i think i'm broken

i've been feeling today that i'm beyond damaged, that i'm in fact broken. beyond repair. completely worn out.

i want to act like it's all okay, like i was just overtired, that it's the stress of it being christmas eve again.

even after trying to explain my feelings, and to explain to Pooh-Bear via my writing what i felt my voice was not conveying, i feel like... that the air is still not clear i guess.

he says the same things i've been hearing over & over & over again from family members, roomates, partners, friends: "i don't know why you can't just ___ when it's so easy," and "i told you it's a problem for me, i don't understand why you just can't fix it," and "it's pretty simple what i want, and it would take like 20 minutes. you should just do it."

he said after reading my blog (this blog) he knew exactly how i felt, and that there was nothing there (here) i hadn't already spoken to him about, and that he had felt the exact same way, and he knew how to fix it.

i understand people wanting to help. it's tempting to see someone in need, feel you have something to offer, and just jump in to fix the problem, but that kind of attitude not only doesn't fix anything, it doesn't afford the recipient any dignity. a number of years ago a speaker at my university spoke about the importance of language, and about treating others with respect, and he told an anecdote about his nephew, and the nephew's classmate who uses a wheelchair. one day said speaker dropped off his nephew at school, and ahead of them the classmate emerged from wheel-transit, and proceeded to get stuck in the heavy slush that covered the side of the road, the sidewalk, and the pathway to the front door of the school. the speaker watched as his nephew approached the young girl, spoke to her, then went on his way without rescuing her from the slush. angrily he jumped out of his car, and began to berate the nephew for leaving his classmate to struggle alone. he was struck silent when his nephew replied, "i said good morning and asked if she needed a hand. she said 'no thanks.' i wouldn't just grab her wheelchair and start pushing her around when she's perfectly capable of doing things herself."

i feel like someone's grabbed my wheelchair every time they start telling me how to fix my life, arrange my apartment, or recover from depression. i get so angry, and sometimes i end up telling them off, and the usual response i get is that if i didn't want help i shouldn't whine about it. for fucks sake, telling someone i'm having a bad day isn't inviting them to launch into an intervention.

just once i'd like someone to actually ask me what i'm working on, how i'm doing it, and take a genuine interest in the process - instead of offering specific help i don't even want.

this is my secret too...

(from PostSecret)

an american thanksgiving

jack & jill went up the hill to get a piece of ass
jack knelt down, jane turned round -
they both came hard & fast.

happy saturday lolz

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word makes tiny smiley faces...

i met this morning with my worker from the CMHA (Canadian Mental Health Association) and it was rather productive. i’ve be relapsing in a big way the last few months, and it really has been overdue for me to get back on track. we spoke at length about where i’ve lost it, and made some goals about how to get me feeling more in control of my life, and my recovery.

the first priority really needs to be getting me out of the house. i’ve gone days at a time – even weeks – without going farther than the paring lot of my complex. last week i had started back at the gym, but all it took was one day missing a workout to send me back to hermiting away from the world again. i can’t rely on other people to get me out. not only is it not really empowering myself, but it’s not fair to anyone else either to make them responsible for keeping me on track. i certainly appreciate all the efforts made by friends and workers to get me out, but really i need to be stepping up to do it myself.

so i started on a list of things to do this week to get me out & about:
- to pharmacy for menstrual supplies
- to the bookstore for a few Yule gifts
- to the downtown mall to get Unicef cards
- to the post office for stamps
- to anywhere to purchase toilet paper before i run out this weekend ☺
- run over to friends’ house to look after beady-eyed knee-sock (ferret)

i also started a list of things to help me get ready for working:
- purchase a new second-hand pair of pants for winter & job hunting
- do 3 loads of laundry to catch up and have nice clothes ready to wear
- empty my voicemail at least every other day
- update my resume for retail work
- shower at least every other day
- collect list of places hiring in the downtown

i still need to work out ways to be more sociable with friends & family. i spoke with a really close friend for close to an hour tonight on the phone, and it felt really good. i still got all anxious part-way through the conversation, and lately that’s been happening with even my primary partner. i don’t know if it’s because i spend so much time alone that i feel like i have nothing to say, or that i’m again so fearful of saying something stupid… i still can’t find my copy of “Mind Over Mood” and i fear it may have been lent out never to return, so when i go to the bookstore tomorrow for prezzies, i think i’l just buy another copy. even though CBT doesn’t do a whole lot for OCD, it takes a huge bite out of anxiety and depression, and since i know it works for me, it’s worth the investment to have a second copy. if i were to find the original somewhere, it’d just be a fantastic resource to lend out to friends, are give away to someone who could benefit.

we also spoke about my difficulty with my anxiety just before bedtime. it’s definitely the worst time of day, starting usually about 7pm, about 4 hours before i take my normal dose of medication. i think it’s the time of day when my blood levels of meds drop, but breaking up the dose never seems to work terribly well for my sleep schedule either. i need to talk with my primary physician about getting another prescription for atavan. even though it can have a depressive effect when used regularly, just taking it once a week before bed helps keep my sleep on track a bit, and it more than halves my anxiety for a good 3-4 days after every dose. definitely worth it for me, since anxiety is my biggest cause of depression any how.

that means my last list, phone calls i need to make includes:
- book appointment with primary physician, psychiatrist
- check availability of CBT classes to register for come January
- follow up with potential employer from last interview
- call friend re: knitting
- call friend re: gym tomorrow morning; ferret sitting
- call date about Saturday night (that’s a whole ‘nother entry…)
- call mom about addresses for x-mas cards

phew. i think that’s all i immediately need to get out of my head. my worker and i agreed taking time to journal and get all the crap out of my head before i lay down with thoughts spinning is a better way to help with sleep, than trying to get up and write once i’ve already laid down. so get ready for regular posts kids ☺

really, it's therapy...

i have no idea what was so important about this graph, or why i felt it was related to therapy, so here's a random unfinished post!!

i'd hug Hugo Weaving...

more lol celebs!

really? it's halfway through november?

so in spite of being tired physically, my mind just will not quiet down tonight. it’s a bit of a racing monkey mind most nights as i lay down to sleep, but today (well really all week) it’s been particularly active. perhaps it’s the moon phase – we are in Gemini still i believe – but regardless of the reason, it’s chatter, chatter, chatter.

i really must begin leaving a notepad and pen/marker/pencil/crayon next to the bed, so that on nights such as this i can roll over and purge all the little “aha!”s and “what if?”s from my mind. i know there is a near-endless supply of them in there, but generally if i can get a bunch out, eventually my mind begins to tire, or wander, and soon sleep comes.

this blog was intended for just such a purpose. it was my hope that i would use it as a journal, as a way of marking and revisiting my progress, and as a way of sharing with others whose journeys may be similar to my own. instead it’s become somewhat of a chore. something which hangs over my head as one more thing ‘to do’, and far too much effort to get back into.

it just seems that those times i most need self-care are exactly the times it falls apart. those times i most need friends around for hugs, smiles, and a reason to get out of the house are the times i feel most compelled to turn off the phone and just hide. those times i would benefit most from a walk, or some asanas, or a work-out are the times i just want to go back to bed. it’s when i most need to write and clear my mind that opening my laptop, or even just picking up a pencil feels so difficult.

my most recent bout of depression – which i’m not convinced i’m not out of yet – has been dominated by the theme of me not speaking up. i haven’t been talking about how i’ve been feeling. i haven’t been asking for what i need. i haven’t been expressing my hurts, my fears, my angers. i haven’t been speaking really at all. i stopped signing into facebook entirely, i just stopped email and calling most of my friends, and worst of all, i just threw up my hands and walked away from those i was dating without even a goodbye. i couldn’t find the words to express how i was feeling. i struggled with what to say so as to not hurt anyone’s feelings. i struggled so long that weeks began to pass without me saying anything, until finally it seemed better to say nothing at all – if only to save myself the shame of trying to explain how i could just cut off communication.

i wish i could say i was sorry, and i wish i could mean it. but sorry to me means, “i’m sorry that i hurt you, i’ve realised what i’ve done wrong, and have figured out a way to do it differently next time.” the problem is that i am sorry for hurting others, and i know it’s selfish, self-destructive, and probably a whole lot of other things too, but i just don’t know that i won’t do it again. in fact, at this point i feel like it’s an incredible likelihood that i’ll just run away from everyone with regularity, each time a depressive episode hits.

