And so far so good. My pain levels are down, but still there. What was "HOLY SHIT AMAZING" was me NOT being crippled for days after tromping up and down the hills of Bisbee during Pride weekend. So I think that definitely says AZ is good for me.
I'm still finding my footing here in other respects. I am staying with friends who are awesome and both understand and respect my issues and decisions.
There were a lot of "and"s in that sentence.
I'm feeling a bit awkward though, because they're being really generous with their space and food and stuff and I...feel uncomfortable that I don't have a job to contribute. Which is why, broke as I am, I am paying for pizza for me and Tom tonight. Even though pizza inevitably disagrees with me. I feel uncomfortable with letting go of cash for a frivolous reason, but I feel more uncomfortable with being a leech, and...*flails* Overall, the situation right now is REALLY good for me, but I can't help the crazysauce in my head whispering doubts, uncertainties, possible future disasters, and insecurities. I also can't help the extreme anxiety over money. I've gotten to the point where I have a smidge over half of the financial aid I need for university. I have very little wiggle room when it comes to money. Like... VERY little. There's shit all I can do about any of that, so I feel adrift at the same time that I feel I have made serious positive changes in my life.
So, basically, I am in a really really good place right now, but my CRAZY thinks everything is a disaster waiting to explode. Which is frustrating as fuck. What's also frustrating is the fact that my crazy is coming up with somewhat plausible scenarios for disaster. It's like...it's like, when it's teh zombie shit my brain is hitting me with, it can be crippling but overall it's so over the top and ridiculous that it's easier to deal with. Whereas anything "real world"ish my brain comes up with...my crazy just latches onto to it and it's incredibly hard to get it to let go.
Not to say I'm not "aja!aja! fighting!" for all I'm worth, it's just...a pain in the ass.
Subtitle
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Friday, June 7, 2013
When cancer wins...and when it doesn't.
Awhile back I wrote a post about "FUCK CANCER" in regards to an amazing lady I knew. Earlier this week I found out that she died last Saturday. It was a long battle, it was a hard battle, and I feel so bad for her family. I grieved in my anger when I made that fuck cancer post. I still get teary eyed when I think of her death, but it isn't the shattering grief I had before. Before it was just so hard to accept that someone like her, a FIGHTER, could lose her battle. I accepted that she was going to die, and that I was unlikely to be able to see her before it happened due to my financial situation. Oh but I wish I could have gone to see her. But...it would have taken money away from moving. I literally have JUST enough. Even ten dollars less and I'd be screwed. I knew she'd rather I saved the money for its purpose, so I did. But it hurts that I didn't get to hug her one last time.
That's not what's hurting my heart the most though. I keep thinking about her family. Her two older kids? Their bio-dad is an ass and they had such a great relationship with their mother. How could they not? She was awesome. Her younger boy with her second husband (the one she was married to for ten years before getting all the paperwork squared away for her church wedding) is so young and vibrant and...he's just a great kid. He has to be hurting so bad now. But her husband is honestly the one I'm hurting the most for. I didn't know him that well, but I know that he has a great sense of humour, is a loving father to all the children, is generous, and positively adored Connie. And I also know that when they married he was a widower. I'm so glad that he's the man he is, because I don't know how he and his family would survive otherwise.
So why the title of this post? Because not too long before Connie died, good news was heard from another source. I'm really hoping that Connie was told about it before she passed, because I think it would have made her happy. Another dear coworker from the same place I knew Connie, well, she's had a tough life. Shortly before I left that area it was discovered that her son had a brain tumour, and it was right on the ocular nerve. This has been something that she's been dealing with for the past two years (with lots of drama involving her ex). Well, her son celebrated his last day of chemo last month. So this four year old has had his vision saved and the growth of a tumour halted by some truly fantastic doctors and nurses. I'm so glad, he's such a funny (and adorable kid).
So sometimes cancer wins, and sometimes it gets its ass kicked.
