Living in the dark

I haven't updated in forever, mostly just...trying not to be super negative and thus ignoring a lot of my problems. I've moved into my new place now, away from the roommates. So that's one less stressor, however...I was already on my way to the depths when that happened a few weeks ago, so...It helped, but I'm still there.
Sometimes all the coping mechanisms in the world, all the positive thinking, all the attained goals, everything that can be used to stave off that inevitable darkness, just doesn't work. So I found myself there again, and it...wasn't great. My new job is incompatible with my crazy so far, apparently. It sets everything off and right now I have no idea how I'm going to be able to attend school and work and succeed at both. Yeah, it's that bad. Personal hygiene? Holding by tmyhe skin of my teeth, but still struggling. Keeping my house clean? Well...it's better than it was in similar situations in the past, but I wouldn't want anybody over. It got bad.
I have this thing about bugs and always have. I think they're really cool...as long as they're outside and nowhere near me. I've had waking nightmares (bordering on hallucinations) about bugs ever since I was kid. This was reinforced by living in a few places with bug issues. Now I live in an area with big bugs. And one was in my house. Based on stuff I looked up online, the bug I killed was an American Roach. I went off the deep end a little, though my friends talked me down online. Best brother ever. I was seeing and feeling bugs that weren't there. When I'd look closer I'd know they weren't there, wouldn't see anything, but the smallest piece of lint could explode in my mind's eye into...an infestation of bed bugs.
Sometimes bearing the weight of it all is the hardest thing on earth. I am so afraid of not being able to follow my dreams. I spent so long not even admitting I *had* dreams. Then I dismissed them as impractical, and went after something doable that at least wouldn't make me miserable. Finally I pursued them and discovered...I can have them. I am not a person whose dreams outstrip their abilities. But...having to battle back the dreck of my insanities every day so that I can have a paycheck that just barely covers my needs at this point...it's exhausting and disheartening.
But I keep on keeping on, as they say. I don't know what else to do. I'm holed up in my apartment most of the time. I'm starting to emerge in my head a bit, but interacting with other human beings face to face is an issue. Times like these I really wish I could win the lottery (lottery tickets are one of my coping mechanisms, actually. It tricks my crazy into thinking I can quit my job and thus gives me less grief about it) and just...get healthy. Go to doctors between now and fall semester, get dental work done (I have wisdom teeth rotting in my skull), physical therapy, regular therapy, and just...yeah. Have the time, money, and leisure to just get myself in a better place.
In the meantime I just soldier on, with my wonderful cheerleaders reminding me that I can, indeed, do it. The friends who say "AJA AJA FIGHTING" in spite of never watching the kdramas I got the phrase from. The friends who know to say "HWAITING" who have recommended more dramas to me. The friends who let me go silly on them, but can handle it when I become the angsty wonder. I love my friends, because I wouldn't be able to sustain a job that keeps a roof over my head without them.
And now I'm emerging a bit. I'm writing for myself for the first time in...months. I finally am working again on a project I started weeks ago. I'm hoping I'll be able to start reading more again (yes, that is how bad it's gotten. I couldn't READ). So hope remains, and keep your fingers crossed for me.