my support worker – gods love her – just showed up at my house last week to check in on me. i had been avoiding her calls, not returning her calls, and eventually my in-box filled. thankfully she popped by to check in on me, and she said she had seen me unravelling over the last couple of months. i felt really relieved to hear her say it. i felt like each time i expressed a sensation of backsliding in my recovery, she would encourage me to call my psychologist, or my physician, just keep at it, etc. at the time i felt like she was glossing over my fears, my sense of losing control, but now i realise she was just trying to steer my back on course. as she said, i’m someone who has struggled for years with mental illness, and probably always will, and therefore i need to be someone who stays on top of it. i need to keep reminding myself of all the wonderful skills and resources i have in me, and around me. i need to keep reminding myself that when i feel the least like doing something i know is good for me, that’s the time i need it most.

curse of the boyfriend sweater

at least that's what some folks call it: curse of the boyfriend sweater. in my case it's not just sweaters, and it's not just boyfriends of course either. whatever you want to call it though, the cold hard fact is that any time i have endeavored to knit for someone i was involved with romantically, we have broken up before item was off the needles.

first it was the ex-cheerleader girlfriend, and a gorgeous chunky varieg ated wool scarf in a beautiful basket weave. i wore the scarf after the break-up with the ends left unfinished - until it was stolen at the library. next it was the "left" & "right" mittens for the boy i hand-fasted to. i got just past the thumb on the second mitten, and the first line of the colour way. next it was the overly long green ribbed scarf for a best-friend-turned-lover, with 3 stripes of orange snowflake yarn at either end, and a ridiculously long fringe. i got all through 150+ cm of scarf to the last few stripes when we broke things off.

so you can perhaps understand my apprehension with ever knitting for someone ever again. the last time i got up the gumption to knit for a girlfriend i had explained to her about this curse, and told her i would only knit her the requested legwarmers if she promised to avoid breaking up with me at least until they were done. we had a good laugh about it, and she assured me no break-up was in our near future anyhow. when we split rather abruptly just a few weeks later, she paused in mid-sentence, and with a look of genuine regret, said, "i'm sorry about the legwarmers..." i was a mere inch away from finishing the second one. that was 3 years ago.

::added later to finish post::
so i decided to knit Pooh Bear a scarf. and finish it before he arrived in Canada. and it was really therapeutic. i cried in frustration. i felt terrified. i almost gave up a few times. i ripped back & reknit entire sections. but i finished it. and gave it to him, utterly completed. even though the relationship ended so horribly, i am grateful that i was able to lift the curse of the boyfriend sweater while we were together. projects are a lot easier to complete now.

ai luves mai monsturz

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ai'm giphted, wat's yorr exkoose?

i've decided the next particular piece i need to work on is gifts. like many people i have trouble accepting gifts, and help of any kind. i have trouble asking for what i need & want, and in particular i have trouble asking for what i need and want. unlike most people, however, i also have trouble giving.

it's not just giving in general that i struggle with, it's giving presents in particular. the struggle that's come up of recent was sparked by a discussion in my pagan circle about giving a particular circle member cash for her birthday, so that she could afford to go to particular festival. we've done this once before, and though i was gung-ho the first time, this time i've really struggled with what to do about it. it's no secret that i'm not working regularly right now, and that cash is stretched thin. this member is also unempolyed, living on disability, and while i'd like to help her reach her goals, i just don't think cash is the way to go. i like to give gifts that are useful, practical, and benefit the recipient in some way, but cash just seems a bit... tacky? hollow? i want to give a gift that is thoughtful and personal, and cash just seems really obvious... and i dunno. i don't like money exchange between friends.

in general i struggle with gift-giving when it comes to specific dates. things like birthdays and holidays feel like deadlines, and i always want to give something meaningful. i struggle with anxiety around wanting to give enough to convey how much i care about someone, without giving so much as to make it uncomfortable. i tend to pick up things as i see them, and as i think of someone, and as a result i have about 4-5 gifts sitting in my house waiting to reach their recipients at any one time. i also have numerous unfinished presents at any one time, made worse when the date passes, and i then feel like i need to have the exact perfect gift, now that the deadline has passed. i also have trouble finishing projects, so i usually have a bunch of unfinished presents in varying stages waiting to be finished and then given away.

anyways, i've decided it's time to look differently at gift giving. i need to resolve my need for perfection. i need to learn to give joyfully without guilt that it may not be "just right", or on time, or whatever other impositions i put on myself. i'm going to start tomorrow, with finishing wrapping a present that has been ready for weeks now, buying the gift i'd like to give rather than the cash that feels expected, and ordering a few things i had been meaning to get for folks. i also need to work out a system, or location in my house to keep all the gifts together so that they are ready to go when i want to give them :)

hurrah!

oh shanks! ai wundered wair dey wuz...

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perpetewull moshun

i'm feeling really raw this morning. last night - yesterday really i suppose - was incredibly intense, and this morning i'm still processing it all. i know writing it all down is important. i know i need to document my progress in some way. and yet even describing it in text is triggering. i've been zoning in and out while typing, picking at my skin, pulling hairs, cleaning my nails: all the little compulsions that start whenever i'm feeling anxious. i realise part of it is probably also that i'm tired, that i had a glass of wine last night before talking into the wee hours of the morning, but i can't deny that i've been typing for almost half an hour, and there is only a literal dozen words in the next paragraph. this paragraph has grown as i document my struggles with typing, but i really want to just save what i've written and go back to bed. i'm going to type for 25 more minutes, and see if i can't get past this anxiety. if it's still feeling unbearable, i'll take a break and come back to it.

so i tried to finish writing, and then happily got bounced by a call from my pooh-bear. i decided instead of trying to finish getting down the whole story, i would just finish writing about the aftermath, and when i've gotten through that, i'll go back and eventually finish the deets. even now i'm finding it hard to focus - and to leave the tweezers in their case.

i sometimes find it incredible just how much more progress one can make on issues that seemed to be resolved. it's hopeful. the issue in this case is a sexual assault that took place more than 16 years ago, when i was just 13 years old. just a few days ago i signed into facebook only to have a "people you may know" recommendation that nearly made me vomit. there he was, with 5 mutual friends. the man who raped me. i looked at our mutual friends. i clicked on the link for his profile, only to find it set to private. i thought about blocking him. months ago when i first signed up for facebook i had searched for him, so that i could preemptively block him, but didn't find him. this time i didn't block him.

i decided to just leave him there, in my list of people i may know. why? because he has had far too much power over me for far too long. he has effected my sex life, my ability to trust men (male partners in particular), my body image, and so much more. not just the rape itself, but the abuse that lead up to it, and followed it, have placed so many triggers in me. for the most part i thought i had found them all, and some i've even disarmed. as i stepped into the shower after seeing his face for the first time in 8 years, i cried. and i resolved he will no longer control even part of my life.

it was just a few days later when during an intense conversation with my pooh-bear i would start to explain to him that yes, he had upset me. yes, i was beside myself. yes, i was sobbing uncontrollably, but that i realised 95% of my pain was due to wrongs committed in the past by others, and that my reaction was disproportionate to what had triggered it just now. amazingly i managed to keep going in the conversation, and as i pushed further and further back into my baggage, i realised where the whole issue began. and it began with that rape.

without question my pooh has been instrumental in helping me work through stuff. his clear statements that i matter to him, his assertion that i my happiness & and safety are important to him, and most especially that his actions back up his words have been paramount in some of the inroads i've made over the last few weeks. that being said, i must give myself credit. even a year ago that same conversation would have ended with me hanging up, and sobbing myself to sleep. at some point i would likely have blurted out something horrible - such as i'm so upset because you remind me of this guy that raped me - which would have been not only hurtful & untrue, but impossible to take back. the work i've done with exposure exercises has proven effective in reducing not only my anxiety with compulsions and obsessive thoughts, but also with confronting some deep traumas. i'm awesome :)

iz lurve...

betteh awlreddie

i got an awesome visit from a friend who reads my blog after my last post. she showed up and took me out for chai and a chat, which was exactly what i needed. i know it was kinda passive-aggressive, only not aggressive at all :p - to post what amounts to a cry for help, but hey, asking for help any way is progress in and of itself.

backsliding is still better than heading into the deep dark pit of despair with no hope at all, because at least now i have some firm ideas of how to get back out, and i know i've done it before. that's supposed to sound hopeful, but it does still ring a little hollow. i'm not going to pretend that i just need to give myself a pep talk and i instantly feel better, but it does help a bit.

i stumbled via another blog, then a link to another, to another, etc, upon a blogger who also has SAD*, and he wrote about dragging his light out, as he's already feeling symptoms come on. it made me realise that much of what i've been feeling the last few weeks is probably in fact just that. symptoms of something i already have a diagnosis for. i've been so worried about my on-again-off-again appetite, my loss of interest in sex, my exhaustion, my headaches, my crying fits, thinking surely this must be a brain tumour after all, when really it all points to an early start to SAD season. i generally start using my light on the Equinox, and get my supplements and vitamins in order for then too, and it hit me that with 18 straight days of rain, followed by moping indoors, my brain has decided it is already autumn. so tomorrow morning when the cats ask for breakfast, i'm draggin my sorry ass out of bed to the couch to watch yoga and shine the SAD light on my face. it's a start.