That's not what's hurting my heart the most though. I keep thinking about her family. Her two older kids? Their bio-dad is an ass and they had such a great relationship with their mother. How could they not? She was awesome. Her younger boy with her second husband (the one she was married to for ten years before getting all the paperwork squared away for her church wedding) is so young and vibrant and...he's just a great kid. He has to be hurting so bad now. But her husband is honestly the one I'm hurting the most for. I didn't know him that well, but I know that he has a great sense of humour, is a loving father to all the children, is generous, and positively adored Connie. And I also know that when they married he was a widower. I'm so glad that he's the man he is, because I don't know how he and his family would survive otherwise.
So why the title of this post? Because not too long before Connie died, good news was heard from another source. I'm really hoping that Connie was told about it before she passed, because I think it would have made her happy. Another dear coworker from the same place I knew Connie, well, she's had a tough life. Shortly before I left that area it was discovered that her son had a brain tumour, and it was right on the ocular nerve. This has been something that she's been dealing with for the past two years (with lots of drama involving her ex). Well, her son celebrated his last day of chemo last month. So this four year old has had his vision saved and the growth of a tumour halted by some truly fantastic doctors and nurses. I'm so glad, he's such a funny (and adorable kid).
So sometimes cancer wins, and sometimes it gets its ass kicked.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
O, Complications...
How I do loathe thee.
Thou doth enter my life and
Shazam!
The ease with which I formerly navigated
Vanishes with a wave of thy capricious hand!
Not that that drabble has any sort of rhyme or meter or what have you, but it made me giggle to write it.
So...yeah. Remember the person with which I would dearly love to have a higher degree of intimacy with? Well, they have thus far proved that the trust was not misplaced. Respect is sexy. Which is why life is even MORE frustrating than before!
Here's the rundown: Went over to said friend's for a movie/cuddle night. We watched movies from 4pm til 1 am. Much cuddling was had. In the middle of our movies he made a frustrated comment that I cannot relate in its entirety but was along the lines of "You would probably be my girlfriend right now if it weren't for the chaos of life". All I could respond with was "I concur". So yeah. We ended up cuddling all night in his bed where he respected all boundaries (though twitching fingers told me it was not without using a good bit of self-control). It's a good thing that I'm moving, because if I were staying I would not be able to hold to my decision of "Celibacy and no dating until I get through some therapy for all my shit" if he were to ask me out.
I will freely admit that the above paragraph was copy and pasted from another conversation elsewhere, because going over things makes me want to headdesk to the extreme. Because... He's respecting my boundaries, and ,while he doesn't know specifics, he is respecting my choices too. Which makes those boundaries and choices, however wise and important I feel them to be, incredibly frustrating. And annoying. And aggravating.
I don't know how I would deal with sexual intimacy with him, because I can never predict what my wonky libido will do. I do know that being with him makes my heart warm. I don't just mean being around him makes me happy, I mean that it literally feels like this glorious, sun-drenched warmth in my chest cavity when I'm with him. And you know that funny, but good, feeling you get in your stomach when you're at the perfect level of intoxication? When you've had just enough alcohol to feel good, but aren't into the "oh shit" territory of drunkenness? Yeah, thinking about him makes me feel that way. He's the best cuddler I know, and we fit perfectly. He makes me feel that who I am is okay, more than okay, desirable. He thinks I'm beautiful, and I think he's one of the most wonderful people I know. I don't know if handsome is the right word, but I like his face. Seeing his face makes me happy, and talking to him makes me happier. It doesn't take much to picture my future with him in it (which was a struggle with my ex (which probably should have clued me in)).
I'm falling for him in the worst (or best) way. I'm not sure why it took so long (I met him about 5 years ago), but I have some theories. By the time we became friends (as opposed to acquaintances who found each other nifty) he was firmly in the 'unavailable' box, because his then wife had asked him to close the relationship. I respect boundaries. Then when he was out of the 'unavailable' box, I was trying to save a failing marriage (even if I didn't realise it) and he was too far away geographically. He respects boundaries. Right now we're both technically in the 'available' box for the first time in our friendship and it's like my heart went "Ding!". Unfortunately it went "Ding!" without consulting the common sense that decided that it's not fair to a potential partner for me to have these undealt with (and volatile) "issues". Add in the fact that I'm moving some 1500 miles away from him and you'll understand why I'm letting out a big ol' "FUCK YOU" to the Universe, Life, and Everything.
Thou doth enter my life and
Shazam!
