My Biggest Dream(s)

“When your biggest dream is for things to not be taken away from you, you can’t stop being anxious”. ~ squeakykeys (via TikTok)

(Look Fairy Gay Mother! I found a blog topic)

That quote hit me really hard right now. probably would have hit me hard at any point but now especially. After dealing with a year of things being taken away from me in my relationship with Rochester. After a year of dealing with more of my freedoms and autonomy being taken away from me from all aspects of my life. After reflecting on how many things have been taken away from me my entire life, most importantly safety.

“I just know I’m not satisfied yet. I want more”. ~ squeakykeys (via TikTok)

One of the things I have been working on for years and still have not been able to fully integrate, is that it’s ok for me to want. And I know that a lot of the things I want can also be and technically are needs. After a lifetime of continued brainwashing about what wants and needs are and constantly being told either one was not ok for me to have, they still get crammed together sometimes.

My biggest dream is to have a safe home. Somewhere I’m rooted. Not having to start over every year or two. I want a safe home where I can visually express myself with the decor. I can find my perfect balance of organized maximalism. Where I could take off every single mask. Where I could take a real breath. Where I could sink fully into that elusive word of relaxed. I want a home where it feels safe to sleep. That I don’t have to be ready to leap from my bed at a moments notice and I shut my door for those few precious extra moments of being able to respond to whomever just bulldozed into your room. I want a home where love can grow and fears are met with kindness.

There’s more. There’s always more. But the tears are too many tonight. Maybe I will continue the list tomorrow.

Wibbly, Wobbly

Was recently reminded from fairy gay mother that time is a thing, and I seem to keep losing track of it one way or another.

Things have been hard.

I have been feeling the pulls of despair and the stepping closer to another mental/emotional break.

There’s a lot of pressure to accomplish things I do not have the means or privilege to accomplish, and can’t just do the things anyway like others in similar or worse positions than I am in.

Teapot and I have been discussing my frustration in my inability to just do the things like I did however long ago it was before the first mental breakdown when everything went to shit. I understand that operating at that level was never actually healthy or sustainable for me. It’s hard to deal with when I feel like I really need to tap into those abilities, but I know the physical and emotional cost would be too high.

I took some steps over the weekend. Not as big of steps as I would like, but took them all the same. I managed to get all of the laundry that has been sitting in baskets for months, folded. I still need to find hangers for those things, and a few more things to put away in drawers. That’s more complicated since the room is not clean enough to just put things away, so I have to move things in and out of that space. I have a bunch of cubes to go through and try to organize into the new storage system, put in storage, donate, or just throw away. I get overwhelmed with the amount of steps to do a thing. Even with brain dumps.

I tried to not get upset with myself or talk down to myself when I needed breaks. I took whatever breaks, whenever, no matter what they were for. Sometimes my back started to ache, so I watched tv for a couple of hours. Sometimes I got really overwhelmed with my thoughts and feelings about everything that has been happening, so I’d just sit in the garage in the cold and try to connect to my body.

Honestly, reader, I spent most of the weekend self medicating.

Which means I didn’t get my room completely cleaned. And I didn’t get caught up on the coding class. I didn’t even work on it at all.

I still haven’t played a video game or read a book for my enjoyment.

Most times I just want to spend some more time crying.

Ebbf has been checking on me fairly regularly. Providing support where he can. I’ve also been hearing about his new adventures and some struggles. He was obviously around for V1 with Rochester, and the aftermath. At least he’s well versed on why the progression of V2 is affecting me even worse. Now is extra worse since I’m also learning to feel all those feelings.

Which makes me think, there’s a lot of different emotions that people ascribe to being the worst feeling to experience. Grief and loss of hope are tied at the worst for me. Anger after that, but that’s because I have a history with how anger has been used and abused.

I’ve been sitting in a lot of grief. Most of my life. Some days more than others. Lately it’s been more again. And by lately, I mean a year in reality, but the last few months have been more concentrated.

Since this last Friday, I think I’m starting to lose hope. I spend a lot of time and energy on something/someone who finds it really easy to step away. I keep thinking we’re a team on trying to fix this, but that’s seeming less true.

Ebbf has always said that silence is an answer.

The bigger problem with silence, when that’s the main thing you’re getting from someone for days/weeks at a time, is it allows for you to create your own narrative. And sometimes that creation of a narrative is coming from a place of survival. Especially when silence has never just been silence in your life, and none of the things you’ve asked for to help with in those moments were provided, it’s easier to slip into places you don’t want to be.

It’s been difficult to be kind to myself as all the big feelings and trauma wounds have been coming up. I’ve discovered a few things about what has and is bothering me and why. Other things just hurt and I haven’t figured them out yet. Maybe I never will.

Need to do some therapy homework still. Going to be another list where most things aren’t going to be possible. Basically on what does healthy look like to me now, with all my new information about my physical and mental health. Which means, ultimately, more of doing extra work and expending more energy than I have to try and accomplish what I can. To still hear people tell me from the sidelines how they “wish they could help” and “you’re so strong”.

In other news, I was depressed enough this weekend I made a poor financial decision. This is exactly why I know I need to not be rushed on coming to terms and accepting that my relationship is dissolving in front of me and Rochester made his decision a long time ago. Because I tried to rush myself this weekend to a place of acceptance as the silence has continued, and instead I found myself looking at things I didn’t really need, but that I did really want. And the only way it would ever happen is if I did it for myself.

