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one of these ephemeral moments where i just got to express myself how i needed to, without trying to make a reasonable narrative in the moment.
i mean...
I don't have any conflicts or beefs right now aside from the ongoing /get that shithead out the white house/ that's all the time in my brain... life is holding steady. Jeff and I are pretty okay at the moment, with no real cracky or messy stuff on the horizon.
i did fine when he did an overnight with our Jenn, actually i really enjoyed having the bed and the house to myself for a bit... I stop myself from vocalizing when he's around, but when it's just me like it's been for about 5 years, i totally talk to myself all through the day. Discovered that i miss it some.
(that may be part of why i enjoyed the random download today with L.)
it was like an unspooling. or an untangling?
brain feels... tidier. smoother.
we covered a lot of ground, touched on a lot of issues for just a moment, long enough to acknowledge (past struggles to hold boundaries, to challenge authority figures, to stand up for myself) and metaphors (how The Patriarchy helped dislocate my ankle and my knee in two separate incidents, comment if you actually wanna know what i think about that)...
conclusion 1: I am more MYSELF when i get a chance to ramble and talk and allow the words to come out verbally, even more so than I am myself after taking time to write like /this/ on a screen. I spend a lot of time/effort holding my interior monologue on the interior.
conclusion 2: asking for someone's ear isn't a bad thing. asking for help is good, and a gift to the person who has the chance to help. Gods know *I* like to help!
conclusion 3: perhaps, possibly, our life is smooth enough (healthy enough? boring enough?) to discontinue sessions for the time being. Gonna think on that for a little bit.
i mean...
I don't have any conflicts or beefs right now aside from the ongoing /get that shithead out the white house/ that's all the time in my brain... life is holding steady. Jeff and I are pretty okay at the moment, with no real cracky or messy stuff on the horizon.
i did fine when he did an overnight with our Jenn, actually i really enjoyed having the bed and the house to myself for a bit... I stop myself from vocalizing when he's around, but when it's just me like it's been for about 5 years, i totally talk to myself all through the day. Discovered that i miss it some.
(that may be part of why i enjoyed the random download today with L.)
it was like an unspooling. or an untangling?
brain feels... tidier. smoother.
we covered a lot of ground, touched on a lot of issues for just a moment, long enough to acknowledge (past struggles to hold boundaries, to challenge authority figures, to stand up for myself) and metaphors (how The Patriarchy helped dislocate my ankle and my knee in two separate incidents, comment if you actually wanna know what i think about that)...
conclusion 1: I am more MYSELF when i get a chance to ramble and talk and allow the words to come out verbally, even more so than I am myself after taking time to write like /this/ on a screen. I spend a lot of time/effort holding my interior monologue on the interior.
conclusion 2: asking for someone's ear isn't a bad thing. asking for help is good, and a gift to the person who has the chance to help. Gods know *I* like to help!
conclusion 3: perhaps, possibly, our life is smooth enough (healthy enough? boring enough?) to discontinue sessions for the time being. Gonna think on that for a little bit.
Tags:
I got to have sex this morning! And that was fun!
What is less fun is realizing that I still have landmines about sex about being female, how about my role in the world and my safety, about what I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to put up with.
When I was a kid mom used to say, as she was putting my hair up in hot rollers, we must suffer to be beautiful. I'm a hot rollers had pokey bits that would dig into your scalp. And they had hot metal that would sometimes burn your ear. And the meta message that I took away was you should just suffer and put up with it.
And the world taught me, that being a woman meant suffering, even being a girl meant suffering. The Christian overculture always talks about the sin of Eve, and there's that one passage in the Bible about how because Eve tempted Adam she was just meant to have pain and suffering having a baby would be painful etc. And honestly? That message carries over into medical practice, into prescription practice. Women's Period and pelvic pain is gaslighted, denied, downplayed.
And there are so many other meta messages about women and pain. The number of stories about your first time having sex is painful, like I really expected that. And today 31 years after The first time I had penis in vagina sex, I found myself feeling pain, feeling chafed and considering just enduring it. I heard my brain go Oh just suck it up, you can get through this, and a split second later I made us pause and ask for some lube. And it got a little better and easier, because I spoke up for myself and because my partner is not like the dumb boys that I had sex with in my twenties. And he's not selfish. But the fact that I seriously considered continuing on though I was in pain. Make me think about other meta messages that are still in my brain.
When the question of your financial security, and your physical security, can be contingent on your ability to please your mate. And this is happening everyday all across the world, women finding a way to please their mate, in other ways too but also sexually, out of fear that they will be cast aside, seen as disposable, will be replaced by someone who's more compliant, younger or more pleasing in some other way.
And I'm realizing today that a big part of where my fear came from when Jeff and I were having sexual incompatibilities, was from that particular meme. He will cast me aside. He will find somebody younger, with whom he's more sexually compatible,... That was a particularly strong fear for a while after I was unable to conceive. I wasn't sure how strong his desire to have a kid was, and my s***** brain did actually think at some point, well I risked my life to do this, that must count for something.
It just feels like he's been having to earn my trust over and over and over again, because the world hates women? And I've internalized a lot about that, not like you could avoid it! But yeah I have put up with a lot over the decades, I have had abusive and neglectful partners, I've had a gas lighting partner, I put up with really s***** treatment from poly partners other partner. And I'm just I'm stunned by how the world is full of all of us walking wounded and how many of us are still trying to dig our way through this complete swamp filled with b*******, and God I wish the speech to text would go ahead and let me cuss. Long slow exhale, going to go get some lunch, and just throw this up here, so that I can share it in therapy today.
What is less fun is realizing that I still have landmines about sex about being female, how about my role in the world and my safety, about what I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to put up with.
When I was a kid mom used to say, as she was putting my hair up in hot rollers, we must suffer to be beautiful. I'm a hot rollers had pokey bits that would dig into your scalp. And they had hot metal that would sometimes burn your ear. And the meta message that I took away was you should just suffer and put up with it.
And the world taught me, that being a woman meant suffering, even being a girl meant suffering. The Christian overculture always talks about the sin of Eve, and there's that one passage in the Bible about how because Eve tempted Adam she was just meant to have pain and suffering having a baby would be painful etc. And honestly? That message carries over into medical practice, into prescription practice. Women's Period and pelvic pain is gaslighted, denied, downplayed.
And there are so many other meta messages about women and pain. The number of stories about your first time having sex is painful, like I really expected that. And today 31 years after The first time I had penis in vagina sex, I found myself feeling pain, feeling chafed and considering just enduring it. I heard my brain go Oh just suck it up, you can get through this, and a split second later I made us pause and ask for some lube. And it got a little better and easier, because I spoke up for myself and because my partner is not like the dumb boys that I had sex with in my twenties. And he's not selfish. But the fact that I seriously considered continuing on though I was in pain. Make me think about other meta messages that are still in my brain.
When the question of your financial security, and your physical security, can be contingent on your ability to please your mate. And this is happening everyday all across the world, women finding a way to please their mate, in other ways too but also sexually, out of fear that they will be cast aside, seen as disposable, will be replaced by someone who's more compliant, younger or more pleasing in some other way.
And I'm realizing today that a big part of where my fear came from when Jeff and I were having sexual incompatibilities, was from that particular meme. He will cast me aside. He will find somebody younger, with whom he's more sexually compatible,... That was a particularly strong fear for a while after I was unable to conceive. I wasn't sure how strong his desire to have a kid was, and my s***** brain did actually think at some point, well I risked my life to do this, that must count for something.
It just feels like he's been having to earn my trust over and over and over again, because the world hates women? And I've internalized a lot about that, not like you could avoid it! But yeah I have put up with a lot over the decades, I have had abusive and neglectful partners, I've had a gas lighting partner, I put up with really s***** treatment from poly partners other partner. And I'm just I'm stunned by how the world is full of all of us walking wounded and how many of us are still trying to dig our way through this complete swamp filled with b*******, and God I wish the speech to text would go ahead and let me cuss. Long slow exhale, going to go get some lunch, and just throw this up here, so that I can share it in therapy today.
Tags:
ten things make a post, so:
* my cyst continues to drain and shrink slowly. It's gotten softer in the last few days, the hard edges that were painful to massage aren't sharp under my touch anymore. the back of the cyst pad (idk what the name of it, the part closest to my sternum and farthest from the skin) is also softening, i can actually flex it now instead of it being rigid.
High hopes for the body actually processing the whole thing completely, after enough time and care. the hydrocolloid bandaids are ah.maze.zing. they don't tear up my skin when i take them off, the whole thing is sticky and yet it doesnt tear at the wound at all. I was super duper NOT into the idea of surgical removal, so this is progressing nicely and i hope my body will cannibalize, metabolize, and heal all of it.
* been participating in Kinktober. Doing pretty good at it so far. have done scenes for temperature play, sensory deprivation (blindfolds), cockwarming, striptease, oh, and a bad bondage joke. =D yesterday's chapter (doorframe bondage) i'm working on today, and tonight i'll do today's chapter (will probably be predicament bondage uh apparently i have a favorite).
* i didn't do yesterday's chapter because (yay!) we were being Social and also i left the house (shock) to go to CVS and pick up a couple of things. I feel like I'm prepared to go out among people in limited ways. Maybe I'll be brave enough to go to the grocery store with Jeff, especially if I can get comfortable enough to use the respirator mask. Them's the big guns.
* current home improvement projects include: a large tyvek shade sail in the back yard (Jeff's baby) and black stretch velvet covers for several reflective surfaces. Tribble-cat is still hissing at reflective surfaces, but we've covered most of them already, just the velvet looks better despite being only like $6.50/yd.
*that reminds me, it's time for me to give her the dose of kitty prozac. brb
...and ten minutes later, done. because of course she decides to get up and drink water when she was peacefully napping next to me before i remembered she needed her meds. the ear-smear administration is working *fairly well* but i do believe she's getting tired of it.
* oh, Jeff is dating someone new, she's lovely and I do like her and I'm being surprised to not-feel jealous? partly because he's just so darn happy. and that delights me. and i have my own shit going on, that's pretty fun and engrossing. so. More about that eventually, I'm sure. things are fun and no drama, she likes me and i like her, Jenn likes her and she likes Jenn, so, super promising. And Jeff is GOOFY with NRE, it's adorable.
* my new meta also gives really good hugs and verbal praise and likes to DANCE which is so exciting to me! someone to dance in real space with again!
* oh oh oh i got to dance with Claire again yesterday, on Zoom which is not as nice as real life but it's hella better than nothing, and my body hurts a lot less than it was doing over the weekend. I got to that point over the weekend of the whole musculoskeletal tension ratcheting up and up and I couldn't figure out what if any stretch or exercise would work, and so I did wind up taking one of the leftover Flexiril from the Bells Palsy episode, what, two years ago now? and it let me sleep and unspool like 80% of the tension so the Monday workout was good, then Tuesday morning I got to dance (which freeform movement is the absolute BEST for my tension and pain), then today, the wednesday workout was great.