*Seasonal Affective Disorder

runninks jest as fast as ai kan, holdinks onto nobudee's handz...

i'm feeling stuck, as though i'm not moving. at the same time, i'm aware that my backslide is picking up speed, and that i'm running farther and farther away from everyone i love (at least in my head). i've decided with certainty to break up with one of my partners, and the boy has as well. i'm torn between suggesting we talk with her together - so at least when she tells us to fuck off 5 minutes into the conversation we have each other to talk with - and just not speaking to her again. it's not even because it would be easier to avoid the likely conflict, it's that i resent spending time and money going to see her, putting the effort into arranging a meeting, when she'll probably run out in tears, or just scream at me. i just don't care enough to invest the resources when it won't matter to her what i say, and when i know i don't even care enough to follow after her if she bolts.

i know i'm depressed. the signs are all there. i've stopped showering for the most part. i've stopped masturbating. i wear the same clothes for days on end. i forget to eat day after day. last week i had raging diarrhea for 4 solid days (pun not particularly intended, but humorous none-the-less) along with stuffy nose, headaches, nausea and achy back, and i just laid about, ignoring the phone, and emails, and everything else. i'm down to checking voicemail once a week or less, and i've just stopped trying to reply to messages, or even leave the house most of the time. obviously the virus took a lot out of me, but it's more than that. the other day my legs gave out and i fell, just feeling really light-headed and weak. it was then i realised it was 9pm, and i hadn't eaten. i had a white bagel with margarine and salt at some point through the night, but beyond that i couldn't really remember the last time i ate. even after that wake-up call and the end of the nausea, i've been struggling to find the enthusiasm for food.

i'm really not making decisions at all either. i had so many plans this past weekend, 3 close friends celebrating their birthdays, a grandfather turning 80, the breakup to carry out, a cousin's moving away party, a girlfriend's moving to a different city party, a stag & doe party, and a coffee date with a dear friend i've been putting off for a week or more. so friday i logged into facebook for the first time in a while, and realised that the girlfriend's party was in fact about to start, not the following night as i had thought. and i just broke down. i sent her a hurried note, expressing my desire to see her before she went back to school, but i haven't been back to check if she replied. i'm so afraid that she'll be upset, or that she'll know i want to break up with her primary that she won't want to see me again. and unlike her girlfriend, this is a woman i have really strong feelings for.

i cried and hid in my house, and then instead of planning the rest of the weekend out so i could see as many other loved ones as possible, i just avoided them all. in my head i'm sure most of my fears are totally unreasonable, and that my nearly overwhelming desire to self-harm is compulsion. that knowledge doesn't seem to be undoing their effectiveness. i justified not contacting the cousin who is moving away by telling myself the party would be too overwhelming. i avoided the stag & doe because i wouldn't know many people there. i didn't even message back the friend who i was meeting for coffee when she wished me luck on my MRI, let alone to meet her for drinks. i told myself i was still feeling crummy so i'd be a drag if i followed along on another friend's birthday adventures, besides there were multiple events planned for the weekend, and i couldn't remember which day was actually her b-day, because there was so much going on. i was told the main party for my grandfather was not to include grandkids, so i decided to not even try for a visit yesterday. in the end i felt like such an asshole, and that noone could even possibly want to hear from me, that i didn't call a single person all weekend. and now the likelihood that i've hurt and worried everyone makes me so anxious that it feels easier to just not call or message any of them ever again.

i'm in such a self-deprecating headspace that i find myself re-questioning all of my relationships, and wanting to bow out. i didn't see a dear friend for most of the summer, and when i finally did i felt so distant from her that much of the time i'm absolutely certain she wants to end our friendship. she's not said anything directly - and is totally the kind of person who would - but my anxious mind keeps adding up all the little things into a feeling that i have nothing left to offer her, except maybe free babysitting. fuck that sounds so shitty, like she's taking advantage of me or something, but it's just the opposite. she's got new & old people in her life that are doing all the things i used to do with her before the summer, and i'm broke, emotionally raw, and lonely. how could i possibly be any fun to have around.

i want to call and cancel all of my appointments this week. i want to skip the first drum class i had been hoping to attend. i want to turn off the phone, set my facebook status to crazy and just check out. i know i feel impossibly lonely and isolated right now, and i know it's of my own doing. i also know that getting out of the house and actually being around people again is probably exactly what i need. every time i reach out though, i feel so awkward and guilty. i say all the wrong things. i haven't said the right things when friends have emailed their own bad news. i haven't been excited enough when they've sent me good news. i've read all the messages, then just sat here feeling useless. part of me hopes that i do have a brain tumour, and that it's big enough they can't treat it, and that way i'll stop laying around consuming resources, without giving anything back.

beet uv a kwandree

heh, kitteh pidgen cracks me up. anywho, i realise i have done little writing on the blog of late with respect to relationships, and it's time for an update - else my quandary will make little sense. in a nut shell, the woman i had been seeing casually has become a regular fixture in my life, and her girlfriend has as well. the high school boyfriend is now dating all three of us, and for the most part it's going really well. all three of them live in a different city than i, but the same city as each other, and i like it that way. i still don't feel like i'm ready for the kind of intense relationship i'd classify as a primary partnership, and this allows me to keep them all at arm's length.

so here's my quandary. i'm at the point when i would be running away usually. i've gotten to the point where the initial enthusiasm has waned, and i fear that i may have overestimated the others' desire to be with me. i fear that this is not much more than casual hooking up, and that my understanding of it as dating was somehow... i dunno. that i was just wrong in how everyone else feels about me. at the same time, i'm starting to doubt my feelings for each of them, i think as a way of putting distance between us. mostly i'm questioning my feelings for one of the women in particular, or rather my commitment to seeing her. i just don't feel enthusiastic about going to visit her. i don't feel like putting any effort into talking with her. i just...don't feel like it's worth the effort. i just don't feel like she's worth the effort.

so i suppose that doesn't seem like much of a quandary. except i only want to break up with this one partner, and i want to keep seeing her girlfriend. and our mutual boyfriend. i think if she treated me shittily alone, i would think it's just me, but it's all of us. and i don't want things to be awkward if i break up with just her - between myself and the other two that is. i wish i knew how everyone else is feeling, and if they see her jerkiness the way that i do too. i kinda wish we could just all three us dump her ass and be happy without her.

watt's goinks awn?

i've noticed, or rather it has been brought to my attention, that many of the very spiritual people i know have been having a really difficult run of late. some of it is financial, but much of it is poor health of self and immediate family. household upheavals seem common, as do dramatic schisms with friends & lovers (or would-be lovers). i'm trying to remain positive about it, and focus on the hope that change is just around the corner, perhaps with tonight's full moon.

my anxiety has been steadily increasing lately as i continue on this job-hunting pursuit. i'm positive that it's mostly due to my own avoidance and procrastination. the more i avoid things that make me anxious, of course, the more anxious i become. i've let myself get really overwhelmed by the sheer volume of things hanging over my head, and rather than calmly and deliberately carving away at the list, i've gotten back into the mode of laying in bed feeling terribly overwhelmed, crying and/or worrying myself to sleep.

there's so much superawesomeness in my life right now, so i'm going to give myself a shift of head space by cultivating some gratitude:
* i'm so grateful that a dear friend is home safe & sound from her journeys, and has brought her bestest friend back with her. she so deserves to be surrounded by love & adoration.
* i'm so grateful that my companion animals are in good health, and happier than ever.
* i'm so grateful i live in such a vibrant community with neighbours who have become some of my closest friends, and teachers.
* i'm so grateful that i live in a country where medicare is covered by our government, and where i have access to so many medical resources.
* i'm so grateful to be going for an MRI to examine my pituitary & thyroid glands, so we can hopefully, finally, get to the bottom of my health problems.
* i'm incredibly grateful that the most likely cause of my dis-ease is a benign pituitary growth, and that the tumour can be treated easily with oral medications.
* i'm terribly grateful that i bought a hand drum in the spring, and that the practice has been making me a more confident, capable drummer.
* i'm so very grateful that i have Reiki.
* i'm so very very grateful that my grandfather's health & mind are improving on the new medication for Alzheimer's. i'm so glad he is so happy.
* i'm so grateful i have so many skills, and so much experience at my disposal, that i will be able to find, and do, meaningful work in the very near future.

ai kynda wishes dey made dis magazeen...

