|09:16AM | Mon, August 13th | 2012
|I Missed The Whole Olympics
Tumblr kept me up to date on stuff; that I then went and found on youtube. But not having cable - and being unable to get my digital converter to work (I had trouble getting cable without a power booster, so I'm beginning to wonder if a digital converter can work in my garden/basement apartment) - I wasn't even exposed to NBC, which seems more and more like it was a good thing.
Once upon a time I dreamed about the Olympics. I couldn't be pulled away from track and field (specifically) and gymnastics or rthymic gymnastics. And I really didn't do much at all - I didn't care to fuss to find anything.
I'm so tired of the Americancentric converage of so many things; of the white centric coverage - I just couldn't willingly go through any of it. My thoughts were with the athletes, all of them, but I couldn't make myself hunt down a stream to watch.
Given therapy this past Friday; I'm probably still fighting off a lot of depression and anxiety about some things (mentioned privately.) And I'm in shock, still, I think. It could last a little while, I'm told. There was one terrifying, horrible, black-hole, firepain, heart thumping horrifying moment that even thinking about to write this, leaves me with tears in my eyes and the slight shakes.
Meanwhile... meanwhile iJay's gotten extremely lonely - in the sense of not that many people writing about their daily lives here anymore. Which isn't good. Journal network/socializing helps me feel less disconnected from the world. That hasn't been happening lately. I have priorities to figure out.
I should be asleep right now; but I'm currently wound up. I contemplating popping outto pick some things up, since I am up. But Friday utterly exhausted me. With additional pain issues. It kind of scared me. My therapist mentioned a huge shock, even just emotional can make the body crave protein to heal. I think it's also tensed me up, set my skeleton out of tune again, and walking on Friday didn't help - nor did carrying a heavy bag of groceries (other people stop in a restaurant for a treat of a meal, I buy and cook mine at home to prevent allergies).
Thursday and Wed, I was having serious tracking issues. At one point I went outside and forgot I'd just turned the stove on. I'm fine. The apt is fine. I do need to buy a new frying pan. But it's making me hesitant to leave the house - Friday's exhaustion likely also came from how much concentration it took to be out dealing with traffic and strangers.
Also the latter half of the year's beginning to be a very anxiety inducing, depressing time for me.
I accidentally picked up the same shirt I was wearing then, thought it was clean. It wasn't. I'd put it aside, wondering if the problem might be the shirt. And low and behold - last night I noticed my arms were getting swollen and today? Itching. So, shower, calamine, shirt is in a plastic bag in a corner. Don't know if washing it will help it or not. Might be best just to throw it. Think what it might be, is the chemical I have to use to handle the house's bins to keep them smelling fresh might have blown back onto the shirt and well, I am chemically sensitive.
I'd much rather it be the shirt, than me. And once again, I'm grateful for the things I've learned this year; learned and remembered. So I no longer think when I feel badly, that it's all me, and there's nothing I can do and that I'm helpless and must just endure.
Still don't know if I can handle going to see a doctor (as I must do, to get my script so I can get my medicine). But that doesn't mean I haven't had any growth. Go me.
And this fact actually makes me sad. It feels like the conversations I used to follow and sometimes even be a part of, have moved to tumblr. But everytime I look at Tumblr (after attempting to set up an account, becoming thoroughly confused and hating it) I get this weird feeling in my stomach. All my feelings of that frustration come back and added to it are all these thoughts of 'Who owns your words on tumblr?' and 'How do you control your space'? Of course, given that I couldn't understand the... dashbord?, how would I fathom controlling the space.
I hesitate to stick my nose back in there though, even though I want to puddle around the conversation. Cause man, I loathe feeling as if, on my worse brain says, I wouldn't be able to even poke a stick at what is a medium of communication.
Then again, maybe the conversatons would stress me out, give me a headache, and it's a good thing I have one less medium to try and filter into my information streamload.
There's no way it could be causing me illls, it has to be that it was cheap chocolate, or 'American Chocolate'. Just as she's convinced that dairy isn't really affecting me, but it's a bacteria in the milk. At least she doesn't tell me to keep trying with dairy. But she's very much 'Don't give up on the chocolate' - and I can't tell if it's some part of her being sweet and asking if I've checked all options, or if it's part of her control issues wherein I can only eat what she says I can eat, when she says I can eat it.
Lack of consistency on what I was allowed to eat or not as a child, is part of why though my mother didn't like me eating bread and 'white flour' etc; occasionally she switched around what the bad foods were or 'treated' me and well. I had the thought yet again last night that consistency is very important to/for children.
And yes, while I ate wholewheat bread for most of my life, I'm aware that gluten doesn't care about the step in processing for the wheat.
Mom's suggests I try 'better' chocolate. Though one thing she said did make sense; preparation. Baker's/Baking Chocolate is essentially raw, it's not tempered, not heated, and that COULD in fact be affecting me. So I guess I'll buy some tempered dark chocolate on my own in the smallest possible quantity and test again. Cause I don't remember feeling the tension after the 'milk chocolate incident - just stomach gripes and itches, that I associate with dairy (and other intolerances) - while this situation may be the stimulant turning my muscles haywire.