* and now I'm writing on the couch, kitty beside me, while jeff practices soldering electronics out in the garage.
* and the last in good news, our fig tree and our citrus bushes are producing in a ridiculous fashion, and that is one more thing that makes me happy.
* my cyst continues to drain and shrink slowly. It's gotten softer in the last few days, the hard edges that were painful to massage aren't sharp under my touch anymore. the back of the cyst pad (idk what the name of it, the part closest to my sternum and farthest from the skin) is also softening, i can actually flex it now instead of it being rigid.
High hopes for the body actually processing the whole thing completely, after enough time and care. the hydrocolloid bandaids are ah.maze.zing. they don't tear up my skin when i take them off, the whole thing is sticky and yet it doesnt tear at the wound at all. I was super duper NOT into the idea of surgical removal, so this is progressing nicely and i hope my body will cannibalize, metabolize, and heal all of it.
* been participating in Kinktober. Doing pretty good at it so far. have done scenes for temperature play, sensory deprivation (blindfolds), cockwarming, striptease, oh, and a bad bondage joke. =D yesterday's chapter (doorframe bondage) i'm working on today, and tonight i'll do today's chapter (will probably be predicament bondage uh apparently i have a favorite).
* i didn't do yesterday's chapter because (yay!) we were being Social and also i left the house (shock) to go to CVS and pick up a couple of things. I feel like I'm prepared to go out among people in limited ways. Maybe I'll be brave enough to go to the grocery store with Jeff, especially if I can get comfortable enough to use the respirator mask. Them's the big guns.
* current home improvement projects include: a large tyvek shade sail in the back yard (Jeff's baby) and black stretch velvet covers for several reflective surfaces. Tribble-cat is still hissing at reflective surfaces, but we've covered most of them already, just the velvet looks better despite being only like $6.50/yd.
*that reminds me, it's time for me to give her the dose of kitty prozac. brb
...and ten minutes later, done. because of course she decides to get up and drink water when she was peacefully napping next to me before i remembered she needed her meds. the ear-smear administration is working *fairly well* but i do believe she's getting tired of it.
* oh, Jeff is dating someone new, she's lovely and I do like her and I'm being surprised to not-feel jealous? partly because he's just so darn happy. and that delights me. and i have my own shit going on, that's pretty fun and engrossing. so. More about that eventually, I'm sure. things are fun and no drama, she likes me and i like her, Jenn likes her and she likes Jenn, so, super promising. And Jeff is GOOFY with NRE, it's adorable.
* my new meta also gives really good hugs and verbal praise and likes to DANCE which is so exciting to me! someone to dance in real space with again!
* oh oh oh i got to dance with Claire again yesterday, on Zoom which is not as nice as real life but it's hella better than nothing, and my body hurts a lot less than it was doing over the weekend. I got to that point over the weekend of the whole musculoskeletal tension ratcheting up and up and I couldn't figure out what if any stretch or exercise would work, and so I did wind up taking one of the leftover Flexiril from the Bells Palsy episode, what, two years ago now? and it let me sleep and unspool like 80% of the tension so the Monday workout was good, then Tuesday morning I got to dance (which freeform movement is the absolute BEST for my tension and pain), then today, the wednesday workout was great.
* and now I'm writing on the couch, kitty beside me, while jeff practices soldering electronics out in the garage.
* and the last in good news, our fig tree and our citrus bushes are producing in a ridiculous fashion, and that is one more thing that makes me happy.
Tags:
I probably have another post with this title. Important stuff, I have to learn over. And over and over.
Sex and shame are inextricably linked in this incredibly puritanical culture, especially for AFAB people.
You learn it young via jokes on the elementary school playground, books you're not supposed to read, shows your parents watch that you're not supposed to understand. Comics.
And now the wonders of the internet, she said sarcastically, offering new ways to shame women and other folks for daring to have desire, to want pleasure, to demand respect and honesty and trust and respect AND sex. And Good Sex.
How dare we.
It's an old tangle, and talking about something with such pernicious roots, both personally and socially, means it's really fuckin' difficult to talk about, even in a good supportive loving trustworthy relationship, even after close to 3 decades of therapy, processing, reflection.
So today I'm saying, I CLAIM THAT SHIT.
I CLAIM DESIRE. I CLAIM PLEASURE. I CLAIM SELF SOVEREIGNTY.
Finally I'm dropping whatever shame remains from this and past relationships' sexual mismatches and dysfunction. I'm dropping my shame about self-pleasure while partnered. I'm composting my shame and fear about my partner's desire and turn ons being opaque to me, and I'll have the fun I want and need to have.
when I invite him (or others) to join me, I won't have the resentment that comes up when my desire is stale and desperate.
I want to be fresh and flexible and agile. More spontaneous, more self nourishing.
That old lesson about filling your own cup first? Yeahhhhhhh I have not been good at doing that in this realm, and it's poisoned a lot of my relationships, left me with a chronic feeling of lack and inadequacy.
I am enough. I'm gonna be good to myself and then let that spill over.
*+*+*+*+*
Relatedly, I'm writing daily this month for Kinktober (which is now showing up in autosuggestion, and that tickles me.) Part of my goal to keep the writing going is to let myself feel my own sexual, sensual, sweet, loving, tender, and playful imagination.
I can't remember if I've linked my archive of our own page back on my profile, but if you like kinky shit search for this username on AO3, riffle through my fic, my tags and bookmarks, and have fun! There's gonna be a TON of new content on the internet this month for folks who love a kinky premise.
😛➰😁✒️🥰👌😯
Sex and shame are inextricably linked in this incredibly puritanical culture, especially for AFAB people.
You learn it young via jokes on the elementary school playground, books you're not supposed to read, shows your parents watch that you're not supposed to understand. Comics.
And now the wonders of the internet, she said sarcastically, offering new ways to shame women and other folks for daring to have desire, to want pleasure, to demand respect and honesty and trust and respect AND sex. And Good Sex.
How dare we.
It's an old tangle, and talking about something with such pernicious roots, both personally and socially, means it's really fuckin' difficult to talk about, even in a good supportive loving trustworthy relationship, even after close to 3 decades of therapy, processing, reflection.
So today I'm saying, I CLAIM THAT SHIT.
I CLAIM DESIRE. I CLAIM PLEASURE. I CLAIM SELF SOVEREIGNTY.
Finally I'm dropping whatever shame remains from this and past relationships' sexual mismatches and dysfunction. I'm dropping my shame about self-pleasure while partnered. I'm composting my shame and fear about my partner's desire and turn ons being opaque to me, and I'll have the fun I want and need to have.
when I invite him (or others) to join me, I won't have the resentment that comes up when my desire is stale and desperate.
I want to be fresh and flexible and agile. More spontaneous, more self nourishing.
That old lesson about filling your own cup first? Yeahhhhhhh I have not been good at doing that in this realm, and it's poisoned a lot of my relationships, left me with a chronic feeling of lack and inadequacy.
I am enough. I'm gonna be good to myself and then let that spill over.
*+*+*+*+*
Relatedly, I'm writing daily this month for Kinktober (which is now showing up in autosuggestion, and that tickles me.) Part of my goal to keep the writing going is to let myself feel my own sexual, sensual, sweet, loving, tender, and playful imagination.
I can't remember if I've linked my archive of our own page back on my profile, but if you like kinky shit search for this username on AO3, riffle through my fic, my tags and bookmarks, and have fun! There's gonna be a TON of new content on the internet this month for folks who love a kinky premise.
😛➰😁✒️🥰👌😯
Tags:
I wish that I had had access to the term executive functioning, or executive dysfunction, years ago. Having the knowledge that this is a thing, makes a big difference in how harshly I will judge myself for failing to do things that I feel like I should be doing.
I have trouble writing, at least fiction. I'm writing short pieces for Tumblr right now, or occasional answers to questions on quora. I have multiple works in progress on AO3, and I can feel the story sitting in that part of my brain, and I can't find a way to let it out yet. And it's frustrating as hell.
This executive dysfunction is largely, I guess, emotionally based, sometimes physical distress is part of it but largely when I'm in emotional distress is when I have the most difficulty. And today, I'm only writing this post because I am out of the house, house sitting/cat sitting for my friend girl purple. And while I'm here, I can use speech to text.
For writing, it hits me in different places to write by hand, to write at a keyboard, to write on the phone, or to dictate. At this immediate moment I'm making an end run around the writing dysfunction by speaking instead. I've been thinking there must be other ways to get around the fact that writing is hard right now I mean, now more than usual. With the pandemic and shelter in place, with not being able to have access to my usual support network, or my activities that feed me, like dance, like going to an open floor dance or a five rhythms dance, I can't go visit my friends I can't ask somebody to come over and sit with me while I accomplish things. I think maybe I need to pet the cats, and maybe I need to sit down and let myself feel my feelings.
I think the next thing that I will do for myself is I will write down onto paper and put it up somewhere I can see it, the list I just made of the different ways that I could write and perhaps I will also pull out the couple of self-help books that I've used in the past to wake up the skills that I have had in the past to Get Shit Done.
Time to go eat a food and try to get shit done.
I have trouble writing, at least fiction. I'm writing short pieces for Tumblr right now, or occasional answers to questions on quora. I have multiple works in progress on AO3, and I can feel the story sitting in that part of my brain, and I can't find a way to let it out yet. And it's frustrating as hell.
This executive dysfunction is largely, I guess, emotionally based, sometimes physical distress is part of it but largely when I'm in emotional distress is when I have the most difficulty. And today, I'm only writing this post because I am out of the house, house sitting/cat sitting for my friend girl purple. And while I'm here, I can use speech to text.
For writing, it hits me in different places to write by hand, to write at a keyboard, to write on the phone, or to dictate. At this immediate moment I'm making an end run around the writing dysfunction by speaking instead. I've been thinking there must be other ways to get around the fact that writing is hard right now I mean, now more than usual. With the pandemic and shelter in place, with not being able to have access to my usual support network, or my activities that feed me, like dance, like going to an open floor dance or a five rhythms dance, I can't go visit my friends I can't ask somebody to come over and sit with me while I accomplish things. I think maybe I need to pet the cats, and maybe I need to sit down and let myself feel my feelings.
I think the next thing that I will do for myself is I will write down onto paper and put it up somewhere I can see it, the list I just made of the different ways that I could write and perhaps I will also pull out the couple of self-help books that I've used in the past to wake up the skills that I have had in the past to Get Shit Done.
Time to go eat a food and try to get shit done.