Cute overload, teh blog that i love, posted the following not so long ago...

werk out

today i officially started my job search. or at least i started the process off beginning a job search. i've been gradually exposing myself to job-hunting anxiety to get myself ready, by looking through government job postings and narrowing them down to things i might actually like to apply for. then i sit and read them and think about how i might apply. what the job might be like to do.

i know that the resume building process is one of the most difficult aspects for me, so i'm meeting with a worker at a local employment assistance organisation to find out exactly what kinds of services they offer, and to get their support as i embark on this process. i'm excited. i'm terrified. i'm tired. so i rebooked until monday, so i can have a nap and not risk over sleeping my appointment. hopefully by then i will have found an old resume or two, so perhaps i can even begin working on it after the appointment monday. it would certainly be awesome.

happeh noo moon

just an hour ago, the moon went into her darkest phase. at this point, the moon appears almost completely missing from the sky. it's a powerful time for many of us following a pagan path; a time to begin new things, and to consider new directions. i've been doing a lot of thinking, but not so much doing.

it's not just this blog i've been neglecting, it's everything. i can't even remember the last time i checked my phone messages. i was away for a few weeks, and kinda made that my excuse for checking - long distance and roaming charges - but still haven't done it since returning. i've been avoiding calling my psychologist, the one who deals specifically with my OCD. i've also been using far more in the way of intoxicants than i usually do. just marijuana and alcohol, but in much larger quantities than i generally do. i've even considered taking some that i've never taken before - ecstasy in particular - and that worries me a little. i've been seeing a woman in another city somewhat casually for a few months now, and she and her girlfriend are huge partyers. hedonists. addicts perhaps even? i'm tempted to use some of the drugs they use when we are together, and i know i really need to examine why that is. is it to feel accepted into the group? is it to try and make myself more appealing to this woman i am crazy about? and her girlfriend i am also very interested in? is it to quell the anxiety i sometimes feel about being the only sober one around? is it because sometimes i still feel like a real square?

okay. so the possible healthy benefits of trying ecstasy are: 

- confronting my anxiety that any chemical drugs would immediately, permanently turn me into a paranoid schizophrenic, or at least exacerbate my current OCD & depression to the point of making me unable to function.

- experiencing a change in awareness that could deepen my spiritual being

- having fun with people i care about

the possible unhealthy consequences of trying ecstasy are:

- possible negative, serious, even potentially life-threatening drug interaction between e and my current psychiatric medications

- long-term cognitive or behavioural changes as a result of use (anxiety!!)

- breaking down of my own barriers/standards to make me more appealing to someone i like, leaving me feeling weak-willed & pathetic, plus less able to stand up for myself when necessary

i also have serious political objections to many of the available street drugs, that i just can't brush aside, and that i can't satisfy with unregulated drugs. for example, cocaine doesn't come in fair-trade certified. i don't have access in any way to knowledge if this particular coke has helped fund a violent coup of a democratically elected socialist government, or a help arm militia who regularly rape women, or even if the cacao farmers got paid for their crops.

i don't know how many children and animals were exposed to toxic chemicals in the production of this (metaphorical) piece of crystal meth. i don't know if a woman was forced by an abusive partner to shoplift the ingredients for fear of being beaten later. i don't know if a small family-owned pharmacy has been crippled financially by thefts of the drugs taken to make meth.

bottom line, at this point i need to do some independent research as to the possible interactions between street drugs and my current regiment of medications. it's all kinda moot until i figure that out. if there are any that i then would in theory feel comfortable using, further examination can take place at that time. or else i have a really good explanation for why i don't use the next time i'm offered, instead of just saying "i don't know, i've just always drawn the line there..."

halp teh halpers...

seekrit...

sixteen years ago yesterday i was raped. it feels like he's raped me almost every day since then. i'm not letting him rape me anymore.

lurve letteh

i got a little weepy today, in a good way. i logged into my facebook account, mostly to waste time playing a silly game, when i discovered the following in my inbox:

"I was thinking about you today. Randomly. You taught me so fucking much in the years we lived together - gave me so much awesome vicarious experience, that you shared with me. You're awesome. Seriously."

wow. i don't even know what to say really. i'm still taking in all in.

a seekrit frum me to yoo

i think i'm falling in love already...

hurrah!

more cheezburger

mai happeh. let me show yoo eet.

i feel really happy right now. not really happy as in extraordinarily happy, but really happy as in truly, veritably, measurably happy. case in point, today was the first day since thursday i have felt anxious. there have been a few panicky moments, and little compulsions, but until tonight no spiralling, racing, insecure thoughts. that's four entire days of what - to me - seems utter bliss.

in writing "measurably happy" above, i was specifically referencing my dear old friend, the BECK Depression Inventory. for those of you unfamiliar with the scale, it's a series of 21 groups of statements about different areas of self-image, emotions, and physical symptoms of depression. in each series the statements range from not experiencing this at all, to this symptom is overwhelming me, and are scored 0, 1, 2, 3, accordingly. i can't give specific examples, or link to a page* (lest somehow i be caught and prosecuted for copyright infringement), but i think it will suffice to say the scale goes from 0-63, with 63 having all the symptoms of depression in their very worst form.

last summer and fall, under my psychiatrist's supervision, i was anywhere between the high 30s and the low 50s. since anything above 30 is profound (or some similarly depressing word) depression, at that point it's just a measure of how utterly hopeless, and generally suicidal, you feel. it's been obvious to me that i've been steadily improving, and the number would have dropped since then, so last night i pulled up my good friend BECK & tallied them up. i'm rather elated to say i scored a 21! huzzah! mild depression: i have arrived.

the last time i clearly remember returning from the brink to such a state of health was close to 4 years ago. somewhere in the middle of intense yoga practice and cognitive behavioural therapy, my score dropped to a 17. you might think i'd be elated, but instead i had a complete breakdown. i cried. i shook. i came close to vomiting. i sobbed, and blubbered, and looked around the room in horror to see my CBT group mates all staring at me in amazement. i knew just what they were thinking: "isn't less depressed what we've all been aiming for?"

and that's just it. less depressed is what we aim for. from that bleak, hopeless, and terrifying place deep inside the grasp of depression we can see only so far - and we see ourselves in such a way that depression also takes over our self-concept. when i first crawled to freedom, i realised that in that moment, the moment i saw myself as a 17, i had absolutely no idea who i was if i wasn't depressed. i had no idea what i wanted from life, other than relief. i had no idea how to live my life as a happy person. the only thing i was sure of was that i, me the depressed person, she who wallows in sadness, could not possibly deserve to be happy.

it's taken years to get through that one negative core belief, and to truly believe everyone deserves some measure of happiness, and that everyone includes me. that yes, i have weaknesses, illnesses, flaws, and so does everyone else. not everyone is depressed, true. not everyone has ocd, true. not everyone whatever. we have all done or not done things that are regrettable and/or hurtful to others and/or just simply wrong at the time. yet we all deserve the chance to keep doing better; to get all the highs, all the lows, and yes, even the happiness, that come from doing better.

even me :)

* nor would it be entirely ethical to do so, as the inventory is meant to be completed with your physician, psychiatrist, or similar professional. please don't just download and check it off on your own, then draw inferences from your score. if you believe you or someone you care about may be depressed, please seek out someone to support you (and them) through the process. end public service announcement.

yootooob ocd movies

there's a whole community of people with ocd on youtube, posting videos confessing all their obsessions and compulsions. i love the videos, and i'm going to do one of my own :) it's a really neat idea, and i find watching helps me recognise and confront my own compulsions.

here's a video that started a whole flurry of other videos. i warn you though, i had to wash my face while watching :P

seekrits

i'm a big fan of post secret. i have never taken the time to read through one of the books, though i check the sunday secrets almost religiously. i'm especially a fan of the dialogue that surrounds each secret - the emails sent in to comment, some of which frank posts, really enrich the whole sharing process.

i've considered posting secrets to this blog, knowing only a very small handful of close loved ones have the address. i hope there are other readers from time to time, if only someone looking for info on mental health, who skims and finds the hope that recovery is possible. i don't give the address to casual friends, or even most close friends, and certainly not to any lovers. this blog is more journal than anything, and there are few people i would let read my diaries :)

that being said, i'm feeling it difficult to get together the time and supplies, (and mostly the ovaries) to put together a really good secret to mail in. the ones that i have truly never told anyone are so deep that i can hardly bring myself to admit them. just about everything else i've told someone at some point. i think it's a way of trying to protect myself. if i've already introduced you to the skeletons in my closet, i can control what you know about them, and pretend i don't care if i see you peeking around the door.

so i sit here enjoying a gorgeous summer storm that i literally watched blow in over the course of an hour, and i feel again the pull to share something here. something juicy. something i've never shared before. something i don't even tell my cats :P

maybe i'll go eat popcorn until the feeling passes...