On the other hand... when I think back to my incredulity last night, at the possibility the last 4 and a half years of intensified bodypain might be related to the increase of chocolate in my life... even if the initial reactions were from the stress of my living environment then - the cycle began - feel crap, have chocolate, feel crap, have chocolate.
And I guess... even though I wanted her to simply pay attention to how she feels 10-20 minutes after eating chocolate. I wasn't telling her not to eat it anymore. Just 'Whoa, this happened to me, and her, if it's a familial genetic thing...take some extra special attention, yeah?' But I guess it could also just be that chocolate isn't right for me and me alone. I'm the one dealing with body-pain disabilities. It might be too much for my system, because my system's already compromised.
And yes, this is how one conversation with my mother, one 10 minute convo can turn things upside down and inside out and donut knotted. And this was about chocolate! Complicated stuff like emotions, personal boundaries, psychological transgressions and aggressions - ha! You really don't want to see that ton of not pretty.
Went to bed 'round three, thought at the least I'd take a nap; if not, sleep straight through till morning. Woke up, it was 6 o'clock, thought, huh, I can sleep for another two hours. Woke up again it was 12am. Realized the prior 6 o'clock had been 6pm; the evening. Well now, there was nothing for it but to try and sleep till morning.But I'm up now. No more sleep just yet. Still, twelve hours to recover from yesterday and I feel much, much better.
My thoughts on anxiety tolerance/endurance have evolved into, well, the spoon theory. I only have but so many 'spoons' worth of anxiety and stress I can deal with and then -> exhaustion. Utter exhaustion which makes accomplishing anything else a near moot point; and it makes thinking horribly difficult. That's my level. That is what I can handle. And whatever therapeutic tools I gain, help me handle what spoons I do have in the most efficient way possible; help me realize that there are spoons and limited spoons at that (or knives or ladles etc). Maybe I'll find a medical doctor willing to pay attention to how trauma has affected my physical/physiological reactions to stress. Maybe. Until then, there's nothing for it than to do my best with cognitive behavioral therapy and the odd vitamins and supplements that help a body physically recover from or better handle the flood of hormones and chemicals that come with stress.
And I have done better, am doing better. Once upon a time some things would knock me out for a week or more. This stuff, I needed the rest of the day to mentally unwind, and 12 hours sleep and possibly the rest of today - though I might be capable of leaving the house today. We'll see. A judgement call is different than being physically too wasted to do a thing, however. The ability to make a judgement call, to ponder if I really am feeling better other than knowing I flat out couldn't do a thing; that's improvement.
So I hold on to that. And the tangible aspects of people being different and illness and factors and circumstances, making people even more different from one another. I've mostly moved past thinking of physical things meaning I'm broken beyond repair. They just are and I deal with them; whether my body can overcome and heal eventually (gain more spoons) or not doesn't change the fact of my current needs. If I could try and think that way about anxiety and stress and panic...? My mental health would be starting from somewhere more functional, I believe.
ETA: Notes inspired by Ephemera
"... fun loop where my blood sugar is low enough to make me feel like I'm thinking in slow motion and my digestive system is registering it's sadness at the lack of food by making me feel faintly nauseous thus I don't want to eat anything and can't decide what to do about it... doesn't take much in the way of conscious decision making "
That's what my 3 ring binder was going to be, a foody manual of me. I need to make that a physical reality. The Kindle's had 2 opportunities this year already to be a life saver; no power, and then no PSU for the comp. It will NOT be wasted money it didn't work for a foodie manual of me, and I need a 3 ring binder, some paper and a sticker or 2.
Knowing oneself is half the battle. I can't keep forgetting or getting distracted and muzzy headed about simple facts of me; food to blood sugar, to how/why I handle panic, stress and anxiety, to my relationship with exhaustion, etc....
Someone on my readings list asked about bags and got recc linked to Sammoon(dotcom). I too need a bag, I've realized that, well, bookbag straps tend to slip, and also put weight on my shoulders and neck which is likely more painful than I think; especially when slippage causes all the weight to be on one shoulder. And then I am quite likely carrying around things I don't need. So I've been trying to think about what my essentials just might be. But I've no idea of what size bag I would need; I just know, lots and lots of pockets; open slip pockets, zip pockets, pouches, etc. I have fiddly bits that I like tucked away, stuff I want safe, stuff I want within easy reach; etc.. etc...etc... You should have seen my fce (it certainly felt whoa and surprised) when I realized handbags can have a little backside zip pocket for stuff.
Things is, while I have figured out that I like the feel of a tote bag, provided I can also switch to a shoulder or messenger bag if needed (but with a tote bag the point should be if it starts to hurt and/or bulge too much, I have too much stuff in there) - I actually had to do reasearch to figure out 'open slip pockets' and I've no idea where one buys things. I mean, landlady (with whom I've also had this discussion, especially when I saw how much she can store in her bag) suggested street vendors. But you can't 'return' with a street vendor and how do I know the bag can take a licking? I need something that can handle dirt and scuffs and doesn't run colours; how do you test that on the street? And I have experience with cute little purse handbags that don't do anything but frustrate me because they're not big enough for my needs and I really hate the thought of transferring things around etc.