update-y-ness

Haven't posted here in a long while. Ended the semester on a good note, overall GPA of 3.7...would have been higher if I hadn't procrastinated. My dad's voice in my head still tells me "That B should have been an A" and since in this case it WASN'T math, I have to agree. It should have been an A. Kicking myself on that one.
I'm not attending this semester. Didn't have the money. Spent months trying for a job and didn't get one until late December. So, that makes me sad. And a bit morose. And...feeling like I fucked things up and that I put yet another delay on my dreams when I'm not getting any younger.
Most of the time my age is just part of who I am. It's not a negative...until it comes to this. Because I'm so much older than most of my classmates, hell, I was older than two of my teachers last semester (though one of them, not by much). I'm so much older, which means that I'm going to have less time on my chosen path and it just makes me anxious. So anxious. Because I don't know if I'll have the money to pay for classes over the summer, and if that's the case it'll be a good 8 months before I get back in school. Which is a big chunk of the year.
I started training for the job I got. It's work from home, which is nice. But the schedule is not the most conducive to school. And I'm feeling so hopeless I can't even write my silly drabbles lately. I don't know how much is the job itself, how much is the school situation, and how much is just crazysauce. But...I just feel hopeless...and adrift. I fear that I will become comfortable in the rut of working a job like this (customer service for a big ol' company) and give up my dreams. I fear I'll let my fear of living like I did with my ex (one step away from eviction, surviving on ramen and peanut butter) make me make a bad decision. But I can give no less than my best, because that's how I was raised. I can already tell that I could progress in this company quite easily if I wanted to. It wouldn't even be a bad thing, necessarily, because mine is a personality that is great for a business like this. But it wouldn't be the best thing. The best thing would be to achieve my dreams and see more of the world than I currently do.
But I wish I could write right now. That would make me feel so much better. I spent my twenties mostly not writing, when it's always been one of the things that makes me happiest. I've never needed to be published, or needed acclaim, or needed recognition of my skills from any but my loved ones. I just...feel better, more whole, when I can write. Even when it's a senseless little romantic drabble. Maybe particularly then. Because those senseless little romantic drabbles are written for no one but myself, even if I do end up sharing them with my friends. But they are written solely for me, because it makes me happy to create those scenes.

Food

My relationship with food is kinda fucked. That would be the technical term of course. But it's true. I've a really screwy relationship with food that is all wrapped in my self-image, insecurity, childhood, and a whole lot of other things. As a child I would hide food in my room. Even as an adult I would feel the need to hide what I was eating. I would sneak food even though it was perfectly okay for me to be eating what I was eating.
I'd been making strides, I really had! I'd gotten to the point where I was basically eating three meals a day. I even ate in public! In the student center. Sometimes. And by sometimes I mean rarely, but STILL. Progress had been made. I was eating, then I was starting to eat healthier, and...things were looking up. I felt so hopeful.
Flash forward to the present...
It's the partially the financial stress, but part of it is seeing so few obese people on campus. I'm surrounded by people a decade younger than me and half my size. I have not had any of the past bad experiences happen to me yet, but I've also not given them an opportunity to happen.
Yesterday I would have gone the whole day (on a long day I'm awake between 3.30 and 4 and leave by 5 AM, not to get home til around 9 PM) having eaten nothing but a small piece of chicken, a peppermint and an energy drink (I do not include water intake because caloric value). I ended up being hungry, which shouldn't be surprising but was. I can usually submerge those feelings quite successfully. I had no money to spare, because honestly the caffeine necessary to ensure that I don't die a fiery death on the freeway was more important. What's a girl to do? Start bitching fruitlessly on the internet of course! I didn't think there was anything to be done and...I'm a whiner at times. I really am.
An amusing conversation developed on Twitter which ended up becoming about mechs. Hilarity was had by all. Hardy har. One friend suggested mooching food off someone, but even if someone had been eating that would have been impossible. I can only mooch off of people I've shared food with in the past. Another suggested I mug someone for food, which was appealing simply for the entertainment value.
Meanwhile, on Facebook, I was messaging with one of my "internet girlfriends" and bitching there. Little did I know that she was being proactive. Shortly she messaged me, informing me that not eating for 12 hours was unacceptable and that she was going to buy me dinner via online ordering. Dinner was delicious and she was duly declared the best "internet girlfriend". But...
It made me realize that I've been pulling stunts like that for a month. Do I eat that little all the time? NO. Have I been starving my body of nutrients because of anxiety over finances and insecurity around strangers? YES. Even when I'm at home I'm guilty of this, because I am uncomfortable with the fact that my friends are feeding and housing me for free when they have so little money to spare.
So in a nutshell what's going on? I have fantastic friends and my brain is fucked.