bakk in teh saddul agin

so after a tragic liquid meets laptop incident a few weeks ago, along with multiple trips to my favourite independent computer shop for cleaning and repairs, it's taken me a bit to get back at blogging regularly :) the irony/syncronicity/blessing in it all is that recently i spoke to a friend about wanting to spend a week or so less plugged-in, and see what i would get up to if i spent less time online. after 18 hours of not checking my crackbook account, it became increasingly clear that i was unable to resist the pull of the internets. as per usual, the universe is conspiring to give me exactly what i ask for :)

i'll be posting more regularly again for a bit - until my summer travels begin - and posting some journal entries i wrote on paper in the mean time. i hope the universe is also conspiring to shower you with blessings today. enjoy!

hee hee hee :)

where has the time gone...

i knew it had been a while since i had posted anything, but seriously. i did not think it had been so long!

i've been struggling a lot lately with physical pain, and it just seems to intensify my anxiety. pain certainly limits my ability to get around and get stuff done, thus making me that much more stressed about the amount i'm accomplishing. i need to haul ass to the chiropractor and get adjusted. i also need to get to see my regular physician and talk with her about the spasms. and have blood work redone. and rebook with my psychologist. and get my paper work done for my disability support application. and finish my taxes. and call my worker. deeeeeep breath.

i think tonight i will just focus on putting clean sheets on my bed and having a nice hot shower. that should help me sleep better, and get up in a better head space. hopefully then i'll feel loose enough to hit the gym in the morning, and get some things done around the house. certainly the gym helps me feel better throughout the day - the endorphins perhaps? or maybe it just gets the muscles moving again and therefore makes the joints a little looser. whichever, it helps. so let's get 'er done.

roller coastering

i'm a little giddy about this recovery process. sure there are days (like today) when i am less than productive, but overall i'm doing so much better. and really, i do need to take time off now and then.

i'm itching to work, feeling the need to get out and be in the workforce. all of my workers/doctors agree i should not be going back to work until i am really ready, and as much as i want to rebel, i've got to agree. my general practitioner in particular brought up that she doesn't want working outside the home interfering with the therapy i'm doing, and taking time away from the purging process. besides that, if i go against what they tell me, i'm shooting myself in the foot when it comes to applying for disability support. sigh.

i've made some serious headway around the house, lost 20 pounds, and am making some serious progress with the socialising. i've been able to get out a little more, and am even return phone calls more regularly. go me!

yer weekly lolz (frum xkcd.com)

huzzah 4 teh weeknd!

i had an absolutely fabulous weekend. it was a weekend of debauchery for certain, but what really made it so spectacular was just getting out of the house, with no pressure, no demands, and lots of friends. a few weeks ago there was the awesome party a friend and i hosted, but all the pressures of throwing the party really made it difficult to just enjoy the party itself, and the visist from my ex.

my psychologist and i had a long discussion last meeting about ways to prepare for social situations, and for me specifically, the dreaded "what have you been up to?" question. i always feel compelled to be honest, and one of the key reasons i struggle to leave my house is the shame i feel when revealing i am unemployed, and unable to work because of my disabilities. i also did not finish my long-lapsed arts degree, and given that i still live in this university town, i frequently get asked if i'm still/back in school. what really hit home with our discussion was our agreement that really, noone cares that much about the answer you give. those kind of questions are a way to open - similar to how are you - and nobody actually expects you to give a progress report. how liberating! so the answers i've come up with are things like "i'm trying to decide what i will be if i grow up," "i've been planning a trip to return to Haiti," and to the school question, "it's hard to convince myself it's worthwhile finishing an arts degree. i mean really, what can you do with an arts degree?"

it really worked out very, very well :) i went to my favourite goth bar, a place i once frequented waaaay too much, and ran into a lot of regulars. everyone seemed happy to see me, and noone blinked twice with any of my somewhat rehearsed responses to the dreaded questions. by the end of the night i was just feeling like myself again, totally relaxed and dancing, and remembering all the great reasons there are to go out regularly! saturday i spent most of the day in bed recovering from dehydration and (i must admit) a bit of a hangover, then got up and had delicious takeout my favourite little Chinese restaurant. a good friend arrived to pick me up around 9pm saturday, and we headed into the city to meet up with friends.

i love that we're now kinda regulars at the club we went to. i love that i'm now regularly hooking up (in both the social & sexual meaning) with a fabulous polyamorous, kinky, and gorgeous woman i met there a few months ago. i especially love that she and i have becomes friends as well, and that sometime in the next month or so i'll be meeting her girlfriend too :) it's really nice to have someone close by, yet at arm's length. i like having a regular partner, but having the distance keep it from becoming too hot and heavy too quickly. i need a break from serious dating, but knocking boots with great people makes me a much happier person.

the other highlight of my debauchery weekend was meeting up with a boyfriend from high school, whom i haven't seen in a decade or so. the sex was even better than i had hoped, which rocks of course, but what really touched my heart was a discussion about how we broke up. i accused him of breaking my heart, to which he countered that i, in fact, had broken up with him. that someone had started a rumour about his intentions, and i had just stopped speaking to him. and that he was really hurt. i can't tell you how good it feels to have had that conversation. i was devastated when we broke up, feeling like i had been had by someone whom i really cared about, and whom i had believed was a beautiful, gentle, soul. to find out he is the person i believed him to be, and that he genuinely cared for me too was wonderful. it also reaffirmed that avoiding confrontations and believing rumours can ruin an otherwise happy relationship. the whole experience has really strengthened my resolve to get things out in the open before they fester over. it's good exposure therapy ;)

laktating wuz nawt part of plann...

my body never ceases to amaze me in its complexity, and in its ability to throw a wrench in my gears.

for months i've had frequent (even more frequent than normal) headaches, as well as sore, achy eyes...i've been more irritable than normal, had heavier, irregular periods, and my breasts are overflowing a D cup bra. i figured that my Effexor dose was a contributing factor, that stress was a factor, eating goat cheese was maybe even a factor. turns out it was something well out of my control, and something i really should have thought of earlier.

my prolactin levels are high. higher than normal anyways. for years i've had sub-clinical hypothyroidism. basically it means that i have thyroid levels which are low, but not to the point that it's required treatment. i've been monitored, and the levels rise and fall, rise and fall, but never become clinically significant to the degree that an endocrinologist wants to treat me in any way. so apparently one of the things that the thyroid impacts is the pituitary, by limiting the release of prolactin. if the pituitary doesn't get enough of whichever hormone from the thyroid, it continues to release more and more. eventually what can happen is a benign pituitary growth, which then further inhibits the signals to the gland, thus exacerbating the whole situation.

i need to go back for more tests of course, but at this point i'm kinda hoping it is a tumour. which sounds silly to say, but it will be an instant pick-me-up to just take the appropriate medication, shrink the growth, and feel happier and more peppy.

eym grate aktewlie

i've got a problem with blogging. well with writing actually. if i start on something, and then stop, i really struggle to come back and pick up where i left off. this is not a recent phenomenon, but something that's been ongoing since as long as i can remember. it's one of the biggest roadblocks to finishing essays and such, because i feel the need to write the whole thing in on sitting. this worked well for shorter essays as a child, but as the assignments got longer, it became physically impossible to type that long without such things as food and sleep. even typing itself was a struggle, as i felt i couldn't type as fast as i think, and if i couldn't get it all down without pausing, i would surly miss something, and then i would need to start over again with a whole new train of thought. eventually this is something i want to work on, but for the time being, just typing as i think, and writing short pieces for the blog is enough.

this new-found ability to lower my standards and therefore allow myself to succeed has been wonderful. i've been plugging along with my exposure exercises, and making a big dent in my cache of stuff. it feels so good to be realistic about what i can accomplish, and what is realistic, and then to succeed! i've felt like a global failure off and on for so much of my life, the being able to say i'm successful at stuff is pretty awesome :) so today i'm just going to celebrate all the fabulous things i have accomplished since i started keeping track:

