Maranda Russell's Blog, page 56

Short Poetry – Poured Out

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Poured Out

By: Maranda Russell

Why do I feel like

my poetry sucks?

I try to write,

only to find myself

empty,

poured out like milk

and starting to

curdle.

September Cryptid Crate and Paper Kitty Subscription Boxes

This month I decided to try two new subscription boxes. I enjoy trying out various subscription boxes just to see what kind of stuff you get, and this month I tried out Cryptid Crate (which as you might have guessed, is a subscription box for those who love mythical monsters and other creatures of folklore) and Paper Kitty (a subscription box for those who love cute notebooks, bookmarks, postcards, stickers, pens, and other kinds of stationery).

Here is what I got for the Cryptid Crate box:

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I actually got the Cryptid Crate Lite option because it is cheaper than the full box, but was still happy with all I got! I love the Mothman t-shirt and pin, and the Bigfoot keychain and magnet were awesome as well! All together is was definitely worth more than the $20 I spent!

For the Paper Kitty subscription box, here is what I got:

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This box is around $17 including S&H. It is harder to judge the cost of stationery, but I still think it is worth it. I adore the Strawberry Milk themed pencil case, which feels like real leather! I also love two of the bookmarks (the Van Gogh and Anime Bunny ones). I’ve already used the animal stickers to create some new artworks, and the syringe highlighter and cute sheep/giraffe pen are great too! There are also three cute or decorative postcards, some bear sticky notes, a fox notebook, a plastic bear business card holder, and a few other little goodies.

I liked these boxes so much, I think I will stick with them for at least another month and see how it goes!

Anime Bunny Girl ACEO Drawing

I was inspired by this Instagram photo by the Instagram account lucifer.mob, to create my own abstract version of the image, so I used my art markers to do this ACEO drawing:

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It is definitely much different than the inspiring image, but I still think I caught the spirit of it well and I like my version! As of right now, this artist trading card is still available for sale on my Ebay store if you are interested!

Thoughts on Growing Up With Autism

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This post will contain a collection of short journal entries I wrote recently about what it was like emotionally to grow up with autism. These thoughts specifically dealt with bullying and (for me) the most confusing time of adolescence, which was middle school and the beginning of high school. By the last couple years of high school I had figured some things out and learned how to “pretend” to fit in a bit better, even though deep down I still felt like an oddball.

Here goes:

I hated always being the butt of the joke – even among friends. I was naive. I was gullible. I was trusting. Too many times I was set up for humiliation or embarrassment.

In an effort to avoid this embarrassment, I quit trusting anyone. I quit taking anyone at their word. I became suspicious. I struggled to identify sarcasm, so I started assuming ALL was sarcasm unless I knew someone well enough to tell the difference. 

Due to this struggle with recognizing sarcasm, how many “mean” comments did I take to heart that were meant in jest? How many cruel words that cut me to the core, were never even meant to be cruel? When boys would say they liked me and I would take it as them mocking me and choose to ignore them or laugh at their “joke”, did I instead end up hurting their feelings in an effort to save my own? 

Bullied for my weight during middle school, accused of having a lack of “feeling” or frustrating others who thought I didn’t care about anything because I suffered from selective mutism under stress, constantly feeling reminded that I wasn’t “feminine” enough – this was much of my teenage experience.  

The common thread throughout was that I unknowingly made myself a target for abuse. The way I dressed. The way I talked. The way I acted. I was so desperate for acceptance and approval, but I reached for them in ways that were socially unacceptable to those around me and ended up only painting the bulls-eye larger on myself.  

Bronchitis (Again!) and Short Bits of Blackout Poetry

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I’ve come down with another nasty case of bronchitis, so I’m taking it easy, hoping the antibiotics kick in soon, and putting together bits of loosely created blackout poetry (using some magazines and comics I’ve read lately). Here are a few of these creative little bits:

1)

Not a single one

became a hugely successful

project,

save the seals, coins,

and animal bones.

2)

The result

of a terrible illegality

controls

a large new stairway

down

to the mounds of holy dirt.

3)

To arms!

To the ramparts!

To let me nap in peace.

4)

The pin

is mightier

than the sword –

if gouged

into thine eye.

These bits of poetry are short, random, and sometimes a bit nonsensical, but I enjoy playing with language, and even the most ambiguous ones have a sort of language musicality to me.

Poetry – Anxiety Lament

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Anxiety Lament

By: Maranda Russell

Clenched teeth

and clenched fists

accompany defiant eyes.

I have high expectations

but I avoid them all.

Sick in the stomach,

sick in the head,

sick of this life.

I would cry,

but I never

penciled it in today.

I Survived the Birthday Party!