Like most things.

I’m not returning it. I’ll deal with the consequences of my actions.

Doesn’t actually make a difference in anything anyways. And it’s pretty. And made me feel better for a second.

I’ll be taking a harder look at my budget and removing my ease at ordering things in another week when I can settle the room.

Another year, another day

February stays the same.

More pain, more heartache, more lessons about how love should and shouldn’t feel.

I did my photoshoot. Which was cold and challenging, and who knows if I ever had more than one expression. Not sure when I get the images back.

I have my very dark roses that I bought myself. They were delivered on the 7th. I left them as long as I could, so as I trim them every few days, maybe they’d last just a little longer. I’m going to try a couple different ways of drying them eventually. As Miley says, I can buy myself flowers. Generally have to. I think I’ve mostly received them as apologies. Got them twice for my birthday, but the second time I had to ask and then got attitude for it.

Still haven’t managed the strawberries. We’ll see how depressed I am tomorrow. Ironic that I have therapy literally on Valentine’s Day this year.

I’ve been reading Bell Hooks, “All About Love”. When my heart can handle it. She reminds that my life is mostly grief, but there’s some comfort in knowing I’m not the only one who has gone through these things. That has been used for my love more often than being loved.

I realized I do tend to model the way I would like to be loved. Not always. A big part of it is just how I do love, but if I’m really honest with myself, I do wish to be on the receiving end of things as well, more often than most partners have provided or even care to do.

At first I wanted to take myself out to see Amelie tomorrow night. There’s special showings of it in theaters. I never had the chance to see it in theaters and it is one of my favorite movies. One of those ones that reminds me to hope. But there’s nothing near me and I don’t have the ability to drive myself farther.

I had thought about just having a solo movie night with some of my favorites then. But I’m less inclined right now to want to feel any of those things.

I had thought about making a really nice, and kinda fancy meal at home to share with the my brother and his girlfriend. But I don’t have the energy to do that anymore either, and they were never sure if they were going to do something or not.

Everything feels too heavy.

I still did some valentines gifts this year. Because I had felt like it at the time. Because part of me is always going to be and want to be romantic, no matter how anything is actually turning out.

Monday while driving and generally in times of waiting, I spent a good chunk of it thinking about older conversations with teapot. Things haven’t been great in the relationship realm. Communication issues, triggers getting drop kicked again, mixed messages in general.

Teapot had asked me long ago, both before I started dating again and when it first started, what made me feel loved. The memory of it had me going back through the journal I have where I had been writing those things down. The lists of what makes me feel loved, what I needed and wanted in a relationship, and boundaries around all of that.

There’s entries in there too that are scattered moments from over the relationship, but especially the last year. Things that felt too private to add here.

A lot of them I couldn’t actually manage to read through. I’d catch a sentence or two, then start to tear up.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be an emotional masochist and actually read through the things. Therapy already won’t be an easy session. Because again, maybe ironically, tomorrow is working on a difficult subject around relationships general, but also the current one specifically.

I’ve been working on a letter too. Not a love letter. And maybe another one that gets added to the pile of ones I never actually send. Though I don’t get them often anymore, and I don’t send them often now either. One of the ways I’m trying to teach myself to match energy.

So maybe tomorrow I will just give myself to wallow. After work, I will just crawl into bed, and stay there. Because I’ve been fighting so hard for things…

At a friend’s bday over the weekend, I forget what the exact conversation was about. I remember, vaguely, a comment being made about something I did for myself. My unfiltered response was something along the lines of I had to be the one to take care of and save myself. Because even white knights don’t ever want to try to save me.

Ebbf has at least, once again provided sentiments that he wishes he could buy me out of my situation at home, and has vowed my freedom should he ever receive a windfall.

Not all love is romantic love.

Time to leak out some feelings and hopefully sleep without cpstd nightmares, likely asking for too much.

They say…

If they wanted to they would.

But you have to show someone how to love you.

You have to love yourself before anyone else will.

But others will love the parts of us that we don’t.

You have to know your own worth.

But someone who truly values you doesn’t need to be told.

Love is patient.

But don’t keep waiting for them to love you, move on.

Words are important.

But their actions have to line up.

Love is unconditional.

But your presence is conditional.

Love isn’t supposed to be hard.

But relationships are constant work.

Inconsistency is a very hard thing for me. In words, in people, and in life in general.

The world is full of mixed messages, especially in every single piece of advice or ‘wisdom’ that’s hurled through various forms of communication and media.

Plenty of fish in the sea and soul mates and twin flames and infinite love.

These things are somehow supposed to be universal and not a one size fits all.

Because no one knows what the fuck they are actually doing, but it’s better to make shit up than to just admit where you are I guess.

I’m exhausted by all of it.

I started re-reading my journal over the new moon in Capricorn. It’s not even halfway filled. I started it when burning bowl went digital so I could look back on my lists as needed for the things I wanted in the coming years.

I wrote down my ambitions, my hopes, my dreams. I wrote down lists of things I wanted and needed in a relationship before I was back in one. I wrote actual journal entries when I only had that available and needed to get the thoughts out of my head.

