By Any Other Name
the tale of Willow

Willow
Date: 02:05PM | Sat, August 25th | 2012
Subject: Ow
Security: Public
Mood:pained pained
Tags:--

1. My groceries came, yay grocers

2. While getting them, something in my legs gave out, I stumbled, weaved and fell, brought down and fell on a trashcan, slammed my knees into wet outdoor carpet, and my hands scratch on cement. Totally alarmed the guy who delivers my groceries.

3. Now I have sore knees, a sore aching back, a sore side, bruised elbows, sore hands, a sore neck. So much damn ow.

4. Having groceries is good. Having mango juice and lamb is good. Falling is not so good. Seriously not so good. Was already having nerve pain this week. Is this day a draw?

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Willow
Date: 01:18PM | Fri, August 24th | 2012
Subject: --
Security: Public
Tags:--

Trying to work myself into going to therapy today. Been trying since 6am. Somehow I don't think it's going to work. Once upon a time I could have bribed myself with some treat; and by myself I mean the aspects of me that feel things the most. But I can't eat a whole lot anymore in terms of 'treats'. And stores have changed on top of everything. I'm more likely toget the few things I can have and do want treatwise by jyst buying groceries and having them delivered - rather than trying to hit certain stores downtown in the middle of a hot afternoon, via walking, while in pain and dealing with... feelings.

I figured something the nurse practitioner who's part of the clinic of lies - but whom was spoken to by my therapist; I've figured out this thing she did this past week and a half of having someone call me and tell me basically that my meds are hostage to coming in for an appt, has me pissed, furious and panic attack upset. This kind of with-holding or threatening to, something fundamental to my well being in order to coerce my compliance, doesn't go well with me. It's a HUGE trigger. And now, having finally recognized there's no way I'm forcing myself in to see her (I cancelled the first forced appt due to personal issues that were unrelated) - I'm still too wound up.

I can type. not feeling at all vocal. Gong to therapy feels like it'd be stressing out with getting there to sit and glare at the therapist. And then after time spent trying to warm up to speak, having to focus to get back home again and nothing along the way to congratulate myselves for going through it. Little goals, little prizes. Right now I have none.

I'm achy and shaking and randomly in tears over this, but if I manage to call him and get more than an eek out.... I LOATHE the insecurity of therapist's email. It being the reason I don't have his address, because it's not secure so nothing personal can be put on there, blah blah blah. So I can't communicate this way and have to 'talk'. Out loud. And that's just not happening.



---
Distracted side note; iJay is a ghostland. Yeah. Still haven't fully thought through how that will be dealt with. Basically no one I follow etc posts there anymore or do so rarely when they remember to xpost from DW. And I've got wound up emotions with lost links to post due to DW issues and trying to repost and fix them and deleting and lost history and being unable to back up my journal brain and... ugh. Old ish. Old old ish. But getting to a state of prominent 'need to move on/take care of'.

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Willow
Date: 08:06AM | Thu, May 17th | 2012
Subject: From Internet Flicker To Red Light Failure
Security: Public
Tags:--

My internets has gone from bad to broken, very broken. And I keep calling and they keep saying - oh, we've figured it out. They have NOT, figured it the france out. I am disappoint and frustrated and sad. I had plans today. Eff.

WTA: Apparently there's going to be a service technician coming out to the house sometime today - supposedly. WTFF? I dn't even understand.

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Willow
Date: 03:00AM | Sun, May 13th | 2012
Subject: Other News
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--, about my mother

It's mother's day. It's arse o'clock in the morning, but it's still mother's day. And I survived other mother's day by thinking of all the amazing mothers I know; Karnythia, Kita06, Zvi's Mum & Aunt. But my mother called me yesterday to remind me today's mother day and to demand a gift. Or as I like to think of it; tribute.

