Good morning, Readers!

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while might be disappointed to find no anti-Valentine's Day rant here this year.

Rest assured, I still think this is one of the stupidest days in the year.  I really do.  I will maintain that if you need a marked calendar day to show your significant other that you love them, you're a terrible partner.  Also, this day really does feel like a punch in the gut to people who are single and don't want to be.

It's the most idiotic day ever.

That said, I've mellowed a little.  Most of that has a lot to do with being much more comfortable with me and my situation in life.  I'm no longer filled with rage or disdain when I see lovebirds on this day.  The urge to throw rocks at them is utterly non-existent.  I know, I know.  I've changed.

That does not mean I'm considering marriage and children, mind you.

If people want to celebrate today, I'm actually totally chill with it.  It's cool.  You do you.

Since I'm so very unlikely to be romantically attached, this day used to rankle, especially since I had mistakenly equated "attached" with "worthy."  They aren't the same, by the by.  Now, though, that I know more of what I'm about, I'm finding that today is just another day.  I'm not mad I'm not romantically attached anymore.  In fact, I think I might prefer it this way.  I answer to me alone.  I like this.

Bonus: chocolate is on sale tomorrow.  Yay Valentine's Day!

Still, I recognise that this day sucks for people who aren't happily single freaks like me.  And even those of us who prefer singledom might still feel a pang of loneliness today.  I know that I will.  Probably.  It can't be helped.  The purpose of the day is literally to celebrate romantic attachment; in your face.

Today, I really do just want to remind all my single brothers and sisters out there; you are worthy, and lovable, and loved.

If you're feeling lonely today, that's okay.  That's the design of the day.  Go out today and do things that make you feel great about yourself.  Or stay in and eat ice cream.  That's okay, too.

Oh, before I forget, I'm streaming tonight, since I don't have to go out for dinner or anything.  So if you're feeling blue, visit me on Twitch and cheer yourself up by watching me fail a lot while I game.

Many hugs to you all.  Thanks for putting up with me!

Good morning, Readers!

So, this is about personal stuff, rather than writing stuff, so if you're not up for it, stop reading now.  Here, watch the best bits of one of my Assassin's Creed Origins streams instead:

Okay, so, sometimes in life you have to make really hard decisions.

Like, 'this is going to hurt' kind of decisions.

I've had to make one recently, and while the benefits of going the way I went - most notably the mental health benefits - are absolutely evident, making that decision was still really hard.  I cried.  A lot.

On occasion, I second guess the decision.  The only thing that keeps me from reversing it is remembering the emotional hellscape I journeyed through before making that decision.  I think I'll always be in this place, doubting, despite the evidence that the decision was the right one for me.

I had to unlearn a lot of things in order to make that decision, and the largest of these was this:

Putting yourself last.

I've been doing it my whole life, bearing the brunt of really awful things, because my happiness did not matter.  Everyone else's did.  If it made others happy, or relieved them in some way to treat me like rubbish, or disregard me and the things I need, then that's okay.

Except it's not okay.

I had to learn that I was worth more.

That's a hard lesson to learn, particularly for women, I think.  We're always taught that we're responsible for everyone else's emotional well-being.  Cover yourself up, girls at school, because otherwise you'll distract the boys and it'll impact their education.  Because you're totally responsible for their education.  Not them.  You.  Stand by your man, even if he cheats.  If he cheats, it's because you weren't there enough for him.  You failed to fulfil some unattainable emotional need.  It's your fault he cheated (though attitudes to that are thankfully changing pretty quick). And just what were you wearing? Oh, and your physical pleasure should always come second to your lover's.  Also, your health care is less important.  Don't forget, your body is a thing to be legislated. It doesn't matter when or even if you want children, what matters is when men want you to have children. On and on the lessons come.

The number of ways we're implicitly taught that we don't matter, our health, our happiness, our peace of mind don't matter is absolutely astounding.  I've had to fight generations of conditioning in order to come to the conclusion that I need to take care of me; that I'm worth caring for.  Sometimes, the conditioning still wins.

It's genuinely not an easy thing to do.  I had help.  Lots of it.

Unsolicited advice from me: you're happiness matters.  As long as you don't derive it from harming others, you deserve to be happy.  You deserve to be cared for.  You deserve it.  Take care of yourself.  You can't help others if you're running on empty all the time.  Fill your cup.

Do the work needed to heal yourself.

Sometimes, taking care of yourself means hard work and making difficult decisions.