A few months ago I wrote a list of things that I would need in an ideal world to recover from this soul aching level of burn out that I can’t seem to escape.

In someways the whole thing feels like fiction. I would say a fairytale but I’ve been living the first 60-80% of a fairytale most of my life. The hardships, the lessons, and just keep going attitude with the smallest threads of hope keeping me warm.

It makes me sad. Looking at all the things I thought I could accomplish each year. The things I haven’t managed. It makes me sad to see how much I still compromise and just stop asking for. How often I don’t get the rest I desperately need and deserve.

I had a stray thought today. That I romanticize so many small things, because too few people have ever loved me out loud.

February is edging closer, and I feel the emotional scars itching and aching.

I’ve already started figuring out the things to do for myself, to remind myself that not all love is romantic love. To treat myself the way that I want and need to be treated even if it would be really nice for someone else to do it for a while.

I have a photo shoot scheduled with one of my favorite photographers for a confidence boost and to remind myself I’m a beautiful badass to start off the month.

I’m going to make sure to get myself chocolate strawberries this year.

I’m going to buy myself flowers as often as I want them and not feel guilty for a single one.

February will also be the month that teapot and I refocus our sessions. This week is the last one for the foreseeable future that we’re going to focus on the polystruggles. There was one last subject I wanted help on before I told her I needed a break from giving that so much focus.

She gave some thoughts on how to work on reclaiming the relationship in our last session. We spent a lot of time talking and figuring out my boundaries, needs, and wants. I’ve communicated as much as I can about all of those things, and tried to meet people where they are. But that’s hard to do when they keep changing it.

I tried and I’m tired.

Maybe I’ll finish writing one of my books. Live vicariously through my characters. That’s what most of them are anyways. Fractions of self inserts. Things I thought would be nice to experience in some way.

Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t demisexual.

Don’t mind me. Just in a spiral of self pity.

Feeling terribly lonely.

At the very least I’ll go start to read a romance book tonight. I’m sure that won’t make me feel worse at all.

Today is for Fairy Gay Mother

In tradition with this day that a few likely rue and many more are grateful for, I have decided to make a more public post.

The ways Fairy Gay Mother has ruined me, lessons, and wisdom:

• I measure most interactions by her standards. I have some growing yet still to do on the amount of chances I give people, but I do at least sit back and think to myself, “if I were to share this interaction with FGM, what would her reaction be?”
• I do what I can and then I stop. Still working on that one too, but I do it way more often now than I did before.
• I have felt unconditional love. It has boundaries and is healthy, but there is never a condition on it. Continuing to have access to me, however, is conditional.
• I am not afraid anymore to let someone know that they are being unkind, even when it’s me. Before I would always stand up for others, but would generally let someone who was being unkind to me, continue to do so.
• I’ve learned that shame is just another stick they use to beat you with.
• Don’t do your enemies work for them.
• Love is having and respecting boundaries.
• I ask myself, “is this worth the cortisol?”, and sometimes I can actually say nah and walk away.

There are many more things. Though my brain is a bit fuzzy with therapy today and whatnot.

I will never forget the day I met FGM, or the fact that in a room full of people, she was the only one who saw through all my masks. I don’t think I would be nearly as far in my healing journey if she hadn’t sat down next to me, and showed me I didn’t have to be anyone but myself. I am grateful for every day and moment since then, and for every moment there still is.

I see her in so many moments now in my life, and it always makes me feel loved. I’ve even found my way to start becoming a purple person.

Thank you for helping me see spite sprite.

Thank you for making me an honorary pirate.

Thank you for being my family.

The Bare Minimum

Things continue to be a lot.

I feel like people are determined to misunderstand me and that I’m not being heard.

My needs and wants are often met with hostility and accusations.

Right now I could count the amount of people who take the time and spend the energy to care about me and take care of me, truly, on one hand.

My feed has been filled with the usual topics, which means I should really, probably, get off the scrolling hamster wheel. Though one of the things that came up was specifically around romantic relationships, and how most straight, cis women will talk about the challenges of dating straight, cis men, and how little they do for them no matter how much the women put in and do. The topic of what the bare minimum actually is has been circulating.

One creator, that I can’t remember now, brought up that the bare minimum is how your best friend would treat you. If your partner is not treating you at least at that level, than you shouldn’t be tolerating it.

Now, I’m not particularly good at pointing to a specific person and ranking them like that. Who is my best friend. I have my circle of trust and I feel those people are all in that ranking I guess. My friendships are varied and there’s valid reasons why some things happen and something’s don’t in each of them. But I could tell you, with absolutely certainty, those friends would go absolutely feral on my behalf. And I for them. Either burning everything down or to show exactly how much love is there.

I realized this weekend that my cousin showed me a good indicator of that bare minimum.

This is going to get long and feel like a tangent but stick with me.

I have been struggling for a few years (more than that but I digress). I have been feeling the burn out even more this year with all the medical issues and other things arising.

One of my biggest stressors has been my storage unit. It’s one of the things I have consistently asked for help on because the facility I’m at right now is terrible. Instead of helping me, my family has made the unit a nightmare for me to think about much less work in.

A few months ago, after realizing that my immediate family was truly never going to help me, I asked if I could bring all my bins of clothes out to my Aunt/Cousin’s and if they’d help me go through everything to sort, purge, and take pictures of. They of course agreed. Whenever I wanted to.

