I’m just popping in for a little hello, a pic, an animated little McCartney video and most importantly, to give thanks.

I’ve receive some wonderful comments, messages, emails, stories, thank you ❤

I think I said it best on my twitter last night~


I was browsing through my meticulously organized 212 gigs of music today, letting myself feel stuff by listening to some favorite songs.  I have been thinking of lyrics that fit my feelings, and after sifting through Mountain Goats, Bright Eyes, Aesop Rock, Casiotones for the Painfully Alone and a handful of other bands, I happened upon an old favorite I hadn’t  song below, Paul McCartney & Wing’s Mamunia.

So the next time you see rain, it ain’t bad
Don’t complain, it rains for you.
The next time you see LA rainclouds
Don’t complain it rains for you and me.

I’m going to say again, thank you. The support I’ve received in the last 36 hours has been amazing. This is my 1,005th post on this blog, and I really feel like my “lifes work” has truly been for good. I won’t talk about doors my publicity has closed or the people who have tried to silence my voice (oh crap i just did), I’d much rather focus on the influx of love and support i’ve received. The reciprocal nature of the comments has made me really realize how kind the hearts of this community are. I’ve been here with you for a long, long time, and I feel more welcome than ever.

A seed is waiting in the earth
For rain to come and give her free,
So the next time you see LA rainclouds
Don’t complain, it rains for you.

I’m still hurting, but i’ve found the courage to ask for help and for a sympathetic ear. This is the first step in a long process, and due to the responses I’ve received I’m confident I’m going to be able to weather the storm. Feel the rain down my back, to crawl through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side. I’m quoting songs and movies at the same time, that means it’s time to go. Oh, and Mamunia means “Safe House” in Arabic. This community is my safe house, a place where I can express myself without fear or retribution. Thank you for the love. I haven’t any words.

Here’s a cute nappy pic from a recent trip to Maryland. Your little girl is still your little girl. Don’t worry ❤


Safe Squishy Snuggler

::Some sad stuff, some emotional stuff, some deep down feelings from this little girl, read at your own discretion, preferably with a stuffy::

Hi there friends ~ this is Riley, that diaper girl who used to blog relatively often. Over these last 3 months (!!!) I have been traveling, getting medical things done to me (not the fun kind), writing, a little bit of wreckless abandon,  and a little bit of hiding because I sometimes get sad and don’t know how to deal with it. I’ve been reading as well, at times we need a little spark to re-motivate us and put things into perspective, ABJane’s Blog has been that spark.

I am afraid of emotions sometimes. I think that’s why I stopped taking hormones for a while. It’s also probably why I stopped writing this blog. I could also draw parallels to keeping most everyone at arms length, be it friends or family or lovers. Or why I’ve never kept a therapist for more than a few appointments. Drinking, doping in all it’s forms, is another way to toggle my emotional switch to off. None of these things are good for me. I grew up in a world where emotions were stifled, growing up with an “M” instead of the proper “F” forced upon me was the first step in the construction of the walls around me. My relationship and grooming by a college professor at 14, constantly sparring with my alcoholic stepdad and my physically abusive mother,  bullying and hostility from the world around me, after all this in my youth I decided to take the path less taken, and as a result spent much of my life as an individual, and alone. Even if i’m in a room full of friends, or being held by a lover, I still feel alone. I’m so afraid to talk to you people about these things. I’m so afraid you’ll hate me.

And that’s the key right there. I have had times of incredibly low self esteem, a fear that if I let people behind my walls, they’ll realize that i’m an awful person and leave me like so many others. Last year when my best friend died it broke me in two. I didn’t go to their funeral, I stayed home and drank myself into oblivion. I didn’t stop for months. All those feelings of loss, abandonment, fear of death and aging, were too much for my little girl heart. I still think about it everyday. I pulled myself out of the darkness but only enough to function, not enough to get better or really deal with my problems. I’ve been on the edge ever since, often toppling one way (hiding) or the other (caring). I’m such a terribly sensitive, empathetic person that I sometimes just shut down, the drawbridge goes up and I watch my life from far behind my eyes, as it’s the only way to not feel. That’s not very healthy, I hurt the most when I bottle things up.

I had to leave LA because I had 5 feet in the grave, and the last few inches of me were slowly sinking. I came to NY, to be with people I trust and to start being a full human being again rather than a mere shell of one. Since coming here, I have taken better care of myself than I was in LA, but haven’t been addressing the issues enough. I’ve been working part time, playing video games, trying to balance emotions and goals and booze and boredom. I have been doing about a D+ job, and i’m sitting at the computer speaking with you as a way to hopefully improve my grade. I need to care more, feel more, hide less, let in the sunshine and push out the darkness or at least balance the two.

This world has changed, and where I’ve pointed a ton of fingers at a ton of hurt i’ve experienced, I feel like I can actually talk about it now. Mental health is something that’s finally being discussed, not shushed or shamed. I’d like to think the openness I’ve shared on this blog was an additional drop in this cultural seachange, and it’s so, so, so important to me that I keep writing and expressing these things.

Thank you to those who listen to friends when they open up about their pain.

Thank you to those who accept, not dismiss, times of depression/anxiety/hurt in others.

Thank you to those who have written bloggers and kept them motivated.

and thank you Jane, you’ve opened doors for me that I was too afraid to open myself.

I’m not better. I’m not even OK, i’m not going to fake it. But i’m trying. I’m taking stock. I’ve called a therapist. I’ve reached out to friends. I still drink but in moderation, though that’s a windy ledge i’ve stood on before. I’m coming to better terms with the friends I’ve lost, and the people who I’ve hurt, and those who’ve hurt me. I’ve done some bad things, and had bad things done to me, but that doesn’t mean i’m a bad person. I’m starting to realize that.

The titles of the last few posts are Modest Mouse references. I didn’t listen to my favorite music for months, when I shut down I seriously shut down. I’m not making any promises to you, only to myself, but i’ll do my best to keep the Riley generator running. This little light of mine, I want to let it shine ❤

Hugs and love,

Riley K.