Tags:
saw a very #relatable post on Tumblr (when do i not find relatable posts on Tumblr)
#i love tumblr
it said something like, "housebound, communicating by writing, not allowed to touch anyone not of your household. I've never related to Jane Austen's novels more."
so. that's a thing.
had my second Zoom meeting with my trainer, Etty. plagued with technical difficulties because my phone is four years old and the battery crashes like, all the time. Last time we started with the laptop, and shifted to the phone mid session because i hadn't charged up the laptop. LOL
Today the phone just straight up died after a half an hour video call. 75% charged, my right butt cheek. Ran inside, got a battery pack (thank gods for that one burning man art project we did, we have like 5 battery packs) and we finished the session okay.
my leg had started to hurt kind of a lot. no dancing, no workouts, minimal walking, not a lot of stretching. full body tension, you know what i mean if you have old injuries that still give you grief. and now instead my muscles are SORE but not tense in the same way.
i call it "fun-pain". when you cuss going up and down stairs because your inner hamstring is twanging from yesterday's workout. that's fun-pain.
okay now the cat has pinned my arm to the kitchen table while i type on the laptop, might as well make this a long post.
monday mar 16: Notified of Shelter-In-Place (SHIP). washed & folded a bunch of my damn laundry. we were already more or less Hobbiting in place (HIP) so i didn't think i'd mind too much. my thoughts about that have somewhat changed.
Tuesday mar 17: day 1 mandatory SHIP. walked outside w jeff. Met neighbor Jessica, talked about skillsharing and foodsharing, turns out she runs an email list for the local community. picked up dry cleaning (keepign 6' distance) and washed the hell out of our hands.
Video conference with therapist, our first couples counseling. went well, i think.
watched *your name* which totally fuckin deserved the awards it won.
Wednesday mar 18: finished writing "Would you...?" and posted to tumblr.
* did a color sketch of the red tulips on the verge of losing all their petals. Looks good on the black paper, and I think i did a decent job of getting the proportions right. posted photos to my art instagram, which you can see if we're FB friends.
* Started watching Legend of Korra and DAMN THE HAPPY PLACE FOR ME! woo!
Thursday mar 19. Jeff had discovered that the garbage disposal was leaking under the sink cabinet, so he took it out, found it's all rusted and pitted and the motor was... well. not healthy. he ordered a new one (five+/- days for delivery) and we set ourselves up to wash our dishes in the laundry sink. thank fuck we had the laundry sink, but ughhhhhhhhhhh handwashing all the dishes and pots and pans.
* Cut out 25 or so of two kinds of fabric to make medical masks from.
* Finished reading _REd, White, and Royal Blue_ which is SO GOOD that I'll try and put a link in the comments. everyone who like fanfiction and queer fiction will probably love this little AU. it made me so happy, i gasped more than once, laughed out loud, and literally felt my heart warm.
Friday mar 20. slept the hell in, got lost in Tumblr, and didnt get my breakfast till 1153.
* i insisted on us stripping and remaking the bed with fresh sheets because usually we would have had a wednesday visit from the cleaning folks, so we had to do it ourselves. Jeff was helpful when i explained.
* (looking back from the friday following this day, we have GOT to sweep and mop the floors because argh the dust is getting to me pretty good.)
* Jeff repaired the leak in the hot tub that has been costing us $ and gallons. I helped a little by lying on my face on the deck with a mirror so i could see the gasket that was leaking and was able to confirm that it was no longer leaking. perhaps that's not a little thing, can u imaging the PITA of being in the hot tub with tools, then having to climb out and lay down to try and see if you did it right? it's the context switch that's expensive, cognitively. I knew this, blogged about it in my election day post, but confirmation.
Digression: some hospital workers are working the long ass days like I worked on election day, only EVERY DAY. Try to find something you can do to support your hospital workers, your friends and family who are isolated, or people who are hungry.
Saturday mar 21: Jeff and i had sex, yay! it was nice.
* went for a walk around the neighborhood, met Carlos and Yvette on the corner, the house with the short chainlink fence and kids toys in the yard, across from the house with the lemon trees.
* had the idea of offering services to parents i know with short art lessons or reading lessons. should drop a note in carlos and yvette's mailbox to that effect, with my phone number for texting.
* got the idea to take a long drive. after some negotiation with Jeff we decided on santa cruz so we could see the ocean, and i said if we're there anyway we should get take out at Mobo Sushi, which is one of my top three sushi restaurants in the whole Bay Area. So we did. And then we found a bench overlooking a section of beach, watched people dog walking and some kids playing, but almost entirely deserted, relative to how i think of santa cruz beaches. People were all social distancing!
* (i havent talked much about this because a ton of people have been shit talking "stupid people going to beaches" but i feel we were quite responsible, and so was everyone else we saw, adhering to the established guidelines.)
* so we ate sushi and watched the sunset. I took a few photos, they're also on my instagram, it was a lovely ocean sunset. and then we drove home, and washed our hands washed our hands washed our hands.
Sunday mar 22: Jeff starts to set up the little blue office for video calls and working from home. We got my old desk out of the garage (it's a beautiful desk) and assembled it once we moved all the storage out of the blue room.
* Before the coronavirus blew up the world, he had been thinking of quitting his job. I wanted to support him, i know he's hella burned out, but fortunately GrlPurple convinced him that maybe quitting a well paying job with excellent medical insurance just as a pandemic is ramping up might not be the best choice.
* his work is not currently demanding that everyone work full 40 hour weeks. which is a relief.
***end of first week of SHIP
Monday mar 23: *facepalm* just realized that for maybe the first time since i was a teenager i completely failed to note the Ides of March.
* My mood tanked. had a very quiet day, not much social interaction.
* Did make myself get up, sort out the sewing machine, and sewed most of a dozen mask blanks together on three sides. Filmed part of the process and posted video to facebook. #covidclasses
* okay i guess in retrospect that was a fairly productive day.
* watched a video of the Northern Lights with Jeff. it had classical music and was incredibly restful, i felt my face relax while we watched it.
* watched more Korra, and started watching Sex Education on Netflix. I *really* like it, now that we're past the awkward high school pilot interactions. Definitely getting better the more of it I see.
Tuesday mar 24 Couples Therapy session on Zoom with Lara. NOtes: both feeling underappreciated, we need to talk more about chores and requests made of each other. I need better attention signals (my hearing and my ADHD) because Jeff feels disregarded when I miss his bids for attention. I mentioned needing more explicit versus implicit directions, which he didnt want to be responsible for, which is fair but i still need it. we talked about responding to one another with curiosity and patience vs reactivity and defensiveness.
* i wrote up the notes for the session into the google doc we are sharing with Lara (jeff wrote them up last time I think its a good idea if we alternate, both contributing, both taking responsibility)
* After therapy we took a drive out to get groceries. Jeff went in and I stayed in the car, listening to music and facebooking. He's healthier than i am and doesn't have the lung medical history I do.
* We made dinner together and ate, then went to the Tiny Blue Office for a virtual cocktail hour with the Duartes, Roger and Daniel, Mindy and Steve, Amy (GrlPurple), Rob and Laura (and their dogs). That was really nice, so nice it surprised me. I didn't realize that I missed the Duarte daughters!
* new insinkerator garbage disposal was delivered a day early! WOOOOOOOOt
Wednesday mar 25: had a morning Zoom workout with Etty. My first workout in a couple of weeks. I was tense as shit and my knee had been giving me pain from musculoskeletal tension.
* after the workout i had a mood crash, a sad/overwhelm.
* i need to eat more. i know, i KNOW that when i don't eat enough i have a mood crash, i've been hyperglycemic and then now formally diabetic for *years*
* Jeff installed the brand new insinkerator. It's very shiny and very quiet.
* I restored the undersink compartment to its previous storage-shelf self, and moved all the dishwashing infrastructure back into the kitchen.
* Jeff designed and 3d printed the components he needed to install the not-sodastream into the craft sink. Look! fizzy water in my house!
* I cooked salmon for dinner. it was yummy.
Thursday mar 26: Yesterday.
* sore as HELL from wednesday's workout. pectorals and ... i think theyre hamstrings, squatting and sideways moving muscles i need to look up the structure of the thigh because i need to be intentional about strengthening whatever they are. Because my knee doesn't hurt when that muscle is limber. #research goals #exercise goals
* reordered my Rx for levothroid and warfarin
* drove out to get more canned cat food, got curbside pickup at the vet. I paid verbally on the phone and they brought it out to the car when we arrived. also TIL that the Tesla control console screen will let you open the trunk while still in the car.
* Jeff made us a lovely LOVELY lamb dinner, and I enjoyed eating it BUT i must MUST REMEMBER to take my probiotics EVERY TIME i eat an unusual protein because my bowels HATED their job
which brings us up to today
Friday, mar 27. Had another workout with Etty, despite interruptions from phone-battery crash and digestive upset, I feel like it went really well. Since the gym is actually closing for the duration of this coronavirus epidemic, Etty and I need to work out a new payment method. She has two methods I don't have, and I have two methods SHE doesn't have, hahaha.
* leftover steak for lunch and one or two of those mcvities chocolate digestives that are just SO COMFORTING with the last of my tea
* my fingertips/cuticles are starting to crack and peel again. i have a couple of spots that are bleeding, and the manicure i got with Amy and Joanne before the SHIP started has been peeling off. I think I would like to spend a little time exfoliating my hands, trimming up my cuticles, shaping the nails, and painting them again. P sure i have some nail polish remover around here.
* I want to start composting again. I'll work on diverting my green waste and find out if the garden center near us has any of the red roundworms, start up my worm bin again.
* I found some art cards that I can color in and I want to start sending art randomly to friends, and family.
* god WHY AM I SO BAD AT PHONE CALLS i have a voicemail from my sister that's like four days old and short videos from my sisterinlaw that are nearly that old that i haven't watched. UGHHHHHH
Thanks for sticking with me through this long-ass post. I'm going to try again to subscribe to all-yall so i get notices when you post.
sending love and immunity-strengtheners,
Liz
#i love tumblr
it said something like, "housebound, communicating by writing, not allowed to touch anyone not of your household. I've never related to Jane Austen's novels more."
so. that's a thing.
had my second Zoom meeting with my trainer, Etty. plagued with technical difficulties because my phone is four years old and the battery crashes like, all the time. Last time we started with the laptop, and shifted to the phone mid session because i hadn't charged up the laptop. LOL
Today the phone just straight up died after a half an hour video call. 75% charged, my right butt cheek. Ran inside, got a battery pack (thank gods for that one burning man art project we did, we have like 5 battery packs) and we finished the session okay.
my leg had started to hurt kind of a lot. no dancing, no workouts, minimal walking, not a lot of stretching. full body tension, you know what i mean if you have old injuries that still give you grief. and now instead my muscles are SORE but not tense in the same way.
i call it "fun-pain". when you cuss going up and down stairs because your inner hamstring is twanging from yesterday's workout. that's fun-pain.
okay now the cat has pinned my arm to the kitchen table while i type on the laptop, might as well make this a long post.
monday mar 16: Notified of Shelter-In-Place (SHIP). washed & folded a bunch of my damn laundry. we were already more or less Hobbiting in place (HIP) so i didn't think i'd mind too much. my thoughts about that have somewhat changed.
