free at last and with just a tiny scar

she wanted to tear the hair out of her head
yeah and she wanted to wish that she was dead
but a voice in her just would not let her drop
and her heart began to break but it didn’t stop¹

I was always taught not to burn bridges. “You never know when you’ll need someone’s reference/good opinion”–they beat that into you in theatre school, and it’s definitely true, but it’s also a way to create generations of artists afraid to speak up against terrible treatment.

Maybe that’s the point.

The first college theatre program I attended was toxic af. It was built on the exploitation of paying students to further the artistic dreams of the people in charge. They isolated us from the rest of the school both overtly (requiring insane hours of work outside of classes, scheduling all-night strike calls the day before exam week) and implicitly (ignoring the dining hall hours when scheduling all-day work calls, planning shows during college tradition weeks, talking shit about the school literally every chance they got). They screamed at us, belittled us, talked down to us, ignored us, disregarded our needs as students and as young barely-adults, behaved in such astonishingly sexist ways it makes my head spin. They taught us how to come to work severely ill, injured, exhausted. How to sacrifice sleep, grades, health, dreams, rest, self-respect in pursuit of nigh-impossible made-up deadlines. How to find a stud, how to not throw up when made to use spoiled paint, how to gaslight ourselves into thinking this was OK. What they didn’t teach us? How to stand up for ourselves².

When I left that place, my heart had been broken down into tiny pieces. Two years robbed me of all the joy I ever got from theatre. And yet. Don’t burn your bridges, so I didn’t, thinking that some day I might need…something from those people. A reference?³ A crumb of acknowledgement? I truly don’t know.

That was twenty years ago. At some point since then, I promised I’d stop preserving bridges that led places I didn’t want to go back to. I’m extending that to places I shouldn’t go back to. Sometimes, whether from determination or stubbornness or the internalization of toxic ideals or just sheer beautiful hope that this time will be different, you just can’t help yourself, can’t pull yourself off the wheel, and so you have to break it before it breaks you. Sometimes the only way to save yourself is to cross the bridge, and then blow it the fuck up.

And when those flames are burning so hot the asphalt is melting, you cradle your broken but still-beating heart in your hands, put the your back to the fire, and walk the fuck away.

she listened to the little voice in her, and then she hit the road
free at last with just a tiny scar, and finally on her own
no one knows what became of her, all we know is she got away
and though there really ain’t no guarantees down here,
I like to think she did okay⁴

1. “Price to Pay,” Blues Traveler ↩︎
2. or much at all, really, but that’s beside the point ↩︎
3. as if they would give me one worth ↩︎
4. also “Price to Pay” #symmetry ↩︎

The Horrors Are Never-Ceasing, Yet I Remain Silly

As I side-effect-diarrhea my way through the last hours of 2023, I’m tempted to look back on the last twelve months. But I got Covid this week, and “the last twelve months” is too much to think about. Let’s instead look at the seven days since Christmas.

My partner got sick, right? He tested negative for Covid. Then I got sick with the exact same symptoms. And I tested positive. And we are both furious. Almost four years we have avoided this shitshow of a plague, until one of his coworkers brought it to work as a lil’ Christmas gift. Then our 19-year-old cat, Mei-Mei, stopped eating. Then my partner’s phone got stolen on the way home from his birthday dinner. Then we remembered that Snowpiercer Season Four is still not getting released. What a week!

I spent the 28th of December on the couch, with my senior cat curled under my chin as she licked her food off my finger. She is still in good spirits, still spry, and after a vet visit for an infected tooth, she’s happily eating again (as long as we hold her in our lap, because she is a precious little princess). But she weighs just under 5 lbs, and she is 19 years old, and her kidneys have been failing for six years.

My partner has a new phone, but, I mean, his phone was still stolen on the way home from his birthday dinner.

And we both have Covid.

This week feels like the only real thing to happen since October of 2022. I have worn the same pajama pants for seven days. I have a constant low-key headache and I get winded going up the stairs. I sound like the Beetlejuice receptionist. I am on Paxlovid, and my mouth tastes like metal. I am tired and foggy all the time. I have 64 unread emails. Every time I cough, I have to cross my legs. I can’t recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass. I’m naked in the dark; there’s nothing, no veil between me and the wheel of fire! I can see him with my waking eyes!