Also, I'd pay 25$ for a bookbag, maybe even 30$. But a hand bag? Somehow my brain isn't switching over. And I'm really not into owning things I have no need for and do not use; it adds clutter and confusion and dissatisfaction to my life.
So far all I know is that I like woven/straw/braided styles and those natural colours; they make me think less about cheap dye and peeling outter skins.
Meanwhile in other news, I'm pondering if I want to spend 60$ on a new pone, or just buy myself more airtime and deal with my current's phone very limited text storage; even though my sister seems to text easily and be comfortable with it and I want contact with her cause school's 'a thing'. It'd be an unplanned for expense.
Totally Random: Mayo = Lower Stomach Cramp. Doesn't matter how little. Extra = nausea. Find another way to deal with tuna. Suffering is unpleasant, self.
My focus isn't and hasn't been on 9/11. I keep seeing it mentioned and forgetting it. I'm busy gearing up for the first anniversary of SkywardProdigal's death. As I write this, I find myself thinking, there are too many other people dealing with private, personal loss in the same period; or reminded of such by the season change of fall. I'm glad I'm missing the media hype. It's not a national holiday, it's not a celebration. It should be a national day of mourning, except it's too entangled with hate, loss of aspects of citizenship and a whole lot of bullshit. To those of you feeling jangled by it all; take care of yourself. Keep yourself safe. Turn off the tv if you can, avoid the news and papers, get a special favourite book out the library, try to have the ingredients for your favourite meal to cook, or just treat yourself somehow.
Brown Rice: in myriad forms, does crust my eyes over the morning after, may induce itchies and possibly contributes to depression the morning after. Will I check with plain white rice? Decision currently unknown.
Movies: I did enjoy Attack The Block. I did not enjoy the volume. I spent much of the movie feeling accosted by the noise. It made listening through the accents difficult. Everytime I thought I was hearing people's words and started to relax, the music or atmospheric sound would swell, the speakers would get all 'happy' and I'd end up with my fingers over my ears, or trying to cover my ears with my shoulders (hunching down) and it was ugh. So I like independent theaters, I especially like the old fashioned large ones with curtains to swing back before the show begins, but I loathe the volume. I've noticed this before and somehow forget it. But it was so uncomfortable, now. I did wonder how everyone else wasn't feeling assaulted by sound waves.
I've become fairly jaded and bitter over the years when it comes to representation. And for one particular aspect of my identity, I prefer erasure because of how wrong and flamboyant and wrong they get it; it's not a plot point in a story, it's every day life. My everyday life. Several other people's everyday life.
But I had a therapy appointment on Tuesday where all I did was go 'There's a name for me!' Along with the realisation I'd been searching for one for YEARS and just feeling broken. So for the first time, I'm feeling the 'please sweet heavens, there's a word for that' and thinking a little differently, despite my bitterness, of having a reality broached in wider mediums.
It's one of the reasons I don't feel up to some broader discussions I've found. When people start debating the 'nature of oppression' or if oppression is worse than erasure, I think I might go off.
I'm sharply reminded of the circumstances, for some, in their later or even silver years, due to fear or hesitation or confusion or lack of freedom coming out as gay or queer. I find myself wondering at the age group in the discussions I've found. If there are people with an inkling of isolated communities, maybe some idea that there might be 'people like that' in 'big cities' somewhere. Maybe. And that's counting there were movies to hint at that. And with the knowledge such movies always implied such a 'lifestyle' was tragic and unhappy and horrible, but yeah, it/those people existed.
If they realize that there are people, older people, who in this day and age are still going "There's a word for that?!" Or 'That's what that word means? It's not something else?" Because who wants to identify with suicidal perverted depression wasted lives?
I keep wondering why they can't see the similarities or extrapolate to what it might be like to end up well past adolescence, even well past one's twenties when it seems most everyone else had their starting point and you with no clue you're not effed in the head.
Thinking of it that way, I think I can see why you got so excited at the thought of the word even being floated in a wider medium and possibly explored. So someone out there might go 'Wait, what? That's an option?!'
If definitions hadn't been floating around these last two to three years, I'd still be feeling like I was in a holding pattern to 'fix' myself. I realize my preferring erasure on that other part of me seems selfish given that, but it also falls under a possible 'to be fixed' label and the more outrageous representations could scare the stuffing out of someone managing a more or less regular life. There's no lesser evil there. But there might have been here, as you saw it.
This in reply to someone's post and the following conversation
wherein they'd thought, for a moment, that DC was actually going to be mature in it's handling of it's teenager characters; specifically Tim Drake; specifically to do with asexuality. And then it turned out to all be a hoax.
Aside from the fact that I am now somewhat intrigued at the thought of Tim as asexual and more intrigued at an actual storyline about Kon exploring what it might mean to be Kryptonian and how being alien might affect things and how that meshes with living in a human society etc (and then I start to wonder if Tim would feel more at ease around alien teenagers than human teenagers who have certain societally implanted expectations) ... it sounds like something I'd have to look for in fanfiction, or write myself.
And there's the part where my lingering thoughts on the clashes of the various sexual minority visibility, knowledge and tolerance movements just spilled out over everything. I'd been trying to keep it contained, cause I still feel gestational. But I really, really, am struck with some similarities I'm surprised I haven't yet seen mentioned.
