Tag: negative

//Anyway I compulsively write roguish white male characters not because I don’t love female and poc characters and am not a feminist, but honestly because I have abandonment issues, because my dad hates my mom and takes it out on her by trying to form like this weird “alliance” with me like “we’re so great and your mother is dumb” and this is part of why I regularly, legitimately want to die :)))))) Any time I hear a voice in my head saying I’m insufficient in any way, it’s my dad’s voice.

And I’m trying to exorcize that immense awful scar on my heart–that he gave me when I was four years old and he walked out on us after having multiple extramarital affairs–by writing men who are bad in some way but ultimately can change and be redeemed.

So yeah. I’m the cliched overachieving female child of divorce with daddy issues. Sorry.  I’m a cliche and my writing is not as special as people keep saying it is, but I swear it’s for a reason.

“It’s the modern show’s other incarnation of the Master, ‘Missy,’ the Mistress, who defines the character for modern audiences.”

See this is why I don’t even bother anymore.

This is the shit that makes me want to just delete this blog and quit.

WHY IS IT A COMPETITION? THIS SHIT IS SO DIVISIVE AND DAMAGING!

Also what Dalek army? The Toclafane were self-cannibalized humans, get your fucking facts straight lmfao????

Just don’t  tell me there isn’t a HUGE and bizarrely fashionable bias against the RTD era characters.  It exists and there are these weird inexplicable micro-aggressions toward those of us who write those characters at every turn.

It’s as uncalled-for as that asshole columnist who said that Peter Capaldi’s Doctor was “not universally loved” so “yay for Jodie Whittaker’s Doctor, she’s so much better.” You don’t! Have! TO TEAR SOMEONE DOWN! IN ORDER! TO UPLIFT! SOMEONE ELSE!

//God, I wish I could make myself stop hiding. There’s been so much uncertainty in my life that I no longer trust any morsel of stability. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, every muscle tensed. I can’t even enjoy my hobbies anymore, like damn. 

I’m sad.

I’m sad because I never got a chance to be an irresponsible kid who spent too much of her disposable income on frivolous life-enriching things like trips abroad or outrageously expensive cosplays.  I’m sad because now I’m 35 and it’s too late. It’s too late. It’s too late. It’s too late. I have gray hairs and bank loans now and it’s too late.  

I’m sad because we moved home and suddenly, all the friends and extended family that had begged us to move home sooner, said they “missed us,” said when we came home we’d do all these things together, haven’t shown up once in five weeks, and one of them even said we should “get used to life without her helping us out.”   I’m sad because my childhood church is closing and so many of the people I knew as a child have died or are dying.  

I’m sad because all of my spare time is spent either with a new illness, or with maintenance for an existing one. The height of my social life is still going to doctor’s appointments and being assigned endless throngs of specialists and new, unpleasant meds.  I’m sad because my daily life AND my big goals are always disrupted by a new illness.

I’m angry because nobody around me recognizes how lucky they are to be healthy and if I say anything about it, I’m “whining” or they “don’t know what to say,” so I bottle up and hide more and more and more of that rage.  

I’m sad because all the hobbies that used to help me out of this sadness are now boring and stale.

I’m sad because I’m single and I want someone to love me and hold me and talk to me when things are too much, I want someone on whom to pour all my love and affection, I want an object on which to bestow all my saved-up fierce love.  I want a husband, and I want a child.

I’m sad because I spent my whole life preparing arduously, getting straight A’s and being a model citizen, studying and practicing all the skills necessary to have the career I have, gaining sterling references and rave work reviews, and the only work I can find with a PhD is still part-time.  I’m sad because my skills and abilities are recognized but not valued.

I’m sad because I’m an artist but maybe ten people in all the world recognize that.  

I’m sad because moving home was supposed to make some of these things better and it hasn’t.  