Otherwise, 2023 is a fever dream. I didn’t know what was going on for a lot of it, and I sure as hell don’t know now. “List the highlights”? “Analyze my achievements”? “Wash your hair, Rykie”? What am I, a wizard?

I didn’t get published anywhere, but I leveled up as a writer and I got accepted for something that’s coming out in 2024. I didn’t get a single haircut. I successfully stuck to a leisure budget for going on 14 weeks now. I spent most of that budget on mobile games, primarily about dragons. I became an Auxiliary Angel. I watched all of Bob’s Burgers twice in a row. I spent time with the windows open. I burned through three and a half “Vampire Blood” scented candles in two months. I wrote a lot of a book that I love and think is very publishable, and a lot of a book I love and don’t think anyone will ever publish. I watched all three The Lost Boys movies, and the last half hour of Breaking Dawn Part Two…many, many times. I doubled my Wellbutrin. My dad is still dead.

Mon centre cède, ma droite recule, situation excellente, j’attaque.*

*My center is giving way, my right is retreating, situation excellent, I am attacking.

Job Posting: My Social Media Manager

The team at stone biscuit productions is looking for a dynamic, entertaining individual to join the team as My Social Media Manager. Do you thrive in an atmosphere of chaos barely concealed by leggings and an artfully tidy updo? Can you get things done even when your coworker/supervisor fucks off to stare at the sky for several hours? Is it ok if I eat the last of the lasagna? If the answer to all these questions is an enthusiastic “yes, and!” then we’d love to hear from you!

Required Experience/Skills: 7-10 years ADHD management; PhD in Dragon Age Lore or equivalent experience; understand what I mean when I say “put the thing over by the thing”

Desired Experience/Skills: Bluesky invite code

Compensation is commission based, consistent with industry norms, adjusted for gross net profits, which is to say there is none.

If this sounds like a good fit, please fill out the following application…

Contact Information

Name You Go By On Facebook:
Twitter Display Name:
Discord Handle:
Ren Faire Character Name:
tumblr Username:
Secret AO3 Account:
Newsie Nickname:
Other Name By Which I Might Remember You:

Where Did You and I Meet? (Check All That Apply)

the ren faire
the internet – pre-Facebook
the internet – post-Facebook
friend of a friend
enemy of my enemy
school?
some box office somewhere
side of the highway, West Texas, 2015
I don’t remember either

SECTION ONE: About You

Sun Sign, Moon Sign, Rising Sign:
Favorite Color:
Favorite Biscuit Place:
Favorite Books (use a second sheet if necessary):
Favorite Red Lipstick:
Number of artfully ripped black t-shirts you own:
Games of 2-Suite Spider Solitaire you have won in the last week:

SECTION TWO: Compatibility

Please rank the following Star Wars properties in order from best to worst: The Last Jedi, Rebels, Rogue One, Andor, Diego Luna’s Rogue One Press Tour, the Young Jedi Knights book where Zekk is introduced

Who is the best Mass Effect love interest and why is it Kaidan Alenko?

How much do you love glitter?

If you were Rykie’s phone, where would you be?

SECTION THREE: Availability

Rykie’s normal hours of brain operation are 12:30 am to 6:30 PM, Monday and Thursday, with a 45 minute break for a nap or existential crisis. What is your expected availability during these times?

How many times can you make “I’m just a [noun] standing in front of a [noun] asking it to [verb phrase]” jokes before you go insane?

SECTION FOUR: Supporting Documents

Please upload your cover letter, resume, and three (3) or more favorite memes.

Managing

I’ve been thinking about revisiting my ADHD med plan, but this Adderall shortage is stressing me the fuck out.

Early in The Lockdown I switched from Adderall to Wellbutrin (and doubled my Zoloft) to combat my thrice-daily panic attacks. The switch worked out pretty well. It was less effective, but more consistent, with a much easier crash and less dry mouth. I’ve only noticed the dip in effectiveness gradually, as the world has shifted out of lockdown–when I had literally nothing to remember, and thus nothing to manage, it was easier to manage not remembering things. I could hyperfixate all day long with no worries, and so I was willing to trade a small decrease in effectiveness for lower side effects.