Tuesday mar 17: day 1 mandatory SHIP. walked outside w jeff. Met neighbor Jessica, talked about skillsharing and foodsharing, turns out she runs an email list for the local community. picked up dry cleaning (keepign 6' distance) and washed the hell out of our hands.
Video conference with therapist, our first couples counseling. went well, i think.
watched *your name* which totally fuckin deserved the awards it won.
Wednesday mar 18: finished writing "Would you...?" and posted to tumblr.
* did a color sketch of the red tulips on the verge of losing all their petals. Looks good on the black paper, and I think i did a decent job of getting the proportions right. posted photos to my art instagram, which you can see if we're FB friends.
* Started watching Legend of Korra and DAMN THE HAPPY PLACE FOR ME! woo!
Thursday mar 19. Jeff had discovered that the garbage disposal was leaking under the sink cabinet, so he took it out, found it's all rusted and pitted and the motor was... well. not healthy. he ordered a new one (five+/- days for delivery) and we set ourselves up to wash our dishes in the laundry sink. thank fuck we had the laundry sink, but ughhhhhhhhhhh handwashing all the dishes and pots and pans.
* Cut out 25 or so of two kinds of fabric to make medical masks from.
* Finished reading _REd, White, and Royal Blue_ which is SO GOOD that I'll try and put a link in the comments. everyone who like fanfiction and queer fiction will probably love this little AU. it made me so happy, i gasped more than once, laughed out loud, and literally felt my heart warm.
Friday mar 20. slept the hell in, got lost in Tumblr, and didnt get my breakfast till 1153.
* i insisted on us stripping and remaking the bed with fresh sheets because usually we would have had a wednesday visit from the cleaning folks, so we had to do it ourselves. Jeff was helpful when i explained.
* (looking back from the friday following this day, we have GOT to sweep and mop the floors because argh the dust is getting to me pretty good.)
* Jeff repaired the leak in the hot tub that has been costing us $ and gallons. I helped a little by lying on my face on the deck with a mirror so i could see the gasket that was leaking and was able to confirm that it was no longer leaking. perhaps that's not a little thing, can u imaging the PITA of being in the hot tub with tools, then having to climb out and lay down to try and see if you did it right? it's the context switch that's expensive, cognitively. I knew this, blogged about it in my election day post, but confirmation.
Digression: some hospital workers are working the long ass days like I worked on election day, only EVERY DAY. Try to find something you can do to support your hospital workers, your friends and family who are isolated, or people who are hungry.
Saturday mar 21: Jeff and i had sex, yay! it was nice.
* went for a walk around the neighborhood, met Carlos and Yvette on the corner, the house with the short chainlink fence and kids toys in the yard, across from the house with the lemon trees.
* had the idea of offering services to parents i know with short art lessons or reading lessons. should drop a note in carlos and yvette's mailbox to that effect, with my phone number for texting.
* got the idea to take a long drive. after some negotiation with Jeff we decided on santa cruz so we could see the ocean, and i said if we're there anyway we should get take out at Mobo Sushi, which is one of my top three sushi restaurants in the whole Bay Area. So we did. And then we found a bench overlooking a section of beach, watched people dog walking and some kids playing, but almost entirely deserted, relative to how i think of santa cruz beaches. People were all social distancing!
* (i havent talked much about this because a ton of people have been shit talking "stupid people going to beaches" but i feel we were quite responsible, and so was everyone else we saw, adhering to the established guidelines.)
* so we ate sushi and watched the sunset. I took a few photos, they're also on my instagram, it was a lovely ocean sunset. and then we drove home, and washed our hands washed our hands washed our hands.
Sunday mar 22: Jeff starts to set up the little blue office for video calls and working from home. We got my old desk out of the garage (it's a beautiful desk) and assembled it once we moved all the storage out of the blue room.
* Before the coronavirus blew up the world, he had been thinking of quitting his job. I wanted to support him, i know he's hella burned out, but fortunately GrlPurple convinced him that maybe quitting a well paying job with excellent medical insurance just as a pandemic is ramping up might not be the best choice.
* his work is not currently demanding that everyone work full 40 hour weeks. which is a relief.
***end of first week of SHIP
Monday mar 23: *facepalm* just realized that for maybe the first time since i was a teenager i completely failed to note the Ides of March.
* My mood tanked. had a very quiet day, not much social interaction.
* Did make myself get up, sort out the sewing machine, and sewed most of a dozen mask blanks together on three sides. Filmed part of the process and posted video to facebook. #covidclasses
* okay i guess in retrospect that was a fairly productive day.
* watched a video of the Northern Lights with Jeff. it had classical music and was incredibly restful, i felt my face relax while we watched it.
* watched more Korra, and started watching Sex Education on Netflix. I *really* like it, now that we're past the awkward high school pilot interactions. Definitely getting better the more of it I see.
Tuesday mar 24 Couples Therapy session on Zoom with Lara. NOtes: both feeling underappreciated, we need to talk more about chores and requests made of each other. I need better attention signals (my hearing and my ADHD) because Jeff feels disregarded when I miss his bids for attention. I mentioned needing more explicit versus implicit directions, which he didnt want to be responsible for, which is fair but i still need it. we talked about responding to one another with curiosity and patience vs reactivity and defensiveness.
* i wrote up the notes for the session into the google doc we are sharing with Lara (jeff wrote them up last time I think its a good idea if we alternate, both contributing, both taking responsibility)
* After therapy we took a drive out to get groceries. Jeff went in and I stayed in the car, listening to music and facebooking. He's healthier than i am and doesn't have the lung medical history I do.
* We made dinner together and ate, then went to the Tiny Blue Office for a virtual cocktail hour with the Duartes, Roger and Daniel, Mindy and Steve, Amy (GrlPurple), Rob and Laura (and their dogs). That was really nice, so nice it surprised me. I didn't realize that I missed the Duarte daughters!
* new insinkerator garbage disposal was delivered a day early! WOOOOOOOOt
Wednesday mar 25: had a morning Zoom workout with Etty. My first workout in a couple of weeks. I was tense as shit and my knee had been giving me pain from musculoskeletal tension.
* after the workout i had a mood crash, a sad/overwhelm.
* i need to eat more. i know, i KNOW that when i don't eat enough i have a mood crash, i've been hyperglycemic and then now formally diabetic for *years*
* Jeff installed the brand new insinkerator. It's very shiny and very quiet.
* I restored the undersink compartment to its previous storage-shelf self, and moved all the dishwashing infrastructure back into the kitchen.
* Jeff designed and 3d printed the components he needed to install the not-sodastream into the craft sink. Look! fizzy water in my house!
* I cooked salmon for dinner. it was yummy.
Thursday mar 26: Yesterday.
* sore as HELL from wednesday's workout. pectorals and ... i think theyre hamstrings, squatting and sideways moving muscles i need to look up the structure of the thigh because i need to be intentional about strengthening whatever they are. Because my knee doesn't hurt when that muscle is limber. #research goals #exercise goals
* reordered my Rx for levothroid and warfarin
* drove out to get more canned cat food, got curbside pickup at the vet. I paid verbally on the phone and they brought it out to the car when we arrived. also TIL that the Tesla control console screen will let you open the trunk while still in the car.
* Jeff made us a lovely LOVELY lamb dinner, and I enjoyed eating it BUT i must MUST REMEMBER to take my probiotics EVERY TIME i eat an unusual protein because my bowels HATED their job
which brings us up to today
Friday, mar 27. Had another workout with Etty, despite interruptions from phone-battery crash and digestive upset, I feel like it went really well. Since the gym is actually closing for the duration of this coronavirus epidemic, Etty and I need to work out a new payment method. She has two methods I don't have, and I have two methods SHE doesn't have, hahaha.
* leftover steak for lunch and one or two of those mcvities chocolate digestives that are just SO COMFORTING with the last of my tea
* my fingertips/cuticles are starting to crack and peel again. i have a couple of spots that are bleeding, and the manicure i got with Amy and Joanne before the SHIP started has been peeling off. I think I would like to spend a little time exfoliating my hands, trimming up my cuticles, shaping the nails, and painting them again. P sure i have some nail polish remover around here.
* I want to start composting again. I'll work on diverting my green waste and find out if the garden center near us has any of the red roundworms, start up my worm bin again.
* I found some art cards that I can color in and I want to start sending art randomly to friends, and family.
* god WHY AM I SO BAD AT PHONE CALLS i have a voicemail from my sister that's like four days old and short videos from my sisterinlaw that are nearly that old that i haven't watched. UGHHHHHH
Thanks for sticking with me through this long-ass post. I'm going to try again to subscribe to all-yall so i get notices when you post.
sending love and immunity-strengtheners,
Liz
Tags:
Our families hurt us.
For some lucky bastards this isn't true... And this is an insomnia-post, where it's the middle of the night and I feel like I'm having some great insight...
One. Our families hurt us by actually lashing out, actually setting out to hurt us.
Two. Our families hurt us by not providing what we need to thrive, at a young enough age where we can't actually express what we need, or to ask for it.
Three. There's as many reasons why as there are suffering families.
Four. Whatever we don't find healing for, we continue to propagate outwards, in our sibling relationships, intimate and romantic relationships, work and friend relationships. In our political opinions.
Five. Once we start recognizing and healing that wound, we can recognize that wounding in others. Sometimes that means we can help someone else to start healing or continue healing. Sometimes...Not. Sometimes the best that knowledge can do for us is to help us avoid people who will make our original suffering worse.
Six. It's complicated. Smarter people than me have studied this EXTENSIVELY.
And it's stupid o'clock in the morning, and I'm going back to bed now.
For some lucky bastards this isn't true... And this is an insomnia-post, where it's the middle of the night and I feel like I'm having some great insight...
One. Our families hurt us by actually lashing out, actually setting out to hurt us.
Two. Our families hurt us by not providing what we need to thrive, at a young enough age where we can't actually express what we need, or to ask for it.
Three. There's as many reasons why as there are suffering families.
Four. Whatever we don't find healing for, we continue to propagate outwards, in our sibling relationships, intimate and romantic relationships, work and friend relationships. In our political opinions.
Five. Once we start recognizing and healing that wound, we can recognize that wounding in others. Sometimes that means we can help someone else to start healing or continue healing. Sometimes...Not. Sometimes the best that knowledge can do for us is to help us avoid people who will make our original suffering worse.
Six. It's complicated. Smarter people than me have studied this EXTENSIVELY.
And it's stupid o'clock in the morning, and I'm going back to bed now.
I got an invitation to the spoken word stage out at Burning Man and I'm really looking forward to bringing some of my poetry and a couple of my stories out and performing them. It's been years since I've been on a stage and longer since I performed my original material.
I've been trawling through my archives here, looking for work under the "personal cartography" tag and "here be dragons" tag, the "face the fear and do it anyway" , and "writing is better than therapy" tags. Turns out I have quite a lot of good stuff that I would be happy presenting to an audience with a little light editing and perhaps some context.