On stress and the lack of booze

I so wish I had money to buy booze. I so wish that I wasn't such a responsible adult that if someone were to GIVE me money for booze I would set it aside for gasoline and other such necessary sundries. SIGH.
I'm stressed. So stressed. I have no job. I had an interview for Amazon for a job that I was under the impression was flexibly scheduled. Which it rather is...as soon as you get through the month of training on a 7 AM to 4 PM schedule. I would not have wasted so much time if I'd know. Le sigh.
So now I look for a job. And look. And look. And apply. And look. I have received no replies, which is both frightening and disheartening. Which gets my crazysauce all up in a tizzy telling me "WHO THE FUCK WOULD HIRE YOU. YOU ARE EXHAUSTED. EVEN IF YOU GET A JOB YOU'LL LOSE IT BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO FUCKING ENERGY."  Day in, day out, with the mental screaming. No many how many times I tell it to shut the fuck up. This is why I need booze.
You see, I'm a happy drunk. It makes me feel better. It helps with physical pain too (OH that's the other thing, the area in which I am living HATES MY SINUSES. Don't worry, fibro's still doing pretty good). It's just...a relief. Which is part of the reason I don't drink much because I've already put such a load on my liver with the painkillers that I don't want to kill it with booze. Because it would be quite easy to become a functioning alcoholic. I also refrain because I don't have the money to be a functioning alcoholic. Sigh.
But I wish I had a bottle of something deliciously alcoholic. You know, the kind of stuff that has you drunk before you even start tasting the booze. I wish I had that bottle all to myself. I would huddle in my room and get drunk and giggle and possibly flirt on the internet. Or maybe just giggle on the internet. I would feel better for a time, and more importantly it would be a release valve for the pressure I feel myself under.
Alas. I have not the money nor the irresponsibility to booze it up.
Alas
Alas
Alack
Oh woe is me.
SIGH.
I'd say AJA AJA FIGHTING, but I'd rather have the booze *pout*.

Romance, or the lack thereof

I've actually got two things to ponder about under this heading, but only one might get written about. It depends on how quickly I run out of energy. The sinus thing drained me and I missed two days of school because of that. That means it was a week between long days, so I've also got sore legs from all of the walking yesterday. All that to say: I'm tired, we'll see how much I write.
So. Romance. I've made it very clear that I am actively avoiding it currently. Right now actively avoiding it has just meant making clear to my dear matchmaking friend that I really want her to NOT set me up. At school it's not an issue because there's still only about five people on campus I'm comfortable talking to. Well, students, I mean. Obviously I have to talk to my teachers and their TAs. While that would not necessarily be an impediment (we'll ignore my views on what college boys who are too young for me (can't sing the inspector gadget theme song? you're out of luck! ;) ) are probably attracted by), I'm currently in the habit of NEVER making eye contact whilst traveling between classes. So. Yeah. Actively avoiding romance.
I feel so envious right now though. I know I'm not in a healthy place for a relationship, because I haven't figured out why I pick the people I do nor have I figured out how to change that behaviour. But...*whine* I miss cuddling and twitterpation. The complicated crush, remember him? Anyways, he has been very successful lately on the romance front. I know other people who have been too, but I'm more aware of how he acts in those situations than I am of friends where there is not that complicated history. He and I are also alike in certain ways, so... It's just really easy for me to imagine what life is like right now for him. And...it makes me melancholy. Not because he's happy, or because of some kind of twisted jealousy, but...because...I want that even while I don't.
I don't want to deal with a relationship right now because I do NOT have the emotional energy. I don't want to be in a relationship right now, because I don't think I would choose a healthy one. I have a lot of reasons for wanting to remain single. But I still miss the emotional and physical closeness of being in a relationship. Not so much the sex (which is another issue I have to deal with) but more the affection. I'm just kind of lonely in that respect...and yet I treasure my solitude. It's just fucked up.
Okay, I'll write about the other because it's less depressing. SO...yeah...okay...um...right. I have been writing what Tyler calls "vignettes" of a romance story. Well, I mean, it's kind of two in my head but I've only actively worked on one of them because the second depends on the first. I am frustrated because I kind of have writer's block. It's not exactly that I don't know what I want to write, it's more that I cannot write more without a better mental image of one of the main characters. I've got two very solidly in mind, I can visualize them. No problem. The third is pretty solid, but I have a little bit of trouble because that's the one that is involved with the troublesome one. The fourth is just...UGH. I can't figure her out. I have only one bit of a scene written with her in it and it's phone dialogue. I can't see her as a person so I have the scenes that I sort of plotted out, but I can't write them because I can't fully visualize her reactions and dialogue. I know where the scene will end up, I have an idea of how the other characters would react, I know how it feeds into the larger plot, but I can't write because I don't know what she'll do.
So those are my two romance problems. There's not much that I've been able to figure out for either one, but, fuck, life happens right. I'm doing a lot of AJA AJA FIGHTING because I'm tired and it helps.

