Honesty time

Non-fandom people: Do my fandom posts--the random squees and rambles, the fic, and so forth--annoy you or put you off my journal?

Fandom people: Do my non-fandom posts--the (admittedly rare) RL updates, personal rambles, angst, and so forth--annoy you or put you off my journal?

I am, for the first time, seriously considering splitting this journal into two: one (this one; it's too connected not to) mainly public for fic and so I can be as much of a giggly fantwat as I want without bothering the grown-ups; and one (a new account), probably at least half f-locked or filtered, for the RL and personal posts, which would also contain all the things I currently filter in this journal (sex, magic, angst, original fiction), so those here for my fic don't have to deal with them.

It would up the posting load (although in the end that's a good thing; I'm not updating nearly consistently enough), and I've always liked having just one journal, but...it's beginning to feel necessary.

Honesty time, mark II

Completely unrelated to last post; and I apologize for getting a bit spammy.

This is a long-overdue and very necessary public apology for all the missed phone calls, unanswered emails, and unacknowledged LJ comments you folks have experienced recently. Due to a couple of very unpleasant experiences in a row, starting about the beginning of December, my social anxiety alert level has been about red, at times so bad that receiving a two-sentence email or having my own partner in the house could send me into an advanced state of Not Dealing. I've been taking undue advantage of my semi-forcibly-unemployed state to hide alone in the apartment for hours at end, ignoring even LJ most of the time, and it's been helping; but even about a month of this has barely started to heal me.

Please, please understand: this has nothing to do with your actions. None of you, nobody at all, has directly attacked me, snubbed me, or done anything wrong. This is entirely a result of a fairly large number of my own issues, too involved to go into here, multiplying out of control. Over the past few months, I've been slowly coming to the highly uncomfortable and identity-undermining realization that I'm a lot sicker in the head than I'd like to admit, and that at times it can be just about impossible to stop my own sickness from hurting my friends and lovers.

One bit is not my fault; sometimes my phone just plain doesn't ring or doesn't let me know somebody's called. But the rest...

I'm sorry. And I wish I could just get better in an instant and have it all stop, but I can't. I think it's starting to clear, but it's hard to tell. But I'm so, so sorry.

A few notes

Re the seperating journals matter: Okay, yeah, you guys very much talked me out of it. *hides under blanket* I'll still try to update more though!

Christmas present from yunatwilight's parents: Advent Children. Now get to watch it second time and attempt to figure out WTF is going on. Reno and Kadaj are both sexy, sexy bitches. Vincent's entrance (especially as I remember it on a better screen than my old flatscreen monitor) is a prime demonstration of high color depth in CGI. Mmmmm, RED.

I'm writing! And, like, continuing to write! And actually constantly thinking about writing! SQUEE! The result of said writing, the Shitennou multiplication table, is up to ten ficlets out of fifteen, and I'll probably be adding more tonight (after I go take out 928374928347 tons of trash), for those few, if any, of you who're PGSM-literate.

...

...this writing thing is seriously boggling me. Right. The Tory needs more food and less trash. Off to work.