Of Stress and Squishmallows

13,370 Days Alive

1 New Squishmallow Added to my Collection of Stuffed Animals

I was deprived of a proper childhood. I grew up in an often hellacious, neglectful, and abusive home. So now I enjoy some simpler pleasures, like stuffed animals and doing origami, when stressed out.

I barely made it through this week. I was a millimeter away from catastrophic breakdown.

Fen bought me a new Squishmallow, a popular with people who have sensory issues toy. It’s a stuffie. And they’re soft and, as the name implies, squishy. This one is a pink, cheetah-printed puffball with a teeny tiny gold crown atop her head. Her tag said her name was “Brandi” and that she’s a teacher.

I also have an owl shaped Squishmallow. I don’t remember it’s name, but I’ve loved it to lumpiness. Heh. And I’ve a tiny Hershey’s Halloween bay vampire thing as well. They’re all adorable and such a good texture.

Fen and I did some parallel play this evening. We just played around with origami paper and made various creatures. I made a little blue froggie that hops! His name is Jazz. Because he’s blue? It made sense in my head.

Work had me vomiting from stress again this afternoon. Not fun.

I can’t go to Amanda’s funeral. I don’t have the gas money to get out to where they live, more than halfway across the state. That makes me sad. I wish I hadn’t needed my meds so badly that I spent my last little bit on groceries, meds, and gas for the week. I’m squeezing pennies until I get paid on Friday.

Maybe I’ll come into a sudden windfall. Like find twenty bucks on the ground or get Fen’s half of the electric paid early? I dunno. I’m sure someone would spot me a few bucks if I asked. But I am quite unlikely to ask.

Prideful nature and all that.

Well, I’m off to burrow into blankets, surround myself with stuffed animals, and pass out.

Take your meds, folks.

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