Maybe it's because my former therapist; Dr. Trust (yes, that's a good name for her) directed a silver/golden years group for gay seniors; specifically those now coming out. And she, on occasion, related instances/circumstances as applied to me then in my own sessions; I feel odd kinship to them. I'm not in my golden years, but I'm not a teenager, physically. I'm not even in my twenties anymore, biologically speaking (the very act of writing that down is kind of chest squeezy, because emotionally, that's right where I am and it's necessary I be there, so there's mental tension). But I'm very much relating to the only information available about oneself being information that qualifies you as dysfunctional, and broken. At having no clue you could be well adjusted
and still not like the publicly shown mainstream.
Maybe I'm seeing things differently, because I can so easily see the harm that comes from being isolated in other areas, areas where people would think it wouldn't matter; like say race. Like perhaps being the only non-white family in an area and people thinking you act nothing like their conception of whichever non-white group stereotypes they assign to you
so 'they don't think of you as not white' and 'you're not really non white' and 'you're practically white'. That does its own damage, to self, to community, to family, that causes alienation, isolation, judgements.
Heck, 'You're not like other girls / you're not like other boys' causes all sorts of pain and confusion and image issues. Erasure and ignorance and lack of information is part of what props up rigid roles; part of what props up the kyriarchy. People can't control you if you don't fit the mold they're been trained/prepped to control - among other things.
I just keep thinking of scenarios, ( ... )
2009: Random: Loneliness
2010: Not Rushing To Either Sex or Climax
2011: Chewing On Thoughts
2011: Vulnerability, Sexuality, Sensuality: Or Things That Have Made Me Feel Like A Freak (aka
DemisexualDemiromantic Is A Word)
Note to self: REREAD YOUR JOURNAL. Apparently you try to tell yourself things and then totally forget them/ they sink beneath the waves of psyche. I can't believe I forgot 'psychic road rash'. How do you forget such a phrase?
Next thing I know, I'll find things from 2009 and further back. Really, how long have I been hopscotching towards a vocabulary?
ETA: 2009 link (w/ Elynross)
I've spent several days now, in a kind of daze (writing things out, on and off ) and I think I've come to some realizations. The first, is that vocabulary by itself is not what has me shocked, stunned, other words. Vocabulary is what has/had me questioning how I accepted the concept that something was wrong with me that needed to be fixed. How lack of vocabularly, led to me thinking something was physically wrong or psychologically wrong. And that the realization that I went to the I'm not like everyone else, therefore there is something wrong/broken with me place, that I bought into that, and accepted that, when in so many other areas of my life I wouldn't and haven't and thought I never would - that's where the upset, startled, dazed, shock comes from.
( There's more... )
Dear World (ahem, the few people who bother to click and come over here)
I am recovering from the panic and stress of not having had computer access for a week, during which with my routine disturbed I forgot to take some needed medication and am now well, dealing with that. I have caught up on 11th Doctor Who and Haven and well, I need comfort_distraction as food isn't much of an option for me. It's all self scratch in the kitchen these days with no take-away or delivery. And most of the rest, well, not good for me.
The thought of picking up a book unrecced makes me itchy nose and eyes close to tears. I stare with a kind of awe at people who continue to read authors or works with huge chunks of absences or phobic comments or any of that. Because I just - it makes me twitchy in the head.
So suggestions would be nice. This is me asking for help. Because too much thinking and sorting on my own is liable to stretch out my already stretched brain; which is needed for cooking for myself and cleaning the house so I don't drown in fur balls and/or dirty dishes.
This is the point wherein my thoughts have petered out. But media of some sort? Non hurty media? I may be able to hold for a while by rewatching The 12 Kingdoms/Junni Kokki. But Moribito WILL make me bust out the tears and overwhelming emotion is not the righteous right now.
Oh PS: I've been making w/ the phone call errands and stuff. All important and busy like, dealing w/ stuff. I'm guessing that's part of the brain porridge as well.
PPS: I may try the LOTR DVD Extra, but am wary, since I've had a recent 'spork' reaction to things tolkien. But I just had the mental image of Zvi reminding me to crack them out, so they're going on top the tv to remind me. Oh... geeze. I could totally watch them ON the computer, couldn't I. **ponders this**
All that calling about on Mon; UPS, Amazon - and being told I had to find a UPS box. And a UPS driver still showed up at my door last afternoon WITH the label, just as the return process said. So there's a whole lot of not knowing wtf is going on with clients or their own processes. But that's an extra load off my mind.
A vacuum also arrived, so there might be a chance for me to give the place a good going over before my mother semi-unexpectedly arrives. That way my sibs can at least use the bathroom.
Meanwhile I contemplate if I'm still allergic to eggs after all and haven't been noticing. It's seriously too easy for me to think certain pains are related to ladythings.
ETA/NTS: Is it psychosomatic I'm having itchy ears now? Or no, had it before too and just didn't think about it. Too damn easy to lapse into some things seeming 'normal' even when they aren't. More ETA: Recent skin itchy may NOT have been the thunderstorm at ALL. Effdoubledamn!