Beginnings

So I've had my first couple of classes and HOLY SHIT THIS UNIVERSITY IS INTIMIDATINGLY LARGE. As in the number of attendees is a couple hundred more than the population of the CITY my community college was in. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I kind of was aware of this, but being aware and suddenly realizing how many people are actually there is a whoooooole 'nother ballgame.
I got lost two and a half times yesterday and ended up wandering for (accumulated) hours. I had to stay home today because I wrecked my body a bit. Not as bad as it would have been in the Puget Sound, but I also have blood blisters on my left foot (as well as regular blisters on both feet). I know where my classes are now though, so that's something *sigh*.
My crazysauce is having trouble with the amount of people at the university. But I think I can manage...hopefully. It should only be a problem at one point during the day. I get to my first class super early and there aren't a whole lot of people out and about on campus at that time. Then I leave to eat and stay at the library for a few hours (theoretically doing homework). When I get back to campus I am going to park near my last class of the day, then walk to the second class...that's the tough one. The simple route (that won't get me lost) is both long and goes through "the mall" which is super busy and full of students. After that class is over I backtrack, but there are fewer students (though still a shit ton) out at that point. Leaving my last class I can walk out the back and get to my car with minimal social interaction. This is two days a week. The other two days are simple in and outs. So it's doable. Still stressful, but doable.
I ended up walking in front of sorority girls twice and shamelessly eavesdropped. It was kind of boring, but still kind of funny. Though mad props to the girl who has a boyfriend who's thinking marriage. Why? Because she doesn't want to support him. Way to break stereotypes chica! Seriously, she's a young thing who definitely has a grasp of what she wants from life. I have no idea what she looks like, I thought it might be creepy to turn around and look.
I am too tired to be funny right now. Insert your own joke here.

Oh the places your brain will go

My fundraiser ( https://fundrazr.com/stories/d4mRzc ) has been distressingly disappointing. If it weren't for the girlfriend of a friend I would be screwed. Thankfully, in spite of a lack of money or caring (guess which one the crazysauce tends towards thinking it is?) I have still got the most expensive part covered. She gave me a desktop computer and monitor that she is no longer using and he gave me a new keyboard and mouse. I don't have the money for some of the other things I REALLY need for this potential job (Like, y'know, a PHONE for the dedicated phone line.) but I have the desktop. And that is good. I don't know for sure that I'll get this job, but I fulfill all but one of their preferred qualifications, so I'm hopeful.
My brain is dwelling and flitting about. I'm mopey about the fact that so few people helped. I know that a lot of people are dead broke, but it hurts that they couldn't even spare five dollars. Silly, I know, but there you are. I would say a handful of people helped, either through signal boosting or contributing, so that's something anyways. And some continually boosted the signal, which made me feel good.
Then I come across stuff I missed due to crazysauce. Like that solidarity is for white women or something hashtag? I felt kind of lost because, as always, I just don't realize what white women don't know. They really don't know that the color gap is bigger than the gender gap when it comes to wages? How is that even possible? I mean, this facts keep popping up ALL OVER THE INTERNET. The internet that they are using. Just...HOW?!? And then I found out how shitty parts of the feminist movement are and I think to myself "Thanks, I'll stick with the old-school feminists who care about motherfucking equality regardless of race, religion, or lifestyle kthnsbye." I mean, those are the white feminists I think of when you put those two terms together.It makes me sad that there's another kind.
It made something pop to the top of my head again. I've pondered a lot about why I'm more comfortable with non-white folk, but less so for why I'm uncomfortable with a lot of white folk. The fact is that they have expectations that not only can I not fulfill, but that I don't even comprehend. There's some sort of white code that I just never got the book for. So I walk into an interaction with an unknown white person EXPECTING that one or both of us is going to be uncomfortable. Self-perpetuating thingamajig.
I'm excited for school, I'm excited for the potential of ACTUALLY getting to see Pacific Rim on the big screen without murdering my budget, and most of all I'm excited for change. Scared out of my wits, but excited.