The ease with which I formerly navigated
Vanishes with a wave of thy capricious hand!
Not that that drabble has any sort of rhyme or meter or what have you, but it made me giggle to write it.
So...yeah. Remember the person with which I would dearly love to have a higher degree of intimacy with? Well, they have thus far proved that the trust was not misplaced. Respect is sexy. Which is why life is even MORE frustrating than before!
Here's the rundown: Went over to said friend's for a movie/cuddle night. We watched movies from 4pm til 1 am. Much cuddling was had. In the middle of our movies he made a frustrated comment that I cannot relate in its entirety but was along the lines of "You would probably be my girlfriend right now if it weren't for the chaos of life". All I could respond with was "I concur". So yeah. We ended up cuddling all night in his bed where he respected all boundaries (though twitching fingers told me it was not without using a good bit of self-control). It's a good thing that I'm moving, because if I were staying I would not be able to hold to my decision of "Celibacy and no dating until I get through some therapy for all my shit" if he were to ask me out.
I will freely admit that the above paragraph was copy and pasted from another conversation elsewhere, because going over things makes me want to headdesk to the extreme. Because... He's respecting my boundaries, and ,while he doesn't know specifics, he is respecting my choices too. Which makes those boundaries and choices, however wise and important I feel them to be, incredibly frustrating. And annoying. And aggravating.
I don't know how I would deal with sexual intimacy with him, because I can never predict what my wonky libido will do. I do know that being with him makes my heart warm. I don't just mean being around him makes me happy, I mean that it literally feels like this glorious, sun-drenched warmth in my chest cavity when I'm with him. And you know that funny, but good, feeling you get in your stomach when you're at the perfect level of intoxication? When you've had just enough alcohol to feel good, but aren't into the "oh shit" territory of drunkenness? Yeah, thinking about him makes me feel that way. He's the best cuddler I know, and we fit perfectly. He makes me feel that who I am is okay, more than okay, desirable. He thinks I'm beautiful, and I think he's one of the most wonderful people I know. I don't know if handsome is the right word, but I like his face. Seeing his face makes me happy, and talking to him makes me happier. It doesn't take much to picture my future with him in it (which was a struggle with my ex (which probably should have clued me in)).
I'm falling for him in the worst (or best) way. I'm not sure why it took so long (I met him about 5 years ago), but I have some theories. By the time we became friends (as opposed to acquaintances who found each other nifty) he was firmly in the 'unavailable' box, because his then wife had asked him to close the relationship. I respect boundaries. Then when he was out of the 'unavailable' box, I was trying to save a failing marriage (even if I didn't realise it) and he was too far away geographically. He respects boundaries. Right now we're both technically in the 'available' box for the first time in our friendship and it's like my heart went "Ding!". Unfortunately it went "Ding!" without consulting the common sense that decided that it's not fair to a potential partner for me to have these undealt with (and volatile) "issues". Add in the fact that I'm moving some 1500 miles away from him and you'll understand why I'm letting out a big ol' "FUCK YOU" to the Universe, Life, and Everything.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Bittersweet
I was inducted into the Phi Theta Kappa honour society tonight and it's bittersweet for a couple reasons. One is because I've felt like I've struggled every quarter, and this shows that all my hard work and stress was worth it. the second....
I'm alone. I'm sitting at a table all alone and I only know one person in the entire room.
I'm alone. I'm sitting at a table all alone and I only know one person in the entire room.
Friday, May 17, 2013
coping and planning and moving and...
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
Well, I mean I don't have a god of fucking, and I'm not sure how God as an incorporeal entity *could* fuck.
But I digress.
I'm walking the knife's edge lately. There's so much to do in such a short period of time and all of it involves change. Change is scary. Good, but scary. I'm looking at less than a month before making an incredibly HUGE life change. Seriously, I've never lived outside the Pacific Northwest. I just have no real concept of what this is going to be like. And it's a really important change because it's going to give me the chance to acquire the skills and training required for my dreams.
But it's so stressful. The stress is effecting and affecting everything. I say both effect and affect because my brain is so fried and drained that I can't remember which is proper to use in this instance.
