Mar. 20th, 2017

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batdad:

Poe Dameron’s parents everyone.

oh. em. gee.

Poe.

Dameron’s. 

Parents.
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boxoftheskyking:

Word. Also I do get confused in these “am I in love with you or are we becoming best friends or both don’t ever leave me” moments. Being single is weird man.

Christ I wouldn’t even know where to start. It’s so complicated. I’ve had it go the other way too, where I just didn’t understand that people were into me Like That, and therefore was kind of an asshole. 

But I just. I don’t know how to categorize shit, and it’s really hard. 
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#look at Cassian’s face#look at how much he hates himself for doing this#while knowing he has no choice#the rebellion is more important than his *feelings* he thinks#and the worst thing is he might be right#Diego Luna’s face works so hard all the way through this film#there’s a whole life in the curl of his lip#and a tragedy in the lines at the corner of his eyes#rogue one
(tags via @deputychairman)
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I’m so tired, for no good reason. I need to go grocery shopping and for some reason it’s this huge fucking deal in my head.

(complaining about mental non-function behind cut, do feel free to skip, but I do sometimes use this as a journal)

 I mean, I sort of get why; anything that’s a variation from my routine of going to work, coming straight home is a huge fucking obstacle, anything that makes me leave the house. I have to, for some reason, make sure I have everything on the list before I go, I have to make sure I buy everything I could possibly need; if there are any other errands I might need to do I have to figure out what’s the best order to do them in. That one night when Dude wasn’t around and I told myself I could stop and get fast food for dinner, and then I also needed to get gas, and it almost broke my mind because I couldn’t figure out where there’d be a gas station on the correct side of the road because doing a U-Turn would be terrible and also a fast food place on the right side of the road– I don’t think I mentioned it on here, it was a while ago, but it was like. It took me some heavy concentration, no small amount of panic, and finally just– acting on impulse, in order to manage to run both non-typical errands in one go. 

Why is this hard? It doesn’t even make sense. I sat around for a portion of this past weekend anxious and fretting and wanting to leave the house. The only thing that saved Sunday was my realization that Dude was sort of stir-crazy and bored too. Then we still didn’t do anything, but I felt comfortable suggesting some things, and I wound up getting happily absorbed in an activity. But why did I need him to be anxious too??? What the fuck, self. 

Anyway, there’s basically no food in the house, I don’t have anything to bring to work to eat, but I’m trying to come up with excuses why it’s impossible for me to go to the grocery store. if anyone ever was concerned that perhaps I’m not batshit semi-functional, there’s the refutation right there. 

I don’t even know what condition that is, whether it’s something one could medicate or therapute or what. I do recall that I used to do more stuff, but I don’t really remember how or why? 

I’ve always been like this, I remember putting off errands in college, when it didn’t matter and I could drive around all I wanted I still was uptight about doing things in The Right Order. Maybe it’s not really any worse, I’m just bored? 

I feel paralyzed, though. I don’t really live in my own house, I can’t be in charge of anything there, but when I’m staying at my sister’s I don’t really live there either. I feel like for my mental health I should just live one place, but I can’t do what I want if I don’t spend so much time on the farm, and for some reason I feel like I’m not allowed to quit my camera store job or even ask if it’s possible to do so and I don’t know what marker of progress I need to hit in order to ask if it’s possible. I don’t know. The camera store job is on the one hand so easy and so flexible, they don’t care when I’m in town and just want me to work when I’m around, and that’s great, but on the other hand, when I’m there I can’t actually do anything else really, and it sucks a lot of brainpower just to get there and get through a day and get home, so while I’m doing that, I will not make any progress on any of my other plans, and it’s not like I make enough there to save up. 

But if I quit the camera store job then I have no reason to be in Buffalo which means I don’t get to come see my dude, and while he’s pretty tolerant of absence, I worry that if I don’t have a reason I have to come, I’ll convince myself I don’t deserve to and just have to be on the farm working all the time, and then I really won’t live in this house and then why would my dude even still want to be my dude if I’m never around, what would our relationship even mean? How do I ask him that, he always just says whatever it would be fine but I don’t understand how. 

And I don’t understand what the obstacles are to me doing anything in my life, so I just keep on doing what I’m doing as if I’m waiting for some adult to tell me what to do next. Ugh.

I need to change something but i don’t know what. Clearly, it’s up to me to ask for what I want, but I don’t know what I want, or how to ask for it, and I have such intensive conditioning never to ever ever ask for things that I don’t know how to even articulate them to myself, so that’s obnoxious and also inexplicable.
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blockmind:

mdthwomp:

still-holding-minas-morgul:

cancerbiophd:

cancerbiophd:

can you confirm that the wildflower seeds from Cheerio’s #BringBackTheBees campaign aren’t invasive species in certain parts of the US?

thanks!

sincerely,someone who wants to support the bees but also doesn’t want to mess up the environment 

so i’ve already found some info on california poppies from here that they may be potentially invasive in hawaii, alaska, and tennessee :\

Friendly reminder that you can’t bring some plants into California (they check you if you’re driving in) because of how specific their plant ecosystem is.

Hi Guys!

So you want to support bees, but Cheerios is giving you invasive species, so you can’t use that.