Pondering crazy

My crazy swells and falls, waxes and wanes. It's a constant part of my thoughts, mind, soul, identity. It's an integral part of how I interact with the world around me, for both good and ill. My crazy allows me to experience life in a unique fashion that only my fellow crazies can hope to comprehend. But even my fellow crazies cannot fully understand what it means to me. The ecstasy of being is incomprehensible, unknowable, infinite, awe inspiring, beyond words, beyond thought, beyond reason, even were we able to exchange thoughts I would not be able to fully convey it. Because it just...is. Every moment of my life, every breath, it is all...imperfect perfection. It's not easy, it is in fact very hard (that's what she said). But how would I trade it for a stunted way of living? For that's what normality would be for me, barren. I've only ever lived in this state of bizarrity, of otherness, if I were to suddenly be sane my world would be empty. The universes inside my mind create a pleasing border that encompasses the world around me. Others hear me speak of snippets of experience, and perhaps it's bad, unsettling, panic inducing at the time, but when they express sympathy...When they express sympathy I have to admit that, in my heart of hearts, the depths of my mind, all that goes through it is "You feel sorry for me? Oh, sweetie, you don't know what life is until you've embraced it fully because you don't know what the next moment may bring!" Yes, sometimes my brain thinks it's being chased by zombies, or serial killers, or evil of one stripe or another. And yes, that can be frightening. Extremely. But in the midst of those moments I can laugh at the insanity of my own brain, and when the crazy passes I take a breath of the most invigorating air, figurative or otherwise, that can be experienced. Adrenaline junkies might have a chance of understanding me, or poets who glimpse the divine. But all I can tell you is that even in the midst of panic, anxiety, depression, I know that my moment of bliss is coming. I know that I will wake up one morning, blink, and realize that the bad has subsided and I will breathe deeply, freely, joyfully...and I will live so completely in that moment that I will experience heaven.
Never pity me, even though I often pity you.

Oh Life, why are you so...you?

It's been awhile since I last posted. We had a looooong drive back from Kentucky and the friendship managed to survive. We didn't have internet for a bit and just got it back today. So that's a yay. What's not such a yay is my brain. Yay.
SO. Yeah. Financial Aid? Not so much this semester. I got 2500 over the basic federal funding and still needed another ten grand. That didn't happen. So I started crunching numbers like mad and...fall semester is probably going to happen, but I won't be full time (nor will I be living on campus, yaaaay hour plus commute. One way.). It's kind of frustrating because I'm losing half my pell grant and I'm only going to be 2 or 3 credits away from the full time that will give me the full amount. *sigh* BUT, I have managed to figure out how to attend this fall, and I have a lead on a seasonal job (which, as always, could lead to regular employment) that would allow me to save up enough to go full time Spring semester. I've got plans up the wazoo and am currently running a fundraiser to help me get the hardware I need for that seasonal job. https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/9ZJo8 (shameless plug)
So this is great, right? I've solved the problems in advance so there should be no problems, right? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA...ha...yeah no. My crazysauce is in such full force right now that I almost had a panic attack standing in line at the library. THE LIBRARY. AKA the one place I never have them which is why I was initially considering getting a Library Science degree. Yeah, that is so not a good sign. My heart was pounding, my chest hurt, I could barely breathe. Just...crap. I'm holed up in the room my friends have so graciously provided for me and pop out for less than an hour at a time in an effort NOT to be a complete anti-social leach. I'm freaking out on so many fronts.
First- My mind is both humiliated and unconvinced by my fundraiser. I'm embarrassed to ask for help and in my heart of hearts I can't really believe I'm going to raise the money which leads to
Second- Crazysauce says I can't get a job, keep a job, or in any way make enough money for school.
Third-I'm staying with friends who really grok the mental illness thing. Which, of course, means they're crazy too which means we can get into vicious cycles of crazy.
Fourth-My crazysauce is so ascendant right now that I cannot help but be fearful for my performance in school.
Fifth-I'm fucking CRAZY y'all.