While I've had reassurance from my teachers that I *WILL* be passing my classes (and thus getting my associate's degree), I can't help stressing. And I've also got a move to plan. And financial aid for out-of-state university tuition to worry about. And feelings. And people. And changes. I sometimes can't focus for more than a minute at a time, except for my trashy romances. And even the trashy romances have trouble holding my attention. Even writing this post has taken way longer than it should because I can't just stay in this window and right. I've checked three social networking sites and followed links from all of them, all while "writing" this.
I'm a mess. Such a mess.
Well, I mean I don't have a god of fucking, and I'm not sure how God as an incorporeal entity *could* fuck.
But I digress.
I'm walking the knife's edge lately. There's so much to do in such a short period of time and all of it involves change. Change is scary. Good, but scary. I'm looking at less than a month before making an incredibly HUGE life change. Seriously, I've never lived outside the Pacific Northwest. I just have no real concept of what this is going to be like. And it's a really important change because it's going to give me the chance to acquire the skills and training required for my dreams.
But it's so stressful. The stress is effecting and affecting everything. I say both effect and affect because my brain is so fried and drained that I can't remember which is proper to use in this instance.
While I've had reassurance from my teachers that I *WILL* be passing my classes (and thus getting my associate's degree), I can't help stressing. And I've also got a move to plan. And financial aid for out-of-state university tuition to worry about. And feelings. And people. And changes. I sometimes can't focus for more than a minute at a time, except for my trashy romances. And even the trashy romances have trouble holding my attention. Even writing this post has taken way longer than it should because I can't just stay in this window and right. I've checked three social networking sites and followed links from all of them, all while "writing" this.
I'm a mess. Such a mess.
Friday, May 3, 2013
Well meaning friends and not-so-surprising revelations
A sweet and well-meaning friend who knows of my past took the time not too long ago to inform me that Washington State has removed the spousal exemption from rape in third degree. Another friend (who doesn't know) shared a pertinent article. I'm just...
I appreciate that my well-meaning friend was wanting to share progress in something that has very directly affected me. I do. But at the same time...Just because I've shared something like that with you doesn't mean I want to talk about it. I probably *should* talk about it, but I really really really don't want to. I'm exhausted, I have so much to do currently. I canNOT deal with the emotional fallout of dealing with this shit. I really can't. I know I have to. I do understand that. But I don't want to.
It's been great lately. Physically I've been kind of crap, and my brain has fluctuated the levels of crazysauce periodically, but I have not ended up in crazytown for awhile. I've been really happy. But... I don't know. I think I'm getting some not-so-subtle hints from God that I really need to deal with this shit. Yes, I said from God. I sometimes flippantly say the universe is trying to tell me something, but this is different. I'm being nudged quite strongly. And I know he's right.
Side note: I do not believe God has a gender, I've just been culturally conditioned to use the male pronoun. I acknowledge this. Moving on.
There are some really wonderful people in my life who I could be pursuing "something" with if I weren't so petrified. Because I finally realized that I am. Petrified that is. I'm scared of intimacy. I'm scared that I'll be okay with it up to a certain point then panic and call a screeching halt to it. Based on past experience (yes, with my ex, yes,I realize the fucked upedness of it), I expect that the response will be far from pleasant. Recriminations, guilt, names, and...I don't know. I know that wonderful people won't do that, but my judgement has been bad before. I've trusted the wrong people and had boundaries breached that were never open for negotiation.
I can be kind of casual with my breasts. A grope isn't a big deal to me, as long as I know the person and permission has been granted. A grope is different than fondling though. Groping my breast is also far different than trying to slide one's hands up my inner thigh to FORBIDDEN TERRITORY when I am in such a sleep-deprived state that I am basically intoxicated. Yes, this is a specific instance and yes it was someone I thought knew me and respected my boundaries. No, I have never confronted this person. Yes, I cut them out of my life.
I have someone in my life that I would love to trust more. I'd love to loosen my boundaries somewhat. Not necessarily to the point of intercourse, but I would like to have a slightly higher level of intimacy with them. But I can't. Because I am scared that either I am wrong in my judgement of them, or that I will panic and fuck up a solid friendship. I don't think this person even knows that I feel this way, because apparently I'm actually pretty good at hiding this particular type of thing. I think it's because my boundaries are so different than other people's. In any case, I've been kind of grateful for my busyness lately, because it's allowed me a legitimate excuse to avoid the subject.