8 items posted or wanted ads replied to on my local freecycle group
9 shelves & drawers purged and reorganised
24 broken items fixed or thrown out
34 grocery bags of paper (old notes, junk mail, etc) recycled
7 craft projects finished completely!
8 home improvement projects completed
15 large bags of purged items thrown out or recycled
5 books & magazines given away or thrown out
10 items of clothing/shoes given away
6 cardboard boxes recycled
8 pet items thrown out or given away
16 old food items thrown out or given away
90 old emails deleted
6 loads of laundry put away entirely
4 surfaces (such as stovetop, counters) cleared off entirely
5 complete fridge purges!
19 rackloads of dishes
38 workouts or exercise classes
10 letters or cards written and sent
27 blog entries posted (i wrote a couple elsewhere)
5 complete cleanings of tub & shower
54 square feet of tile completely cleared and cleaned
5 borrowed items returned
1 gift put together & given
14 total purges of voice mailbox
19 bills paid in full/ debts settled

now that i've tackled some of the bigger areas of my hoarding (papers, correspondences, food) i'm working at doing a half hour of just straight sorting and purging each day, moving from room to room in my apartment. it's a bit easier now that there's a lot less stuff, but way more anxiety provoking, because there's just so much random stuff that i've accumulated over the years. it's getting easier to throw stuff out, but at the same time, i've done a lot of the easier stuff. there's a lot of tricky things now: craft stuff galore, bits of memorabilia, old paperwork... really though, as messy as it is as i look around right now, i know that most of the things are pretty superficially cluttered at the moment, as i decide where to put things and how to reorganise. overall there's a lot less stuff here, and i'm pretty damn proud of myself :) hurrah!

safer secks is hawt secks

how mai ex peez!

eek!

it's been a rather long time since i've posted anything much, and i keep thinking of all kinds of things to write. i even wrote part of a post a couple days ago (now edited & posted for the date i started it)...it's really essential that i keep at it, since the longer i go, the harder it is to get back at it. as i think i've previously mentioned, i'm using the blog as a kind of exposure therapy: when dealing with anxiety disorders, one of the best tactics.

so wtf is exposure therapy? basically it involves confronting the situation that causes the anxiety, and staying in it until the anxiety passes. usually when we are confronted with an anxious situation, the stress, the panic, increase to such a point that we freak out and bail. then our minds tell us, thank gods we got out alive! i was right to be anxious! the next time the same situation comes up, our mind remembers the anxiety and starts at an even higher point of anxiety, until we can't begin at all.

so i must keep writing. each time i do, and keep at it, the anxiety gets easier to bear. i just need to keep going until my body settles down. and it will settle down. all on its own. that's the thing about anxiety. it'll pass either way. if we avoid the stressor, we mistakenly believe that's why we feel better, but eventually we would anyways.

in order for a decent exposure exercise to work, i need to find a workable level of anxiety, and just start there. that's why i'm posting on a somewhat anonymous blog. that's why i don't send the address to friends. i realise people are reading - i've had dozens of profile views, and a few comments - but knowing i won't have to discuss what i've written, receive feedback or be judged on it, makes it safer. it would be ridiculous to go back to school at this point and try to confront such high levels of distress, but posting here i can manage for the time being.

i'm fortunate enough to have a psychologist who specialises in treating clients with OCD, and who is an expert at designing such exercises. i had been feeling so overwhelmed lately, feeling like if i didn't get under the OCD, find out what drives it, i would never be well. i have been so relieved to find out that it's nothing but faulty genes. according to my doctor, there are psychosomatic theories of OCD, but little evidence to back them up. there is nothing under it. nada. hurrah! how liberating to know i have what amounts to genetic disorder that affects how my brain processes information.

frusstrashun - ai haz it.

this whole dating thing is not going as well as i had hoped. i'm meeting lots of people for sure, and getting laid more often is certainly a big bonus, but i'm struggling with the thought of what i actually want in a relationship, what i want from a partner.
specifically, i'm frustrated by meeting people i really seem to click with, whom i'm really into physically, mentally, but whom i have fundamental disagreements with. i struggle about what is truly a deal-breaker, and what is my perfectionism. what is just me sabotaging myself being happy?

there are things i have always been pretty clear on. things like i will not date or casually sleep with someone who is openly racist, homophobic, classist, ableist, etc. i feel like underlying each person's domesticated veneer is a whole slew of internalised -isms, including me. i feel like as long as someone is aware of this, and works on their judgements, i'm cool with it - and right there with them incidentally. if i meet someone who says, "you're bi? that's cool," and assumes it means hot girl-on-girl action, and/or thinks two dudes together is disgusting, i'm out. same thing with lesbians who hate bisexual dykes, and anyone who bashes transpeople in any way.

so the two issues that have come up recently are the legal rights of queers, and abortion issues. one dude i had already hooked up with a couple times, turns out he believes queer marriage should not be legal. this i'm actually okay with, because i know he's christian, and may just feel we should stick with civil unions, and not church marriage. that's fine. but he also believes that queers having kids is wrong. not cool. at all. there's clearly no future here at all, as eventually i'd like to have a child, and i may well do it with another woman. the other is not so clear.

so what's come up is that this second boy checked off a question on the dating site we belong to saying that abortion is not an option for him in the case of unwanted pregnancy. in addition, he checked that his opinion of someone would change if he found out they had had an abortion. until this past fall, i've never had a partner with whom i've disagreed about abortion rights, so it's always been this vague, nebulous kinda thing to say i wouldn't date someone who was anti-choice*. i was okay for a long time dating other people who were unsure they could choose an abortion themselves, because i felt the same way, and felt in the case of an unplanned pregnancy we would discuss it then.

a few years ago, however, i started seeing a guy who asked very clearly if i was pro-choice in theory, or if i would consider an abortion myself. it was really one of the best conversations i've ever had with a man regarding abortion. he clearly stated that he was not prepared to be a parent at this time, had been unsuccessful getting a vasectomy (a whole other blog topic!), and that if i were to become pregnant, he would not father the child in any way, so he wanted to be clear before we slept together how we both felt. i think it's a conversation all couples should have. that way each person can make an informed choice prior to engaging in sexual activities.

so my dilemma with this new guy is that i wouldn't want us to get involved, have an unplanned pregnancy, and then have it be really traumatic for him if i chose an abortion. it's not fair to him, and it's not fair to me either. the thing is, am i reading too much into his answers? his answer was that a potential partner's feelings on the topic are irrelevant. so i might think it was a mis-click, but for the second about his opinion changing. even if he feels my reasons for having an abortion were justified, why should i have to defend my decision to anyone? i know choosing an abortion was the right decision for everyone involved, including the foetus. should i even bother getting involved with him? risk the potential heartache that i feel is really inevitable? i kinda wish i hadn't looked at the details of our q&a, because then i could have gotten to know him a bit better before this came up. it feels way to early in our getting to know each other to be even thinking about such matters. sigh.



*i use this not to offend people who prefer to call themselves pro-life, but because it is more accurate to describe those who feel that others should not choose an abortion. people who wouldn't choose one themselves, but would respect an other's decision to procure an abortion are still pro-choice.

ocd comix!!

i love comics about ocd. here's a funny one i found by artist spencer hill

ocd lol uv teh week!

i heart this video. it's tewtally how i justified my compulsions for the longest time :) hee hee!

Scary Bear: OCD for you and me!

also, go check out the site for lots of funnies. i haven't found any other ocd ones, but damn are they witty :)

i can has gud seckz, nd 'moshunal awnestee?

i am frustrated by dating lately. i suppose it's a good thing that i decide someone doesn't measure up after the first few dates. in the past i would have taken any number of the past few dates and turned them into a few angst-filled months and then ended some unhappy relationship in despair. at least i'm ending them before i feel any kind of investment.

this most recent one is a really nice guy. strike one. not his guyness, but his niceness. apparently i struggle more than i realised with taking compliments well, and accepting when someone seems to genuinely like me. i figured that it's good to test out my aversions to things to find out which are pathology, and which are actually adaptive. i still can't decide. i feel like it's way too early for him to decide he really likes me. he barely knows me. but is that my negative core belief that anyone who really knows me will dislike me? or is it realistic to be concerned that someone is so open about his attraction to me?

strike two. he's christian. this one is really tormenting me. because i'm always soooo sure that i'm open-minded and tolerant and blah blah blah. so is it a big deal that we have differing spiritual beliefs? will it be a sticking point over time? am i just really spiritual and wanting to share my spiritual life with my partners? am i really secretly intolerant and judgemental of people who believe in jesus? or is it part of my ocd that when we're naked and i see this gold cross on his chest that a little of my breakfast comes back up?

part of me thinks this is a healthy development - my pickyness - and part of me just worries that my anxieties are keeping me from letting people get close. a good friend recently pointed out that i am the queen of mixed messages. that i flirt, and make it clear that i am attracted to someone, then squeal and run away, or pull away with a creeped out look on my face, or whatever when they actually hit on me. now that i'm aware of it, i feel even more socially awkward and dorky, but she makes a good point. my last girlfriend and i never actually had sex, in spite of talking about it a great deal, and flirting shamelessly. part of it was certainly me trying to be respectful of her primary partner's newness to polyamoury, but part of it was certainly that i just liked her so damn much. a couple of times she expressed she was unsure if i actually liked her, was attracted to her, and i brushed it off as her being insecure. i reassured her i was very into her, and continued to flirt shamelessly, but turned into a giggling schoolgirl whenever we made out. sigh. i feel awful guilt now thinking about how she may have wondered if i really cared, or if i was even really attracted to her.

