It's Saturday night.

I popped a gummy.

My diaper is soggy.

And I'm chilling, watching a Bond movie with friends.

Life is good. :3

Pampered Chef Shenanigans!

Tonight: Creamy chicken, peppers, tomatoes and artichokes penne pasta with feta and mozzarella cheese. Seasoned with salt, black pepper, crushed red pepper, oregano, herbes de provence and finished with parsley and lemon juice.

Would have added basil if I had some. Thought I had it. XD

Still, it turned out deliciously!

Not bad for a kid who's still in diapers, huh? :P

Okay, so this is kind of a part 2 from my mental health post on shame.

I noticed another broadly over arching negative thought pattern that as it turns out...is based in that "I am a horrible person" shame that seems to be the foundation of my depression.

So...let's run with this idea and see where it goes.

So...a big part of overcoming obstacles, meeting goals or changing behaviors and thought patterns seems to be...on its face, the ironic action of accepting yourself. Now, in this, I don't mean being like that shame switch where it's "I'm totally a horrible person and irredeemable" becoming "I am 100% perfect in every way and do not need to change at all"...but more of like "Okay, this is where I'm at right now, and this is where I want to be....how do I get there?" It's less "I have to be this much better version of myself"....as if shaming myself harder and harder is going to put enough pressure on me to finally just....be good enough or something...because as we outlined in the previous post, shame like this takes away the idea, the concept that one's own actions can ever lead to improvement or success.

And I noticed that a lot of the times, when I was depressed...I'd go "I don't deserve...." and the rest of that sentence would be anything good, healthy, happy, productive...whatever. So if I had a need or want...I don't deserve it. If I wanted some sort of social connection...I don't deserve it. If I had a goal I wanted to achieve...I don't deserve to..." and damn....all of that just...played back into this sort of learned helplessness.

So...this depression is heavily shame-based. For a good while, I just thought I was a horrible person...then when I figured out this was depression...a mental illness...then it was "I deserve to be depressed"...or "I don't deserve to get better"....because of that intrinsic shame.

Intrinsic shame that isn't true, mind you....but because that idea had been pounded into my head when I was young, before I had the mental capacity, ability or authority to question it.....it just..became reality.

And since my birth mother reinforced that shame by never forgiving me when I fixed my mistakes, or praising me when I accomplished anything....like her entire emotional demeanor to me was one of disgust and revulsion...as if I didn't deserve to be there...it made me realize "I cannot do anything to better myself or the situation".

But that's not true...I can change the situation. And hell, I have been. I got out of Missouri, I moved down to Florida first, worked my way up there, saved some money, went back to and graduated college, got into therapy there, and now I moved to Pittsburgh, got a new job in my field and got back into therapy. Now...did I just...get that because I somehow magically did "the right thing" or "was deemed worthy enough"?

No. Sure, my family, my furry family...hell..my actual family...they helped me get into therapy. And college. And find new jobs. But I'm the one that ultimately put in the work. I'm the one who actually did the thing...and actually made my life, my situation and all that...

So that means I can take action and that action matters. That effort matters. If I want to accomplish something, I can take the initiative. I can be like "I want to learn computer coding" and just....start. I can be like "I should start jogging or join a gym" and just...start. I don't have to wait for permission. I can just...do it. I see something that can improve me, my life, my situation...I can do that. Hell, even something like a hobby, something like playing drums, or even just playing video games....instead of getting permission...or feeling like I need to...I can just...go. I can just do the thing if I need to.

But Kam....videogames? Isn't that wasting your time? Shouldn't you be productive?

Well, something like just playing video games is productive if you consider that this is helping me keep my mental health in check and allowing myself to unplug from stress for a bit and like...find joy in something.

But if you're not productive, then you're lazy, and if you're lazy, you're a bad kid.

Okay, lemme ask you there...how productive do I have to be? Like give me an actual measurable level. Set a goalpost down, tell me "be THIS productive"....can you do that?

Well....I mean....

Can you do that? Can you flat out tell me "you need to do X thing" or "you need to get this Y amount of the way finished"? Instead of telling me I'm "lazy" or "worthless" or "a burden"?