I can't believe I'm not afraid of doing this! I'm so excited!
BTW my Playa name, legitimately, is Words. 😆😆😆
I've been trawling through my archives here, looking for work under the "personal cartography" tag and "here be dragons" tag, the "face the fear and do it anyway" , and "writing is better than therapy" tags. Turns out I have quite a lot of good stuff that I would be happy presenting to an audience with a little light editing and perhaps some context.
I can't believe I'm not afraid of doing this! I'm so excited!
BTW my Playa name, legitimately, is Words. 😆😆😆
Tags:
Tonight i started my occasional reread of The Dark Is Rising, that iconically witchy and spooky Newbury Award winner...
as the kids say these days
#mood
thinking back on the rest of the year, I have to admit that some really good things got done.
rephrase.
I DID some really good things. Some hard things.
possibly one of the hardest things i did was to really write a proper apology for something I said and did when i was sixteen, dumb and lonely and hurting. I lashed out at someone from that place, someone who I thought was part of my hurting but it turned out, not.
we connected on facebook sometime in the last year and a half or so. and I wound up offering an apology, and sharing the WHY of me hurting him intentionally, because i had done that, and I hoped that having context would help him let go of any lingering bullshit from that moment in time.
turns out, I'd only ever spoken about this to therapists. well. therapist. And now that #metoo has entered the global lexicon, it finally felt safe to speak of it, where I felt so much shame about being bullied in the particular way that led me to lash out at E.
i've been describing the release of sharing that story, as like when you get a long deep redwood splinter in your hand. and you work for awhile and you get MOST of the splinter out but the tail end is still stuck in there for AGES and it gets infected and it's painful and you just have to work around it for a long time.
and then one day, you wash your hands in just the right way, and that last bit gets released. Adn you can work it free, finally, and finally you can heal the infection, work out the scar tissue. Un-adapt all the habits you built because that fucking splinter had (I have a momentary reluctance to own this word for my situation but) WOUNDED you.
the particular type of bullying and the story i told around it at the time opened the door wider for me to be in abusive romantic relationships for *counts* at least 10 years? Probably longer.
that splinter is GONE, now.
and I told E. he didn't have to reply to my story but that I hoped he'd accept my apology.
and Elizabeth Regnant, self-crowned, walks out from the shadows and into the light, claiming the throne and crowning myself.
I had so much power and I had no idea.
I had so much potential and I couldn't see it.
I was bound for so long by the stories the world told about me.
I am not bound.
I understand my potential.
My power is clear and near at hand.
I am the storyteller.
Old women are the keepers of the stories.
Old women are the truth tellers.
Old women don't tolerate bullshit, and we enunciate clearly when the emperor has no clothes.
Storytellers are dangerous, we change worlds.
We heal. We make things right, even if just in the story.
We break things in the story so that everyone can recognize the brokenness in their homeworld.
Storytellers are full of power. In some ways of thinking, it's the only power.
If you tell the stories and people believe them, those stories change lives.
Stories... are everything.
every belief system is made of stories. every political movement is made of stories.
every human relationship is made of stories.
See the stories clearly.
Tell the stories wisely.
Demonstrate your love and your understanding through your stories.
Don't fling them about frivolously.
as the kids say these days
#mood
thinking back on the rest of the year, I have to admit that some really good things got done.
rephrase.
I DID some really good things. Some hard things.
possibly one of the hardest things i did was to really write a proper apology for something I said and did when i was sixteen, dumb and lonely and hurting. I lashed out at someone from that place, someone who I thought was part of my hurting but it turned out, not.
we connected on facebook sometime in the last year and a half or so. and I wound up offering an apology, and sharing the WHY of me hurting him intentionally, because i had done that, and I hoped that having context would help him let go of any lingering bullshit from that moment in time.
turns out, I'd only ever spoken about this to therapists. well. therapist. And now that #metoo has entered the global lexicon, it finally felt safe to speak of it, where I felt so much shame about being bullied in the particular way that led me to lash out at E.
i've been describing the release of sharing that story, as like when you get a long deep redwood splinter in your hand. and you work for awhile and you get MOST of the splinter out but the tail end is still stuck in there for AGES and it gets infected and it's painful and you just have to work around it for a long time.
and then one day, you wash your hands in just the right way, and that last bit gets released. Adn you can work it free, finally, and finally you can heal the infection, work out the scar tissue. Un-adapt all the habits you built because that fucking splinter had (I have a momentary reluctance to own this word for my situation but) WOUNDED you.
the particular type of bullying and the story i told around it at the time opened the door wider for me to be in abusive romantic relationships for *counts* at least 10 years? Probably longer.
that splinter is GONE, now.
and I told E. he didn't have to reply to my story but that I hoped he'd accept my apology.
and Elizabeth Regnant, self-crowned, walks out from the shadows and into the light, claiming the throne and crowning myself.
I had so much power and I had no idea.
I had so much potential and I couldn't see it.
I was bound for so long by the stories the world told about me.
I am not bound.
I understand my potential.
My power is clear and near at hand.
I am the storyteller.
Old women are the keepers of the stories.
Old women are the truth tellers.
Old women don't tolerate bullshit, and we enunciate clearly when the emperor has no clothes.
Storytellers are dangerous, we change worlds.
We heal. We make things right, even if just in the story.
We break things in the story so that everyone can recognize the brokenness in their homeworld.
Storytellers are full of power. In some ways of thinking, it's the only power.
If you tell the stories and people believe them, those stories change lives.
Stories... are everything.
every belief system is made of stories. every political movement is made of stories.
every human relationship is made of stories.
See the stories clearly.
Tell the stories wisely.
Demonstrate your love and your understanding through your stories.
Don't fling them about frivolously.
Tags:
The prompt was "Nessie" but I'm taking this somewhere else underwater.
Longing. Have you ever been shamed for what you craved? Has your longing ever been pointed out as wrong or weird or twisted or broken or an imposition or something unnecessary?
I have. I've been shamed for wanting things, for wanting experiences, for wanting people. And I don't think that was right. And most days I'm okay, most days it feels like I'm over it, but today is not one of those days.
The thing about a longing is it doesn't come out of your mind. It's not a thought. It wells up from deep in your belly, deep in your heart, or dare I say it, spirit or soul. You can't talk yourself out of a longing.
You can hold yourself quiet about it, can keep the surface of your personal pond pristine and peaceful. Still, underneath the surface something lives, something moves, something travels. Something roils the water beneath the surface.
And there are days where I can no longer bear to live on the quiet pristine peaceful surface. On a day like today, I sink below to the Deep places, where the water presses through my flesh and into my bones.
I sink down to the deep mud churned places, where I can finally breathe.
Longing. Have you ever been shamed for what you craved? Has your longing ever been pointed out as wrong or weird or twisted or broken or an imposition or something unnecessary?
I have. I've been shamed for wanting things, for wanting experiences, for wanting people. And I don't think that was right. And most days I'm okay, most days it feels like I'm over it, but today is not one of those days.
The thing about a longing is it doesn't come out of your mind. It's not a thought. It wells up from deep in your belly, deep in your heart, or dare I say it, spirit or soul. You can't talk yourself out of a longing.
You can hold yourself quiet about it, can keep the surface of your personal pond pristine and peaceful. Still, underneath the surface something lives, something moves, something travels. Something roils the water beneath the surface.
And there are days where I can no longer bear to live on the quiet pristine peaceful surface. On a day like today, I sink below to the Deep places, where the water presses through my flesh and into my bones.
I sink down to the deep mud churned places, where I can finally breathe.
Tags:
the meme I mentioned in my previous post:
Day: Subject
1: Witch
2: Black Cat
3: Cryptid
4: Mushroom
5: Laboratory
6: Ghost
7: Haunted Object
8: Yokai (??)
9: Spider Baby (??)
10: Lagoon (Creature)
11: Bat (soft and fuzzy sky puppy)
12: Vampire (emotional vampire
13: Grave/Coffin (Flonk meets Janelle)
14: Skeleton (my own bones)
15: Owl (I'm thinking Athena/Medusa)
16: Goblin (unslaked hunger)
17: Werewolf
18: Rats
19: Seance
20: Serpent
21: Alien (how he looked at me)
22: Pumpkin
23: Monster (Freestyle)
24: Hunter's Moon
25: Dark Forest
26: Toad
27: Swamp Thing
28: Raven (Morrigan, or eyeballs)
29: Mary Shelley
30: Bride
31: Frankenstein (the musical)
Day: Subject
1: Witch
2: Black Cat
3: Cryptid
4: Mushroom
5: Laboratory
6: Ghost
7: Haunted Object
8: Yokai (??)
9: Spider Baby (??)
10: Lagoon (Creature)
11: Bat (soft and fuzzy sky puppy)
12: Vampire (emotional vampire
13: Grave/Coffin (Flonk meets Janelle)
14: Skeleton (my own bones)
15: Owl (I'm thinking Athena/Medusa)
16: Goblin (unslaked hunger)
17: Werewolf
18: Rats
19: Seance
20: Serpent
21: Alien (how he looked at me)
22: Pumpkin
23: Monster (Freestyle)
24: Hunter's Moon
25: Dark Forest
26: Toad
27: Swamp Thing
28: Raven (Morrigan, or eyeballs)
29: Mary Shelley
30: Bride
31: Frankenstein (the musical)
for Inktober, a meme crossed my dash on FB
i wanna write short pieces for each of them
day 1 is Witch
I didn't plan to become a witch
but the pain was too much
and it had to go somewhere
you flayed me open
pushed inside and
burned my heart
I pulled myself back together
grasping at ragged frayed edges
of my dignity and personhood
and then I finally got home:
told you what I thought of you
and burned the last vestiges in the sink.
wiping all of your fingerprints off
may never be completely finished
because fuck this stupid world anyway
getting bad-touched again and again
till you can say no and mean it
and make it stick (goddamn those who push straight to hell)
goddamn me too; I try to do right/write/rite
without the language to call it what it is
and so I study the secret words.
Power. Words are Power.
Name it. Hold it still.
And someday? it will do as you will.
i wanna write short pieces for each of them
day 1 is Witch
I didn't plan to become a witch
but the pain was too much
and it had to go somewhere
you flayed me open
pushed inside and
burned my heart
I pulled myself back together
grasping at ragged frayed edges
of my dignity and personhood
and then I finally got home:
told you what I thought of you
and burned the last vestiges in the sink.
wiping all of your fingerprints off
may never be completely finished
because fuck this stupid world anyway
getting bad-touched again and again
till you can say no and mean it
and make it stick (goddamn those who push straight to hell)
goddamn me too; I try to do right/write/rite
without the language to call it what it is
and so I study the secret words.
Power. Words are Power.
Name it. Hold it still.
And someday? it will do as you will.