Wellbutrin is an antidepressant, prescribed off-label for ADHD. It’s an NDRI, not a stimulant, that can mimic the effects of a stimulant on an ADHD brain. It’s less effective than stimulants, there’s no denying that. It’s also very effective as an antidepressant (which I think also helped make a smoother transition from stimulants–The Lockdown was a hella depressing time, as readers may recall. Not that things are much less depressing at present. But let’s table that for now). In combination with Zoloft, previously-learned coping mechanisms, and a miracle of a support system, it’s helping me survive the death of my dad–

–oh, my dad died.

It was October 19th, 2023, Wednesday. Five months, two days, ~23 hours, as of this writing.

Anyway, I’ve said before that brain meds saved my life, and I’m happy to report that’s still the case. I’ve had some very dark moments over the past six or seven months in particular, but never so dark that I couldn’t at least sense the way out, even if I couldn’t see it. Sometimes I couldn’t move to reach the way out, or didn’t even want to try, but that was also ok, because my meds kept me alive until I could.* As I continue this four-year stumble towards whatever my new Normal is—a journey begun when I was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 35, and continually beset by upheavals like job losses, global pandemics, political disasters, and the steady decline and death of my beloved father at the age of 64—my meds have kept me from drowning in the Stormy Sea of Sorrow. Falling off the bridge into the Alligator-infested River of Grief. Straight-up assaulting the next person who looks at me wrong.

So my brain meds are working pretty well, except for this pesky ADHD. As I tentatively attempt Participating in Life Again, it’s becoming necessary to regulate my time in a way that for years it just wasn’t, and thus the failure is made clear. I got things to accomplish! Goals to do! Creative endeavors to work to completion! And the Wellbutrin just isn’t cutting it on that front.

• Doing Things is down by 37%.
• RAM (Rykie’s Active Memory) Capacity is well below acceptable levels
• Dopamine-seeking behaviors are up a staggering 53%:
  • pacing/nail biting/fidgeting
  • sugar consumption**
  • caffeine craving***
  • impulse shopping

My Da Vinci Quotient is determined by the ratio of finished projects to time spent wailing “tell me if anything ever was done”, and right now mine’s as high as I was the time I accidentally ingested 50 mg rather than my standard five.

So I’ve been thinking that I’d talk with a doctor about adding Vyvanse to the cocktail. I hear good things. Or Adderall again, maybe. Except that apparently there’s this shortage of everything ADHD related, because of moral panics and the DEA and the patently false notion that the US is overwhelmed with Adderall abusers looking for a fix**** and the pervasive idea that ADHD people are all just faking it for the lols and would be normal if we got beaten when we were kids, and I am just so, so fucking tired, because I want to manage my medical condition so I can manage my time so I can get my feet back under me after the most devastating loss of my life.

Five months, three days, about an hour, I think.^

—-

*Taylor Thomlinson compares meds to arm floaties, for which I love her even more than I already did

**complications from Type II diabetes helped kill my dad before he’d reached retirement age, and insulin resistance is overwhelmingly genetic, not weight-based, not something one can necessarily control, but the human spirit will seek control whence it can, and I have been trying so hard to cut back on added sugars, I have sacrificed and wept and cursed through this struggle, and I–I–

*** I’ve been off caffeine for going on three years with no problems, except that now it is a problem and I want it

****the reality is that the number of people who misuse prescription stimulants is hilariously small compared to the number of people who take them for medically prescribed reasons

^13,568,400 seconds

Nailing Jello to a Tree

“Hmm,” I said to myself. “Writing has been hard lately. Like, super hard. Nailing Jello to a tree hard. Pulling teeth hard. Walking drunk in too-big heels hard. I wonder why that is?”

“I have so many projects to work on,” I said to myself. “I’m so behind on so many things. When was the last time I even put up a blog post?”

“Nailing Jello to a tree,” I said to myself. “Is that clever?” It’s not. “I should write a blog post using it.”

“Maybe I should write a blog post about how hard writing has been,” I said to myself. “Yeah. That’s what I’ll do. Everybody can relate to that, and it’s all I’ve been thinking about anyway. Literally can’t get it out of my brain.”