I don't know...why would I do that?

Because right now you're giving me this vibe of "you have to do SOMETHING" like a generalized anxiety....but there's no indication of what that thing is...so I'm constantly like....thought paralyzed....further when I DO manage to get myself doing something....you immediately move the damn goalposts.

...I do?

Yes. You do. And I don't know if you even know you're doing it. It's just what this shame-based thing is coming from....our birth mother literally told us what we were to her and to her, that narrative had to stay, no matter what...because to change the narrative meant she had to be wrong.

...okay....?

So she never was going to make us think we're good kids. We were ALWAYS a bad kid to her.

.....yeah that's because we didn't do enough to earn her love.

Are you so sure? She never gave us any clear rules, those rules changed to fit the situation. There were always some weird exception to the rule that was never explained. So we never knew when we were following or breaking the rules.

...are you sure it wasn't a me problem?

No Kam...it wasn't. Remember when you'd get the next belt in Taekwondo and your birth mom never cared? Or how A's in class became expected and not applauded? Or how even when you graduated high school, your mom made sure you felt like you still weren't a legal adult?

...yeah but she thought I had autism.

No. She wanted to claim you had autism so she could control you.

...what?

Yeah, that was purely a power grab. She used that stupid online quiz thing to make that claim. She never took you to any doctors or psychiatrists with the express purpose of getting you tested.

...yeah, that's true.

So, why listen to someone who has no intention of changing? Why listen to someone who has no intention of accepting you?

...because she's the one that knows me?

Kam....Kameron....no she doesn't. She chose not to know you.

...but she was the one who was actually around me.

Physically, sure...but did she ever take the chance to actually know you? To actually make you feel like you mattered?

...well no, because everything about me was stupid and annoying and pointless.

Was it though?

...well you know how obsessed I was with pro wrestling as a kid.

Yeah, and?

...I was an annoying little prick.

Kam...you were a kid.

...yeah.

Kids act like that. Kids get overly excited. Kids are goofy, energetic, somewhat chaotic...and they're learning. You're learning. You can learn. You can change. You can be a good kid.

...are you sure about that?

Yes. And what's better, you already are a good kid. Remember? Once you became Alioth's and Ayumi's kid...they chose you...they saw you as a good kid already. That's what changed. You left that toxic environment and you found a family in a much better environment.

...yeah, I guess so.

So you're already a good kid. You are already capable of being good. You already have good qualities. So...you do not need to see your flaws, or shortcomings as proof of how bad you are. That does not serve you.

...yeah...then...what should I see my flaws and shortcomings as? I mean, it's not like they're not THERE.

Well, that goes back to accepting you for who you are. Accept Kam as Kam. Be okay with that. Kam is still a good kid. Kam is still loved. Kam still belongs. Now...Kam can want to improve himself. Kam can notice things he wants to improve on without the shame making him feel worthless...so Kam can take the initiative to make goals, start projects, have hobbies...which then, means I stick around long enough with stuff to get good at it...instead of thinking I have to be perfect to start or keep up with anything....which means my hobbies and interests are valid and I can get good at them...which allows me to have an identity...and most importantly...one that is detached from my birth mother because....MacKenzie, you know what's here now....you don't need to keep coming back to this place.

Damn.

I am Kameron Stewart Francis MacKenzie Cody-Fox and I am good enough.

Okay...this might take a long time to process and actually get this out but...I think I'm really knocking down a huge pillar of my depression.

So, I have reason to believe that a major part of my depression and anxiety is due to my birth mother possibly having narcissistic personality disorder. I've seen a LOT of "children whose parents have NPD and THEIR symptoms" and a lot of those match up really closely with what my birth mother had done and thought and saw me as when I was growing up.

It honestly took until last year (and about 6 months of therapy) before I even thought that I had unconditional love with my found family, so these scars run deep. But now, that there's hope...there's the next thing to overcome. Shame.

And in that, there is a huge difference between shame and guilt and it's a very important distinction.