Tags:
hey y'all
sorry i've basically let this place get dusty. Been focusing almost exclusively on writing fic, and blogging has fallen way way to the side. I'm processing my stuff, my personal stuff, by working it into stories, and i'm having a lot of fun, plus I think i'm definitely becoming a better writer.
i write a lot on tumblr, but it's mostly replies, occasional snarky comments, and i write daily stuff up on facebook.
livejournal just sent me a notice that their attempt to charge my credit card for my subscription failed, which is just as well because i don't wanna support a russian company anymore. unfortunately that means that some photos have probably been tossed on the trash heap because if you're not paying them they won't store your shit. oh well.
if you would like to read my stories, i recommend that you check out the delightfully queer hockey webcomic Check, Please (came for the gay, stayed for the hockey) at this lovely and well crafted link! wow i can't believe i still remember that little html trick!
okay, so i'm still dealing with my usual adhd but the kaiser doctor doesn't believe that i have the adhd she says i do have the depression so that's something I'm planning on researching.
i am still pretty sure i do have adhd but *shrug* if they're not going to do meds for me that's fine, i'll keep trying to fuckin figure out how to get my routines back organized. I'm a little bit mad about it but fuck them.
okay. i hope all y'all are having a good 2018 so far i promise i will try to come back up in here and get caught up with your lives and all.
*mwah*
sorry i've basically let this place get dusty. Been focusing almost exclusively on writing fic, and blogging has fallen way way to the side. I'm processing my stuff, my personal stuff, by working it into stories, and i'm having a lot of fun, plus I think i'm definitely becoming a better writer.
i write a lot on tumblr, but it's mostly replies, occasional snarky comments, and i write daily stuff up on facebook.
livejournal just sent me a notice that their attempt to charge my credit card for my subscription failed, which is just as well because i don't wanna support a russian company anymore. unfortunately that means that some photos have probably been tossed on the trash heap because if you're not paying them they won't store your shit. oh well.
if you would like to read my stories, i recommend that you check out the delightfully queer hockey webcomic Check, Please (came for the gay, stayed for the hockey) at this lovely and well crafted link! wow i can't believe i still remember that little html trick!
okay, so i'm still dealing with my usual adhd but the kaiser doctor doesn't believe that i have the adhd she says i do have the depression so that's something I'm planning on researching.
i am still pretty sure i do have adhd but *shrug* if they're not going to do meds for me that's fine, i'll keep trying to fuckin figure out how to get my routines back organized. I'm a little bit mad about it but fuck them.
okay. i hope all y'all are having a good 2018 so far i promise i will try to come back up in here and get caught up with your lives and all.
*mwah*
Tags:
y'all, if you've broken yourself and you still have pain, may I recommend seeing a good chiropractor?
*emphasis on GOOD*
I probably don't, almost certainly don't, see Larry often enough, given the number and range of my life of dislocations, injuries and breaks. (and they're all on the right hand side!)
Like a really thorough massage, when I go and lie on Larry's table, the end result has always been a drastic decrease in pain, drastic increase in flexibility, and an ongoing process of continuing indirect adjustments that my body does for itself after the direct treatment.
tonight I had a nice rich orgasm followed by a lovely nap, and then I was stretching around in bed as I usually do nowadays when I wake up, and two things adjusted themselves in my wrist, and my ACHILLES TENDON that's been tight and giving me grief for months and sometimes, makes me hobble really bad for an hour after I wake up.
y'all, it just went CLICK and I'm gonna test it in the morning but I think it's settled back in where it's supposed to be!
and yesterday my left shoulder just stretched forward and to the side and went CLICK and I have +15 degrees of flexibility going backwards now on both sides. just WOW.
I keep forgetting how many times I've broken this body of mine in various ways. this car wreck of NYE is the first one in memory that I didn't contribute to with some kind of impulsive action. There's a lot less, as in almost none, self blame in this case. I've just been working on healing, and healing minus blaming myself is actually not too bad at all.
but yeah. During this process I worked multiple times with medical doctors, the orthopedic doc, the physical therapist, my massage therapist, the chiropractor, and twice a week with my trainer at the gym.
healing is hard goddamn work and I'm trying like hell to not feel guilty that I have the resources and time necessary to try and heal up properly. If I were still employed in the education profession I would never have allowed myself this time energy and attention to heal as completely as I have while underemployed; that culture is hip-deep in a guilt and martyrdom complex of sacrificing yourself for the kids and I ain't about that anymore. sixteen years is plenty.
I'm healing and I refuse to feel guilty about this.
Note to self: remember the isometric stretches and counter stretches to encourage the tight places to relax.
*emphasis on GOOD*
I probably don't, almost certainly don't, see Larry often enough, given the number and range of my life of dislocations, injuries and breaks. (and they're all on the right hand side!)
Like a really thorough massage, when I go and lie on Larry's table, the end result has always been a drastic decrease in pain, drastic increase in flexibility, and an ongoing process of continuing indirect adjustments that my body does for itself after the direct treatment.
tonight I had a nice rich orgasm followed by a lovely nap, and then I was stretching around in bed as I usually do nowadays when I wake up, and two things adjusted themselves in my wrist, and my ACHILLES TENDON that's been tight and giving me grief for months and sometimes, makes me hobble really bad for an hour after I wake up.
y'all, it just went CLICK and I'm gonna test it in the morning but I think it's settled back in where it's supposed to be!
and yesterday my left shoulder just stretched forward and to the side and went CLICK and I have +15 degrees of flexibility going backwards now on both sides. just WOW.
I keep forgetting how many times I've broken this body of mine in various ways. this car wreck of NYE is the first one in memory that I didn't contribute to with some kind of impulsive action. There's a lot less, as in almost none, self blame in this case. I've just been working on healing, and healing minus blaming myself is actually not too bad at all.
but yeah. During this process I worked multiple times with medical doctors, the orthopedic doc, the physical therapist, my massage therapist, the chiropractor, and twice a week with my trainer at the gym.
healing is hard goddamn work and I'm trying like hell to not feel guilty that I have the resources and time necessary to try and heal up properly. If I were still employed in the education profession I would never have allowed myself this time energy and attention to heal as completely as I have while underemployed; that culture is hip-deep in a guilt and martyrdom complex of sacrificing yourself for the kids and I ain't about that anymore. sixteen years is plenty.
I'm healing and I refuse to feel guilty about this.
Note to self: remember the isometric stretches and counter stretches to encourage the tight places to relax.
Tags:
Okay y'all, I was going through my posts to do with the car wreck of 12/31/16 where my wrist was broken and realized I haven't talked about it in quite some time.
I'm largely good. Still wouldn't call it 100%, and I've definitely still got some collateral damage that requires work and balancing, (muscle adhesions and stiffness and such stuff that developed further up the arm and shoulder from the initial injury and then from the immobilization) but I'm definitely functional. Call this halfway through month 8.
I can do most of the things I need to do in my life, but my shoulders get tired, tense and I got a couple of muscle knots that keep recurring under my shoulder blade. I've got some muscular tension under the ulna pretty well constantly, but it's more discomfort than pain. The pinky aches, like right now with typing, I can't hit the "p" or the quote mark with my pinky. I've adapted and use my ring finger instead. I'd definitely like to do that again, but I'm okay where I am right now.
I think I'm healed enough to go see my chiropractor, Larry, for the pain and inflexibility again. I'm hoping he can help me with the tendon on the last joint of the pinky. It feels like it's ... off track? does that make sense? Like there should be something to do that would click it back "in place" and then the mobility would be better and all.
Hand strength is pretty good, almost normal again. I can pull four plates at a time out of the dishwasher in each hand again! (that's so fun.) Still seeing our massage therapist twice a month and will for as long as she's still living locally. IDK what I'm gonna do if she actually does move away. Nadine is a motherfuckin' BEAUTY, a real treasure.
Still working out twice a week, everything's working there. My core strength, legs and back are in good shape, and I can hold myself up on my hands for some of the exercises. I can definitely hang from the TRX straps to do inverted rows and I LOVE that... I need to push myself back into yoga; last time I checked I could actually DO the basic inversions like Down Dog with only mild discomfort, and yoga is so good for the whole integration of my body, stretching and elongating *sigh* ... still trying to get out to dance at least once a week...
Got some more good stuff moving in my life, but I think I'll try and make that a separate post.
*waves bye so she can eat dinner and go to a dance meditation class*
I'm largely good. Still wouldn't call it 100%, and I've definitely still got some collateral damage that requires work and balancing, (muscle adhesions and stiffness and such stuff that developed further up the arm and shoulder from the initial injury and then from the immobilization) but I'm definitely functional. Call this halfway through month 8.
I can do most of the things I need to do in my life, but my shoulders get tired, tense and I got a couple of muscle knots that keep recurring under my shoulder blade. I've got some muscular tension under the ulna pretty well constantly, but it's more discomfort than pain. The pinky aches, like right now with typing, I can't hit the "p" or the quote mark with my pinky. I've adapted and use my ring finger instead. I'd definitely like to do that again, but I'm okay where I am right now.
I think I'm healed enough to go see my chiropractor, Larry, for the pain and inflexibility again. I'm hoping he can help me with the tendon on the last joint of the pinky. It feels like it's ... off track? does that make sense? Like there should be something to do that would click it back "in place" and then the mobility would be better and all.
Hand strength is pretty good, almost normal again. I can pull four plates at a time out of the dishwasher in each hand again! (that's so fun.) Still seeing our massage therapist twice a month and will for as long as she's still living locally. IDK what I'm gonna do if she actually does move away. Nadine is a motherfuckin' BEAUTY, a real treasure.
Still working out twice a week, everything's working there. My core strength, legs and back are in good shape, and I can hold myself up on my hands for some of the exercises. I can definitely hang from the TRX straps to do inverted rows and I LOVE that... I need to push myself back into yoga; last time I checked I could actually DO the basic inversions like Down Dog with only mild discomfort, and yoga is so good for the whole integration of my body, stretching and elongating *sigh* ... still trying to get out to dance at least once a week...
Got some more good stuff moving in my life, but I think I'll try and make that a separate post.
*waves bye so she can eat dinner and go to a dance meditation class*
Tags:
Homework: write list of affirmation (I am, Liz is, Lizzie, you are)
Lara wants me to write lists of affirmations, and she said by using different ways to access the brain new things can come to light. so, first person, third person, second person.
I've done something similar before in exercises to access my subconscious mind. Feri calls that part of us, Fetch, also known as Child-self. Fetch is the part of ourselves that cannot be accessed by words or logic, it's nonverbal, responds to and communicates by way of sensory input and feelings: colors, smells, texture, I like, I don't like, crying, laughing.
anyway. that's kind of a digression, but not entirely so.
and welp, I don't really have any idea how to do affirmations. We were doing some short breathing meditations on Thursday and she was talking me through it and one thing she said was to "celebrate your successes" and my brain just... like a needle scratch across a 45 record. Like those words, they didn't parse.