“This,” I said to myself an hour and a blank page later, “was a dumb idea,” and I placed 20 library holds, ordered a pizza, and closed my blog.

ADHD and the Art of Car Maintenance

Things I Found While Deep Cleaning My Car For The First Time In A Decade:

• the remote door opener
• the cover of the brake pedal
• the driver’s side visor
• maintenance receipts going back to 2005, when I bought it
• one of the music stands I thought I’d lost
• a twenty dollar bill!
• six bags of trash
• lip balm I remember purchasing on my way to college graduation practice in 2007
• an actual honest-to-Bob 100 CD carrying case! unopened!
• the sheath to a dagger I no longer own
• four windshield wiper blades for three windshield wipers
• a plastic skull and bones necklace I bought for the second PiratePalooza in 2006
• a rolled up pair of socks the color and density of a potato

Other Things I Found While Deep Cleaning My Car For The First Time In A Decade:

• the floor

Rest and Shame and ADHD Awareness Month

There’s this thing with ADHD where you only have two speeds: zero and 60. For most of my life, if something wasn’t due tomorrow, I wasn’t doing it. That’s unsustainable and awful, obviously. I’ve managed to get past it, mostly, but I’m left with a lot of lingering…I don’t know what to call it. Fear, maybe. Misplaced urgency.

Shame, let’s say.

Between medication, support, and healthy coping mechanisms, I’ve become pretty good at breaking up projects into chunks. I understand and respect my limits. I make manageable goals, and I can stick to them about as often as your average NT person. I hit deadlines without panic. It’s new and exciting and DEEPLY relaxing. I’m super proud.

But also, like, today?

I’ve been working steadily on a project, deadline about two weeks. I hit today’s goal, did a bit more, and then knocked off. I’m on track and have plenty of time to finish without rushing, but my lizard brain doesn’t know that? So I’m quietly freaking out because I haven’t finished yet? “What if I just did a little more? And then a little more? And then a little more after that?” Never mind I’m hungry and tired and wouldn’t be doing my best work, and need to stretch my poor arms/wrists/shoulders. I HAVE TO FINISH IT NOW, else things fall apart, the falcon cannot hear the falconeer, etc. Nothing is good enough. I’m shaking as I type this.

This happens a lot, it’s stupid, I hate it, I resent it, I resent the years and people that brought me here, I’m angry and tired and I just want to relax. I want to unclench my jaw and stop glancing at the calendar in fear of the thing I’ve inevitably forgotten.

I lived in a constant state of urgency for a long time, because the only coping mechanism I knew was “try harder.” Or apply myself, or whatever it was people kept saying.

My daily planners were a horror show. My room/apartment was a clusterfuck. My notes, when I look back at them, are illegible disasters of trying to sort out my own thoughts. I kept lists obsessively, drove like a bat out of hell, set my clocks ahead, went to school without breakfast or lunch or books or glasses or coat or socks, pushed the limits of exactly how little sleep I could get and still function well enough to shit out a paper, knew exactly how much of which drinks would get me through an all-nighter, lay in bed at night listening to my heart try to escape my chest, had what I now know to be panic attacks, got deeply into debt, fantasized about driving my car off a bridge or breaking my own leg rather than go to work. More than once I taped a sticky note to my forehead before bed. I got yelled at everywhere, all the time, by everyone. I had trouble falling asleep, trouble waking up. I self-medicated with gallons of caffeine and sugar and am so fucking thankful I didn’t know where to get cocaine.

I cried all the time.

I tried until it hurt, until I made myself sick, until I just wanted to die, and then I kept trying. but I dropped the ball over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and–

Nowadays I’m fine. The apartment is fine. My creative output has never been better. I’m (almost) always on time, prepared, and wearing clean clothes. A rational human being could understand my to-do lists. I kicked caffeine with no trouble except a headache. I’m properly medicated. I understand how my brain works, and so do the people around me. But shame is beastly hard to shake. It lives inside my bones, between my teeth, in my veins, so I have no choice but to hear it. One of these days I hope to finish unpacking its baggage and send it on its way, but in the meantime…sometimes…it is just so, so hard.