I realize some people have been responding to this tumblr post as if it were the asexual version of 'The Nice Guy'. That is not at all how I read and interpreted it. I saw it as an example of one of those times people think they're all speaking the same language, because they're using words they think each other recognizes, but in actuality the definitions are completely different, and thus the language is different and thus misunderstandings, hurt feelings and more occurs. This is the short version of what that tumblr post inspired in my brain: I have friends and I have people I care about very deeply in a myriad of ways, and most of the time only one of those myriad ways intersects with the way society tells me I should treat people who are not blood family.
( The Long Version )
So I write it down here quickly before I forget; I've been teasing out my anger over certain issues, just kind of poking it once I admitted it was there. And I've realized that yes, the cookie seeking was annoying me and the OH NO! NOT IN OUR COMMUNITY was some seriously annoying BS. I don't walk around thinking that ever, about any damn space. So, that was a measure of privilege that was just jabbing me. But, the anger had more to do with me (as I had originally suspected and put in my title and mentioned); and I've begun to suss out why.* -- *
I am angry at my past and what I went through and the hoops I was made to jump through, some of which I've spoken about here or to individual people who might possibly read this. I was remembering those hoops and the questioning and the disbelief. And my anger, which had never been at the survivor (other than my confusion at letting other people speak for them and people using the term victim // **rolls eyes at the people who betrayed my trust, in them**) but that the times and circumstances did not allow for me (and many many others, and STILL many others) to remotely get that support. Any support.
You shouldn't have to belong to a particular community and one feeling shocked 'that such things could happen to one of them' - in order for people to wake up to boundary crossing and moral impasses and ethical no'es. I know I mentioned my rage at it all. At what wasn't happening and what was happening. At the unfairness. And now I can consciously pinpoint it all down; That feeling of betrayal I'm currently feeling due to .... circumstances. It's very close to what I felt then. And when I pondered why I felt betrayal, boom. Memories.
It was a kind of jealousy. But it was also an abreaction*. Which would explain why my subconscious knew I had to write it out, in order to work through it. And this is my processing space; to say I'll write some things pflocked - they don't actually get written. Cause my brain will think it might as well as just be thoughts in my head.
In other related news; Yes. Betrayal. I am really really angry and sick and tired of people who befriend my littles and then walk away from them. Little kids don't need abandonment issues. They didn't do anything wrong. It's an issue between adults (mostly). But then again, that boils down to being treated like a singleton when I'm not.
To folks who've worried; I'm, ok I'm not doing ok. But I'm not dead or dying or gonna die, I don't think. I just feel like crap, utter, utter, horrible, sun luke warmed crap. But I know theoretically, that if I put one foot in front of the other, I can manage this. I'm just in shock and hurt, and the littles feel betrayed and I'm doing that mental wrestling about if it's worth it to let people in. And I'm exhausted and depressed.
*Abreactions don't seem to have good definitions in dictionary.com or Wikipedia. My former therapist explained it to me as an emotional flashback. And a flashback was precisely what I'd been experiencing; intrusive thoughts, wellspring of emotions I couldn't find the corners to deal with, and of course no idea what I was feeling was then
and not so much now
. Considering I didn't have therapy this week (Dr. Yoda's on vacation), the fact that I figured this out on my own feels big.
It also hammers home to me I (still) don't regret at all writing what I did and that the various leaps to judgement over a person's feelings
, just adds more trauma to someone already experiencing a trauma. Yes, someone else's violation affected me. And I wrote about it affecting me. I didn't 'make their violation all about me'
. It could NEVER BE ALL ABOUT ME. I could only ever react to and deal with and wrestle with my own stuff
. It's that whole thing where actions in a world have context and ripples and are never done in utter vacuum isolation. If that wasn't a factor there wouldn't have ever been
that reaction of 'Oh noes! Not in our community'.
Oh yeah. And the door is STILL over there. Uncheck the box as needed.
Would I, if I could, trade chest joint pain and/or shoulder joint pain for skin tingly itching as the way my body chooses to respond to a high barometer, coming thunderstorms and possible high humidity? No. I'd rather not have either. But apparently someone made a choice and nothing I did late last night would soothe it but constant rubbing (rubbing, not scratching, cause that would only cause harm). Now I ponder if I'll need a new scale. If this is the result of paying daily attention to and logging my pain - my brain got innovative.
Have an invite; if it's new and shiny, chances are ZviLikesTV will know about it, and I'll get an invite or poke or nudge or something. The thing is though? I'm still an introvert, even online. And right now I can't even read the info properly for Google+ because they mention circles and keep wanting me to add people and it all just seems like a crazy, jangly, extroverted, privacy abridged, constant online chat or something. And as socially repugnant to me as walking into a room of extroverted people who'll want to touch me, and talk in my face and breathe my air and tell me to smile.
No. Just. NO!
I like absolute control of my environment. I like choosing who I'll talk to and when (block or no block). I like the thought of having my virtual front door open - but I have ABSOLUTELY hand picked the neighbours. Or rather to be less Americana; some people live on my street, some people have an invite to my front courtyard, some people have an invite to my back courtyard and a few, very few people get to step foot inside the house.