I haven't bought a gift for my mother for mother's day, for more than 10+ years. I think at some point in the last couple of years I might have managed to send her a card. Maybe. Usually I treat myself to something special and either leave the house and relax in a bookstar and buy something, or go out to lunch or something. I care for me on mother's day; care for the aspects of myself that desperately needed mothering and never got it. I have a lot of thoughts on that, all wrapped up together - sparked by conversations I've observed online about black mothers protecting their children and being care-givers but not necessarily being able to the tenderness perhaps desired because of their own traumas, because of the battles they were facing; intergenerational trauma compounded. I know I love my mother (can't help it), while respecting and loathing her at the same time. And it's all complex and spun around involving the ways in which she did stand up for me, have my back and push me and the ways in which she utterly failed me, refused to see me and physically and emotionally damaged me.

It's complex.

And, this year, she wants tribute. And this year it's the first time in a long time, the very thought of it being mother's day makes it hard to breathe. There's this skin crawling, scratch inducing heavy weight - just from those simple words. And her 'assurance' that it's the 'thought that counts'. But y'know, I have until next week for something to arrive in the mail.

And I hate it. I hate it. And I know, I know I could just ignore it. Ignore her. Call her, hold my breath and never send 'tribute'. But then what happens? She's still a node to cross to interact with my siblings. And I made the decision to keep dealing with her for access to them.

But I hate this... mode. This frantic running around like a headless, self-harming chicken trying to think of what could 'please her' and thus allow me to live (emotinally) for another year. I've only fucking well just worked up to bying her Christmas and Birthday gifts again. Just last effing year. And now this? That was my mistake, wasn't it? Buying her a gift, setting up expectations. And now. Now this - horror.

And this after a day where I ended up doing phone call running around, because ven though we both have issues dealing w/ people on the phone. Somehow... 'can you do this for me', and me doing it - isn't a 'gift'. It's 'daughter responsibility' / 'sister responsibility'. And fuck. I hate that such seemingly little things, aren't. Aren't little. There are boundary pushing and self harm activating and make me want to eat charcoal and vomit for hours.

Ugh.

ETA: Tribute Purchased. My brother needs go get to college in Sept. I can't fuck this up.

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Willow
Date: 11:04PM | Sat, April 28th | 2012
Subject: The Upper Reaches Of The Painscale
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--, pain scale 9

I may either crawl to an ER or Clinic of Fucking Doom & Unprofessionalism on Monday - depending on my levels of pain. I missed a day, due to pain; half sleeping, half curled up with the cat not sleeping. Today I managed to check in online once. I am currently in so much pain I'm crying. So I think, yeah, crawl somewhere in hopes of someone willing to believe the levels of pain and give me a PT referral or something; because even lying down isn't helping unless I"m asleep and the pain goes from groin up over my hip, over my buttock, down the back of my leg, to the bottom of my foot, to the tips of my toes. One long branching line of pain. And lidoderm patches aren't helping and I don't have big whoop droopy painkillers in the house anymore and I've had enough l-trytophane to equal one huge turkey all by myself. So... of course, while in this much pain, my wanting to be around other people goes down so much, so I say I may need to go somewhere on Monday. And then on Monday, I may rather curl up in a corner and suffer than have to travel by jerky, bumpy bus, limping along with my cane, and have strangers touch me.

My longing for a medical professional I feel even somewhat safe with. I just... I can't begin to describe it. No fuzzy feelings and hair stroking and then putting me on a bunch of drugs I'm allergic to, and then telling me when I swell up due to allergens I just need to eat less. No bullying me into taking medicines I don't want or need or have pointed out I have averse reactions to. Just... shit. I'm talking myself out of going anywhere near a damn white coat on monday.

Anyway, alive. Just, in pain. A lot of pain. Earlier it dipped down to 8, 8.5 and I peeked in on twitter and managed a reply and despite it being a 9, I just peeked in on chat. But I'm beginning to be honest and realize it's BEEN at 9 for daaaaaaaaays now. And I've been denying it and pushing myself and thinking my brain was just being 'weird' for being unable to think. But y'know, I'm pretty sure a 9 on the painscale and still cooking at least 1 meal a day for myself, is huge -cause 9 probably means 'brain quit now'. And I should have noticed I was eating less and cooking less and it meant something. But....