Guilt is "I fucked up"...guilt is when you make a mistake, do something wrong, do something stupid, and then you're ABLE to take responsibility, own up to the mistake, fix it and make amends...AND YOU CAN BE FORGIVEN...this is huge. The fact that my efforts to own up to and fix these mistakes and it allow me to get back in the good graces of people is not something I had growing up....or growing up the first time. Instead, even after I took responsibility, even after I fixed the issue, even after I seemingly made amends...I wasn't forgiven. That mistake though, that problem? It was filed away in my birth mother's mind to use as evidence to my worthlessness later.

So, once I realized that "you taking responsibility for your mistakes and trying to fix them" and "not taking any responsibility and hiding from conflict" gave the same response, the same hateful, vengeful treatment...why put in that effort? Why study for a test if you know the teacher is dead set on giving you an F anyway, right?

So, why couldn't I take responsibility for my actions? Well, a second part of this puzzle comes from a narcissistic parent's tendency to greatly overreact with rage and therefore have disproportionate reactions to small stressors. In other words, if something as simple as me forgetting to take out the trash, or my laundry somehow getting mixed in with their laundry (despite the fact we never thought to have laundry baskets)...that was grounds for threatening to kick me out of the house and abandon me at some Juvi Hall or Boys Town or whatever.

So taking responsibility became essentially a suicide mission. If even small mistakes, insignificant, easy to fix stressors that a normal person would easily forgive and forget after a quick "sorry" and a quick "do the thing"...is enough for me to warrant having my mother's love immediately and irrevocably taken from me.....then the survival mechanism is to not take responsibility....because as we had already learned due to her holding grudges and never forgiving me for anything....my actions towards fixing anything was never good enough and in some cases even openly mocked.

Okay, but you also mentioned shame, Kam...what makes shame different than guilt?

Shame is different. Guilt we said was "I fucked up"...as in "I did something bad"...it's action focused. Shame on the other hand is "I am a fuck up", as in "there is something inherently wrong with me"...it's person focused. And my birth mother loved shaming me. She loved labeling me as worthless, or a failure, or a burden, or a mistake, or a waste of life. She made those labels become as intrinsic to me as being left-handed, or having blue eyes, or being a quarter Polish. Like...I can't change any of those....nor can I change me being worthless or lazy or a burden.

Because, once again, we've tried. We've tried to improve ourselves, we've tried to be better. And yet, our actions are for nothing as our mistakes are just used not as learning opportunities, or chances to grow....but rather, for evidence to prove my worthlessness. Whatever negative, shame-based identity my birth mother wanted to foist upon me...those mistakes....simple, easily addressable moments where I COULD have grown as a person...were instead added to a growing pile of "reasons why you're a horrible person"....a pile that...despite my birth mother saying it COULD be whittled down....never was.

So, if shame was the order of the day, and me taking action to fix my problems was met with ridicule...if what was wrong with me was an unchangeable part of what I WAS rather than a changeable, fixable part of what I DID....then the only way to earn any chance at forgiveness, and therefore, maybe love...would be to shame myself. To admit how worthless I was. To readily and openly admit I am a failure. To accept that my life was a mistake and should never have happened.

And I've carried that shame for SO DAMN LONG...so long that...it was my reality. Every day, every week, every year...I had just...believed that "If I could apologize enough for my existence then maybe I could be forgiven" sure, I still tried my best to grow as a person...but...it was less about growth and improvement (as we've discussed was not possible in the household I grew up in), and it was way more about going through the motions. Doing the thing because "that is what you're supposed to do"...I don't get anything out of it...I'm not worthy of that. If I get a job, I don't get any satisfaction or experience or knowledge or purpose from it. I'm not supposed to. I just do it because it's an expectation. Why? Because once again, it had been established by my birth mother that I cannot improve or change or get better.