I'm kind of ashamed of my cowardice, but I know if someone else came to me in this same situation I wouldn't judge them a coward. I'd tell them they were rightfully cautious and help them talk it through. But I feel like a coward. And I don't want to talk things through and figure things out because I'm going to be leaving soon.
I have plans to get counseling whilst at university, so long as I can get student insurance figured out. But that doesn't help me now. And my emotions are all up in a heaval now. And I hate that a friend's kindly wish to inform me of the spousal rape stuff is what cued this in my brain. Because I don't want to associate wonderful with bad. And it confuses the issue. And...
I just want someone to cuddle and hold me and let me ramble and rant and maybe cry. I just want to heal.
I appreciate that my well-meaning friend was wanting to share progress in something that has very directly affected me. I do. But at the same time...Just because I've shared something like that with you doesn't mean I want to talk about it. I probably *should* talk about it, but I really really really don't want to. I'm exhausted, I have so much to do currently. I canNOT deal with the emotional fallout of dealing with this shit. I really can't. I know I have to. I do understand that. But I don't want to.
It's been great lately. Physically I've been kind of crap, and my brain has fluctuated the levels of crazysauce periodically, but I have not ended up in crazytown for awhile. I've been really happy. But... I don't know. I think I'm getting some not-so-subtle hints from God that I really need to deal with this shit. Yes, I said from God. I sometimes flippantly say the universe is trying to tell me something, but this is different. I'm being nudged quite strongly. And I know he's right.
Side note: I do not believe God has a gender, I've just been culturally conditioned to use the male pronoun. I acknowledge this. Moving on.
There are some really wonderful people in my life who I could be pursuing "something" with if I weren't so petrified. Because I finally realized that I am. Petrified that is. I'm scared of intimacy. I'm scared that I'll be okay with it up to a certain point then panic and call a screeching halt to it. Based on past experience (yes, with my ex, yes,I realize the fucked upedness of it), I expect that the response will be far from pleasant. Recriminations, guilt, names, and...I don't know. I know that wonderful people won't do that, but my judgement has been bad before. I've trusted the wrong people and had boundaries breached that were never open for negotiation.
I can be kind of casual with my breasts. A grope isn't a big deal to me, as long as I know the person and permission has been granted. A grope is different than fondling though. Groping my breast is also far different than trying to slide one's hands up my inner thigh to FORBIDDEN TERRITORY when I am in such a sleep-deprived state that I am basically intoxicated. Yes, this is a specific instance and yes it was someone I thought knew me and respected my boundaries. No, I have never confronted this person. Yes, I cut them out of my life.
I have someone in my life that I would love to trust more. I'd love to loosen my boundaries somewhat. Not necessarily to the point of intercourse, but I would like to have a slightly higher level of intimacy with them. But I can't. Because I am scared that either I am wrong in my judgement of them, or that I will panic and fuck up a solid friendship. I don't think this person even knows that I feel this way, because apparently I'm actually pretty good at hiding this particular type of thing. I think it's because my boundaries are so different than other people's. In any case, I've been kind of grateful for my busyness lately, because it's allowed me a legitimate excuse to avoid the subject.
I'm kind of ashamed of my cowardice, but I know if someone else came to me in this same situation I wouldn't judge them a coward. I'd tell them they were rightfully cautious and help them talk it through. But I feel like a coward. And I don't want to talk things through and figure things out because I'm going to be leaving soon.
I have plans to get counseling whilst at university, so long as I can get student insurance figured out. But that doesn't help me now. And my emotions are all up in a heaval now. And I hate that a friend's kindly wish to inform me of the spousal rape stuff is what cued this in my brain. Because I don't want to associate wonderful with bad. And it confuses the issue. And...
I just want someone to cuddle and hold me and let me ramble and rant and maybe cry. I just want to heal.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Security Blankets
I'm supposed to be finishing up an English paper and a take home test for Pre-Calc, but that's just not happening right now. Soooo...I figured I should get something out of my head that's been percolating and marinating for a few days now.