Resisting the urge to maim

Tom is lucky to be alive.
You know how some people become first time parents and there's like this amazing flowering of personal growth because having a child has pulled them outside of their own minds and you're just like "WOW, you're actually a worthwhile human being! Who knew?!?" Okay, now think of the opposite of that.
He's fucking lucky to be alive. It's a wonder his body wasn't found in a ditch on the way here (here being Kentucky).
 I am sympathetic, because some of his behaviour has to do with the shitty relationship he was in before. She was a piece of work...in the bad way. She fucked him up, over, and under. She was also a skunt. BUT...if my brainmath is correct, it's been over two years now. His new wife (the wonderful Wendy who has her own problems from a previous relationship but is a LOT more aware of that) is NOTHING like the old one. Serious upgrade. His family agrees. I would submit that continuing to react to her like she was his ex is a fucking insult.
IN ANY CASE. While some of his reactions are because of the former and I can understand that...there's a line. And he keeps crossing it.
He also is failing at parenting because he can't stop panicking. Here he is with a teething baby in his arms, a crying teething baby, and what is his reaction? YELL. When his wife (who has two much older children and thus experience) asks him to stop yelling? He continues yelling that he's sorry, he's not mad, he just doesn't know what to do. At which point she tells him AGAIN to stop yelling. Somehow he can't seem to clue in that a baby doesn't understand that he's not yelling because he's mad, a baby just knows that she's in pain and now her daddy is being LOUD AND YELLY. He also can't understand why his defensive behaviour and inability to take constructive criticism might piss wifey off. Tempers fray. Muchly. and now we segue.
I was asked to tag along so I could help Tom bring home malted shakes for everyone. Fine. His adorkable niece ends up tagging along. Great. He goes around supposedly making a list of what malts people want so he's all organized (theoretically). Reasonable. He keeps repeatedly asking me if I'm going and when I say "sure" snaps at me to get ready to go...repeat this step over a period of twenty minutes to half an hour. Eyetwitch. Niece and I have been goofing off and harassing each other all day, he asks us to cut it out in the car, as this is a reasonable request we comply. We get to the store and get in line. He has forgotten the list in the car. Niece and I step aside and goof off (she was bopping my nose and trying to keep me from bopping hers). He comes back in and orders. Great. We continue goofing off. He bites our fucking heads off. At this point I am thinking "okay, that's legit, I can understand how the immaturity would get annoying. I will accept this even though his tone is completely out of line." He screws up his order. People get in line behind us. He screws up his order again. And again. And again. We (niece and I) try to help keep him calm and figuring out the order. This is not a rewarding experience. After umpteen order changes (I felt so bad for the guys working and the people in line behind him) we finally end up with an 8 malt order. 5 chocolate, 2 cherry, and a cookie dough. If you couldn't guess I KEPT HEARING THIS FUCKING ORDER. While talking to us he keeps screwing up what's in his order. So when the guy says "Here's cookie dough and 2 chocolate" and tom responds with a comment that sound an awful lot like he thinks that's all the chocolate he's getting I let loose with a flippant and dramatic "BUT WAIT, there's more!" He starts going off on me, and as it seems like it has to do with the order takers I think it's reasonable. So I politely say that I'm sorry, that's not what I intended I just meant that there were more chocolate malts coming. HE FLIPS THE FUCK OUT AND ORDERS ME TO GO STAND OUTSIDE AND WAIT BY HIS CAR. He's six fucking years older than me. I won't let my own MOTHER talk to me in that tone, and she went through three days of labour for me! This does not fucking fly. I don't know if my eye was twitching, but I must have had a murderous gleam in my eye as I stared him down. I think I said something like "Oh, WE can TAKE this outside." He starts apologizing and trying to blame his alcoholic consumption of the night before, or the fact that his wife is cranky (because he wouldn't stop fucking yelling around their teething and vomiting 6 month old baby), or that they didn't get enough sleep OR OR OR. All that's going through my head is how many times he has lashed out at me over the past month and apologized for it. People don't realize it, but I have a pretty potent temper. I made the decision to leave before I lost my shit in public. As I turn and go towards the door he says "No, you don't have to wait outside." I informed him that I thought it would be a good idea and leave to go pace behind the car. I think it made him uncomfortable because he ended up bringing his keys out to the car. When he and Niece come out with the order he apologizes, stating it's nothing personal. "It never is," I reply. I also ratted him out to his wife (and feel no guilt about that) and he apologized again.
I should add that the man does have PTSD. Which is why I have endured a LOT more bullshit from him than I would normally consider acceptable. A LOT. Because the asshole thinks it's okay to dish out teasing and shit on me, but if I reciprocate (or, heaven forbid, aid his WIFE in teasing or shenanigans) he flips the fuck out. I keep telling him "Don't dish it if you can't take it" and he keeps insisting he can.
Bullshit.
You can just IMAGINE how much I'm looking forward to the trip back :/