October is ADHD Awareness Month. I am pretty damn aware, so let me speak to the other members of this weird little club: I see you.

I see you. I see your struggles. I see you trying. I see the chattering shame monsters following you around. Wherever you’re at; whatever people are saying to you; I see you. I can’t fix anything, I can’t take the hurt away, but by Grabthar’s hammer, I see you.

Our failures are not a sign that we are a failure. Our worth is not defined by our production. Our reasons are not excuses. Our disorder is not made up. Our medication is not a study aid. Our best is good enough.

I see you. And we deserve to rest.

Well ACtually…

Since Dragon Con went virtual this year, my core con group and I had our own little socially distant Quarantine Con. For the grand finale yesterday, I put together a game of Well Actually (which is a blatant ripoff of College Humor’s Um Actually).

It’s played like this: the moderator reads a statement about some aspect of pop culture/nerdy shit. The first contestant to buzz in and correct that statement gets points, IF they begin their correction with “Well, Actually.”

Since I’m incapable of doing anything that isn’t for an audience, here they are!

1. In Pride and Prejudice, Lizzie and Darcy marry and live happily ever after at Longbourne.
   
2. Henry 8th, King of England, famously married six different times, including two Katherines and three Annes.
   
3. Former 90s heartthrob Freddie Prinze Jr has since had voice acting roles in Mass Effect 2, Star Wars Rebels, Dragon Age Inquisition, and Kim Possible: A Stitch in Time.
   
4. The second of the Noble Gasses, Neon, has an atomic number of 12.
   
5. In the Lord of the Rings movies, Faramir brings Frodo and Sam to Gondor and almost turns them in to his father the king.
   
6. The most delicious board game, Candyland, was created in the 1940s by a woman recovering from polio, tested by patients in the same hospital ward, and sold to Hasbro.
   
7. Gillian Anderson, of American Gods, Robot Chicken, and many a young lesbian’s sexual awakening, has won many awards, but never a Golden Globe for her work on The X-Files.
   
8. As clearly established in Thor: Ragnorok, The Hulk has seven PhDs.
   
9. The very expensive musical Hamilton originally featured the talents of Daveed Diggs, whose geeky filmography includes roles in Sesame Street, The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, and Star Wars Rebels.
   
10. King Lear, the play that self-righteous twits like to remind us Shakespeare wrote in quarantine, was first performed on Boxing Day for an audience of Elizabeth I and her court.
    
11. One of Albus Dumbledore’s claims to fame is discovering the 12 uses of Dragon’s Blood, such as oven cleaner, acne treatment, and cough syrup.
    
12. According to the Star Wars Visual Dictionary, the Galaxy Far Far Away has approximately 3.2 million habitable systems, and includes regions such as the Deep Core, the Colonies, the Inner Rim, and the Eastern Reaches.
    
13. Impressionist painter Claude Monet had several children, including a biological daughter who was also a painter, and who, by the way, married her stepbrother.
    
14. Of all the child stars to come out of the Disney Machine, Britney Spears has the highest net worth at a reported $59 million.
    
15. Wonka Candy’s Nerds come in flavors such as Surf-n-Turf, Spooky Nerds, and Sour Lightning Lemon, once had a chewy cousin called Dweebs that has since been discontinued, and are all vegan.
    
16. The Archive of Our Own is an open source fanfiction site, winner of a Nebula Award for Best Related Work, and is a project of the nonprofit Organization for Transformative Works.
    
17. In addition to his own career, Prince wrote many popular songs made famous by other artists. These include Manic Monday, Nothing Compares 2U, and I Will Always Love You.
    
18. Wonder Woman made her debut in 1941, which means she predates Aquaman, but not Superman, Batman, or The Flash.
    
19. In the film and book series Twilight, main character Bella names her child Renesme, after both her mother, Esme, and mother-in-law, Renee.
    
20. Measured by gallon, human blood is less expensive than black printer ink, but Johnnie Walker Blue is more expensive than both.

• FINAL ROUND:
  • Dragon Con started in 1987, expanded to two hotels in 2001, and debuted the parade a year later, in 2002.
    
• The TIEBREAKER we didn’t need because the winner had double the points of the second place finisher:
  • The 501st cosplay organization takes its name from a Timothy Zahn Star Wars novel, and later the Revenge of the Sith novelization.