Life isn't easy.  You deserve the time and space you need to make it easier.

Sending you all much love.

Good morning, Readers!

​

Okay, there has to be something in the air or up with the alignment of stars or the distance of the moon or SOMETHING, because for a week running, I've had really vivid, weird dreams.

The most recent one was really odd, notably because I was in a life or death situation, and I wasn't scared, I was utterly furious.

Anyway, it starts off with my friend and I visiting an open house in a community development.  As we arrive, my cousins, with a few of my aunts for company, are leaving, pushing through the crowd in a rush.  I remark on them, and suspect that the open house was theirs.  They're the ones selling, I suspect.

We check out this open house, and find out it's a gorgeous three story house that is literally open.  Other houses are attached... without walls.  That's the community part of it I guess.  Still, the place is absolutely beautiful.

Cut suddenly to (I guess) a few months later.  My friend and I are hostages to cannibals.  Apparently that community home is a community of cannibals.  That's why my cousins were getting out of dodge, I suppose.  So, we're trapped in this room, which is sitting over a lake, surrounded by cannibals who are waiting... for the right time?  I don't know why they were waiting, but they were.

I had only just figured out that they were cannibals, and instead of getting scared, I got really angry.

There was a surge of water on the lake, which I used to escape with my friend.  Apparently, though, I went back for some reason.  I think it was to steal a pen?  Anyway, it cuts to back inside that same room I was held hostage in again.  I had a note that one of the cannibals had given me about how she was going to try and escape the "community" with her daughter, and she wishes I had managed it.  My mistake was coming back for the pen, as it was the seat of their dark powers.

I was devising a plot to get that pen from the lead lady (who I remembered was very lean, and severe-looking, in a pantsuit, and had the pen in her hand as she was leaning against a desk in the room) and break it, but then my alarm went off and I had to get to the gym.

So, that was my dream.  It was weird, and should have been scary, but I wasn't afraid, just angry.  I was angry at being tricked, angry at being trapped.

That was my night.  How was yours?

Good morning, Readers!

I worked out this morning, can I go back to bed now?

The runs are getting harder, and I'm not a fan.  But I also have not had to give up because I haven't been able to do it, so there's a silver lining.  I'm also still doing it, so that also counts for something.

Incidentally, logging onto Facebook this morning, I saw a friend of mine had posted this article.  For those who aren't going to click the link, it's basically talking about how using BMI as the sole indicator of health is literally the worst, and that a significant portion of people with overweight or obese BMIs were metabolically healthy, with a significant portion of people with "normal" BMIs were not metabolically healthy.

Essentially, BMI as an indicator of health is utter bullshit.  If you didn't know that before, you do now.  I've known since my first appointment with my doctor.  She told me to ignore my BMI reading.  I was in brilliant health.

So, if you're struggling with body issues (I feel you), don't rely on the number on the scale or your BMI score.  It's bullshit.

Also bullshit: depression.

I'd be doing so well, guys!  I'd been so well for so long that I had almost forgotten what depression was like.

I'm still okay.  Promise.  I'm just having a low moment.  It won't last long, I think.  For starters, it has manifested this time around as fatigue (that's usual) and anger (that's unusual. Usually it's just... not sadness, exactly, but emptiness).  Other issues like a loss of appetite, lethargy and random wild mood swings are still part of it.

Honestly, I think the anger is directed at the depressive episode itself.  I'm angry at it, against all logic.  How can you be angry at a feeling?  But I am.  I furious.  I've been doing so well.  I've been getting up and working out on schedule... mostly.  Hush.  I've been eating well (and enough, which was a whole other saga).  I've been to martial arts training consistently (an improvement over last year, when I was spiralling really, really hard).

I've been doing so well, and depression is trying to take it all away.

Which is bullshit.

It's not happening.  I'm angry at it.

Honestly, the anger at the weight dragging me down was what got me out of bed this morning.  Anger at threatening emptiness is what kept me running.  Anger is what's going to get me to training tonight, where I can punch and kick and pretend it's my depression I'm tearing into.

I don't always have the anger when a depressive spiral hits.  But I do now, and I intend to use it.

Because depression is bullshit.

Related: If I appear short with you, please know that I'm going through some stuff, and I don't mean to be rude.  I'm trying, promise.

Okay, I'm giving myself permission to do nothing today, except maybe read.  I'm off to do either one.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

I finally got the Assassin's Creed highlight reel edited together and uploaded yesterday.  It took me all day.