The surgery made that harder, then a few other issues came up.

My cousin, continuing to hear the issue and struggles and my overwhelm, offered to come out to me instead.

Didn’t ask me what I needed. Didn’t put further burden on me. Heard what I needed and where I was at, and just did what she could to help.

Original plans was the clothes. Pull them all out, maybe do a few things in the unit, but take everything back to the house and hide from the heat/AQ.

The morning took longer than expected.

Parents left almost 2hrs later than they had planned. I made breakfast for everyone that was left after they did (5 including me) which required a trip to the store for some items missing. Things were just not going according to schedule.

The whole morning before we were to head over, she kept giving me gentle reminders that she was there for me. Whatever I needed, whenever I needed it.

Eventually after breakfast I sat down. She had been playing a game. As soon as she saw me she reminded me she was ready to go, short of putting on shoes and changing a shirt, just let her know when I was ready.

I needed more time. I needed time to regulate. I needed time to not do anything.

“That’s fine. Just making sure you know I’ll put this down as soon as you say so. I’m here for you”.

Eventually I hit a space that I felt more calm and regulated (we had also stayed up fairly late with both of us venting about our week).

When we got to the storage unit and I opened the door, I was instantly overwhelmed again. It was worse than I remembered and somehow all of my clothes bins had been buried in the back despite that not being where I put them.

We decided the best course of action was to work our way to them. There were a bunch of boxes that technically had my things in them, but not full boxes, things that were mislabeled or crushed, and stuff I was fairly sure wasn’t mine but kept being told that it was mine.

She would work on stack, I’d start sorting through items. She’d find the empty boxes and just get them out of the way, or find a box to use for sorting donation items. She’d ask me some questions, and if I said I was staring to get overwhelmed, she’d find another task until I could answer her question or just left the overwhelm alone and didn’t circle back.

Eventually we cleared out almost to the center of the unit. She pushed me enough to finish what we could, but listened to anything I said was a boundary or hard stop. We spent about 3hrs in the storage unit and got more done than the last 3 years.

We pulled the broken furniture to the front, and took a few small boxes home for me to go through instead of dealing with the clothes. Made sure to drink lots of water.

She offered me the shower first, when I said it was fine I needed more time to transition to being able to take a shower, she just went and took the shower. Apologized when she thought she took too long. Asked if I needed anything done while I was in there.

When I got out she established a few asks for herself, but again with gentle reminders when I was getting distracted. “Hey, before you look for that, could we start heating up the snacks?”. Oh, yeah sure. Got that going, went back to the task. Stopped to eat. Decided I needed more of a break so we started watching movies and she reminded me later we both needed more protein, so we made another snack and watched another movie.

Eventually I was again regulated and started to sort through the boxes I brought back and everyone else did parallel play for me. Before that she validated how much work we did and that it was ok we didn’t get the planned tasks done, because the actual task was to make the unit less overwhelming and we did that. She reminded me that it was ok that I needed a longer break and distractions, because going through all those boxes is a lot. I’m having to process a ton of emotions and traumas when I’m looking and sorting and throwing away all those things.

She saw how much work I was doing, even the invisible work, and she not only acknowledged it but reassured me that she was fine that plans had changed and she was happy that she could be there to help me.

We had planned to head back to the storage the next day. At the very least to put the now clean ren faire clothes back in their box and tape up/correctly mark the boxes we had worked on the day before.

I couldn’t get going though.

I’ve been having this weird thing happen all day that when I stand up or change my elevation at all really, I get this sharp pain on the top of my head on the left side. Like I’m hitting my head or an ice pick is being driven down.

I tell her and she’s like ok, have you tried stretching your neck yet? No, so I lay on my neck stretcher for about 20mins. She lets me know that she’d be happy to massage my neck if I wanted. Thanks, I’ll try this first, go ahead and keep playing your game.

Seems to feel better, until I stand up. Same thing happens.

I sheepishly ask if she could rub a little cbd on the side that seems to be the issue. She responded in a positive way while also letting me know she needed to finish where she was in the game. Few minutes. No problem, I go grab the salve while she does that.

I ask if it’s easier for me to sit on the floor and she stay on the couch, etc. She confirms that’s more comfortable for her. We establish healthy boundaries of if she starts to feel pain, she needs to stop (she also has the same chronic illnesses I do) and I’ll let her know if it’s too much, etc.

When I tell you, that she spent over an hour (maybe 2 even) working on my neck and shoulders, I am not exaggerating. She broke down as many knots as she could. Gently telling me to stop apologizing and she was happy to help me feel better. Eventually we got in a rhythm of helping each other find the next issue or how to turn my head.

It’s the most relief I’ve had in a while with the pain in my shoulders and neck. She even gave me head scritches and a small face massage to help me transition from the deeper body work we were doing, to being done. She worked on my hands and forearms too.

We reestablished what the day should be like after that. Looking at her needs and mine. She needed to head home by 4pm. Awesome. I needed us to just tape things up and mark stuff, no extra push.

The pain in the top of my head is still happening every time I stand, so I don’t want to push whatever that is.

