Remember?


Remember when I used to blog? Yeah, I barely remember either….

I’m watching Julie & Julia, the movie that started this whole blog off in the first place. I figured if Julie Powell could utilize her writing and cooking skills through a blog, that maybe I could try my hand at it too. At first, I wrote a lot about how much I loved Julia Child — her spirit, her television persona, her life. Then, I wrote complete and utter silly nonsense. All the time. I’d write a post almost every day, about the books I’d read, the things I noticed about people.I wrote sarcastic posts about boys who had rejected me. I wrote about my declining mental health. I wrote about writing. About college. The Bachelor. Rabbits. Dancing. Barney…

So when I started writing almost 7 years ago on this very site, I didn’t really expect my life to go this way. I thought I’d be a writer by now. Then I thought maybe I’d be a psychologist. Now I’m in cosmetology school, which I wouldn’t have predicted but definitely won’t complain about. Clearly this path hasn’t exactly been linear. I just…thought I’d have it all figured out by now. I’m 23, after all, and when I was 17, I trusted my future self to take care of everything.

This blog was my everything. I had a solid following, an actual subscriber base that cared about my wellbeing and loved my humor. It used to be called Writer’s Block. “You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll run kicking and screaming,” the caption at the top warned. A picture of typewriter keys occupied the banner. The web address? bymyink.wordpress.com. Now? Cappy Writes. A web address that matches the blog’s name. A picture of a packet of letters I bought at an antique shop. No tagline. A lot of sadness. Anger.

I’m not lamenting what used to be, really, so much as finally remembering. Realizing.

Obviously, I haven’t put the time and effort into blogging that I used to. At its peak, blogging was a tool to help me learn about and expand the world that I occupied. It was a way to gain support, to express myself, to hone a craft. It was pure. It meant everything to me. It was how I showed the world who I was, at a time when I thought I knew.

But the past few years haven’t been easy on me. My “mood disorder not otherwise specified” developed into generalized anxiety, a panic disorder, and depression. I was suicidal for a while when I was 18. I went through a surprisingly complicated breakup. I found Hinduism. It helped. New obstacles popped up. I got through them. I went to India. I got E. coli. I came out as bisexual. I graduated college, moved to a new city. I started cosmetology school. And through that all, the anxiety ebbed and flowed, but stayed mostly beneath the surface.

So now? I don’t know. I’m not okay, honestly. Something new is happening inside me, and I can’t understand it. I dealt with some serious depression over the summer, which is unusual for me, as it tends to stay contained within the “fall and winter seasonal affective” bubble. The panic disorder seems to have stayed away, which is one of the only things I find myself grateful for these days. The world doesn’t seem real lately, and neither do I. I’m going through the standard identity crisis that most people in their early 20s seem to experience, sure. But on top of that, some weird depersonalization/dissociation issues are cropping up. Therapy is happening. It’s rough, trying to stay afloat, stay alive, when you’re not even sure what’s going on anymore. I know all of that is vague, and I wish it could make more sense to me too. Just know that I’m dealing with it. I always do. I just don’t always know what to do anymore.

What does this all mean? In terms of this post, this blog, me, my life? I don’t know. All I know is, I got 15 minutes into watching Julie & Julia and I just got this itch to write. I’ve been cooking a lot lately, too. I’ve noticed that the worse I feel mentally, the more I cling to activities and people that used to make me feel calm and human and happy. This blog, more than anything, steadied my life when everything felt like it was going up in flames. So maybe it’s time to jump back in, ya know? To see a little humor in all the bullshit around me. To tell the world what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling. To share my story again with anyone willing to listen (and some who are very unwilling but are forced to because I’m a witch and I’ve hexed them).

So I’ll try, if you’ll help me. Your job is very simple: to show up and to read. I don’t even know how many of you are still out there, how many are new to my blog today, how many of you aren’t spam robots trolling through wordpress………

But yeah. I’ll try. No guarantees I’ll be funny, because half the time I just want to cry. But I’ll be here, writing into the abyss, for as long as you’ll have me.

