Your cat cares that you didn’t remember to scoop the litter before you left which means now I’m very upset and I’m going to poop on the floor – and you know how I can’t stand it when there’s poop on the floor.
That upsets me even more so I will cover the poop with your shirt from the laundry basket. There. That’s better. I must now suck on the blue blanket to comfort myself.
If I cannot access the blue blanket because the bedspread is in the way I will claw it out of the way. You left me no choice.
I want to talk about therapy. As of 2018, I have collectively been in therapy for 13 years.
You’re welcome, Earth.
I have a history of severe depression, anxiety, and a delightful sprinkling of suicidal tendencies, a.k.a. MENTAL ILLNESS. (Insert dramatic music and crowds running away in black and white b-movie terror). When it first showed up so many years ago I was very blessed that I had friends in my life who insisted I wasn’t okay and pointed me in the direction of getting professional help. I send them little prayers every day.
I’m super pleased to announce that my newest album with Sit Kitty Sit, Tectonic, is finally here! Two years in the making, this album encompasses all the huge personal growth both Mike and I have gone through since 2014. I am so very proud of this album – everything. The lyrics and music and the production quality as well. I wrote a full blog on the Sit Kitty Sit website telling the story behind the album and all of the individual songs. We recorded it with Rick Spagnola at Dog Water Studios in Reno, NV. A fantastic, healing experience.
The first single, “Paper Doll”, off of Sit Kitty Sit’s upcoming album Tectonic came out on Tuesday, April 17th. I really really love the finished product:
I’ve wanted to write this blog for about a year. I’ve been trying to come up with the right word. That’s what’s been slowing me down. After all that I went through from 2014-2017 (which I’m now coining “The Business”) I’ve been lacking the right…word…for what it is I’m doing with myself now after such extreme change.
That fucking word. I swear to Christ.
It haunts us with things left undone. With potential. An endless stream of what-ifs, could-haves, and maybes that meld into a theatrical chorus of “You are not good enough as you are”.
I’m not talking about positive self-improvement. I’m talking about those twisted voices whose only purpose is to torment. We all have them.