We decided it was way too hot when we get there and tape up the boxes from the house, put up the faire clothes, and decided everything else can wait for a different day. I’m no longer feeling overwhelmed by the space and feel confident I can back by myself as needed.

We picked up food and got her on the road by her needed time. We established she’d message when she got home.

When she did get home, we spent some time providing appreciation to each other and just overall some connection outside of everything else we did or talked about over the weekend.

I give this lengthy story to show myself what the bare minimum is.

Some would say that’s going above and beyond, but is it? I stated needs, she did what she could to meet those needs, and she adapted and helped me as those needs changed. I still respected her needs and kept them in mind and helped her achieve them without either of us sacrificing anything. We had some conversations and made some compromises, but that’s what they were, compromises.

No one was pushed beyond their limit.

No one felt unheard or abandoned.

No one was shut down or gaslit or told they needed to do something different or be something different.

We did what we could, and then we stopped.

But it wasn’t at the expense of either of us or the relationship/connection we have with each other.

We reminded each other that there was love and appreciation, and now we’re doing our own things for the rest of the night. We have future plans that we know we’ll talk about at some point, and we’re secure in knowing that there will be connection and contact even without that.

I have that with others too, even if I don’t see them as often as I would like or we don’t talk everyday. I’ve talked about that before, so I’ll try to not repeat all of it.

It’s important to remind myself that I am capable and have nourished and flourished in secure and safe connections, that are still going. If there’s misunderstandings, we talk it out. It is a team effort, and not an expectation for just one of us to do the majority of the labor. If one of us is unsure, we ask. The other provides reassurance. If we’re thinking about each other, we tell the other. If we haven’t heard from each other in awhile, we reach out.

I can have those things, and there are people that want/will provide them. In instances that they can’t, I never feel abandoned because they will always have a conversation with me about where they are and what they can do, and we figure it out together.

Because we’re important to each other.

Because there’s love there.

Because we know that love and connection is work, but it won’t and shouldn’t always feel like work.

I really needed someone to see me and to take care of me. Even for a little while. It’s not always going to be the person that I hope it will be, but there will always be someone there for me from my little circle.

They see and for the most part understand how much work I’m doing (and if they don’t understand exactly what I’m going through, they say that too, but still acknowledging my effort).

Someone can tell me no, and say nothing else and I will fall down a spiral. All I hear and feel is the rejection. Another person will say no, here’s why, here’s a thing I can do instead, and that spiral never happens. The boundary was clearly defined and they didn’t expect me to come up with alternatives, they told me their limits and we worked from that point.

When someone really understands how hard it is for me to ask for something I need, while they also need to respect their own energy and needs, and they can approach it with that level of kindness…It makes all the difference in the world to someone like me.

Sometimes it’s the smallest reframe or adjustment that can make the biggest impact.

In a lot of ways I am not that complicated of a person, because I will literally hand you a manual.

You just have to be willing and wanting to comprehend it.

Self Care vs Self Care(TM)

Late stage capitalism has its fangs and claws in just about everything. It really is no surprise that it found a way to monetize a persons healing journey.

Stressed? Buy a spa package!

Burned out? Go on vacation!

Feeling depressed? Retail therapy is the thing for you!

There’s this common theme for most conversations in the media now that in order to do self care you spend money. You’re still expected to buy your sense of peace and stay a cog in the machine.

It sounds like I’m invalidating those forms of self care. I am not. Sometimes those are very real and necessary forms for self care.

What doesn’t get highlighted as often are the forms of self care that are not necessarily centered around being a consumer. The decisions of trying to do daily hygiene because you haven’t been able to in a few days and now water from a shower hurts or making decisions that don’t feel good to make in general.

Somedays the very thought of water from a shower really does make my skin hurt so bad, I can’t stand the idea of being in there for even 5mins. Sometimes my “shower” is a shower wipe and spending 2hrs convincing myself I can hold my head under the detachable shower head for at least 2mins to wet it and rinse it.

Somedays I have to force myself to eat, and sometimes that self care looks like grabbing a safe food over a healthier food. No one talks about the shame you battle when making that self care decision. Like my options is to eat that frozen semblance of food or eat nothing at all and hurt my body even more.

Somedays I have to bargain with myself to be able to brush my teeth twice. Sometimes that looks like not brushing my teeth through all of the cycles because I’m overstimulated already and the full 2mins will make me more anxious and irritable.

Somedays the trauma is too loud, or the current situation is too close to a past one or not enough has changed from a previous situation that caused issues and talked through it. Sometimes people can’t or won’t meet your needs that would be better for everyone, so you choose the need that is not. Sometimes that need is a hard thing to ask for because you don’t necessarily want to go with that option but you’ve been burned out and exhausted for too long. You don’t have space and capacity for middle ground anymore, and go to the extreme end in order to protect yourself. And you know it hurts them too, not being able to talk to you for awhile in a form that’s more instant.

Self care is hard.

Self care is work.

At times it’s fucking brutal.

Disconnecting from people that I truly care about is the last thing I ever want to do, because I actually really need the connection and to not feel alone. But I will do it to protect myself when that person(s) or connection(s) isn’t able to be there for me and there hasn’t been enough change for me to feel secure again.

In session with Teapot today we talked about how hard it is to know the thing/things I really need to recover from burn out and it’s quite literally not an option. I’m trying to work on smaller steps with getting back to consistent self care but that has also been hard. It’s like my brain is pissed that I’m treating myself just like most people have through my life.