Hell, this was the same birth mother who when I was a teenager, wanted to get me diagnosed with autism. This was during the 2000's when in the US, unfortunately, "autism" was seen more like the "this is what's wrong with kids today" catch-all "mental disorder" rather than...how we may understand the intricacies of autism better and more clearly today. And there was the reason behind it. My birth mother did not want to use that diagnosis as a way to understand my needs, or accommodate me or figure out how my mind works. No. Not at all. Her goal was, in her mind, if I had an autism diagnosis, then that's proof that I was "unfixable" and "subhuman" and therefore, she could wipe her hands of me and stop being responsible for me beyond the literal bare minimum. Because in her mind "he's too broken to be anything more than the burden he is so...why should I care about making sure he has a healthy, long or prosperous life?"

So...around 2014....after realizing how she got angry at me for moving out of her house, and then she wanted me to stay in my hometown despite me living with a deadbeat roommate that was taking advantage of me monetarily, I was working a dead-end job, dealing with customers, coworkers and managers who openly hated people like me (this was before I knew I was gay, or before I accepted that I was....and before I heard about anything like asexual or demisexual to account for my level of sex drive)...she demanded I stay in this less than ideal situation, so she could resume control.

So I moved. To Florida. I had a couple friends there and somehow, a couple of internet friends seemed safer than the situation I was in when I was still in Missouri.

At this point, I was also being helped by my Daddy, Alioth (who has seriously stuck by me for 11 1/2 years so far) and when I got down to Florida, I established myself at a job (something my birth mother didn't think I could do), I started saving up money (showing responsibility, something my birth mother didn't think I could do), learned how to cook, and shortly after gaining my adoptive Mama (Ayumi)...I decided to go back to college. And I graduated with a Bachelor's in Anthropology with Honors. And then I got into therapy for the first time since a few free clinic services about 9 years ago in Missouri.

So it's pretty clear that now, I have loving, caring parents who actually see me as worthy of love, kindness, compassion, care, support...

So, naturally, I've been questioning that ever since Dad adopted me. And also since Mom adopted me.

In my mind, I didn't deserve their love. I didn't deserve kindness. I didn't deserve help or support. I was a burden and a waste of their time.

But you ask either of them if I'm a burden or a failure or a mistake...they will NEVER say I'm any of those things.

But, remember, those shame-based identities run so deep that...for the longest time, I was literally questioning reality itself.

So in my mind...why would my adoptive parents, or anyone in my found family for that matter even love me? I'm broken, I'm worthless, I'm a failure. So here I am...shifting the same need for meeting the conditions for love...from my birth mother, to my adoptive parents.

Because after all, they're parents, right? This is how parents would treat their kids, right? With contempt and disdain and disgust unless they managed to be good enough?

Well...this brings up another thing my birth mother taught me. "I am the best you'll ever get, anyone else would beat you within an inch of yourself because of who you are."

So in other words, anyone else would have the same, or even MORE stringent conditional love requirements than my birth mother...so it made sense I had to earn the love of my adoptive parents, right?

But...no...my adoptive parents....they give me unconditional love. They love me for me. They want me to be happy and healthy and living well....not because it'd make them look good but because they want me to be happy because I'm their kid.

Okay, Kam...so I'm noticing the Drug Use part of your content warning. Where'd the weed fit into this?

So...real talk...lately, I have been partaking in those weed gummies. Now, I know, I know. Some of y'all are going to go "why are you doing this?" "don't you know drugs are bad/harmful?"

And, okay, sure....it's a valid point.

BUT.

There is a therapeutic reason for it. In other words, a behavior is continued or reinforced if it is shown to have a benefit to the person doing the behavior. And for me, the weed gummies seriously tone down the part of my brain that controls my depression and anxiety.

So those thoughts, those "I'm going to fail" "I'm worthless" "I'm a burden" "No one should love me" "I'm going to be abandoned by everyone" thoughts become less loud, less frequent, and less powerful. I was starting to be able to stop those thoughts, notice when they came up and start cross-examining them.

But of course, I'd like to be able to do that without NEEDING to be high. Like if I could have this...calmer mind that is more willing to accept me for me WITHOUT needing to pop a gummy...then that'd be great.

So....what do I need to do? Well, let's look at Erikson's 8 Stages of Psychosocial development.