Anyway, making statement. In public. On journal. And the funny thing? I'm not even suicidal. I have so discovered that is primarily a coping mechanism for anxiety. Self harm and no more Willow is because Willow has become to anxious to live in her own skin. Pain? Pain just means curling up like a snail under salt and trying very hard not to whimper. And thinking odd thoughts like; as a wounded animal, I am very dangerous, cause I might rip someone's throat out with their teeth if they caused me any more.

And yet? Took me days to catch a clue. This endurance bullshit in my head? Is some... don't even have words for how messed up it is. And I can't even blame a Catholic childhood! Cause at no time am I thinking enduring it all is making be a better/blessed/saintly person. I'm not doing much thinking at all.

Oh yeah, tried to call my therapist and ended up in a fucking loop where it wouldn't go the the voicemail system only to their human messaging service - who refused to take any messages cause they should have been open. I finally hung up, being on the phone and focusing for that shit was too much effort. I was about to fall over.

I am sitting on three pillows to write this and things are still only at an 8.5. And slowly climbing. So enough effing update about how half my body is simmering quietly in a pool of electrical agony and fire pain.

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Willow
Date: 12:38AM | Fri, April 20th | 2012
Subject: Somedays... stab stab stab cut stab.
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--

Despite all my attempts to focus on my teeth; mouth washes and special toothpastes and flossing. I just found what I think is a cavity. Luckily, I have a dentist appointment tomorrow. Unluckily I think it might be a case of, which cavity to fill and come back in two months. And this appointment had been postponed twice because of the holidays and me coming to terms with needing fillings at all; trying to get over feeling like a failure. Now, when I KNOW I've been conscientiously handling my orgal hygiene, including washing my mouth out with water at the very least after damn near every meal. The low I feel right now... well, it's not suicidal. But it's FUCKING damn debilitating depressed. And I've tried for hours to just cope; but maybe writing it out will help.

Because I have to get to that appointment tomorrow, no matter how my body or brains might feel.

PS: Yes, this mental state struggle? Yet another fucking reminder my mind's broken.

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Willow
Date: 05:54PM | Fri, March 30th | 2012
Subject: Long Day
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--, --self care--

Have lamb. Ground cloves may be causing the peeling on my hands and NOT the lamb. Also, in other news; DW does something different w/ cookie handling now, compared to LJ - which may be the problem with LJ Archive. Wonder if that explains why every two months or so, my DW logs out despite me having long term cookies on, and telling it to remember?

PS: Would people with birthdays on April 1 actually let me know you have an actual bday on April 1st? Cause I see it come up, and I'm all - are they just being funny for when DW asks for their info? I would like to actually wish you happy birthday.

ETC: Such a long day. I can't even.

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Willow
Date: 06:37PM | Fri, March 16th | 2012
Subject: --
Security: Public
Tags:--

So, I find out from the landlady, in conversation about something else (called w/ a question), that upstairs has been put back on the rental market. So that's good to officially know. Wish I could get resulting news about the stupid court case that's got me...very fed up and upset and - can't talk about it.

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Willow
Date: 06:16PM | Fri, January 13th | 2012
Subject: uuurgh
Security: Public
Tags:--

I just wrote a statement for the upstairs neighbour concerning the domestic disturbance that happened upstairs in Dec. She said I wouldn't have to go to court. I've no idea if that's true or not. But for the sake of her kids, I also know that writing a statement is ok for me. Because if it helps her bring charges against the man, and get some safety and space or a restraining order or something - then good.

More thoughts later on therapy and doctors and bloodtests and just - medical drama and exhaustion and how the blood tests the could have been good, now freaks me out doctor wants me to take are apparently tests an endocrinologists would request.

Did get blood taken today - just not where I thought. And, there's... Stuff.