It is also the most exciting news I have today.  Sad, I know.  Here's that video, in case you were hoping to waste more time on this blog.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

This morning, shortly before my flatmate's alarm went off (we're both getting up super early), I had the strangest, most intense dream.

I require the help of any dream analysers reading this.  Ready?  Okay!

So my grandmother's ghost was haunting us, only it had taken grandma's usual cheek and turned it up to maliciousness.

Note: I adore my grandmother, and miss her very much (she has passed).  I was watching Moana last night, and ended up crying really hard because the sudden "missing grandma" feel that the move gave me.  I digress.

Anywho, all of my siblings and my parents were there.  Apparently we were still living together in the same house.  Grandma's ghost was possessing all kinds of things and wreaking havoc in the house, until she ends up possessing the entire house (I think?).  The only escape we could have, according to my dream parents, was to burn the house to the ground.  We were told to collect the things we wanted most to save.

I chose three classes of things:

1. Jewellery that was given to me by my mother following my graduation from university and a trip back to Australia (two necklaces and a ring).
2. The Malazan Book of the Fallen series.  I wanted to save all my books, but I had to choose, and those were the ones that made the cut (surprise).
3. My kickboxing gear, only I was told I wasn't allowed to pack that by my dream mother.

I didn't end up seeing the house go up in flames.  The cat woke me before that happened, and ten minutes later, the alarm in the Amazing Flatmate's room went off.

So, that's my dream.  Any idea what it could mean?  I'm interested in what people think.

Now I have a long list of things to be getting on with.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Man, things have not gone my way this past week... mostly.

I was on track for completing the first week of my new training regime (the post-run part changes every month; something about switching things up so your body doesn't get used to any particular routine).  I gave myself a sleep-in on the last day (Saturday), reasoning that I could do it after teaching later in the afternoon.  That was my intent.  However, it the night had offered up a thin dusting of snow to cover the ice on the footpath, and I slipped three times on the hidden ice.  I think that is what did it.

My right tendon/bottom of the calf muscle is inflamed and sore, though much less now thanks to rest. I taught all my classes on the injured leg (would not recommend), and was in so much pain afterwards that I literally hobbled to the bus stop.  So I couldn't go on my run, and I fell behind my running schedule by a day.  In order to make it up, I plan on going running on Sunday, which is my usual rest day.  Pending my right leg, of course.  It did well on the elliptical this morning, and I'll be testing it on a run tomorrow morning.  Fingers crossed.

Also falling behind on my eNewsletter.  I genuinely forgot all about the first one for the year, which was supposed to come out the first of this month.  Today will be spent writing that, I think.

I still haven't edited together the next Assassin's Creed Origins highlights reel from two weeks ago... that's two I have to do this week now.  Hopefully I can get one of them done today.  Maybe.

Why do I create more work for myself?  Who knows?  I guess I like feeling flustered, or something.

But on the bright side, other things are going well.

I was asked by a friend to edit a video interview he did, and I managed to get that done.  I have a thing to fix, and I'm going to try and get that done tonight.  I also saw my kung fu brother Jon yesterday, when he came over to game.  It was so much fun.  He's an awesome dude.  That also means that I have four new episodes of CoOpted edited together and uploaded.  All I have to do is at the thumbnail and schedule them, and we're good to go for that.

The first episode of Nights at the Round Table for the new season was also edited together and uploaded, despite a few hiccoughs.  It should go live at about 10:00 this morning.  We discussed the 2000 film X-Men, which did not hold up as well as I might have liked.

I did a lot of video editing yesterday.

That meant a lot of downtime while videos were exporting.  So, I fired up Netflix and watched a show I'd been curious about for a while, Godless.  It's a western, done in the mini-series style more common in the UK than North America, which is to say, it's a long story told over multiple episodes (of about an hour), rather than multiple seasons or in a single movie.  The ads for the miniseries promised a town of women surviving without the men folk.

If that's what you're looking for, you'll be sorely disappointed.

There are many kick-arse women.  But this story suffers from the same "white man saves the day" tropes (ALL over the place, y'all).

That said, the series is actually really good, well acted, beautifully shot, and genuinely touching.  I really did love it, though I was very aware of the tropes used, and more than a little disappointed that the story did not centre more around the women, as promised by the trailer.  Still, it's a worthy watch.

And that's all I have for you today.  I really need to get to work.

​Ciao!