My life as a wino

I have discovered I really enjoy moscato wine. It's yummy, warms me up and makes me want to cry. I don't think I will become a professional drinker because I'm feeling so damn depressed. And anxious. This really sucks. If I could eat bread (thank you celiac) I would absorb this with toast. But no, I can't have toast. Or pumpkin pie. Or anything with a strudel topping. Crap, I'm depressing myself even more. That's it - I'm cutting myself off. I'm done and out.

Triggers - you've been warned

It took me a few days to come to terms with the election results. At first I was terrified, and now I am determined.

Why was I terrified? I am a woman. I was also molested when I was younger. I've had a lot of therapy to come to realize that it was not my fault, and it never should have happened. But when I hear people defending his talk as "locker room talk" I am horrified. No girl should ever have to feel that being talked about or being touched is "normal".

Another reason? I have a mental illness and I'm very open about it. Am I going to be treated like trash because my brain is broken?

I also have a gay friend who was almost beat to death for being gay. Will this continue?

And I know several Muslim women who are the sweetest, kindest people you could meet. By painting all Muslims with one broad stroke is not only wrong, it doesn't take into account all the atrociticies Christians have done in the name of God (and yes, I am a Christian.)

But I am moving beyond terrified to determined. I will spread love instead of hate. And hopefully, counteract ignorance with open dialogue and calm discussions.

Stabby

I have been exercising lately. In other words, I sweat and turn all red and hurt all over. But I'm feeling the burn, so that's good, right?

I can make it about 5 city blocks before the pain in my shins makes me feel stabby. (Autocorrect wants to change stabby to stab you, which sounds much more threatening but is not what I mean. I just want to take a stick and poke at roadkill. Wait, this has taken a turn...)

Anyway, if you see me out walking and I'm particularly red faced and sweaty, I would probably avoid me. If I've fallen and can't get up, press my life support button. Just kidding - call 911. I've probably had the big one. If I have a stick, run. Run far, far away.