Essentially, at this moment, due to my upbringing with a narcissistic mother, I'm stuck at the "Will vs Shame/Doubt" stage it feels like...I still had hope that maybe I could be forgiven. But I was still full of this self-hatred and shame and there was no way I could absolve myself of it. I was a "bad kid" and that was what I was going to be.

And even though I left my birth mother's grasp and found a way in with my found family...in my mind, nothing changed in me. I was still me. I was still the same burdensome kid. I was still the same failure. The same "should have been an abortion" that my birth mother told me I was....and yet.... I had a family who loved me.

And yes, Bluey helped me realize that. There's a reason why my Dad, Alioth is my Bandit. My Mom, Ayumi is my Chilli and my little sister, Maxine is my Bingo.

But I never thought I deserved their love, or that I could be good enough. Until tonight.

Because I realized that...by leaving that environment of my birth mother....by leaving the narcissistic upbringing....and becoming a part of my found family...something did change.

My parents changed. Who my parents were changed. No longer did I have to keep wondering how I could "stop being a failure" or "stop being a burden"....and in fact, every time I'd insist I was a failure, or a burden, or a waste of space to Mom and Dad...it'd drive them legitimately batshit.

But this was the ONLY option I had to basically....apologize and grow....grovel and admit I was a failure, remember?

But the parent I had to do that for....hasn't been in my life for 10 years.

And the parents I have now don't NEED nor WANT me to do that.

They already see me as a good kid. There was a moment when I went from "bad kid" to "good kid" was precisely when I got adopted by my Dadfops...and later, by my Momfops. When they chose to love me...unconditionally....it meant "you are a good kid"....it meant that the negative shameful self I grew up believing I was...didn't mean anything...it wasn't real. It was fake. It was bullshit.

And now? If I can be a good kid....if I am a good kid...then there are good qualities in me.

Including a willingness to take responsibility for my actions and to make good and improve when I make mistakes.

This is the NEXT stage of Erikson's Stages of Psychosocial Development: Initiative vs Guilt. This is stuff most kids learn around 3-5 years old. They learn that by apologizing, and fixing mistakes and making things right, that they can grow as people, and that their parents won't hate them forever because of it.

So the next big question I have to ask...as I'm literally trying to reclaim my childhood and learn the lessons I needed to the first time around....my question is this:

If I make a mistake...and I apologize and do my best to fix it and do better...is that enough to earn forgiveness? In other words, can my efforts and my actions actually effect positive change in my life?

The answer used to be no.

Can it be yes now?

My name is Kameron Stewart Francis MacKenzie Cody-Fox.

I am a good kid. I deserve my family's love.

But yet, there still is a lot of work to do to truly grow up properly and heal.

But maybe...there's a path forward now.

Pampered Chef Shenanigans tonight!

Homemade chicken soup! Great for those cold winter nights.

Ingredients used:

2 1/2 lbs. of boneless skinless chicken thighs, finely diced
1 large yellow onion, finely diced
3 big ribs of celery, finely diced
One half bag of baby carrots, cut into coins
8 oz. baby potatoes cut into chunks.

48 oz. chicken stock.

Seasoning: Salt, black pepper, lemon pepper seasoning, garlic, ginger, sage and parsley.

Pampered Chef Shenanigans!

Tonight, since it's winter here in Pittsburgh and it's below freezing, figured I'd go with something warm, filling and hearty.

CHILI MAC! :D

Also, all the ingredients I found at my local Aldi so if you want something budget friendly but delicious, yes. This. :3

Roughly 1 1/4 lb. 80/20 ground beef
1 white onion diced.
6-7 sweet peppers diced
One small can of spicy green chiles
One 12 oz. can of fire roasted tomatoes
One 12 oz. can of diced tomatoes with the green chiles added
One can of black beans
One can of red kidney (chili) beans
One lb. elbow macaroni
About 8 oz. of shredded Mexican-blend cheese

Seasoning: Salt, black pepper, red pepper flake, chili powder, cumin, cinnamon, oregano, cilantro and lime juice.

Yes. Please. :D

Ya know, I remember watching a CGP Grey video on Youtube years ago about New Years resolutions and how they almost always fail.