Comfort zones are overrated

I'm in Kentucky right now. My Tom and Wendy, their five month old (teething) daughter, Wendy's 12 year old daughter, their smaller dog, and myself drove from SW Arizona to NE Kentucky in 2 days. We are not sane. It was a tough drive and there were actually a fair number of triggers thrown around for ALL of us, but we survived. It was a close shave for Tom (so many places to hide the body on a trip like this), but he still survived.
I thought the trip would trigger my crazy more. I mean, I've always been bad with change, and with plans falling through, or schedules going kaput, but...I was okay. We ended up getting to our first night's stopping point about 4 or 5 hours later than we intended, I didn't get to see my friend in Austin, TX, the food plan was NOT followed, which meant that the budget was NOT followed...and I survived pretty damn well. I managed not to panic too much, and I think I've managed the new people okay. Under the circumstances it's hard not to pull the kicked puppy act "likemelikemelikemepleaselikeme" but I think I'm doing...okay. Not perfect by any stretch, but okay.
I will freely admit that I am concerned for our trip back, because Tom is bad with money and he won't have my extra that got us the last little way gaswise. But...we'll figure things out. Somehow.
Less clear is what the HELL I'm going to do if the other half of my financial aid doesn't come through. I love Tom and Wendy, but living with them long term is not an option. Well, okay, it's an option, but it's not one I'm comfortable with. The deal was that I'd stay with them on holidays and breaks, not long term. Also, if I lived with them long term I'd have to sleep somewhere else a couple times a month because of lease things.
But...I'm still cool. I'm still good. I took a flying leap of faith outside my comfort zone and I'm pretty happy with it. I've been severely limiting my social interaction in AZ, but that's just acclimation. And common sense. I'm having a blast with Tom's family and they respect my space.
I am kind of tired right now, so even though there's more that I could write about I don't think I'm going to. Suffice to say that change is scary and my comfort zones have been supremely stretched...and I couldn't be happier.

Myself

Sometimes I'll just be sitting there (wherever there may be) and I find myself bewildered by myself. Because, see, I care very deeply for my friends but at the same time I often feel very detached from them. I'm sure it's the crazysauce, but it's still a really weird sensation. I love my friends deeply and with great dedication, but there come random times where I could walk away without a thought. Which...is weird to me.
While I know this is crazysauce, it's still bewildering. How can I care so much for someone that I would take a bullet for them and at the same time so easily walk away? I think about people who are no longer in my life, but it's kind of like...out of sight, out of mind. When I think about my ex (which is not all that frequent) I don't really care about him. I'm not happy with the way I was treated, but I...just don't care. I don't wish him ill (unless I'm really cranky ;) ), I just...don't care. Don't they say the opposite of love is indifference? I guess that's true.
I guess that's true of friend-love as well too. It bothered my ex that I could so thoroughly lose people from my life. Is it strange to reach the point of "no more" and walk away without a second thought? Most of the time I don't think so, partially because I will stay dedicated to someone faaaaaaaaaaaaaar past the point I should (and I'm not just referring to my ex-husband). But when I get these moments where I feel so incredibly detached from my life...well...the moments in question are strange enough that even while I'm experiencing them I question them. I also question anything that resembles them. Like my ability to wipe someone from my life.
I don't know. I'm tired, not feeling great, and yet again bewildered by my bizarro emotions. Definitely need to see about therapy if I can get all this finaid stuff sorted. I just need an impartial source to tell me what's healthy and what's not :/.

In Arizona

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.

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 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.