Plus all the 'PUT YOUR LIFE ONLINE! TOGETHERNESS! SOCIAL NETWORK! WOOT!' Makes me want to punch someone in the mouth. With a boxing glove. Filled with lead. That's on fire! There's this immediate assumption that all such tools must be used by everyone, all the time, at the same time. Isn't the world already too barbed wire fluxing as it is with points of attention jabbing everywhere? I mean, I have to physically restrain myself from leaving the bloody bathroom to answer the phone - just because I can hear it ringing. As if I don't have the right to not want to talk to anyone, or having anyone else's life intrude into mine. OMG it's my phone! (Though, less with the landline and more w/ the cellphone! OMG it's the cell! It must be important! Let me run outside without stopping to wipe my be- WAIT A MINUTE. WTF Brain?!)
As it is, sometimes I can't even handle being online (open door/chat programs) at all. I'm feeling too fragile, or anti-social, or a need to hermit, or socially bruised and/or over-taxed.
So yeah, I'll be over here. In the quiet, slow lane, missing the days when email alone was the best thing ever - because LONG LETTERS and NO POSTAGE (or waiting in line for stamps).
Just ordered groceries. Panic. Dentist on Wed - got phonecall today informing me I'm not covered so will need to pay for it (though on sliding scale). So quick regiggering of budget for June into July. More panic. Headache that's 2 days old - not sure if I'm dehydrated, under mineralised, still feeling affects of peanuts or what. Irritation (might be panic). Had to order groceries earlier than planned since my stop-gap from last month (I'm allergic to). Thinking more on a decision for health coverage (paper-work panic). Therapy on Wed (haven't heard from therapist about what time my appt is), it also has paperwork. Extra panic. And that that whole thing from earlier today about motor-function (hazy feelings).
So I'm just going to curl up and likely sleep early today. Cause I feel like my head might explode.
I just called my father, full of sad face, because I accidentally deleted his birthday message to me. It was my way of reminding myself that I CAN just call him to hear his voice. I don't have to quite hold on to things like voice-mail to do so. And it was very helpful to hear him call me a silly goose and say he'll call me later and leave me a new message to save. I KNOW he's right there now, and I can call him, I have his number. And yet, I've been holding on to that message since March; hoarding it like a treasure. So much of me, sometimes, is still a little girl fighting to have a relationship with him despite my mother's disapproval - it surprises and hurts me a little to realize that.
Am currently exhuasted. Had a plan to ask my flist for tips on how to manage heat, but too much ugh to do that right now. I have pink sprakly Barbie child size glasses which fit my face and keep me from being blinded by sunlight. But too tired to say more. Resocvering from two trips downtown this week. Had to return some groceries, because I b ought a set of hamburgers that turned out to be nothing but beef lard pressed between wax paper in circle shape. Which sucks, because I could have used very easy cooking stuff since I am exhausted and very very sore.
Meanwhile my mother is driving my siblings to want to smack their heads into walls. I'm glad to be there for them, but it's not the most encouraging, y'know? Also? Seriously depressing to have reached this stage where they are describing the bits of hell I went through as a teen in the face of my mother's denial at the fact I was growing up.
Holding on to CJ Cherryh. Yay for interlibrary loan. Boo for no easy access ebooks. Yay for Cherryh having a donate page! Cause ahem, I might y'know, 'support the artist' ahem, ahrump, etc...
Right now once I'm caught up on Foreigner Series, will see if I can handle Alliance-Union universe. Especially since the univers premise is one I've dallied with myself in little short stories etc that have never seen the light of day.
Am currently craving chocolate like whoa. Am very hungry but so much damn ow. And I bought chicken to replace the beef fat, cause the burgers I did want were no longer on sale - more fool I (shouldn't have bought the cheaper). But maybe I'll be up to cooking a chicken leg, or baking it, or SOMETHING easy. Cause have I mentioned the pain? Serious ass pain. My body really can't handle two sets of me walking about downtown in this heat. Nuh uh. It complains. It complains most vigorously.
**facepalm** Started trying to find a pic of the glasses online. Remembred I have a camera and can take a pic later and upload it. Yeah, brain is SO not up to snuff right now, really. But am alive. And eye is almost completely healed, heaven's bless it.
Oh! And I found the book I thought the mean librarian had taken. It had fallen under a bookcase. Am rather glad I came home and looked despite being sure I knew what had happened to it.
|05:17AM | Wed, May 18th | 2011
|Rationality? What's That?
Today I will attempt to get some anti irritation eye drops. This is important because I think I'm switching al ot in upset over the blurry eye business and thus going from 'I obviously feel someting in my eye and it jut won't get out and is probably scratching the cornea thus not letting it heal - or maybe tha'ts mucus blurring me' to 'OMG how could I have eyesight on the 12th and then have one eye just GO BAD the day after!' and then being so upset I can't cry, which sucks, cause crying would probably help me clean my eye out.
Anyway, I hav been trying to wash it out using a small cup. Finally thought of the fact that it's 'saline solution' and when I was little it was salt water. Also tried some bicarbonate. Thought maybe it got a little better last night when I did that. But wasn't sure if it was useful thinking or not. And of course, well, I do a LOT of reading and not being able to sets me off into the land of EXTREME upset again.