My body and brain stated a need, and I said nope, not possible. Pick something else. So it does, and again I tell it now. Because unfortunately reality, and not just because I don’t want to do it. I keep telling myself to whittle down my needs for trying to recover into smaller and smaller things. And because there’s this anger and resentment that I have to do that, I just don’t do anything. I’m frozen.

I know I need to get past this somehow. But it’s hard. Being kinder to myself sometimes means not forcing myself to do anything, even if I know it’s something I need to do.

I’m tired though. I’m tired of doing it all alone and this last year + I had really been trying to reach out more and ask for help. I needed people to step up more for me. And they can’t. In the case of my parents, won’t. So I resent that I continually have to be strong and enough for myself. That I can’t put things down.

I told Teapot that I saw an idea that I wanted to try of taking “No Growth Days”. Which means no growth. Not being my best self and getting to do the bare minimum all day. But then I realized I have no idea how to be/do the bare minimum. That even when I told Rochester I was stepping back and not covering the energy deficit while he is also burned out and exhausted, I kept finding myself still doing more. I kept trying to find different angles and come up with more possible solutions. I couldn’t manage more than a few days without once again working hard on myself and trying to find a place that felt comfortable to both of us.

I will constantly say in other situations that I can’t do something, and then it’ll be ignored by people like my parents and I find myself doing that thing anyway.

How to I rest and do the bare minimum when I’m the only one that will get things done? I would really like it if the care I give other people was reciprocated more often. But it’s not, and I don’t understand why. And I’m tired of always taking care of myself, and everyone else. I don’t even want to take care of myself anymore which is evident in the last year.

I’m trying to get back on track. I wrote a letter to myself last night. Validating my need for external help and validation, but just because I wasn’t getting it didn’t mean I stopped recognizing and appreciating myself. Which I had been doing.

I was no longer recognizing how much I was doing and working on. I didn’t realized it until Fairy Gay Mother mailed me a note. Telling me that despite the odds, I was still here, and still swinging.

Like fuck.

How many people would still be swinging after everything I’ve been through and it keeps piling on? How am I still doing it? No wonder I’m fucking tired and screaming for help.

I wanted help so bad, I stopped helping myself in a lot of ways.

I allowed people to recondition me into not taking up space, because it’s easier. It’s easier to not push for and stand up for the things I need. And now I’m edging into miserable again. Mainly because of where I am living.

It’s hard to get out of burn out and do self care when you don’t feel safe. When you’re not allowed to be more than whatever it is they want and if you step out of line, you get abused and triggered until you stop again. I told Teapot I’m to the point that I can no longer figure out what’s better for me. To not say anything, and let it happen so it stops faster, or to stand up for myself and risk unpredictable outbursts. I finally admitted to Teapot how unsafe I really feel here. Let’s just say there was a lot of notes typed out. I’m only allowed to exist here when they tell me I can. Though they’d never admit to that. They’d swear one way and another that it’s not true and of course I can xyz or abc.

Somedays self care means having to stay in a place like that, because making any other decisions will harm you even more in the long run.

Somedays self care is knowing what you need to do and have to do and taking another night of just watching a stupid show with your brother and his girlfriend.

Because in two days I going out to help my grandma, because no one else will help her with the things she needs. Because this week I asked Rochester to not text me while he’s on a trip and we haven’t found a balance for those times to not be triggering for me. Because my parents are coming back tomorrow and I’ll have to brace for the weekly big blow ups again.

I’m the one that always saves me. I can’t start letting myself down now. But I need to learn how to save myself with self care, even the hard kind, instead of running myself into the ground and further.

I don’t know how, and I don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ve heard from a very reliable source that the secret is, no one really knows what they are doing.

Lvl 37: Better Birthdays

Here’s to the hope and the bar being raised to birthdays being better.

This year was the first year I was able to actually spend my birthday with Rochester. Wasn’t able to happen in V1, last year was still feeling things out. It’s the first time we’ve spent either of our birthdays together.

He is very aware of how bad my birthdays usually are, and honestly did his best to make it a good one for me this year. It was really nice having someone reach out and regularly tell me how excited they were for my birthday.

I was lucky enough to actually get a whole week with him. I had some medical things that needed tending and pretty much all my doctors are in that area since I will move back. I swear to gawd I will. Anyway, I was able to start staying with him the night before the appointment, which relieved a lot of stress. It also gave me a safe space to go back to with the new stress.

Thoughts of that a few other things did cause a few roller coaster of emotions. Some we’re still dealing with right now, but overall I had a probably the best birthday I can remember.

We had cake almost everyday. It was a good cake! But also a cake that was for 20 people instead of 2. My brother, his girlfriend, and I finished it off over the last few days. It was finally defeated last night.

He made me breakfast every morning. Even when I asked for silly things.

We did have a bit of life happening/bad luck with the AC going out sometime Thursday night/Friday morning of that week. Was fixed by Monday, but did alter some plans and things I was going to ask for. Especially since the area was for once in the 90s. It was gross.

We started getting into a routine of when to open and close the house up. It was something that seems mundane but really helped me feel more comfortable. Falling into step easily with someone is not something that actually happens often for me. So being able to have those little moments. Getting up and saying good morning to the kitties, giving them some food, coming back to cuddle for a bit before starting work.