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Willow
Date: 04:58PM | Mon, December 12th | 2011
Subject: --
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--

I have no idea if this itching is hormonal, like my mother suggested last month. Chemical, like I thought this past week (chemical allergy) or what. It's slowly dying down again and I'm grateful. Meanwhile, I am fending off physical ughness. Ugh on physical ughness. Hoping to be better by tomorrow though. In the meantime, the dvds I wanted to make for my sister; my test disc, apparently took 6 hrs to render and I forgot to check the box to burn it to the damn disc, so it's just a set of folders on my desktop. And just - nope. Nope nope nope. At least the stuff for my other sibs has begun to arrive in the mail.

**deep breaths**

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Willow
Date: 09:46PM | Mon, October 24th | 2011
Subject: I am so hungry.
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--

But I don't want to cook anything. I'm not sure I can. I have some severe itching I've been trying to deal with. I feel depressed because I thought I'd found a supplament to my meal times and instead, OMGosh am I paying for it now. The thought of looking at food, depresses me. I don't want to try and figure out how my brain should make any meal. I just look in the cupboards and they all look bear, given how many things I've had to set aside.

I think if I leave the house right now, the only option would be a CVS for chips for dinner. And possibly not. It's getting late.

I know there's a positive here. And the positive is that I'm no longer just taking this stuff for granted, thinking my skin was be acting up again, etc. Last night I didn't catch it, I thought the air was dry. Today as the itching increased and went to my skin, I realized, oh, this won't be solved by a bath and buying a humidifer. I didn't catch it this morning, when I saw my eyes were puffy and crusted over. But Im just... I'm tired. And I can't talk to my mom about this, cause everytime I mention a reaction, she's... not the most supportive if it's outside the realm of things she doesn't have interest in me not eating.

And the relentless itching...

Oh yeah and the pimples and other grossness on my scalp, overnight. Seriously. I just...

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Willow
Date: 04:26AM | Mon, October 24th | 2011
Subject: May Have Found A Name For Some Of My Pain
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--

Paid attention to it. Looked it up. And now I can't stop crying. It makes it real, all of a sudden.

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Willow
Date: 02:21AM | Sun, October 23rd | 2011
Subject: ...
Security: Public
Mood:sick sick
Tags:--

Ever feel so sick, you think should you sneeze, stuff will just shoot or ooze out of all your orifices? Pores included? I keep tripping, falling into ickiness. Or maybe I caught a cold/am still recovering from pror food allergens and I'm not reacting to canned peaches or the corn syrup therein. Good news for the day; black mape beans make a good rice substitute, taste kind of like sprouted rice.

Now I go collapse and dream of OJ which is not in the house, and hope to feel better when I wake up and less headchy, eye throbby, stomach swirl-burny ick. I keep trying to look at the bright side, though. I'm NOT taking feeling like crap as NORMAL and to be endured at the moment. That's a plus in some column somewhere, I'm sure.

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Willow
Date: 08:25AM | Mon, October 3rd | 2011
Subject: --
Security: Public
Mood:... ...
Tags:--

Eff you bank of america. I just got out of brain explosion/broken mind place. And now anxiety about if I have everything I need to transfer my account to another place and filling out paperwork has my brain going kaboomracingbroken again. I'm ... can't even describe. Not sure how I'm trackiing, if I'm tracking, if I should leave the house in this state - even though - I can't think.

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Willow
Date: 08:50PM | Sun, September 4th | 2011
Subject: Making It Plain
Security: Public
Mood:tired of being misunderstood tired of being misunderstood
Tags:--

My post on asexual diversity - was a post where I pondered the voices it felt like I haven't been hearing in the conversations I've found. I do not believe pondering at the lack of different perspectives in the writing provided to be erasing the fact that there (obviously) are asexuals from all backgrounds, ability status and varied ethnicities and cultures.