And it turns out clinic os suck no longer has eye care as part of their mandate. Which means a referral. And, somewhere around here, I already have one, for that freaky dilate your eyes and get peeked at. It just arrived this month. No idea where I put it. And the thought if it freaks me out since I AM so very photosensitive.
So there's a lot going on. Plus side? I made it through the second inspection. Now just have to deal with my eye, near doctor's visits (and thus my health), various refferals (so health again) and somewhere inbetween all that - My MOTHER. Who is being very much MY MOTHER and wants to buy me a house again. Yes, I'm serious. Yes, I AM serious. She's bringing up 'I know you like your current place, but she did almost sell right out from under you and you need stability and'....
Can you even imagine going through this while freaking out about my eye? And dealing with an Amazon Merchant who gave me reboot response; send an email, get a response, next morning get a new email asking for details you JUST sent. Supposedly I'm being refunded. But they haven't as yet contacted me on HOW TO SEND THEM BACK THEIR STUFF. Which freaks me out some.
Blurry eye plus brand new kindle? Also much pouty.
So yeah, coping? What's that? And there's still I had made PLANS to do this year, that haven't happened yet, because I've been busy juggling.
So yeah, I don't mean to disappear and shut down and shut out. But my plate has BEEN full and every new little thing equals instant overload.
People who think about replacing their electronics every two years, are not people I should be reading about for background information for a decision making on protecting or warrantying my own stuff. Also, people who complain about being given a refurbished electronic item in place of their own broken one.
Personally, I just don't get that. You're getting a working item. It is being replaced. Your money was not wasted, gone, smashed beyond repair. But the complaint is, 'It is refurbished'???!!! I can understand this comment only if the owie/crap/break/wth happened within the first, maybe 90 days of purchase. But after that, I honestly don't get it. You had your chance for a brand new, enjoyed the brand new, then the brand new broke and hey, someone's saying you will not have to do completely without. I mean, if they actually could fix yours, yours would NOW be refurbished/remanufactured (I can't ever quite remember which is which). But yours would definitely not be 'new'. And isn't the point of sending out a fixed replacement, that it IS fixed?
I feel a huge cultural chasm here, and I don't even know where the head or tail of it is. It is a fricking Great Divide (ATLAB) and I am all 'Squeaky-Blink, Squeaky Blink'.
Mother forgave me for not calling her till 'round 8 for mother's day. I admitted I'd slept through most of the day. Cramps hit me, I curled up to sleep and was just out. My body's natural solution to 'Oh effing heck it HURTS me in my womb!'. Which, unfortunately doesn't work when it's 'OMEffing Heck it hurts me in my muscles, skin, joints - everywhere'. Then lying down just feels painful and burny.
Angry woman is scheduled for tomorrow. Cleaners are supposed to show up today. I'm counting this a hurdle to get past so i can breathe for a bit till the 17th. Am feeling panic in my lungs at the thought of having to visit my mother after that though. I want to see my siblings very, very, badly. But...Mom is being SO Mom. Like, really. Mom Cubed, these days. I don't know why I keep affirming that I'm going when I'm this panicked about it, actually. I think part of me feels the OMGWTF will go away once I'm there. Plus I've other current reasons to feel anxious, so Def Con 1 may go down a few levels with the other strains off my back.
Grocery shopping needs to happen. I am having further anxiety issues around that. Food issues. I keep asking my therapist for book referrals and stuff, haven't even thought till now to go look anything up in the library myself. Except, maybe, I used to scoff at them somewhat. In terms of not recognizing myself at all. And now... now I'm kind of 'Oh Willow, you control freak....' and tisking. I am also aware that my awareness on this issue is likely fractured.
Speaking of food issues....my siblings. Oh eff damn, my siblings. My sister has always been a 'I can't be fat! I can't be fat!' with lots of Mom praise on that front. So it's been little talks here and there about her focusing on staying healthy. But now my mom's getting needle spikes into my brother's brain and I'm just.... It's such a control issues thing, trying to hold on to what little we have. But I'm the one further down the line who sees the repercussions it can have.
Ok, gonna stop now before I depress myself and start comparing what I can manage to what I see others accomplishing. Cause wow, emotions and brain stuff are kicking my ass.
|08:47AM | Sat, May 7th | 2011
Reposted comment: from Here.
I don't think anything you've posted, about Obama, Guantanamo Bay, Revolutions in West Asia and Northern Africa, about Abortion Polices in the USA, about the US's multiple War Fronts, about the hold up on the repeal of DADT and the usual race shenanigans, has hurt me as much as this 'Making Public Libraries Privately Run Business For Profit' thing.
Guess it says something about me. Meanwhile, I need to recover from this steam-roller kick to my chest.
Quote from article referenced at linked notice:
"LSSI’s Chief Executive Frank A. Pezzanite is straightforward about how he views public libraries. “Somehow they have been put in the category of a sacred organization,” he says. To him, they are just a business.
To me libraries are
sacred spaces. Walking in to one gives me the same sense of presence as I suppose could be had walking into a Church or Mosque or Synagogue. For me, however, I think I feel more of a presence .I feel hallowed and precious and small but protected. There is all this information and knowledge and learning, there for the taking, the asking, the questioning. And it's free. It's encouraged.
Here in these halls lie debate and a path to one's own philosophies.