as i look back over the years, there's an awful lot of that. especially with the women i've dated. i think generally it's in large part because of the emotional investment. i can be with men without getting all goopy, because i assume they don't give a shit, and i don't really either generally. sooner or later - if it becomes regular - i get attached to them (sometimes) but i can totally separate sex and emotion with guys. women, however, tend to turn me into an blundering adolescent. i dunno if it's because i didn't come out until i was in theory an adult, or what, but it's like i'm as socially awkward as i was in grade school when i try to flirt with women. i have to really think consciously about what i'm doing, and i second guess every word, every facial expression when i really like a woman. i've always thought that it's in part because i don't want to ever treat a woman like a crappy boyfriend, and i've broken up with more than one woman because i felt she deserved better than me.

i guess what it comes down to is that this is clearly not working for me. if it were adaptive in any way, i wouldn't have driven off people i genuinely cared about, whom i felt very invested in. i know a big part is anxiety. because with the recent gf, the longer we went without sleeping together, the more i wanted it, and the more i wanted it to be perfect. earth shattering. the kind of sex that is so intense you cry when you come. i couldn't handle the thoughts in my head that kept asking all those what ifs? that so often hold me back: what if you disappoint her? what if you can't give her an orgasm? what if you do something embarrassing? what if her husband gets too jealous and never lets her see you again? what if she decides she doesn't like you after all? what if you fall in love? how long will it take for her to leave you?....

at the time i was on a different course of medication, including a sleep med that made me have suicidal ideation - i may post the journal entries i wrote at that time about meds - and a much higher dose of my SSNRI. i had little libido, and felt like everything was covered in a haze. i couldn't think straight. words came out awkward. i wasn't sleeping or eating properly. i thought that was all there was to it, because how could being with someone wonderful make me feel so bad? i'm now starting to re-evaluate that perspective. i don't get the same feeling with any of the recent dates that i had with her, the feeling from the first kiss that this was someone i could fall deeply in love with. nevertheless, i'm feeling some of the same anxieties.

i'm glad i see my ocd therapist on friday. we mostly talk about my hoarding, but inevitably we talk about relationships too. i'd love to get through some of this, because some day i might run into the woman of my dreams again, and this time i'd like to be ready for her.

happeh ded jebus deh

so it's good friday once again, and once again i'm with my extended family "celebrating" easter. i find it rather awkward and bizarre. when we were children the adults were dogmatic and oppressive when it came to easter. sure there were baskets of brightly coloured eggs, and chocolate enough to put a healthy person into shock, but there were also strict rules about clothing choice, fasting, prayer, mass attendance, drinking, television, and so the list continues. and here we sit, me on the laptop while the "adults" watch coronation street, after a rich dinner (still no meat, only fish ::rolls eyes::) which was accompanied by two bottles of merlot and followed by shots of vodka.

so strange how when we were kids the religion was shoved down our throats in spite of tears and protests, but now that we are old enough to choose to stay home from mass, the parents don't fast, drink as much alcohol as they like, wear slacks - or even jeans! - to mass, and spend considerable time debating whether they'll even go at all. if i were still catholic i would be disgusted by their laxity, but being a recovering catholic i'm disgusted by the hypocrisy. if it were such a big deal to force us to comply, why is it so unimportant when there are no children around?

whatever. one of the reasons i left the church is the rigidity and control, and clearly it's a widespread problem. really though, i think changing the rules now shows the desperation, and the earlier mistakes of the church. it also shows how unimportant to the faith, and how fucking political most of the earlier decrees were. if all those requirements of my childhood were really so necessary to please god, would not their mortal souls be in jeopardy? or is this not an indication that many of the church's rules are, in fact, used to control and dominate?

i think so. and i'm glad to be free.

ocd comix

i loves comics. i love comics about obsessive compulsive disorder even more.

why? because i find it helps to laugh at myself, and at my ocd.

and so i bring you one of my latest finds:

serpryz!! buttseckz!! er, serpryz?

i've been seriously had.

i'm still shaking my head in disbelief, to the point that i'm not even angry most of the time. in fact for days i couldn't stop grinning about it in spite of myself.

so what happened? well, i've been talking and flirting online with a guy for weeks now, and actually met and hooked up with him at my place a few weeks ago for the first time. after he left that first night, i ran into a friend of his, in the chat room we met in, who let me know he in fact has a girlfriend. so of course, being an ethical poly person, i brought it up with him.

the conversation went something like this: "so i ran into s***** and she tells me you live with your girlfriend..." and he said, "nope, she's wrong. my roomate is male." i replied that was the impression i had, that to honest i didn't care who else he was with, just so long as everything is on the up and up. my next question, "so do you have a wife and kids around somewhere i should know about?" he laughed, said, "no. and you?" i thought that we were in the clear.

so flirtation continued, a few play dates were made and rescheduled due to my cold/pneumonia, with the whole thing coming together friday night. after a few solid hours of awesome kinky sex, he was getting dressed again, when he dropped the bomb. i said something to the effect of, "please don't think i'm being insensitive by saying i don't want to get to know you too well right now, i just want to be clear that i'm not looking for a relationship right now," to which he replied, "and i don't want a relationship because i already have a girlfriend."

wtf? yeah, so turns out he lives at home with his mom, and has a long-term girlfriend who won't give him what he really wants sex-wise. so i asked, does she know he's hooking up on the side, and he said "no, she doesn't give me this, but i have needs." fine, but won't she be hurt when she finds out? "she's not going to find out. i didn't lie about having a girlfriend, you just didn't ask the right questions."

i feel like he was being deceptive with me, knowing that if i knew he was in an exclusive relationship i wouldn't have had him back over. that being said, i wonder why he even told me at all...he could have just continued to avoid the truth, and i would have never been the wiser. when i tried to explain about my views on poly, and mentioned my ex coming home to stay with me, he said "there you go, if things don't work out with us you've got that." so part of me wonders, was he really hoping there would be something between us? beyond the sex? was i to be his out from an unhappy relationship? was he hurt by my "coldness" - which was really just honesty - and was looking to get back at me?

while it's certainly tempting to just find a way to get back at him, to out him as queer, kinky, and dishonest, i really do think his gf deserves better, and so does he. we all deserve to be with someone we can be ourselves with, we can be honest with, and to have our sexual and emotional needs met. i wonder is he really as selfish as i am tempted to label him, or is he a guy in an unhappy relationship, afraid to admit to his partner, his friends, and his family that he is a bisexual man who desperately wants to be fucked stupid with a strap-on? i really feel for him. so many people are stuck in monogamous relationships who just don't realise that another way is possible. and so many men feel that they must choose between being gay and straight.

in the end i've decided to write him a letter, and explain why i won't be hooking up with him again. and encourage him to be honest with his partner(s) in whatever way works for them. full disclosure may not be the most compassionate route to take with his gf, but she needs to know that he has needs the relationship isn't meeting, and that if things can't change, they both need to move on so they can have the relationship they each need. it's unfair for him to be trapped in some coupling that drives him to seek outside sex and affection, but it's just as unfair for her to be in a monogamous, committed relationship with someone who is neither.

really bad party ideas

make a big pinata shaped like ceiling cat

fill with:
individually wrapped single serving pickles (in brine)
shelf-stable bacon
cock rings

greetinks earf gurl

lolrat built from a pic yoinked from this blog and posted over at teh ultimit lolsite. enjoy!


see more lolpics

medamorfuhsis - i duz it

i really feel like i’ve hit a wall of sorts. this week has been rather hellacious. i know it’s in large part due to the interaction between medications – it’s like i had a reduced dose of Effexor XR for 4 days – but whatever the reason i’ve got to deal with it. i am meeting tomorrow morning with reps from Ontario Disability Support Program to see if i qualify financially for disability support as i recover. i’m heading back to work with my psychologist specifically on hoarding goals. one of my ex-partners is coming home for a visit at the beginning of april, and is staying here at my place. that’s a whole bunch of possible triggers for setbacks in the next few weeks.

i called my best crisis support person – the aforementioned ex – and spoke to him at length for quite a long time. one of my biggest fears has been that he will return home, and judge me for what he perceives to be little progress. my last few relationships have been strained – if not outright ended – due in large part to my hoarding OCD. my ex also has OCD, and really our obsessions and compulsions really triggered each other. i know in my head that the break up was multifaceted, but my heart of hearts just still clings to the lies that it’s all my fault.

