#lonely panda

[pinknerdpanda]

I got my first real hug today in two weeks.

I almost cried.

That is all. Carry on.

[cuddlypandas]

I'm alive in the wake of hurricane Michael but 80% of what I own is gone in the wind

Fuck....

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

A Panda is 21 Today.

Panda: *eats a can of beer* Maybe I should post something new. That’s always... something.

Also Panda: Or, we could post a thing that can be loosely described as an “essay” about a thing a 13-year-old panda wrote and never actually published.

Panda: Sounds cool.

Prologue ; 1-2 ; 3-4 ; 5-6 ; 7-9 ; 10-11 ; 12-13 ; 14-16 ; 17-19 ; 20 ; 21 ; 22 ; 23 ; 24 ; 25 ; 26 ; 27 ; 28 ; 29; 30 ; 31-Epilogue

Some of you, which is probably almost none of you, might have been told about my OC Trevor Bansel in passing during conversation. For those that know him and more importantly, those who don’t, this is the story he came from.

Posting this here, aside from outing myself as someone who “grew up” on deviantArt many years ago is an effort to revisit it and its concept. Mainly the part about having an entire race of creatures whose magic is powered or strengthened by laughter.

This story used to be my pride and joy, and honestly, even though reading it almost made me cringe my eyes out of my head, it still is. It’s actually the third time I’d written the story, and this was the first time it felt good enough to get to the end. Obviously, from the ending, I planned to do more; but, also obviously, that didn’t happen.

The prologue is pretty clearly a mess thanks to past-deviantArt’s habit of eating the formatting of copied text, so if you don’t want to suffer through it, I won’t feel any worse than normal. Overall, the writing is a bit... The word might be “hammy”. I was and still kind of am the type of writer who tries to write things based on how I “see” them, or would see them if it was a movie or cartoon. Such is likely why Travis narrates like he’s from a Hannah-Barbera show. Speaking of Travis, his voice seems to shift in tone and vernacular a lot when he is narrating; another mistake on my young part. I’ve always liked being in character, hence my love for role-playing, but I didn’t really get yet that you can play a character without that character directly narrating. While I like to think I’ve gotten better, I admit it’s been a while since I’ve felt 100% confident writing in the first person.

I know I don’t talk about my characters much, or at all, really, but I do want to change that. Especially since most of this batch is still on my mind today, and Trevor is still one of if not my most favorite character.

Pretty much all Chapters from Trevor’s perspective, and the ones covering the final act are my favorites. I really hope you guys like the story if you ever find time to read it. Or not. I’m getting used to that.

Maybe go read something you wrote 6 or 7 years ago. Cringe yourself into a coma with your own work like I always do. ^w^

I’m gonna go pretend like turning 18 wasn’t a mistake.

[themondayfridayproject-blog]

This panda is not ready for Monday morning. Please observe and obey the 'Do Not Disturb' sign.

[drag-me-through-helll]

Looking to meet new pretty people's to talk to :) Love you guys!

[pinknerdpanda]

(ignore this, I just need to get the thoughts out of my head)

---

Not to be the Whiny Bitch on Main™, but I honestly feel like I'm invisible. Not just as far as Tumblr goes (though that's part of it), but like in my actual, every day, real life.

I was at the store today and people walked right in front of me or made a move that seemed like they would walk through me. It was like I wasn't visible. My kids completely ignore me (and yeah, yeah, kids are assholes sometimes) but I mean I'll say something or do something and it's like I wasn't even there. Not even a grumble of disagreement; just...nothing.

My husband may as well be my roommate. He doesn't touch me often and when he does it's not sexual. If I say I need a hug or affection he'll "cuddle" me, but I may as well be a pillow or something. Like yeah, his arm's around me, but it's just....there? Like there's no affection behind it. I need affection like I need water and air. There's not really any intimacy of any kind. It's like I'm like a placeholder or an Avatar that he can say "this is my wife" and that's as far as it goes.

I have friends. I have amazing friends. I do. And I feel the most seen by them than probably anyone. But what do you do when the people who "see" you the most completely are people who haven't even actually seen you at all?

Somehow I spend everyday feeling so fucking lonely I could scream. And the worst part is it's probably my fault. I could seek out people to talk to. I could chase down those connections. But it would be nice to be the one sought out; chased. Cherished.

A majority of my life I've felt like I've lived in third place. I'm good at lots of things, but not quite good enough to be great at any of them. I give it my all, and always come up short.

What's the point of even trying if I'm invisible? Would anyone even know if I was gone?

So, yes, Katy Perry. I do often feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, wanting to start again. Thanks for asking. But I don't want to be a firework...I want to be seen.

[pinknerdpanda]

Me: *is sad* "I'm having a low day."

My Friends: "oh sweetie! I'm so sorry! How can I help? Do you need to vent or need a distraction?"

My husband: *playing on his phone* "sorry you're bummed." *leaves me alone in my room 10 minutes later*

Me: *is sadder*

[pinknerdpanda]

Panda PSA

Welp. Still not dead. And thus begins the life update that no one asked for...

[[MORE]]

This summer, my family and I moved out of state. Not exactly on a whim, but without a good, tangible "why" either. Not because we're in the military or looking to move closer to family or for a job opportunity. In fact...we have no jobs. I thought it would have been easier to find something...but 3 dozen applications, 5 interviews and two flat out rejections later....still nothing. I'm getting a little stir crazy and as much as I want to "create" something...anything...my attempts have been so far mostly in vain. I try to write - nothing. I try to paint - I hate it. I have a script due in a couple weeks that I haven't started and zero motivation to work on it. I have no friends close by. My anxiety has been insanely high (no pun intended) and my depression has been flaring more than it has in a long, long time. My kids have had a hard time adjusting to the move and their behaviors have been out of hand and often out of control. I'm tired, lonely, sad and bored with no end in sight.

And why am I spreading all my bull-shittery into the Tumblrshpere? Because screaming into the void seems more therapeutic at the moment than complaining about the same shit over and over again to the few, sweet, wonderful, friends who have had the displeasure of hearing it already. Also because saying anything to my friends and family back home that is less than "sunshine and rainbows" about the move, would elicit a resounding "we told you so!" from the peanut gallery.

All of this to say...as though anyone might still be reading this...if you would be so kind, please send prayers, thoughts, good juju, smoke signals or whatever my way. It would be much appreciated. And to whoever has my damn voodoo doll - if you could just put me down and leave me alone for a bit, that would be great.

Ok. That's all. Thanks for letting me vent.

(aaaaannnnndddd no matter how hard I try, I can't add a read more on mobile. Fml.)