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A few of you seemed like you wanted an update about how my husband’s birthday party went yesterday (if you didn’t read my post yesterday, you can find it here). Most of the really bad nerves happened before the party and on the way there, which is pretty normal for me. I had an IBS attack about a half hour before leaving the house (nausea, diarrhea, cramps – the whole shebang). On the drive to the party, I noticed my right leg was shaking pretty bad (a sure sign of anxiety), which made driving even more uncomfortable.

However, once I arrived at the school, it didn’t go too bad. Checking in at the front office wasn’t nearly as scary as I had imagined, although the receptionist was kind of grumpy. They had me stay in the office until the party was ready, as they wanted to surprise my husband. When they were ready, I joined the kids in my husband’s class and his assistants on their way back to the classroom from music class. We all got to my husband’s classroom and sang Happy Birthday to him and had some cupcakes. There was a ton of other food there as well – a huge assortment of candy, an amazing cream cheese peanut butter cake, chocolate covered pretzels, chips and salsa, and more.

Meeting my husband’s assistants (and a few other school employees) went ok. They were nice and friendly, although I did feel pretty shy. I had to ask my husband a few times if they were kidding or not when they said certain things, because I genuinely have a hard time deciphering whether people I don’t know well are being sarcastic or for real when they talk. One of the highlights of the party was meeting one student’s therapy dog. Meeting people fills me with anxiety, but meeting animals is always pure joy! I also got a couple hugs from my husband’s students, which was sweet.

After the party I was definitely relieved to get back home, but proud that I went. I know it meant a lot to my husband, so it was worth it.

Birthday Party Anxiety

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Today is my husband’s birthday. At his work (he teaches special education), they are holding a special party for him this afternoon and his coworkers reached out to invite me. I am going to go, but I must admit I am nervous. I’ve never actually met his coworkers since they are fairly new, so that is a little intimidating to me (having to meet them all at one time).

For some reason, I am super nervous about having to go to the office to check in as a guest…I know I am 35 years old and it is kind of ridiculous to be nervous about something so simple, but I am what I am. I am also worried about the drive, because it is about a 40 minute drive and that is way out of my comfort zone as far as driving goes.

I must admit when I first heard about the party, my first instinct was to say I couldn’t make it. Anxiety is a powerful force. But in the end, my love for my husband won out and I want to be there for him more than I want to be comfortable or free from anxiety. I guess love is an even more powerful force…

3 New Weird ACEO Drawings! Mothman, Demons

Here are a few of my recent favorite ACEO artist trading cards I have created. The first image is my own version of the Mothman creature of folklore. The other two somewhat look like abstract demons to me. I figured all three drawings went together well since they are all weird, kind of creepy/dark, and all three have actually already sold.

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If you would like to see some of my other artworks currently for sale, please visit my Ebay store!

Kavanaugh & Ford: Thoughts on Attempted Assault, Trauma, and PTSD

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The last few days, I have come across a lot of stupid, ignorant comments about attempted rape and its potential aftermath on social media. In case you have been living under a rock, people have gotten very passionate about the Brett Kavanaugh Supreme Court candidate and his first accuser, Christine Blasey Ford, who both recently testified in front of the senate about sexual assault charges.

I have seen many memes and comments about both the accuser and the accused, and while some of them are respectful in expressing their personal opinion, many have taken to maligning the accuser, calling her a liar, a political schemer, and even saying the assault wasn’t a big deal and couldn’t have been that traumatizing. I want to take a minute to say that just because an assault is not completed, does not mean it isn’t extremely traumatizing! I will use a couple personal experiences to illustrate why I feel this way:

When I was in middle school, almost every day I was chased by big, mean bullies who threatened to “kick my ass” or even “kill me”…they never did actually beat me up, but they TERRIFIED me. I was truly afraid for my personal safety. They made me dread going to school and I became hypervigilant about trying to avoid them. In fact, I remember having to time my afternoon trek to the school bus just right so that hopefully I wouldn’t cross their path, while also making it to the bus on time.

When I was 17, I was robbed at gun point while working at Burger King. It was the end of the night shift and the manager and I were leaving out the front door, when two males in black outfits and masks jumped out of the shadows, one of them pointing his gun straight at me. No, I wasn’t actually shot during the ordeal, but I had terrifying dreams and flashbacks long after. I could never work night shift there again. To this day, I am still afraid of home invasions and double or triple check the locks at night.

If I had been a victim of attempted rape, I’m sure that would have been another terrifying memory to live with. I wish people understood PTSD and how even attempted assaults can cause immense levels of trauma, depending upon the person and how they process events and react to them. Some of the events that I find most traumatizing, others might not understand, while other events I went through that didn’t phase me much (like my mother’s many divorces) would have rocked the world of other kids. I wish we didn’t feel the need to judge others for what hurts or scars them.