In that video, he brings up the idea of a New Year's Theme....that way instead of going "I'm going to do X thing" it's more like "I'm going to do whatever I am able to in the general direction of _____"

This way, as interests, goals, needs, situations change, I can still explore new paths and new ideas and new ways of staying on "theme" for this year.

So....I want to make this "Kam's Year of Art"

What does that mean? It means I want to work on ways to both immerse myself with art AND ways for me to create and express myself through art.

So here this would have two broadly overarching ideas.

Immerse yourself in art.

AND

Create art.

In the immersing yourself in art bit...that means for me, going to more museums, going to music performances, checking out community theater performances and stuff like that. It means watching more movies and plays (with friends if possible). It means finding new musical artists to listen to. It means expanding my palate and horizons. It means going to the library and reading more fiction books (that one is my Dad's idea), it means basically finding art, and ways people create and practice in art, and enjoying and appreciating it more.

In the create art bit...that means me finding ways and practicing ways I myself can make art. Be this in the culinary sense with cooking, or musically by practicing drums. Or maybe trying my paw at writing or drawing if I am given the opportunity. Finding and trying ways for me to put myself out there creatively, give myself an outlet like that....I think would be amazing from a self-expression standpoint.

And then, since there's no real resolution of "I will learn how to draw" or "I will be able to play X songs on the drums" or "I will finish the computer coding course here"...it means just, when given the choice and the opportunity to do something artistic, be it either immersing myself in it, or creating it myself...to choose that option whenever possible.

So, with that, 2025, Kam's Year of Art. XD

Okay. I know I haven't been around here much over the last few months. Basically seeing a lot of the furry fandom migrating over to Bluesky and kind of seeing this place less for those momentary "hey I had a thought" posts, and more for these longer, drawn out essay posts...I just haven't had a whole lot going on that really required a separate post IMO.

But, a few days ago, it was my Aunt Sheryl's birthday. So of course, I wished her a happy birthday and she asked me if I was still posting here or if I was on any other social media sites.

Now, the thing is, Aunt Sheryl isn't my aunt by blood. She's one of my found family. Back when I was still in high school up through about the time I moved from my home state of Missouri down to Florida, she and her husband, my Uncle Paul, had given me a bit of a safe space to help me talk stuff out and process emotions. She and her husband ran a little place called the Ted E. Bear's Toy Factory. Basically Build-a-Bear but locally owned. Come in, pick an animal, stuff it, name it, dress it, take it home, that kind of thing. And especially after moving back to Missouri in 2009 after I lived in Ohio for a couple years....the fact she still recognized me...and my stuffed fox, Todd...I kind of saw this place as a place where I was welcomed.

So while I lived in Missouri, every week, I'd stop off in the morning to go see Aunt Sheryl and Uncle Paul, I even amassed a bit of a plushie collection because of them and it was kind of like therapy before I actually went to therapy.

So anyway....she wanted to know how I've been doing since I have kind of neglected this account and part of that is I've kind of just....gotten into a sort of routine so there's nothing really NEW to talk about I guess. But then as I sat and tried to figure out how to properly put these thoughts together, I kind of figured I'd actually kind of break it down into constituent parts.

First...job. So, I had gotten a job working as a part-time digital archivist at a news station here in Pittsburgh. My job consists of taking old news tapes from the 70's up to about 2010 from not just Pittsburgh but news affiliates all over the country (so far I've seen tapes from Boston, Milwaukee, Oklahoma City and New Orleans) and it's pretty decent if not a bit monotonous. I go in, I put the tapes in the decks, queue them up in the system and digitize them, then lather, rinse and repeat, keeping track of which tapes we've received and which tapes we've digitized in their respective spreadsheets, while testing the audio levels and the picture quality every so often. Not a bad job. Just have a music playlist or some podcasts or something to listen to since you're literally working in the archive alone, especially at night. Over the last few weeks, I've been doing 2 12-hour shifts (and yes, I have a 3p-3a shift tomorrow XD) but that affords me another day off during the week which is nice. I do hope that once this project runs its course towards the end of 2025, I can use the archivist experience to land a job at a museum.