I get started first, doing all my morning routines for meds and POTs maintenance. Didn’t forget once! Then an hour or two later he would make me breakfast and I would get some kisses and we would both go back to work. The kitties would take turns on who was deemed worthy of their presence.

It was really nice to be able to just walk down the hall to give him hugs and kisses through out the day or the other way around. Flirting via text when we’re so close also made me happy.

Then after work we figure out dinner, and play video games, or his friends would come over to game. I made the one group dinner and it made me very happy to do that. To give him a break and take care of everyone. I like cooking for social groups even if I don’t participate in the rest. I got some solo time to read, journal, and play my own games while they continued a campaign.

If I had a request, he always tried to accommodate it. We got donuts from one of my favorite places! He spoiled me with the presents that I received. It was nice to both feel taken care of and seen in regards to those. I have a fancy new phone, which I have not fully looked at all the new features. The camera is super nice though, so I’m excited about that.

I also received some fancy writing items. A leather case for my hopefully growing fountain pen collections, and a really amazing writing desk. Both are from a smaller business in Turkey I think? I will have to look them up. I’ve been using both of those pretty much every day since we have started writing letters to each other as a way to connect while being long distance.

What I wanted to do was emphasized all that week. I just had an all around feeling of being taken care of that I don’t get often and from even fewer people.

There were a few bumps. Some things that poked a little a traumas. We have mostly talked about them. I am finding that I’m more easily disregulated when I’m needing to transition from time with him to going back “home”. “Home” isn’t safe. “Home” harms me almost every day.

In other news, a few friends sent me some gifts too. Sprinkles sent me a queer, fluffy, m/m fantasy graphic novel series to read. Am very excite. Fairy Gay Mother sent me an email that brought me to happy tears as pure usual, because I am still some how not used to being loved that much and told on a regular basis. My brother and his girlfriend got me a bunch of Yu-Gi-Oh cards which turned out to be very helpful later. I wound up spending almost an hour just going through them and attempting to sort them in a binder to try and regulate after a communication snag. I don’t know enough about the archetypes yet so I probably organized them poorly.

Overall, I can’t remember a birthday that was better. Most of my birthdays I have very small snapshots of memories around positive things and much larger, clearer memories of the traumas. I am really grateful for the time I had this year. To finally experience what it was like for a birthday to feel more normal, and what most people get regularly. I still let a lot of anxiety keep me from asking for some things or speaking up, but I’m hoping to be better about it next year.

36 was not an easy year. Most of them haven’t been.

In this last year there has been a lot of movement with finally getting answers about my health, but most of it isn’t good.

I’ve lost more people, and am having to watch family and friends also deal with life shortening health issues.

But I’ve also learned more about myself.

I’ve made some big steps in therapy. I also learned I have even more to take. Healing isn’t linear and all that.

I’ve known my worth, and now I’m recognizing when I start to let that slip.

I’m learning where my edges are. How to make boundaries. When to repeat them, and when it.is.not.worth it.

I’m learning to accept where I am and how I need to take care of myself. To not talk down to my body because it’s sick. It’s ok to get frustrated sometimes, but there’s enough people in the world that probably have something bad to say about it, I don’t need to add to it.

I’m continuing to find the joy in every small thing that I can. No one ever knows how much time they have here.

I’m not where I imagined I would be at 37. This isn’t what I was hoping for or wanted for myself. I am tired. Soul and bone level exhausted and not many people are willing to see it and even less try to truly understand where I am. What I am going through on a daily, hourly, minute basis.

37 is hitting me really hard. I find that I’m having to work even harder to not feel resentful this last year or to make some truly stupid decision just so I can escape where I am. Sometimes it feels like my only choices are an emotionally abusive house, that I physically don’t feel safe in, or poverty again. But at least with the poverty, maybe other parts of me could heal. It would mean giving up a lot of things I do still need though.

I don’t know where 37 is taking me. Or if I can manage any of things I hope to do for the next year. I know I need to keep practicing being kind to myself. I know I need to finish dismantling my internalized ableism and fully accept that I am disabled. No matter how much some people think just telling me I’m “strong” or I’ve “got this”. I’m not. I don’t. I do and will always need some form of help. It’s hard knowing that the majority of the time, I won’t be able to get help either. Which is why I’m still burned out.

I’m going to do what I can, and then stop.

I will keep doing that every day, and sometimes I won’t.

Unclenching is work too.

Some day…some day, maybe, I will have a home that is safe, and live the cozy, loving life I have always dreamed of having.

Another Day, Another Vet Visit

Elder dog needed another check up today. Had to check her med levels. Luckily not another blood test. That would have made today even more expensive.

Vet feels like she’s headed in the right direction, but we’re increasing her dose again for the cushings meds, since she’s still getting a lot of sores and there’s been no change in her water intake or frequency on going outside. Also changing how we give her the anti inflammatory. Hoping to help the weakness in her back legs a little more.

I’m exhausted.

Between her health and my health, there’s most night I just want to cry, and do. It’s hard to take care of her the way she needs right now when my own body is having so many issues. She can’t use the dog door anymore, which means needing to get up constantly to let her in and out. Which causes issues with the POTs for me. She also can’t jump up and down from anything anymore which means picking her up and putting her down from the couch and bed and car.