Sometimes I wonder about my relationship with G-d, about my dislike of people and how that conflicts with finding any sense of spiritual community; I struggle with memories of a lack of understanding in some places with how much effort it took for me to get to those community gatherings etc. I feel like there are gatekeepers. Judgements. I never
feel that way in a library. I never feel 'unloved' or 'unworthy'. I am never not good enough in a library.
I have fought phobias and anger and even fear at particular library employees, or neighbourhoods, in order to walk back in and reclaim the sense of space that is a library (or that library) - in ways I may not fight for other things.
The times I walk into a library and just pick up my books and leave, I feel like I'm missing out, because I didn't take any time to reflect and browse.
I just... yeah. No more words.
Like, I knew theoretically that Mother's Day was soonish - cause it was related to whether or not I buy a kindle and get the offered gift certificate. But oh crap, I haven't been paying attention to it as MOTHER'S DAY. I haven't mentally prepared for it - for dealing with my mother and MOTHER's DAY.
And it's even worse because of the whole 'when are you coming to visit' and last time we spoke, I told her I was trying for sometime in May. And I thought I'd just have to deal with her anger it didn't happen before my brothe's big test. But now? MOTHER'S DAY. And my brain isn't even fully recovered from therapy on Thursday that yes, dealt with some mother issues; a tangled octopus of emotional expectations and mental arguments that tied me still and frozen in knots to the point I wanted to set my hair on fire.
And oh fuck. MOTHER'S DAY.
One day is not enough to figure out if I'm calling, not calling, wishing well, what. Oh shit. I suppose at this point in my life and my siblings' lives it's a grease the wheel function for them. But oh shit. I am not mentally prepared for the mind games and the... Oh shit!
Still up cause pain's a bitch an a half.
1): Game of Thrones: Tv Series. My reaction. "Wow, that's a lot of half naked brown women publicly fornicated and acting all animalistic with some particular dance moves and the big, tall brown buck doesn't speak the language and there is his very frightened precious white woman. Alrighty then" Not that I hadn't attempted to read the book several years ago and didn't already know this. But to see as well. I have mentioned before yes, that I had trouble getting through the book? I may write more about why some other time soon (it may well be a general fantasy thing - hint: the trials of resource distribution of angsty white people, just might bore me.).
2) Landlady visit was less stressful than I expected, even while talking myself into remembering it's mostly less stressful than I imagine. But still recovering and full of pain and head space dealing.
3) Cleaners show up this week. Angry nasty lady next week. I think I might be something of a mess.
4) I think I really really loathed easter brisket/corned beef. It's either too salty, or I get the cheap ones that I can afford which are really nothing but fat. Note to self: don't waste the money.
Ok, it is at least 50% the pillow's fault. Have discovered that crappy pillow support leads directly to the kind of pain I often get up with in the morning; headache, shoulder aches, jaw aches, back spasms, dizziness. This of course is further exasperated on days with rain/high barometer readings. Last night I tried a thing with what I have available to attempt to give myself more support and I woke up in a better place!
So now the hunt is on, as far as I am concerned, to find the best possible sleeping support, angle and device so I wake up with less pain. I woke up today without a headache - it was wonderful.
Part of me is a boggle I hadn't figured out before that pillow stuff could be contributing. But that's not true. I know I have pillow-pain issues. I just didn't realize HOW much they caused and how much attention I should put into fixing them. I look forward to the possibility of it NOT being a fluke, when I wake up feeling even more refreshed. Cause it's been frustrating to finally be getting solid sleep, yet my body waking up feeling so crappy; my mind clear enough to know I can't focus on anything cause ow. It's so easy to forget too, how much pain exhausts.
I have spent nearly every moment since I woke up today thinking about food. Food and pain. Woke up in agony, had no clue how I was going to cook for myself. Spent the day bargaining against making something simple since I WOULD have to cook - to make something more than a 'stick it in your mouth'.
So I ended up making corned beef and veggie potato salad. And then immediately started feeling sick and disgusted with food. Made myself eat it anyway because I hadn't eaten anything but popcorn all day.
Am now kind of conflicted/near tears/frustrated. But at least I'm journaling about it.
PS: iJay wouldn't post. Also? Seem completely turned off meat atm. No effing idea.
|04:22AM | Sun, April 10th | 2011
Struggled all day with a headache; piercing spine pain thing. Am hoping it is weather related. Just realized I havent' checked some of the web comics I read in AGES. Feel out of it cause I can't handle going chat online right now. Hoping later today/tomorrow is better.
Made Fish stew, so have that. And am going to try and deal with food thoughts etc, slowly. Got very close to disordered food thoughts again.
Called my mother to get a sense of how much almond flour or almonds cost and how it tastes in cooking - I know she uses it. She was all curious and nosey and poking. And then went off on how I needed to get a refund for something bought over a YEAR ago - something I asked her if she thought was needed and even offered half the payment for (and as far as I'm concerned paid half of since it all came out of my bank account for purchase). And she's now claiming she's been telling me for months to try and get this refund. And...
I have promises to keep. Interactions with my mother make it so. damn. hard.
Meanwhile, the battle to actually buy some things continues - as if my very wanting of a thing, is th reason not to get it, proof it isn't a desperate need.