Then use SEEDLES!

Seedles are little seed balls that plant wildflowers and other bee-friendly plants. They aren’t that expensive, and the best part is they’re unique to your region. They’ve worked to use plants found natively in each part of the US so that you aren’t introducing non-native or invasive species.

This is a perfect addition, almost all of the flowers included in Cheerio’s mix are guaranteed to be invasive somewhere. Cheerio’s and those plant bombs are a misguided attempt at helping when you don’t don’t understand the complexity of native ecosystems. You could end up doing much more damage in the long run if you don’t use native species. 

I checked out Seedle’s website and they make it really easy to divide what flowers you are buying by region, so go get your bee support from there! The bees and their environment will be much happier. 
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torrilin reblogged your post and added:

Oh bleegh.Yeah, my brain tries shit like this all…

I used to do all right with meal planning, but now we have Blue Apron, so that’s out of my hands– but it means we never go grocery shopping, so it means, sure, we get a good dinner three nights a week, but there’s no cream for the coffee, there’s nothing for lunch, there’s no snack food, there’s nothing for breakfast on weekends. I need to eat breakfast in order to function, but if there’s no food, I won’t, and I wind up foggy and confused. So I try to remember to buy foods for all of the other meals that exist, but it’s an uphill battle.

 Blue Apron is better than nothing, though, because I had always, always done the labor of menu planning, even if Dude would often do the cooking, and I finally just collapsed and said, “I don’t care if we never eat again and I die here, I’m not fucking deciding what we eat every fucking night.” I was extremely non-functional, early on in my Saga Of Depressive Shit, and I guess that finally got the message through. (I had like one decision a day in me, and it was what to wear; I wasn’t going to blow through tomorrow’s clothing choice capability just to feed a grown-ass man who was capable of thinking of something on his fucking own.) I don’t like Blue Apron’s recipes, I can’t follow them, but I put my foot down: I don’t decide what we eat anymore. It was my job for twelve years and I’d had enough of it. I miss it, a little, but I just don’t have the fucking spoons– especially when I live in this house only about half of the time. 

And it’s not that I don’t know fine well where everything around me is, but then I can’t decide where to go. I tried using mapping software, actually, during that little crisis, to tell me where there was a gas station that would be a right turn, and it actually didn’t give me any information I could use. (I hit the “near me” button and it turned up locations 6, 10 miles away, and wouldn’t tell me where the one I knew was 2 miles away was– I had to navigate on memory and find it. I even tried typing in the specific name, because I knew it was a Noco, and it showed me a Noco 20 miles away. Who fucking knows.) 

But it doesn’t seem to help– I know where there are places to eat near me, but I have no desire for any food, none of it sounds good, it seems to complicated to get to, maybe I should just not. Only the fact that I knew there wasn’t so much as a package of ramen in the house made me pick a spot to go, that night. 
via http://ift.tt/2nfVO2B:unicornduke replied to your post “torrilin reblogged your post and added: Oh…”

that sounds rough. I don’t have that issue at all, meal planning and grocery shopping happen because they have to happen or else I don’t have enough physical energy to get me through work, which is physically demanding. I have to keep myself fed because not eating enough aggravates my digestive issues. I kinda wish there was a way I could use my ability to help other people. I’m sure there’s a way but idek how to find it. And talking to people is ugh.

I do fine at this at the farm– mostly, my sister does the planning, but she’s occasionally really grumpy. She and her husband both work incredibly hard, and he takes on a ton of the childcare and so on, but she always gets stuck with housework, and he definitely has a bit of a blind spot of not understanding how much of her time and mental energy go into planning and making meals, including managing leftovers and the like. 

But when I’m there, with her sort of in charge, I can do a great deal of the support work, including making decisions– or at least making suggestions and giving feedback on ideas she has. (A lot of the work I do on the farm is that shit, which isn’t paid work, but means my sister can do more money-earning work– but I can’t justify my having a paid position! Fortunately that’s something they do understand.) 

I just do much better in a large household like that, and it drives home to me that I just don’t feel like humans were meant to live as isolated as we do! 

Meal planning is more complicated on the farm, too, because they only go to a grocery store about once a month, and much of what’s eaten is produced on-farm. So that means things like keeping a mental inventory of how many pork chops there are, whether there’s venison in the freezer, and if you want chicken you’d better know a day ahead so you can defrost it, plus a comprehensive knowledge of what’s left over from the vegetable pickup that week during CSA season. And I like that kind of challenge, and to connect it to a larger logistical concern– I was kind of raised cooking like that, Mom grew much of our food, and ordered stuff in bulk like Farmsister does (and as a kid the grocery store was so far away it might as well have been the Moon; if you ran out of something and no adult with a car was home you were out of luck. Precisely once we rode one of the horses to the nearby convenience store, but that was mostly for novelty; it took us two hours.) and so it’s just been so hard for me my whole adult life to adjust to “i dunno the grocery store’s right there let’s go get something and cook it”. 

IDK!

If I lived alone I’d have starved to death by age 25, there’s no doubt of it. Or, probably, I’d eat plain rice for every meal. I don’t know, I can’t imagine it; I’ve never lived alone. 

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