me know what you think of the new graphics! I plan to make even more changes and even the stuff I’ve already done can be changed again so let me know what you think is working – and especially what isn’t. Please and thank you!

(yes, that is a wig.)

It’s very, very difficult to write about mental illness or even coping right now. I feel like I am getting by, but barely, and certainly not functioning well enough to advise others on, well, anything really. My depression is at a low point. I’m aware I’m usually doing badly, and that I might sound like a whiny crybaby, but guess what!? I am a whiny crybaby and depression sucks and I want to feel happy again.

I got carried away ordering too many free samples that were linked on those FREE STUFF 4 U 2 FIND ONLINE websites (which are great, btw, I make fun of them because I love them) and now I have so, so much mail coming that is just, like, packets of sweetener and little sachets of skin cleansing oils. I’ve already got a few of the things in my mailbox. It’s nice, I guess. I really hate walking to my mailbox (which is unreasonably far from my apartment) only to discover that I walked there and have to walk back for no mail whatsoever. I’d rather get bills than nothing, to be honest. Snail mail is great. Let me know if you want to be my penpal, I guess. I reserve the right to say no to you if you seem creepy or whatever.

I’ve been photographing cosmetics a lot lately.

Well, that’s all for today! I want to blog more often, so maybe that will happen (?).

xxoo,
Zelie