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.

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.

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.

Grief

Someone I know died yesterday. She was 36. I don't know if I would say we were really close friends, but we were comfortable talking to each other about most anything. I was there to cheer her up through divorce, custody battle, and just life in general. And she always made me smile. We shared a pretty awesome taste in friends. We were Whovians together, and whenever I saw a cute Tardis dress I'd send her link. I don't know who I'll send it to now.
I got to go to her wedding. It wasn't the official ceremony, that had happened awhile before. But this was her grand shindig wedding. It was Doctor Who themed and I took my two closest international student friends with me. We helped set up. I helped her mother-in-law maker her bouquet. I suggested making a bouquet for her husband, and that ended up happening. When it came to the pertinent part of the ceremony I joined in with everyone else "Mawwiage...Mawwiage is what bwings us togethwa today..."
She never found out who the Twelfth Doctor was, and that makes me sad. I think the fact that he played the Angel Islington in Neverwhere would have made her giggle. I never got to have that conversation with her. I'll never send her another dirty meme, or pretty dress, or geeky song. I'll never cheer for her when something awesome happens. I'll never be able to tell her I miss her again.
I don't know if we'd be called close friends, but we were GOOD friends.
I am far from the only person feeling this loss. You'd have to have known her to understand. She was just...light in the darkness. No matter how low she got, she would always fight her way back to the light. She'd often credit her friends for her success, but so much of it was just her. She had this grin that just sucked you in, a mischievous spirit that just made you want to cause trouble with her, a joie de vivre that was just captivating. Knowing she was in the world made it a better place.
I feel like I should be more like her now. I mean, in some ways we were a lot alike, that's why we got along. But...I lack her willingness to take chances on people romantically. I lack her ability to accept that kind of love. It scares me. It would take a whole lot of therapy to get me even halfway there. So I guess that's motivation. I can never be her, but I can embrace and accept more fully the things that we shared. I can learn to be more confident by remembering her delight in herself. Perhaps I can follow her example in health. I can use her as the impetus to FOCUS more on getting fit. I don't know. I just feel like...I just feel like I want to do something to make her presence remain.

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 :/

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 :/.

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.

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.