rosiekisses: (nana | snowy nights)
Hello, everyone!

The holiday season, as some people may be aware, is my favorite season. I love it all. Good tidings, peace on earth, and all that jazz. I think it's just awesome! Last year, I wasn't really in a sound enough mental state to do something like this but I've seen it going around and figured, hey, why not! I did it once before years and years ago now it feels like so here I am giving it another shot.

I'm going to send out holiday cards! Lots and lots of holiday cards. Since I don't have any talent artistically or enough confidence to write fanfiction, this is about all I can do to say thank you for being my friends.

So, if you would like one, comment here with your address and I will do my best to get it to you asap. Comments will be screened so no worries there. I'm thinking of closing requests on December 12th just to assure that I get them out on time to arrive by the new year but we'll see!
rosiekisses: (Default)
As some people know, I've been going to counseling for a while. In light of recent events, I wrote down a long stream of consciousness of what I was feeling as it was happening and read it to my counselor. I'm not going to share it because while relevant to my counseling session it isn't relevant to what I learned during it. Either way, we came to a few conclusions together based off of it; he gave me some ideas and things to work on until we meet again next week.

The biggest theme of this session though was self-acceptance and self-compassion. Of which I apparently have none. This isn't a new concept to me. I've struggled with liking myself for a long time. I'm aware of my own biases ( everyone else is perfect and wonderful and can do wrong while I'm just trash, etc. ) but that doesn't change anything when viewing myself. When asked why I would hang out with myself, the conversation basically went:

"Well, I have a great sense of humor."
"Alright, that's a good start. What else?"
Awkward silence for a moment or so.
"Well, I have a great sense of humor."

I said I also felt like I was a decent enough writer but that's an achievement, not a characteristic. With achievements, there will always be someone better or who has accomplished more. We're always going to compare ourselves to others, he told me, but what shapes us is whether or not we let it matter. So what if someone is a better writer than me? That doesn't make me any less of one or change anything about me. I seem to have trouble convincing myself of that though which is going to be something to work on.

So. We nixed that idea. He asked me to come up with more things I liked about myself - not achievements but traits! - and struggled to come up with anything. Even when I did, it was very lackluster and uncertain. "I'm a caring person. I guess." And therein, really, lies the root of a lot of my problems. I don't like myself. I dislike myself, even. I may go so far as to say sometimes I hate myself. So I look for approval and validation in outside sources, which are unfortunately temporary or harmful in their own way. It traps me. He compared it to like being a mouse on a running wheel just constantly running and running and running but never obtaining anything. I'm always seeking for acceptance outside of myself and, in turn, never finding it to the extent that I need it. So I start to think I'm not good enough, no one wants me and in turn hurt those around me that do when I have these feelings and say as such.

We also talked about how something that bothered me a lot was I had hurt people; whether it was my intention or not, I had handled a situation very poorly. Relationships are co-created, he told me, and there will always be disturbances on one end or the other. He reassured me that while I had made mistakes, said some hurtful and offensive things that I was in the right for taking responsibility for it and deciding to try and move on instead of dwell on it. I still worry. I don't want words like "toxic" to be associated with me because I do care deeply for my friends even if I don't always think before I act or speak. I hate confrontation or disruption in relationships and am the type to want to fix them immediately - especially if I'm the one I recognize is at my fault - but sometimes the other person isn't. So I just have to accept that things aren't going to be okay and generally awkward and uncomfortable for a while. There is going to be this metaphorical black cloud hanging over things but I just need to do my best to learn from my mistakes and give the skies a chance to clear.

But I'm trying; I want to get better. That must count for something. I hope it does, anyway. We both agreed it isn't something likely to happen overnight but we'll work on it. I'll work on it. I will get better.
rosiekisses: (kingdom hearts | be a little silly)
Rose doesn't have a domestic bone in her body. Despite this, she's giving making pancakes her best shot. It can't be that hard, can it? Insert water, flip in skillet, and done!

Sam's since gone out for basic necessities like the food they don't really have. After discovering the only thing in the place was pancake batter, he had graciously volunteered to go out grocery shopping. ( He really just lost the round of rock paper scissors. )

Dean, meanwhile, is too preoccupied with crappy cable television to give much thought to what the blonde in the kitchen is attempting to do. That is until he smells something burning. "What the hell?" He questions, twisting around on the couch a few feet away.
"It's fine, just a little-" Rose tries to reply but her sentence is interrupted by the skillet bursting into flames, "...burnt. Uhm."

After few moments of panic and profanity, the fire is out and the smoke detector disassembled. No reason to cause more of a scene than necessary and ruin people's mornings over some burnt breakfast. Rose has also since been forbidden by Dean to even look at anything in the kitchen that might go ablaze. So she settles for a petulant pout aimed at the bowl at the pancake batter.

"I had it under control," she huffs finally.
"Yeah? Well, you could have fooled me."

The pancakes Dean makes are perfect. They're just the right size, golden brown, and probably fluffy and delicious too. The jerk. It's almost infuriating how he makes it look so easy. Put the spatula in her hands however and it's a guaranteed disaster. In a moment of frustration, she dips her fingers in the batter and flicks some onto the side of his face.

He gives her the most incredulous look, brows furrowed and frown tight. "Really? Did you just throw pancake mix at me? What are you, five?" Rose visibly shrinks under the scolding with eyes averted... until pancake batter suddenly splatters her face as well. She gives a small squeak of surprise that draws half an amused chuckle from Dean.

"There. We're even." Though the second he says that, Rose is already smearing more batter on his arm as payback. The beige splotch on his sleeve gets a frown before he clicks off the stove and swiftly grabs the bowl of pancake batter. "Oh, now you asked for it."
"Dean, wait-"

It's too late. Thus begins the great pancake batter battle of Motel 6 in Rockport, Texas. It rages on for a full ten minutes before they're both carelessly coated and out of ammo. At that point, a truce is called (even though Dean will later say he totally won). In a show of good sportsmanship, Rose asks Dean about the show that happens to be on the TV. Cleaning the kitchen -- or themselves, for that matter -- is all but forgotten as he starts to explain.

Sam eventually returns and Dean breaks his recap for Rose to say "Hey, Sammy! Don't mind the mess." Naturally, he wonders what mess and blinks when he sees the kitchen.

"What did you guys do?" But Dean doesn't hear him because he's already back on his recap. It's important that he gets Rose up to speed, after all, and emphasizes how how 'it's getting to the good part.' Rose listens ( and watches ) intently, nodding every so often. Honestly, she couldn't care less about Dr. Sexy M.D. but she knows it's something Dean doesn't usually share so she isn't about to miss the opportunity. Eventually, she'll help Sam, who's grumbling and mumbling about the state of the motel room, clean up but for now it's her and Dean's time.

Profile

rosiekisses: (Default)
Chelsea Rose

November 2014

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 06:08 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios