Monday, September 1, 2014

In which Tryph is something of a makeup junkie

Maybe I just need purpose in writing, maybe that'll help make things that much easier to get words on the screen.

Who knows.

Anyhow, I've become a bit of a makeup junkie, so I'd like to make Mondays a day where I review and talk about the different brands I've tried, my experiences and all that.

First up, DuWop - Eyecatchers.

I was so excited to try this one out.  I love eye pencils that can be both a shadow or a liner.  The double duty pencil is definitely something that gets a lot of use in my makeup drawer.  So about a year ago I stopped by the local drug store and picked it up.

I have been miserable with it since I got it.  I don't know if it was just a bad batch, or it is just the formula, but I really hated this stuff.

It was dry, didn't sharpen well and nothing I could do to it would make it go on my eyes evenly.  I tried heat (it just made it firmer, had the texture of a crayola crayon), and the tip kept snapping off every time I sharpened it.  The only thing that worked to get any kind of a line was running it under hot water for about 30 seconds.

Which would end up making the tip so soft that it'd snap off anyhow.

Overall, I don't know if I'd give DuWop another chance.

What makes me really sad is that this was the closest colour to Raven by MAC that I've been able to find.

Next week, mascara.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

In Which Tryph Wages War

Depression is something that has been on my mind a lot lately, which isn't really a surprise given that it took the life of much loved comedy icon Robin Williams just over a week ago.

I've been trying to find a way to scrape the words together to share my thoughts on this disease, and some of my own experiences and struggles with it.

Let me first say that I've always described depression as a battle, but I'm thinking that's not quite the right word for it.  Depression is an all out war.  It's a war of perception (internal, external, imagined, and real).  It's a war of voices (again, internal, external, imagined and real).  It's a war against yourself, for yourself, if that makes sense.  It's a war for and against everyone who loves you.

And I call it a war because it's a series of battles and skirmishes, sometimes they don't last long and sometimes they feel like they'll never end.  Sometimes you can go a long time between battles, and others they're back to back to back.  It's impossible to know what battle you're facing, and even worse, you have no idea how many battles are happening at the same time.

I have fought a war with depression since I was at least 12, but maybe younger.  When I think back to being a child, I don't remember being truly happy or content, but maybe I'm just jaded in my old age.

Anyhow, I have managed to successfully wage this war, and it's not always been by choice.  There have been many times that I've tried to take my own life, both as a child and as an adult.  Depression isn't a war I was always committed to winning.

Because you can't win every war.  You can't win every battle.

I'm not condoning suicide, please don't get me wrong.  I am an advocate for the fact that things can get better if you're willing to keep fighting the fight, but I understand how tiring it can be to wage a war every day.  Sometimes something has to give.

People are compassionate when a cancer patient asks to stop their treatments because they're not seeing progress, and are tired of the fight.
People campaign for the right for someone in terminal or palliative care to be able to access compassionate assisted suicide.

And yet if someone loses the war to depression, it's considered "selfish".

Suicide isn't selfish.  I'm not saying it's right, but it isn't selfish in any way.  It's just... it just is.  In the moment that a depressed person makes the choice to end it, and actually takes action... it becomes as natural as breathing or brushing your teeth.

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I don't really think I added much to the discussion on depression to be honest, but since writing this post has been bugging the crap out of me for months... I'm just going to post it.  Maybe we can talk, and others can share their stories.

Thanks for reading.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

In which Tryph is never the same girl twice...

This is the soundtrack of this blog post.  I hope the music makes it easier for me to finish writing it.  I've always found music liberating like that.



I've been trying to write this blog post for about 3 or 4 months now, and just haven't been able to quite form the right words.  Everything keeps coming out contrived and wrong.  I haven't quite been able to hit the right tone in what I'm trying to say.  There has also been the fear that anything I write here will be read into, ripped apart and reassembled, but I suppose that is always a risk that you take when you put your thoughts on the internet.

Anyhow, I'll just try to say it plainly.  I have changed a lot in my life, and I will continue to change as I move through it.

Sometimes these changes have been negative.  I cannot and will not deny my self destructive nature, and the times I succumbed to it.  The times I blamed others for my choices and my faults.  The times I spoke before I thought.  The times I acted without all of the information.  There are many times within my history that I did not like the person I was.

In fact I have spent a lot of time listening to the negative voices both inside and around me.  No one has ever torn me down more than I have though... and this post isn't about anyone else.

A year ago, I wrote that I wanted to be deleted.  I was lost in a fog of pain, and sorrow and regret.  A miasma of "could have been" or "should have been" swirled in my wake.

I was full of toxicity in every sense of the word.  I was bordering on alcoholism with how often I would be completely wasted.  I took more pills than were absolutely necessary to sleep... sometimes for 24-48 hours at a time.  And my heart was poison.  Full of hate and anger and jealousy...

A year ago, and beyond that I was at a very low point.  I felt like I couldn't get ahead, and in truth I couldn't because I was holding myself back.

Then things changed.  I don't know what it was, but something changed.  I wish I could take ownership of it myself, but I don't rightly know what caused the shift, but something caused it.  Maybe it was resorting to a job I dreaded having to take.  Maybe it was finally cutting ties to the man who wasn't right for me in any way.  Maybe it was realizing how badly I had screwed myself financially and learning to accept help in surviving.  Maybe it was finding people who chose not to dwell on darkness and negativity.  Maybe it was recognizing that I was anything but fit for my son, and a major overhaul was necessary to make myself right for him.

Maybe it was all of that, or none of it.  I don't know, but I know that where I am right now... a year later I'm in a much better place.

My heart still sometimes hurts, and I still sometimes cry over what could have been.  I'm still not good enough in a lot of respects, but I'm more than good enough in others.

I am confident in who I am, and I don't need anyone else to tell me who I am, or what I need to be... because honestly, by the time they're done talking, I probably won't be the same.

Thanks for listening.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

In which Tryph is still stuck on Passive things

I've gone on about how interpersonal relationships have been negatively impacted by things like social media... but I've been thinking a lot about all of this, and the issue is a lot bigger than just the interpersonal side.

It's the armchair activists that have me pretty frustrated tonight.

There's so much TALK, so many petitions... but so little action out there.

I realize that the conversation has to start somewhere, and that talk is always a part of the solution, but it's got to go beyond that.  Do the research, find out how to help and what can be changed from your own point of view or position.  BE the change, don't just talk about it.

This idea started in my head when someone on facebook shared one of the most disgusting videos I have ever seen.  It depicted a young woman sitting on a bed with a tiny baby.   I'm not sharing it here because honestly sharing it won't change anything... But the baby was crying and this young girl/woman was hitting him.  He was screaming, and she slapped him, hit him with a pillow, kicked him, and shoved his hands away when he reached out to her for some kind of solace.  

It was absolute heartbreak to watch.

The idea of sharing the video was to make it go 'viral' so that someone could 'save that baby'.  And I get it, the idea isn't a horrible one.  It's just... misguided.  Do you have any idea how many babies right now, both in the third world and in our own back yards, are going through this?

It happens every single day, in every single country to any and all children.

If you see a video depicting horrible violence against a child, maybe move to do more than just share the link.  If it's something you feel passionate and moved to do something about... look into things like child sponsorship (which helps provide education, birth control and various other things) or look into how to support and advocate for local groups.  Schools are always in need of parent volunteers.  There are many ways to actually GET INVOLVED in ending things like child abuse.

The same thing goes for other issues out there.  Homelessness, poverty, hunger, mental heath issues... the list is endless.  Next time you feel compelled to share a tweet about something... just... consider how you could actually help.  Raising awareness is only the first step.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

In Which Tryph... has no bloody clue

Another night, another thousand words... give or take.

Here's the problem though, I have no bloody clue what to write about.  I mean, there are a few things I could touch on, but honestly I don't think now is the right time to get into it.  So here I am instead, without much to say in particular.

But I need to write, get back into the habit of it so I'll write a stream of consciousness, whatever pops into my head will go into this page.  I really don't recommend reading it, but if you do, umm... enjoy?

I wrote those words about five minutes ago, and nothing.  I'm pretty terrible at this, but I'm determined to not let the blank page beat me.  Far too often I've thrown the towel in on myself and my goals, we aren't going to let that happen again.

Oh here, what about this.  So the thing that sparked this really, the....

Not gonna lie.  I put the laptop down, went and took my iron, played a few levels of candy crush, confirmed a friend request on failbook, lamented about the fact that too many of my friends live in other countries and thus won't be able to spend my birthday with me, and only now just came back here.  I am pathetic at staying on topic.

And this is part of the overall problem that I have with writing.  It isn't just the phsyical act that I struggle with, it's the lack of focus and direction.  I suddenly find everything absolutely distracting and pay more attention to that instead of what I'm supposed to be doing.

Before you tell me to eliminate my distractions... let me tell you that I always find something else to look at or pay attention to, even if I shut my phone off, disable my wifi, and lock myself in a room all on my own.  Without fail, I will find something to occupy my thoughts.  (Just now, I did the math to tell me how many lines I'd have to type if each line has on average 20 words before I hit my goal of 1000.  The answer, a simple 50, which I honestly already knew, but still took the time to open my calculator to get the answer anyhow).

It's like I sabotage myself every step of the way.  Like I’m working against myself, and maybe I am.  Success is a terrifying thing, isn’t it?  The idea that something I created could actually go somewhere, take off and generally be pretty damned awesome.

Failure is easy, success is hard.

I suppose this is why I often give up.  It’s easier to revel in the security that things couldn’t get better, than it is to climb.

I’m aware that I’m not making a lot of sense, or maybe I am.

Blergh, I’m tired, you’re going to have to forgive me, but I did say that this was going to be a stream of consciousness pile of drivel… perhaps next time I’ll get closer to my goal, since I’m clearly falling short of my 100 words here.  I’m not going to complain… maybe I’ll write a few of the long put off emails I’ve been meaning to write.

That actually sounds like a good idea.  This is my plan. 

Peace out bitches.