What it means to be friends

Last night I talked another friend off the ledge. I don't know what's in the atmosphere lately, but a lot of people are going through slumps at the same time. At least that's what it seems like. It's kind of weird for me, because I'm feeling better than I have...EVER. Not to say my mental state is perfect, but...yeah.
I was struck by a few things during, and because of, that conversation. The least consequential is that I didn't realize how much of a fibro fog I've been in lately. I was talking to my friend when I jolted and realized I had no idea what I'd just been saying or what the purpose was. Fortunately my friend is used to deciphering my "unique" conversational style, so nothing bad happened. But it made me realize that maybe I'm not doing as well physically as I thought. Which is a minor minor thing, but still a realisation.
The other was that I'm really really really the wrong person to talk to if you want someone to convince you NOT to hurt yourself. Because (and I know how fucked up this is) I truly believe self-injury is a completely acceptable coping mechanism. As long as you know how to patch yourself up...All I care about is if you feel better. If it doesn't make you feel better, don't do it. This extends to all forms of self-medication really. As long as you're not hurting anyone else and it makes you feel better, then I'm not going to pressure you to change. I call full halt when it hurts someone else, and if it starts to hurt you then we're going to start having conversations about it.
But the things is...who the fuck am I to judge? I've self-medicated in different ways. I go through periods where I hurt myself. I don't cut, but that's only because I have a problem with the sight of my own blood (well, not completely, but I'm not into extensive explanation right now). I probably will hurt myself periodically for the rest of my life. Because, guess what? It makes me feel better and does no lasting damage. Which will frustrate every mental health practitioner I ever meet probably.
Anyways, after I got off the phone with my friend sitting back from the ledge, I started messaging another friend on Facebook. He's my BFAM and he helps me put things into perspective by his very existence. Like....I can talk to him about anything, but I don't have to. I can just message him and knowing he's there if I need him makes things better. It's the willingness to listen that helps.
I'm getting off-track from what I wanted to talk about. Again. As always.
I have two viewpoints on friendship that work well for me. One I learned from a dear friend who said that friends are like investments, dump the ones who don't give good returns. It took me a long time to figure out how to utilise that advice in a way that worked for me. In my case it rarely means I just drop the person, ne'er to be seen again. I usually stop making an effort or including them in my life. The other viewpoint I couldn't really put into words, until last night. Talking to my bfam clarified it for me. I'm going to copy and paste what I wrote because I want to hang on to it.
"The one thing I always needed was to be accepted for who I am, broken bits and all, so it would be hypocritical of me not to accept others, y'know?

doesn't mean I'll like them all

or be friends with them

but I can accept them as they are

It's proved a good strategy for finding friends who'll accept me"

I admit, sometimes I end up with some dead weight because of this philosophy. But y'know...the dead weight costs me very little time, and maintaining this attitude and philosophy does a lot of things for me. It makes me the friend, no, PERSON, I desire to be. It means I know how to deal with emotions, my own or others. It means that I've found people who I can call on if I need perspective, someone to listen, or just company. It means that I can be happy with the way I live my life. It means that I can see both the best and worst in people, and still like the human race in general.
I'll never be done growing, because that is a silly way to live. But I feel like...I don't know...like my roots are firmly planted in the soil I want, that I can grow in the direction I want, and I have room enough to spread out to soak up the proverbial sun and rain.

Achievement unlocked!

I continue to make progress on my "I want" list. :-) I attended Emerald City ComiCon and it was everything I had hoped. I went with my two geek buddies from school and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly before , after, and during the con. We got there a couple hours early and still weren't at the front of the line! Pretty near though  ;-). The important part for me was that I managed myself well with the crowds. I'm not saying set it was perfect for that I was. But it's important to me and means a lot but I did manage to control my anxiety and fear and stuff enough to make it to work during an event that was just *filled* with people. I think I did good. Of course the tension from the crowds and being pressed up against a complete stranger whilst attending two panels in a row left me with pained shoulders and back, but... I still rocked it and sang manamana with a couple complete strangers. I guess I will always be the charming social butterfly with social anxiety. I'm okay with that, as long as I can still get the social interaction that I crave on my own terms. I seem to be more certain that it's possible lately. I'm happy.