ETA: I've also realized I've been hunting down old posts, not just because a timeline of things would be good to have. But because I felt I had to prove I've been steadily trying to figure things out. As if I don't know what I search engine, and look up, and ponder all the time. As if, if I don't have published proof of my thoughts, then what I've been trying to sort out for myself isn't real. I realized I was looking for proof for one particular person, because I felt my feelings would not be recognized/believed/supported otherwise. I've realized that I've subconsciously been thinking, that this person represented the whole of an identity label, and every single person using that identity label would be just like per; demanding proof.

I haven't been afraid of myself and where my thoughts go. I've been afraid of that person; of their judgement, of possibly losing their companionship and affection. Which seems bitterly ironic, all told, as I'm in the midst of re-evaluating my own wants and needs, past compromises and definite lack of prior enthusiastic consent in things.

I'm making this realization public, so I can't hide this fear/forget this apprehension and despair.

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Willow
Date: 04:52PM | Mon, June 27th | 2011
Subject: ....
Security: Public
Mood:indescribable indescribable
Tags:--

Weirdish, but not bad day. House has now switched from DirectTV for Comcast (Xwhatever). A process that took hours even AFTER the waiting for the cable guy. In other news, landlady is just all 'So Amazing' that I have renter's insurance. And also, apparently despite having a cat, my carpet is in better condition than things upstairs with upstairs neighbour - who swears they walk around w/o shoes upstairs. And stuff...

Oh and mother wanted to bad-talk my brother at me, and I told her I had to go to the bathroom; cause I'm not going to listen to her justifying the things she does to us when we reach a certain age. Especially not my brother who doesn't just sit there and take it like I did.

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Willow
Date: 08:19PM | Wed, June 22nd | 2011
Subject: I say hey. I say hey nonnie nah.
Security: Public
Mood:sore, exhausted, hungry sore, exhausted, hungry
Tags:--, energy level 2.5, pain scale 7

I <3 my dentist. I respect him. I feel safe with him. I have my first cavity filled today; didn't need a shot. It was all over in 20 mins if that. And I could come home and have a pomogranite ice lolly. Which is helping tide me over as I work up the energy to cook something. Oh seriously, bread is so damn simple - except when it's gluten free (and thus expensive or time consuming).

In others news; Regional Grocery Store Chain is closing down. I'd heard rumours but walked into a half naked supermarket today. Picked up the ice lollies (at a tiny discount) cause who knows if the chain taking over (whenever it takes over) will carry the stuff I like. I'm all a boggle.

Note to self: Remind Dr. Yoda about Advocate.

Related to that, filled out a transport assist paperwork today, first time was 4 years ago when I didn't end up hearing back. The sad bit? In 4 years? My situation has gotten worse. True, I've only had a year being treated for hypothroid and only a few months figuring out the gluten allergy situation. But back then I'd only had the cane for a few weeks and honestly said I hoped the situation wasn't lasting. Now I desperately need help getting to certain appointments due to pain and axiety issues and crappy transit schedules; I laugh when questions mention stairs; and I have to admit the limits of my free range movement is about 3 blocks with a good 10 minute rest and if stretched out to -6- blocks, as I need in order to get the right bus home; leaves me too in pain and exhausted to make myself a good and proper dinner - thus as I find myself right now, all ow and hunger and wishing I was young enough to live off ice-lollies and didn't need good protein.

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Willow
Date: 02:46AM | Thu, December 16th | 2010
Subject: Adding Insult To injury
Security: Public
Mood:--
Tags:--

Got home last night, tried to do some research on computer situation - upstairs apt tripped the breakers, no electricity, computer shut off. And when I turned it on a little while ago, I realized my firefox session data had been corrupted. I didn't panic. I thought I knew how to fix it. Apparently I forgot - I knew the parts, but not the how.. So it's permanently lost now. All my sessions saved since, I don't know when. I tell you, December is... well. I laugh AND I weep. I can't tell you how many things I'd saved for later, how many tabs I'd had open - the new ones I can find again. The old ones? Nope. I feel assaulted, I really do. And I still have to do research to try and save the stuff on the external harddrive, now with even more parts of myself missing.

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By Any Other Name
of Willow
January 2016