 

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I Don’t Have Writers Block Anymore…


Hello, my little chickadees.

I’ve decided to change the name of my blog from Writer’s Block to Cappy Writes…because, really, Writer’s Block is just bad luck, isn’t it? You can still reach my website at bymyink.wordpress.com, but you can now also get to it through cappywrites.com. Which, really, is quite fancy. And much better than the dramatic bymyink that I set up at age 16.

Again, nothing has really changed, it just might look a bit different!

I love you all. Meow.

Oh, and Happy almost-Halloween!!!

Stop Being Useless and Start Being Pizza هرة


I’ve gotten some interesting searches recently…here, read some. Welcome to my world.

i hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited but im a creepy stalker – Well I’m glad you can confess this to someone, even if it is just Google and technically that isn’t a person…anyway, you should stop turning up out of the blue and telling people you’re a creepy stalker. Just a thought.

stop being useless and start being pizza – I agree. Also, I’m just going to assume this is addressed to boys because they can be very useless and I would much prefer that they were pizza.

how to get the penis point up – I really wouldn’t know, and if you’ve resorted to coming to this blog to find out, you’re going to be 1) sadly disappointed and 2) very unsuccessful at everything you do in life.

wild thornberry honey badger – You have combined two of my favorite things. Thank you, kind stranger.

threesome punchlines – Get off my blog. Now.

hipster winter clothes – They’re the same as their summer clothes. Badum chhhh! Get it?

blonde girls 4 years old – Please stop searching the internet for that kind of thing. It’s unnerving.

jazz+hands+driving = dangerous! So stop that right now! Hands at 10 and 2, kids. 10 and 2.

wrench – You are definitely in the right place…

marrying a short woman – Totally acceptable. Unless you’re really tall, in which case I would suggest that you save yourself for a tall woman. But it’s obviously up to you. Just don’t come crying to me when it all goes horribly awry.

make friends – You can’t force me, Mom! I know I’ve had an imaginary friend for a long time and other people told you it would be unhealthy for me. I know they said I wouldn’t make real friends. I know. But I like my life. I don’t want friends. They just hurt me, Mama!

you are awesome – Right back at ya! You are so awesome! Mainly because you came here. And this blog is awesome. So the awesome has rubbed off on you. It’s science, I swear.

هرة – I don’t know what this means, but it looks a little bit like Princess Leah smiling, so I’m down with it.

My top search of all time: cat. This is what I’ve become.

Random Strangers


Why I Blog

I don’t usually stop and ask myself why I do things, but recently I’ve been wondering why I blog. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

1. I want to make myself known in a world full of millions of writers, most of whom are a lot better at writing than I am. I want some random (but important) person (of influence) to stumble upon my blog and say “Whey hey! She’s so awesome! Quick, let’s get her published.” And then my life would be amazing and I’d be in college majoring in writing but I’d already be published. And that’d be awesome x10.

2. I want people to think I’m hilarious. Because I’m funny in real life, but then the word vomit comes and I turn into this massive weirdo (I mean to say everything I say…people just think my creepy side is accidentally showing. I’m being bloody funny, people). About 75% of me is on this planet to make people laugh. And the other 25% is here as an amazingly attractive individual who can spell her own name and walk in a straight line.

3. It’s easier to relate to random strangers sometimes. I’ve found some fantastically hilarious blogs and bloggers in the past couple months, and sometimes I wish I could get them all together and give them a group hug. Obviously that would ruin my anonymity, so it isn’t happening any time soon. But I’ll be dedicating a short story to them sometime (or maybe just a random sentence I write on a Post-It note…).

4. It’s relaxing. I like it. It pleases me. Me gusta.

5. I am just too hilarious for real life and need to extend my hilariousness to the interwebs. Because really, anyone who knows me will say that I ooze funny…like puss from a wound.
Aw, ewww.