//At this point thanks to my crap immune system and the fourth relapse of this virus which has obviously developed from a cold into some kind of secondary infection like bronchitis, one that is beyond any otc medication I can find–but no doctor will see me until the end of October or the beginning of November–I’m just going to stop saying “I think I feel better” because it never lasts.  This is the truly insidious part about having a disease like t1 diabetes.  The disease itself is hard enough, but after enough decades it fucks up your vitals and it destroys your immune system so that a simple virus that lasts maybe 5-7 days for most people becomes genuinely life threatening and just hangs on and hangs on for weeks.  I can barely leave my bed and when I try to leave my house I have to return in under a half hour desperately ill.  My entire life is once again on hold because my body is weak and treasonous and I am really, really, really discouraged. 

//It’s not fair.

I’ve played this muse since 2015 and I’ve always struggled with this but man fucking hell,  as much as it may not matter in the grand scheme, or even philosophically “count,” it’s not FAIR.

It’s not FAIR that Theta Sigma left Koschei behind without so much as an explanation.  

It’s not FAIR that the Master was branded a villain and a menace and the Doctor a hero.  The dichotomy is NOT FAIR. The Doctor has killed, hurt, and manipulated as many people as the Master has.

It’s not FAIR that the Master’s WHOLE EXISTENCE is STILL defined 100% by the Doctor: whether the Doctor approved or disapproved, was there or absent, and so on, while the Doctor has a hundred thousand different friends, spouses, and lovers on whom to call and on whom to base themself.  

It’s not FAIR that the very last Master killed and was killed by a version of herself and was left to die alone without ANY recognition for her growth, while the Doctor now gets to go on and regenerate, find a new fucking group of replacement friends for the person who adored her that SHE left behind, and have all these new vibrant wonderful adventures.

The Master deserves at least as much happiness as the Doctor gets, and never will get it, and it’s NOT FAIR.  The Master is being punished for being single minded and, in a bizarre way, devoted.  

It’s not FAIR, and I can’t reconcile myself with that unfairness today, and I don’t know if anything will ever make this not excruciating for me. I don’t know.  I’m sorry. I’m not sure where this is coming from but it’s KILLING me.  

intergalacticstarlight

To be honest, same.

Like honestly, where IS everybody? I don’t say this to guilt anyone, because God knows I know how it is for IRL to be always a priority, and frequently overwhelming, but the thing is…it’s summer??? And most people are on academic breaks or take their 2-week work holidays over summer, especially in June.  Like, this has been going on since early April, and then I basically was like “well yeah, most Whovians here are in their twenties and it’s final exam time,” but now???? 

I log in here, though, and I find that even though my follower count is steadily rising,  my dashboard has hardly changed.  The same two or three people (I’m counting you here for sure) reblog or occasionally do threads.  Nobody else. Ever. Posts. Anything.  And most of the people who don’t post here? I can hit up on Skype instead anyway, like my main Jack Harkness, my main Thirteen and Nine, etc.  

 But sometimes, I don’t have energy for immediate social interaction, and I’d rather dick around here, where I have intellectual stimulation but am basically by myself.  Because my spoons are just. In the negatives constantly.  And I’m having what a good friend coined “compassion fatigue” out the bum.  

I attribute some of the graveyard state of my dash to Who being in the off-season until October, but not all of it.  Because I’ve been here since 2015 and I never remember having a lack of things to do or write about, before Simm even came back to the show. 

People have also migrated to Discord and I d e s p i s e Discord. I hate the interface, it’s unnecessarily complicated, the information flow is not at all organic.  It’s for gamers and I don’t fucking game.  

It’s incredibly disheartening.  All of it. Especially when I perennially am disenchanted with this character just because he has been SO evil (despite my sympathy for what he’s suffered and how he’s been literally weaponized) and feel the impulse to just abandon him.   

This was, around Christmas time, my MOST active blog.  And don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful for my core of devoted mutuals, and I have a wonderful time when we write together, but….???? 

I also blame myself. Because Gabriel came back to Supernatural after a character absence of seven solid years and that muse has swallowed my creative energies whole and I feel…weirdly guilty about it? lol. 

On that note, honestly, if you want my Skype? And want to move stuff there occasionally? We can. Just pm me.