1) Celebrate ME?
and
2) I don't even know what success IS. How can I grasp it long enough to celebrate it, and note 1).
*sour face*
I know that is entirely the wrong way to go about this assignment. I'm okay with being stuck for the moment.
Arbitrarily I'm picking TEN as how many genuine affirmations I have to come up with. I'm going to go look up the proper definition, and I'm going to promise myself to not be weasel worded with my list.
I want to be authentic, and to really give myself a frame.
I spend entirely too much time in my head, chewing over all the ways I'm certain I've fucked up, broken things, made irredeemable or unforgivable mistakes. I'm not even very good at faking that I think I'm all that.
The one thing I have going for me right now with regard to my mental health, is my vivid memories of how shitty the inside of my head used to be, before therapy, before beloved friends taught me about community and ritual, before I learned some new coping skills and strategies to get around my constant mental noise and chaos.
I do know that I'm LOTS better than I was 20 years ago.
that can be my first affirmation, because it's definitely true.
I am healthier stronger and I cope much better with my life and my stress than I did 20 years ago (@ age 27)
I am proud of myself for my commitment to my own physical fitness, health and well being. Go me!
I am in love with moving my body in beautiful and pleasurable ways.
I am looking forward to growing older in strength, passion, and my hopes to help fix the world.
Liz is learning to balance generosity with self care and not be a fucking martyr.
Liz is no longer in love with or clinging to her own pain.
Liz is worth someone wanting to get to know her and share dreams together.
Liz is getting over her fear of trying new things that she nonetheless WANTS (yay ukelele! yay dating!)
Lizzie, you are kind and generous and you're learning to be gentle.
Lizzie, you are welcome in the world, there is space for you to contribute and be useful and loved.
Lizzie, you are big hearted and creative, with a million ideas and possible solutions.
Lizzie, you are continuing to forge your own path and it's gonna be hard, but you can definitely do this thing.
I have a community. I have a safe home. I have ... security. And that's all still hard to believe sometimes, since I know there are old riverbeds in which it's easy to let the waters run... but I've chosen a new watercourse, and I'm using what I have to try to make a difference, instead of dwelling and staying stuck in my old crapola. I'm strong enough. I'm flexible enough. I'm determined enough, and I'm creative enough.
I wrote a poem on May 4.
it looks better in the handwriting but here it is:
SELF LOVE
is a
RADICAL ACT
of
REBELLION
against
THE POWERS THAT BE
who want you and us to
FEEL HELPLESS
TRAPPED
POWERLESS
LONELY, UNLOVED
WORTHLESS STUCK
LOVING YOURSELF
FEELS GOOD and is
GOOD FOR YOU and can
LET YOU HEAL all your WOUNDS
Lara wants me to write lists of affirmations, and she said by using different ways to access the brain new things can come to light. so, first person, third person, second person.
I've done something similar before in exercises to access my subconscious mind. Feri calls that part of us, Fetch, also known as Child-self. Fetch is the part of ourselves that cannot be accessed by words or logic, it's nonverbal, responds to and communicates by way of sensory input and feelings: colors, smells, texture, I like, I don't like, crying, laughing.
anyway. that's kind of a digression, but not entirely so.
and welp, I don't really have any idea how to do affirmations. We were doing some short breathing meditations on Thursday and she was talking me through it and one thing she said was to "celebrate your successes" and my brain just... like a needle scratch across a 45 record. Like those words, they didn't parse.
1) Celebrate ME?
and
2) I don't even know what success IS. How can I grasp it long enough to celebrate it, and note 1).
*sour face*
I know that is entirely the wrong way to go about this assignment. I'm okay with being stuck for the moment.
Arbitrarily I'm picking TEN as how many genuine affirmations I have to come up with. I'm going to go look up the proper definition, and I'm going to promise myself to not be weasel worded with my list.
I want to be authentic, and to really give myself a frame.
I spend entirely too much time in my head, chewing over all the ways I'm certain I've fucked up, broken things, made irredeemable or unforgivable mistakes. I'm not even very good at faking that I think I'm all that.
The one thing I have going for me right now with regard to my mental health, is my vivid memories of how shitty the inside of my head used to be, before therapy, before beloved friends taught me about community and ritual, before I learned some new coping skills and strategies to get around my constant mental noise and chaos.
I do know that I'm LOTS better than I was 20 years ago.
that can be my first affirmation, because it's definitely true.
I am healthier stronger and I cope much better with my life and my stress than I did 20 years ago (@ age 27)
I am proud of myself for my commitment to my own physical fitness, health and well being. Go me!
I am in love with moving my body in beautiful and pleasurable ways.
I am looking forward to growing older in strength, passion, and my hopes to help fix the world.
Liz is learning to balance generosity with self care and not be a fucking martyr.
Liz is no longer in love with or clinging to her own pain.
Liz is worth someone wanting to get to know her and share dreams together.
Liz is getting over her fear of trying new things that she nonetheless WANTS (yay ukelele! yay dating!)
Lizzie, you are kind and generous and you're learning to be gentle.
Lizzie, you are welcome in the world, there is space for you to contribute and be useful and loved.
Lizzie, you are big hearted and creative, with a million ideas and possible solutions.
Lizzie, you are continuing to forge your own path and it's gonna be hard, but you can definitely do this thing.
I have a community. I have a safe home. I have ... security. And that's all still hard to believe sometimes, since I know there are old riverbeds in which it's easy to let the waters run... but I've chosen a new watercourse, and I'm using what I have to try to make a difference, instead of dwelling and staying stuck in my old crapola. I'm strong enough. I'm flexible enough. I'm determined enough, and I'm creative enough.
I wrote a poem on May 4.
it looks better in the handwriting but here it is:
SELF LOVE
is a
RADICAL ACT
of
REBELLION
against
THE POWERS THAT BE
who want you and us to
FEEL HELPLESS
TRAPPED
POWERLESS
LONELY, UNLOVED
WORTHLESS STUCK
LOVING YOURSELF
FEELS GOOD and is
GOOD FOR YOU and can
LET YOU HEAL all your WOUNDS
Tags:
Q: What prevents me from getting started?
Q: What are the obstacles and impediments?
Q: What are my goals?
I'm keeping myself accountable for this writing by way of a facebook post where I asked friends to say: write the thing! and give me a number between 1 and 9, labeling each writing prompt with a number in my ADHD journal.
Actually the goals part is the most difficult, so it's appropriate to use it for last.
shall I write about writing? or about this therapeutic process to address the impact of adhd in my life, now that I know something about that being a THING for me?
I think I'd prefer to write about the therapy process and unpack some ideas or thoughts or just basically ... well, hopefully do better than just word-vomit but I shan't make any promises tonight. I have 10 prompts I've culled from the group on monday and therapy with Lara yesterday.
Q1) What prevents me from getting started?
--- Interest. Now that nobody's making me do shit, now I'm not accountable to a boss, a schedule, a clientele (well not precisely) I mainly spend my days doing what I want with a few commitments per week, mostly self inflicted. There's stuff that I know I COULD be doing, even SHOULD be doing,
...and I don't. I don't do them.
I used to judge myself on that, but I don't. I used to tear myself up about that, but I don't. Thank god, I used to literally be my own worst enemy that way.
---Accountability. For reasons that I hope to be able to dig into later, accountability is huge in my motivational force. If I promise to someone I will do something, I will do it solely BECAUSE I SAID I WOULD and that seems to be sufficient. If someone asks me to do something, and it's pretty direct, like Jeff asks will I pull out that part of the garden full of aphids, and I say I will, that seems to be sufficient.
However. If I don't have some kind of outside accountability, I don't do things on any kind of coherent timeline. Which is maybe not always important, but like, it feels like it would be good to shower three times a week, but I can't always hit that. And sometimes that's the depression, but also that I don't get enough human f2f feedback to notice and then to feel embarrassed when I stink.
I've actually planned to chain the showering habit to the working out habit... but haven't been successful. I don't at the moment know how to force that.
Maybe I could find a depression/neurodivergent partner, who also has a not-daily habit they want to build, and we could encourage each other.
It seems that I am better about keeping other people on track than I am at keeping myself on track.
also I am better about staying on track if I have someone else helping me stay accountable.
The last writing prompt out of ten, is, why is it more effective to have Lara or anyone else, tell me what to do, than it is for ME to tell me what to do, in this accomplishing tasks.
1) The oldest part of my brain says because what I want doesn't matter. Because you're always supposed to put other people first, because you can't figure stuff out on your own. (interesting that I chose to use second-person there...hmmm) There's a LOT of old messages there, traceries of a former self. What my friend Chelsea recently called... something like spent seed pods, or carapaces, or used envelopes.
what I want DOES MATTER. I don't ALWAYS have to put other people first, I am ALLOWED to be first on my own priority list godsdammit! and I definitely CAN FIGURE STUFF OUT ON MY OWN but I do have old learned helplessness and my constant fight against distraction to get the stuff figured out, and then the steps sorted out, and then get the shit DONE.
2) when I was teaching about study skills (bear with me a moment, it will become relevant) I had the kids take a test which would help them figure out what their learning style was like. Howard Gardner had a theory of Multiple Intelligences, for which there are Varied tests, now available on the internet. (gosh that would have been much more easy and fun to do on the internet! but it was nearly fifteen years ago that I started that unit, & in an inner city school with limited computer resources.)
I suspect that I have a deep need for interpersonal learning. I'm only sometimes good at teaching myself new skills; I hunger for someone to see me and teach me. I love dance class and working with my trainer for that... but having a teacher teach me and walk me through the material, help me build skills? so much more satisfying than YouTubing my way through something new. (I bet Jeff has a strong intrapersonal learning drive. It would make so much sense.)
What are my goals?
That last item is going to require a new skills base, or a return to old skills (Flylady or Franklin-Covey 7 Habits territory), probably some new skills base. My needs are different now than when I first learned those, ages and ages ago. My mind is different.
Okay. that's enough for the first two prompts.
Thanks for listening, hopefully this isn't too much of a plate of scrambled spaghetti noodles for anyone but me to find benefit in.
Q: What are the obstacles and impediments?
Q: What are my goals?
I'm keeping myself accountable for this writing by way of a facebook post where I asked friends to say: write the thing! and give me a number between 1 and 9, labeling each writing prompt with a number in my ADHD journal.
Actually the goals part is the most difficult, so it's appropriate to use it for last.
shall I write about writing? or about this therapeutic process to address the impact of adhd in my life, now that I know something about that being a THING for me?
I think I'd prefer to write about the therapy process and unpack some ideas or thoughts or just basically ... well, hopefully do better than just word-vomit but I shan't make any promises tonight. I have 10 prompts I've culled from the group on monday and therapy with Lara yesterday.
Q1) What prevents me from getting started?
--- Interest. Now that nobody's making me do shit, now I'm not accountable to a boss, a schedule, a clientele (well not precisely) I mainly spend my days doing what I want with a few commitments per week, mostly self inflicted. There's stuff that I know I COULD be doing, even SHOULD be doing,
...and I don't. I don't do them.