Second...mental health. So, something I used to do when I was seeing Sivan, my therapist, down in Florida, was I would basically get a bunch of thoughts out to kind of prime myself for what I need/want to bring up in therapy that week...and then I'd do a follow-up post after therapy. Well, I do have a new therapist up here in Pittsburgh, Dr. Shanique Bailey. Now, the clinic I was at in Florida was primarily based in CBT, whereas Dr. Bailey does more of a Psychodynamic Therapy, so it's a totally different flavor and approach and I'm not..so sure as to how to really process it in words since it almost seems to be a lot more free-form.

Like Sivan and her therapy was very goal-oriented. "I want to do this" okay so here are some exercises to do to get you to develop this skill. But with Dr. Bailey, it's a lot more of like....deep diving into my thought processes, a lot more talk therapy, a lot more uncovering past experiences and working through past traumas and...it's funny, I won't hit on a massive breakthrough until way after therapy. Like today, I went and saw Dr. Bailey at 1pm...that seems to be the time, Thursdays at 1p. So...I went and saw her, but it wasn't until about...8pm when I was talking to my Dad @AliothFox, and told him what Dr. Bailey said kind of in passing during therapy today "You said you were afraid of being what your birth mother said you were, but it's clear to me that you are not that at all." and...that hit hard. Like in a good way. I also ended up sharing that with my Mom @ayumi_silverfox and my little sister @MaxxyRaccoon and dang...having a chosen family that has my back has been almost like....full on reality altering.

Then, there's like...the hobbies thing. So, this dorky diaper-clad spottyfox has decided to start learning drums. I got that electronic drum kit for myself back in September and I've been kind of off-and-on playing on it. I FINALLY decided to swap things around to a left-handed setup like...last week and somehow it's so much easier now. Been finding a lot of songs, punk rock and metal mostly (hey, blame the Tony Hawk games for my taste in music XD) and trying to break down the drum parts and play along with them.

I have also been cooking, but I've kind of gotten into that...I dunno....rut? Where I have a few "classic" dishes that I tend to whip up but nothing really new or exciting lately. I'll make some beef stew, or some Italian sausage pasta, or some chicken soup or something....especially with it being winter now, stews and soups and chilis are A+ tier. But that means I'm doing a lot less experimentation with like West African jollof rice and beef suya, or Korean budae jjigae, or Brazilian feijoada. So since I'm not really breaking any new ground culinarily, there isn't much to post there. Though I know my Momfops would LOVE to see me make chilaquiles again. As long as I remember no cilantro for her.

Another thing, thankfully I have a library literally like half a mile from me. So, I've been heading there like...every week/every other week, and checking out a few books to read. Dadfops has been recommending a lot of sci-fi and fantasy novels for me to check out and right now I got "Coyote" by Allen Steele on my reading list. And then I'm also looking through the non-fiction section as I like learning about stuff, so I got a book on Shinto, and one on Democratic Socialism. Had another book on the poetry of the Persian scholar, Rumi but read through that, and same with one on the famous Japanese haiku poet, Matsuo Basho.

And ya know, another silly thing that's really been helping me out with the whole therapy thing...and yeah, pretty much every babyfur (myself included) saw this coming...Bluey. How an Australian kids show can, in seven minute episodes, pack so many valuable mental health lessons that...I honestly never got growing up the first time. It's been an invaluable tool for me to help process my emotions and keep myself a bit more balanced if I can just...pause for a bit and watch the Bluey episode that kind of....fits what I'm feeling. Whether that's "Perfect" or "Space" or "Stickbird" or "Bike" or "Curry Quest"...it's like...I get to process those emotions and realize I have my found family to help me along the way. It's...it's incredible honestly.

But yeah, that's kind of what's been going on lately. I've kind of settled into a bit of a routine, been finding ways to manage and work through the trauma from my first childhood, finally accept and live in the love of my found family, continue in doing my hobbies and getting through work.

Maybe I should post here more often...maybe long-form posting...like journaling here...might help more. I dunno.