Dragon Con: At Home Edition

Dragon Con, like everything, is going virtual this year. This is a good decision and I applaud it–but I am (and I cannot stress this enough) REALLY BUMMED.

To ease my poor sad little nerd heart, I made myself a schedule to mimic the quintessential Dragon Con experience.

Wednesday

*kick your feet up and relax, because you aren’t frantically packing right now!

Thursday

*celebrate Check-in: put a $2000 hold on your credit card

*eat a burrito

*argue with your housemates about who gets the souvenir keys

*call a friend every fifteen minutes asking where they are, and should you meet them to drop off your portion of the hotel or leave it in the room or what, and did they bring a towel rack, and what are dinner plans?

*celebrate Badge Pickup: turn on very loud music and fill your mouth with marshmallows, then yell complicated instructions at your housemates

*spend your entire food budget at CVS buying the toiletries you forgot to pack

*forget to eat dinner; fill up with candy and promise you’ll get a good breakfast

Friday

*wake up early and bring your housemates coffee because you’re SO EXCITED!

*eat a burrito

*do an elaborate makeup look

*spend fifteen minutes looking for your badge

*celebrate the Art Show: make hundreds of miniscule changes to the arrangement of your wall art

*make 3d12 laps around your neighborhood

*eat another burrito

*have a heated discussion with your housemates about an obscure point of an obscure fandom

*eat one single vegetable and feel very healthy

*forget that you are older than you used to be and have far too many drinks, yelling “it’s a marathon, not a sprint!”

Saturday

*celebrate the Parade: get up at dawn, wrap yourself in your thickest blanket, and stand in the sun for two hours

*take a shower, do an elaborate makeup look

*spend 15 minutes looking for your room key
*eat a burrito while sitting on the stairs; every few bites, say “keep the stairs clear,” get up, mill about aimlessly, then sit on the stairs again

*put on your least comfortable shoes and make 3d12 laps around your neighborhood

*take another shower, do a different elaborate makeup look

*celebrate the Elevators: poke one of your housemates in the eye while yelling “go down to go up!”

*get into a fight with a housemate about whether “go down to go up” actually helps, or is instead part of the problem

*before you go to sleep, fill your bed with chips, small rocks, and glitter

Sunday

*chug half a bottle of Pepto, do an elaborate makeup look

*eat another burrito because you’re too tired to stand in any of the longer lines

*cue up a video of something both extremely interesting and right up your fandom alley; doze off in the middle and feel really guilty about it

*make 3d12 laps around your neighborhood wearing only socks

*celebrate the Masquerade: swear to learn how to forge steel/tan leather/embroider/work with LEDs for 2021 cosplay; balance a sword (knife, spoon, letter opener, straw) on top of your head

*forget that you are older than you used to be and force yourself to stay awake until you are weeping with exhaustion

*add fake dirt, crayons, and ramen to your bed

Monday

*celebrate the Vendors Room: throw all your money out the window, then pack yourself and your housemates into the smallest enclosed space in your home

*try to wash the ground-in mess out of your sheets in the bathroom sink

*celebrate Check Out: fill a suitcase with bowling balls; carry it down the tallest stairs you can find; repeat 3d12 times

*fall asleep on the floor

Aesthetics I Wish to Cultivate in my Wardrobe Whenever I Next Wear Something Besides Pajamas

Creative writing teacher painting her nails instead of saying the Pledge

Dad at a cookout, but slutty

Post-apocalyptic glitterpunk sorceress

Kathryn Winnick in Wu Assassin meets Katee Sackhoff in Bionic Woman

Angry Nightmare Goblin Woman (as opposed to Manic Pixie Dream Girl)

Freelance magical assassin who needs information from the loose-canon undercover agent and is irritated about it

What If Vice Admiral Holdo Was In A Riot Grrl Band?

Jessica Jones, but scruffy

Poe Dameron meets Kara Thrace in a back alley to exchange sexually charged insults

Kristen Stewart in Charlie’s Angels meets Kristen Stewart on the cover of Marie Claire meets Kristen Stewart in the SNL Totino’s skit

Warrior Nun, but slutty