At least she’s started sleeping through the night again. No more panting for 3-4hrs every night. I’m finally starting to get 5ish hours of sleep between her settling down and my own meds being changed up.

Good things and bad things and some things in between.

I also haven’t had to watch a pet actually decline in a way like this. It’s definitely taking its toll.

Today I had grand plans to get more chores done. I started moving things out of the way during my lunch break, but after the vet visit and finally getting my dinner made…I’m back to being so tired I want to cry.

Teapot said the crying will become less eventually. I hope they’re right.

Speaking of, tomorrow is my next session with Teapot. Back to focusing on the topic I would rather not but taking advantage of complete privacy for once.

At least I have enough leftovers in the fridge to throw something together. Usually I would order take out as a therapy treat, but this trip to the vet determined I will not have takeout money. Still waiting on the new dose of her med to pay for too.

Someday I’ll be able to pay everything off.

Someday I’ll be able to get to a safe space.

Birthday Brain and Presents

I’m sure if I go back through posts, it will be confirmed that this is usually around the time my brain starts the anxiety about my birthday. I think it’s also because, for whatever reason this time of year tends to throw major triggers for me outside of that, and the birthday always becomes the “smallest” trauma that is safest to focus on.

I know it’s also because I’m trying to actively break out of the trauma cycle regarding it. I tried really hard last year. I know I took some steps away from it too. Did it go as I had really wanted? No. Did people once again center themselves and try to make me feel like shit about and on my actual birthday? Yes. Did I still end up finding some joy for once? Yes.

Last year was my first step towards healing. It wasn’t on my actual birthday. But I finally got to do something that I solely wanted to do. It was with someone who cares about and loves me, and made sure that what I was wanting to do for my birthday was the priority. My little brother is pretty awesome.

Last year I was hopeful. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. This year I had started out hopeful in a different direction, but there’s things that have happened already that are quickly crumbling that hope. I’m almost in an out of body experience around the trauma and watching myself wanting to completely shut down any attempts about my birthday this year. Which sucks, because I was actually really excited about it for once just a couple of weeks ago.

And since my brain is constantly on the spiderwebs on connectivity, it led me to start focusing on presents. Both giving and receiving.

I understand that for most, when I have a real connection with them, my gift giving can feel like a lot. Sometimes on the scope, sometimes on the volume. Part of me understands that this is slightly a trauma response. Part of me also understands that part of it is just me. I think the trauma may amplify it? Or maybe the unmasking is doing that too?

I am getting better about looking at my motives for buying gifts or making them. The trauma definitely tells me I have to in order to prove I’m worthy of someone liking me or wanting to keep me around. I know now that’s not true. So I try to check in with myself about the why and the what. What is my motive and what is the outcome I’m hoping for? If those answers don’t line up with who I’m healing towards, I put the gift down.

I went on a rant to Rochester about my parents (especially my mother) and their gift giving. Often my wishlist is completely ignored and I’m bought things that I didn’t even want or have interest in. Sometimes that’s not true. Sometimes it’s something I wouldn’t have thought of and do actually enjoy, but it’s too often the latter.

My brother is one of the examples of being great at picking out gifts for me that I didn’t know I had wanted or asked for, but shows he pays attention to who I am and what my interests are.

The thing I realized and have known for a couple of years now, is that the main reason it bothers me is that gift receiving generally shows me exactly how much someone truly knows and sees me. Sometimes it also shows me how much effort a person is putting into the connection in general. Observations I don’t share most of the time, because I also don’t want anything to feel like an obligation or pressure. It has helped me really identify the people that do not value me or are using me though. It’s more like a confirmation to things I already suspected. Those times really suck.

Growing up, my dad had a rule about not being able to ask for presents that were necessities. I’m sure that’s deeply rooted in his own childhood. He’s gotten a little more lax about that recently, but it’s a problem. Presents were also on a bargaining and like “advance” system. “I’ll get you this now, but that’s your birthday present” 4 months before your birthday or something. Sometimes you still got something small on the actual day or holiday though. That’s also changed a bit as he’s been in a better place financially etc. but it’s still very much there.

One thing that I notice happens with a lot of people is how the worthiness is based on their personal bias. Like if I say, I don’t want physical things, but what would help me is paying down a credit card or fixing something on my car, that request gets ignored. And it boggles my mind.

Specifically, the way that others classify and determines a gift. Like why ask me what I would like, and then tell me that you’re not willing to do that because it’s money or food or whatever else. I understand having a budget, that’s totally fine. I understand wanting to help someone value themselves as well. But it’s a tricky spot to dismiss someone if they’re truly asking for what they want or need in that moment.

I specifically have a wishlist for items I do want, in case someone wants to get me a physical, material item or if they have a preference for working off a wishlist. But if you outright ask me what kind of gift I want, I would hope that request is respected or leads to a respectful conversation.

I do also try to just actually say things that I would really like. I do have to understand that most people are not going to file it away like I do though. That’s part of how my brain works. Squirreling away information to later make people feel happy, seen, and taken care of.

Things I wish for.

There were more to these thoughts, but the ripples of sadness are back. So I’m going to go cry this out into a bowl of Corn Pops.