I used to judge myself on that, but I don't. I used to tear myself up about that, but I don't. Thank god, I used to literally be my own worst enemy that way.
---Accountability. For reasons that I hope to be able to dig into later, accountability is huge in my motivational force. If I promise to someone I will do something, I will do it solely BECAUSE I SAID I WOULD and that seems to be sufficient. If someone asks me to do something, and it's pretty direct, like Jeff asks will I pull out that part of the garden full of aphids, and I say I will, that seems to be sufficient.
However. If I don't have some kind of outside accountability, I don't do things on any kind of coherent timeline. Which is maybe not always important, but like, it feels like it would be good to shower three times a week, but I can't always hit that. And sometimes that's the depression, but also that I don't get enough human f2f feedback to notice and then to feel embarrassed when I stink.
I've actually planned to chain the showering habit to the working out habit... but haven't been successful. I don't at the moment know how to force that.
Maybe I could find a depression/neurodivergent partner, who also has a not-daily habit they want to build, and we could encourage each other.
It seems that I am better about keeping other people on track than I am at keeping myself on track.
also I am better about staying on track if I have someone else helping me stay accountable.
The last writing prompt out of ten, is, why is it more effective to have Lara or anyone else, tell me what to do, than it is for ME to tell me what to do, in this accomplishing tasks.
1) The oldest part of my brain says because what I want doesn't matter. Because you're always supposed to put other people first, because you can't figure stuff out on your own. (interesting that I chose to use second-person there...hmmm) There's a LOT of old messages there, traceries of a former self. What my friend Chelsea recently called... something like spent seed pods, or carapaces, or used envelopes.
what I want DOES MATTER. I don't ALWAYS have to put other people first, I am ALLOWED to be first on my own priority list godsdammit! and I definitely CAN FIGURE STUFF OUT ON MY OWN but I do have old learned helplessness and my constant fight against distraction to get the stuff figured out, and then the steps sorted out, and then get the shit DONE.
2) when I was teaching about study skills (bear with me a moment, it will become relevant) I had the kids take a test which would help them figure out what their learning style was like. Howard Gardner had a theory of Multiple Intelligences, for which there are Varied tests, now available on the internet. (gosh that would have been much more easy and fun to do on the internet! but it was nearly fifteen years ago that I started that unit, & in an inner city school with limited computer resources.)
I suspect that I have a deep need for interpersonal learning. I'm only sometimes good at teaching myself new skills; I hunger for someone to see me and teach me. I love dance class and working with my trainer for that... but having a teacher teach me and walk me through the material, help me build skills? so much more satisfying than YouTubing my way through something new. (I bet Jeff has a strong intrapersonal learning drive. It would make so much sense.)
What are my goals?
- I want to feel productive, truly productive, every day.
- I want to help other people every day. (I can be the person helped, it's allowed. *smile*)
- I want to feel like my mind and my time are under my guidance and control.
That last item is going to require a new skills base, or a return to old skills (Flylady or Franklin-Covey 7 Habits territory), probably some new skills base. My needs are different now than when I first learned those, ages and ages ago. My mind is different.
Okay. that's enough for the first two prompts.
Thanks for listening, hopefully this isn't too much of a plate of scrambled spaghetti noodles for anyone but me to find benefit in.
Tags:
- add/adhd,
- because i said i would,
- building strength,
- but you have to work at it,
- clear the decks,
- coping techniques,
- distracted girl is distracted,
- face the fear and do it anyway,
- fail more fail bigger,
- gdi brain,
- goals,
- how to eat an elephant,
- i need,
- i want,
- keep it simple sweetheart,
- list,
- lists,
- meta,
- micromovements,
- miss communication,
- motivation,
- navel-gazing,
- patience,
- progress not perfection,
- quit shoulding all over yourself,
- salmon of wisdom,
- shutupandwrite,
- shutupbrainweasels,
- state of the liz,
- ten things,
- therapy is also useful,
- thoughts become things,
- work,
- writing,
- writing is better than therapy
I'm supposed to have a list of goals for the therapeutic process. I did write some of them down, and I'll add them either here or in my bullet journal once I have my head in order.
I was thinking earlier today about jobs I've held, and my favorite job. And why it was my favorite job, and I wanted to break it down a little, in hopes of reproducing the conditions someday. In part or in whole.
this is the job I held for eight years and a bit.
it's the reason why every smartphone I've ever owned had "librarianing" added to the spellchecker.
=)
I used to be a junior high school librarian.
I just wanna list the things that I loved about that job, because there's a lot of things I loved about it.
I was thinking earlier today about jobs I've held, and my favorite job. And why it was my favorite job, and I wanted to break it down a little, in hopes of reproducing the conditions someday. In part or in whole.
this is the job I held for eight years and a bit.
it's the reason why every smartphone I've ever owned had "librarianing" added to the spellchecker.
=)
I used to be a junior high school librarian.
I just wanna list the things that I loved about that job, because there's a lot of things I loved about it.
- It had a regular daily schedule with rhythmic breaks in it.
- ...but I got to choose my daily tasks, and when to do them.
- High responsibility, low supervision, I got to determine when something was done.
- some built in regular deadlines occurred weekly (overdue notices compiled and sent out)
- some deadlines quarterly (grades for Library TA's), or at other calendar dates (budget deadlines, book ordering, etc)
- Lots of time with people, specific agenda of helping people (students and staff both)
- lots of time alone to do one on one tasks (repair, budget work, tidying)
- Teaching. computers, dewey decimal, how to process books for circulation, some basic book repair, how to circulate books, how to pull records for books that were overdue, how to research, how to use the card catalog, how to find books you wanted... so many teaching opportunities, all in small groups, and NO GRADING.
- I could take pee breaks as needed. That's a fucking luxurious situation to consider after teaching full time in a public school. I swear to god you can't get five minutes to pee, because it takes you 3-5 minutes to just walk to the other end of the school where the faculty bathroom is, and god help you if you're on your period or have to poop. it's *exhale* inhumane. actually.
- Professional development funding.
- Networking with the other librarians in the school district on a monthly basis.
- Training to be a union site rep and shop steward, learning the history of unions in the USA
- generally speaking, high interest high novelty work, high number of positive social contacts with students and staff. Decent respect from peers and students. Increasing responsibility the longer I was in the position.
There's more of course. Some damn wonderful people really made the difference for me in that job. They got me through the first six months after my dad died, with challenging, interesting work, taking care of tweenagers, teaching and helping and finding and fixing, sorting and throwing out and organizing and tidying. Always something that needed doing. Always something that MATTERED that needed doing.
It's still MY library. In my heart it's still mine.
I miss it. Actually.
so I mean I want another job with some more of what that job had, without the soul deadening paperwork and jumping through hoops that teaching in the public school required.
And really I want more of that in my life. I've been trying to find that, build that myself, but it's just been so crazy challenging on my own. I miss the community, the sense of rightness and purpose, the ability to HELP SO MUCH AND SO OFTEN SO MANY PEOPLE. I was proud of my work there. It was crazy and sometimes boring and wonderful and the kids were always so amazing and my co workers were always weird, wonderful, dedicated, amazing.
Okay.
Okay.
I have more on this but this is a good starting place.
I'll go make myself some dinner and dig into my homework reading pretty hard once I've eaten, take some notes to be ready for tomorrow.
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Smoke Signals, from a prompt on @NaNoWordSprints (started 7/5/15, completed 7/9/2015)
Her efforts were all in vain. It was stupid of her to believe she could remember those ridiculous long ago lessons in woodcraft and firemaking. Despair struck Darla hard in the chest for a moment. She might not freeze to death, if she were careful, but she needed fire for light and to scare off predators larger than the mosquitoes and black flies that had been biting and pinching her for what felt like hours and hours.
How did she get separated from the rest of the women on the rafting trip? She let her hand drift to the welt at the back of her head that the black flies had been tormenting. Quite a knot there. She recognized her own disorientation, dizziness, and difficulty with balance as likely symptoms of concussion. Thank god she still had her canteen and her “batman utility belt” as her lover teased her. She had a good small knife, water purification tablets, and a weekend-plus-one’s dose of her medicines in a tiny orange waterproof matchholder, all firmly attached at her waist. If only Darla weren’t so beholden to “better living through modern chemistry, she’d still have MATCHES in the matchholder instead.
“You’re going on a rafting trip with a professional guide and half a dozen other forty-something women,” she mumbled out loud to herself, “YOU won’t need matches, the guide will be prepared!”
She took a short drink from the canteen.
“No, much better to use the waterproof container for your meds, it would make you miserable and risk your life if you got THOSE wet or worse, you’d inconvenience everyone else needing to get a helicopter lift out from the campground!”
She groaned and leaned away from the tree she’d propped herself against to slump forward, elbows on her knees and hands supporting her head. Darla hissed as her uncautious fingers poked the large, sluggishly bleeding lump behind her right ear. It was very tender, as she already knew from allowing her giant head to thump back against the tree trunk earlier. She hoped it was just a bad bruise and a bit of a cut, actually cracking her skull seemed a bit much even for a klutz like herself.
( Read more... )
Her efforts were all in vain. It was stupid of her to believe she could remember those ridiculous long ago lessons in woodcraft and firemaking. Despair struck Darla hard in the chest for a moment. She might not freeze to death, if she were careful, but she needed fire for light and to scare off predators larger than the mosquitoes and black flies that had been biting and pinching her for what felt like hours and hours.
How did she get separated from the rest of the women on the rafting trip? She let her hand drift to the welt at the back of her head that the black flies had been tormenting. Quite a knot there. She recognized her own disorientation, dizziness, and difficulty with balance as likely symptoms of concussion. Thank god she still had her canteen and her “batman utility belt” as her lover teased her. She had a good small knife, water purification tablets, and a weekend-plus-one’s dose of her medicines in a tiny orange waterproof matchholder, all firmly attached at her waist. If only Darla weren’t so beholden to “better living through modern chemistry, she’d still have MATCHES in the matchholder instead.
“You’re going on a rafting trip with a professional guide and half a dozen other forty-something women,” she mumbled out loud to herself, “YOU won’t need matches, the guide will be prepared!”
She took a short drink from the canteen.
“No, much better to use the waterproof container for your meds, it would make you miserable and risk your life if you got THOSE wet or worse, you’d inconvenience everyone else needing to get a helicopter lift out from the campground!”
She groaned and leaned away from the tree she’d propped herself against to slump forward, elbows on her knees and hands supporting her head. Darla hissed as her uncautious fingers poked the large, sluggishly bleeding lump behind her right ear. It was very tender, as she already knew from allowing her giant head to thump back against the tree trunk earlier. She hoped it was just a bad bruise and a bit of a cut, actually cracking her skull seemed a bit much even for a klutz like herself.
( Read more... )
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