Is my obesity a security blanket? I'm not sure what quite cued this in my head, but...Is it? I was thinking the other day, and while I'm really hoping to get healthier when I get down to AZ...I'm not sure I'm all that enthused about losing weight. On the other hand, no matter how much I try to downplay it the fact is that being overweight makes me feel hideous. So I guess the question is...do I *WANT* to be hideous? Is that one of the reasons I haven't lost the weight?
But when I look at it from another angle I wonder something else ENTIRELY. Yes, being fat makes me feel hideous...but it wasn't until I tipped over into the "obese" category (from the merely "overweight" one) that I started getting hit on. I wasn't treated as sexually desirable until I got fat, or, at least, not blatantly so. Perhaps there were those who thought I was attractive when I was skinny, but they never said anything. So am I fat because of vanity?
I don't quite understand this weird ambivalence about weight loss in my head. Because it's like a teeter-totter "Feel ugly, want to lose weight. Don't want to lose weight, it makes me nervous. Lose weight, people think I'm a loser. Don't lose weight,...for what reason?" I just don't understand myself.
I wondered if I gained some of the weight because of the rape. Was I gaining weight to try and make the husband I was still "in love" with back off? I just don't know. I really really don't know.
There's a third hand too, and that third hand has a lot to do with my temper. Am I staying fat to spite the people who have a problem with my weight? Am I staying fat to punish my mother for all of her well-intentioned and hurtful advice and comments over the years? Am I just digging my heels in because GODDAMNIT I shouldn't have to change to make you happy? Do I want those bitches who make snarky comments about me and my eating habits (snarky and inaccurate) to have to have my fat ass inflicted on their poor skinny-ass psyches? I don't fucking know.
It's times like these where I really feel the need for health insurance and a mental health professional. I mean, I do a LOT for myself. But I don't know if I can psychoanalyze myself out of this one. I want to be healthy, I want to be fit. I'm tired of being tired, and I thinking losing weight would help that. I don't know if I'm keeping the weight on out of stubbornness, fear, or vanity. I don't think I can get as healthy as I want if I can't figure this out. Which is frustrating. SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING.
Is my obesity a security blanket? I'm not sure what quite cued this in my head, but...Is it? I was thinking the other day, and while I'm really hoping to get healthier when I get down to AZ...I'm not sure I'm all that enthused about losing weight. On the other hand, no matter how much I try to downplay it the fact is that being overweight makes me feel hideous. So I guess the question is...do I *WANT* to be hideous? Is that one of the reasons I haven't lost the weight?
But when I look at it from another angle I wonder something else ENTIRELY. Yes, being fat makes me feel hideous...but it wasn't until I tipped over into the "obese" category (from the merely "overweight" one) that I started getting hit on. I wasn't treated as sexually desirable until I got fat, or, at least, not blatantly so. Perhaps there were those who thought I was attractive when I was skinny, but they never said anything. So am I fat because of vanity?
I don't quite understand this weird ambivalence about weight loss in my head. Because it's like a teeter-totter "Feel ugly, want to lose weight. Don't want to lose weight, it makes me nervous. Lose weight, people think I'm a loser. Don't lose weight,...for what reason?" I just don't understand myself.
I wondered if I gained some of the weight because of the rape. Was I gaining weight to try and make the husband I was still "in love" with back off? I just don't know. I really really don't know.
There's a third hand too, and that third hand has a lot to do with my temper. Am I staying fat to spite the people who have a problem with my weight? Am I staying fat to punish my mother for all of her well-intentioned and hurtful advice and comments over the years? Am I just digging my heels in because GODDAMNIT I shouldn't have to change to make you happy? Do I want those bitches who make snarky comments about me and my eating habits (snarky and inaccurate) to have to have my fat ass inflicted on their poor skinny-ass psyches? I don't fucking know.
It's times like these where I really feel the need for health insurance and a mental health professional. I mean, I do a LOT for myself. But I don't know if I can psychoanalyze myself out of this one. I want to be healthy, I want to be fit. I'm tired of being tired, and I thinking losing weight would help that. I don't know if I'm keeping the weight on out of stubbornness, fear, or vanity. I don't think I can get as healthy as I want if I can't figure this out. Which is frustrating. SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING.
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