he was wonderfully reassuring, letting me know that he expects the apartment to be as big a disaster as when he left, and that he’s fine dealing with it for a few days, and that if it’s improved, he will be even happier about it, but that he’s proud of me either way for working on my shit. i can’t tell you how big a relief it was to hear that. the best part? one of the hardest areas of my apartment to purge has been my bathroom for a long time, due in large part to the fact that this was the site of most of our worst battles – he’s a germaphobe, and has extensive, excessive bathing habits. i’m a perfectionist who bails when things i can’t see perfection, so the bathroom just piled up with both of us fighting to clean it, and with bathing and cleaning eventually interfering with most other aspects of our relationship.

so with some of the pressure off, i took a deep breath, lowered my standards, and…with the anxiety decreased i actually managed to clean the bathroom! woohoo!! there are still some things piled in the tub, and a couple of boxes on the floor, but the sink and toilet are cleaned, the empty half of the tub and shower are scrubbed, and there’s at least twice as much visible floor space. i feel an almost delirious sense of relief.

so yeah, it’s been a bad week, but this too shall pass. deep breath. aaaaahhhhhh.

plegh.

i really hate catching respiratory viruses. having asthma means that almost every infection i get turns into either a sinus infection or bronchitis. and every few years i get some particularly virulent virus, and i end up with pneumonia.

i suppose i should have been expecting it this year. it's been a busy year for me as far as being sick goes. i had some sort of plague a few months ago that my dr. actually suspected might be pertussis (whooping cough) as well as a few lesser colds, and a bout of the flu. so really, it should come as no surprise that eventually i would be on antibiotics. again. i wish it weren't the case, but i'm on them about 3-4 times a year. sometimes more. le sigh.

i had been starting to feel better, at least as far as being able to breathe goes, and coughing up mucous goes, but i haven't been able to sleep. i've also had weird headaches, with vague nausea and some light-headedness. i thought perhaps it was because i quit smoking, but the no sleeping? weird to say the least. now it all makes sense. the sinuses are no longer gushing, but still feel somewhat congested, and incredibly sore. so i spoke with a dr. again tonight, and tadah! mystery solved. apparently some antibiotics and Effexor interact, with liver function and absorption of both drugs compromised. i guess that also explains perhaps why i have been peeing 2-3 times a day, instead of the usual dozen or so.

so i'm switching to amoxicillan, as the penicillin family of drugs don't cause the same problems, and do a better job with sinusitis. yay for an end in sight of bronchitis, pneumonia, and sinus pain! yay for being able to sleep again normally. yay for being able to breathe!

also, yay for being well enough soon to hook up again with my play toy - a super-cute 30ish boy who is game for just about anything and everything. hurrah!

go heer an laff for owrs.

srsly. look what i made. the best. gothic. poem. ever. using the Goth-O-Matic poetry generator.
bwahahahaha!

Denial

Slender beams of moonlight enter
this darkened place as I kneel,
always hopeful, always fearful,
frozen here,
waiting.

Accusing forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
penetrating my naked soul.

Tears on a child's face.

I raise my head, now crying out for
this callous salvation.

ah luvz mah shoos - bit too muches?

as i work through my OCD - specifically the hoarding aspects of my OCD - i'm learning i need to re-evaluate what exactly it is to be organised in a healthy way. over the last three decades my fear of loss and my need for perfection in all aspects of my life have buried me in stuff. stuff that i don't really need, or even want usually, but stuff that i feel compelled to keep just in case. or because someone gave it to me. or because no-one else would want it and i feel guilty just throwing it out.

bit by bit i am letting go of all the stuff, and emotional baggage that have held me captive for most of my life. (perhaps you now understand the name of the blog, hee hee). as i do so, i am also learning to let go of my perfectionism in the way things are organised, letting things be just as they are now, rather than perfect, thus allowing me to actually move through things - both figuratively and literally.

now i seem to have reached a point where the i'm trying to organise those things i am keeping, and trying to decide what is really healthy, reasonable, adaptive. i get that organising my cds roughly alphabetically, and loosely by genre is probably a time saver, and not too obsessive. aiming to organise my myriad books by the dewy decimal system is probably a goal i should not pursue :) things get a little grey however for me at some points. for instance, is keeping all of my shoes paired, boxed, and in one place, a good way to keep them together, clean and undamaged in a multi-pet household? is it a good way to keep track of all of my shoes so that it is easier to set limits and purge? or is it perhaps overkill...a tad on the obsessive side...

i think the shoe example is probably healthy. i can decide how many pairs of shoes i really think i need, or want anyways, and then get the appropriate number of boxes. the shoes that do not fit inside the boxes, go. i think it's a tangible way to limit myself, and to help keep myself on track. that way if i want another pair of shoes, at the point of purchase i will need to think, "which pair of shoes will i give away or throw out to make room for these?" and if i can't bear to part with any of the foot wear at home, the new pair will not come back with me.

there are times i really wish i had a much larger apartment, and then i remember, if i had more space, i would only have filled it. and then i would have that much more to go through.

this is every morning at our house.

i am the mucous queen.

over the last couple of weeks i've been spending a whole lot of time just laying around coughing up disgustingly copious amounts of mucous, quantaties rivaled only by the amount of mucous coming out of my sinuses. i've also been using my asthma inhaler a few times a day, rather than the once a month or so that is the norm for me. as such i've thought about all of the things i'd like to be accomplishing, and doing none of them. the first day or so the break was nice and welcome. after that laying around watching t.v. and taking many naps per day got pretty old. i'm now thoroughly sick and tired of being sick and tired.

one of the many things i've been thinking a lot about doing is writing. no matter how wonderful something sounds in my snot-filled head though, once my hands start moving to make the words appear, it becomes clear that my thoughts get caught up somehow in the semi-solid green sludge that never seems to end. this is now the third? fourth? time i've tried to write a simple post, and my sentences are so inelegant, so fragmented (even for me) that i've just given up, will post as is.

update: i was starting to suspect i have developed a secondary bacterial infection, and it seems to have now spread to my eyes as well. this morning i couldn't open my eyes as they were glued shut with goop. yummeh. so today i'm going back to the clinic and get re-examined. thank gods for public medicare. i'm not a fan of antibiotics, but damn i love ontario.

best. comic. ever.

i made me a blog

there are so many things bouncing around in my head that i'd like to be writing about right now: roots and causes of paedophilia, Malcolm X's teachings about inner strength, etiology of obsessive thoughts and behaviours...i don't even remember them all. finally having given myself an outlet for writing again has made me acutely aware of how many narratives there are running through my head at any moment. i spend so much time thinking through things, over and over and over...

i'm so grateful for this resource. even if noone were ever to read this, that i have a place to clear my head of some of these thoughts is an enormous blessing. besides which, i know i need to be writing, to be creating, to be teaching - more for me than for anyone else - and yet my anxieties have grown so far out of proportion that it has become this insurmountable obstacle to even pick up a pencil. a number of times i have begun a hierarchy of fears with regards to writing, and even a couple of times i have started working through them, and yet i have done little concrete other than build the anxiety through repeated false starts.

i know that actually creating a blog was only the first of a number of anxiety roadblocks that will come up, and each time the stakes will feel higher. each time i miss a day posting, i know it will be harder to get back at it. throughout this process i will need to keep reminding myself that the fear is not real - there are no actual threats to my life, to my being, to my status of success even. the fear is just part of the disease that has been trying to control my whole life.

i'm taking it back.

mai bad dey gettz wurse

i have one of the worst colds i've ever had. the coughing fits never seem to end, it's hard to swallow...i was sitting here earlier just trying to stay warm, fighting back chills when my youngest cat started harassing me. i just didn't have it in me to give, just wanted to sit and drink my hot lemon ginger tea, so i pushed her away. all of a sudden she pounced - just kind of jumped on me while running past to get my attention - knocking the hot tea from my hand, scalding my left arm, right breast, and belly. i peeled off my sweater to get the hot tea off of me, threw it in the laundry bin on the way to the bedroom, tears now welling over in my eyes. i closed the door behind me to keep her out and threw myself onto the bed only to discover the same cat had vomited all over the bed. 

at this point i was sobbing. my couch was wet, i was wet and burned, and the sheets are soaked through to the mattress in vomit. the last thing i want to do while sick as a dog is to mop up after the cats and do some laundry. i just piled the top sheet and blankets on top of the vomit and lay down to cry. 

i know my frustration is compounded by the fact that i ran out of my SSNRI*s last night, and i' just feeling too shitty to leave the house and re-fill my prescription. i know it'll take days to recover from a couple missed doses...as soon as i miss a dose, the frustration just builds, my anxiety just builds, my confusion just builds...and so of course i don't feel at all like going out...and so the prescription remains unfilled...

i started having the fantasy again of just laying in bed, having everything i need just flowing into my veins intravenously. sometimes i just don't want to have to go on. not commit suicide or anything, just to take some time out so i don't need to do fight any more.

*Selective Seratonin/Norepinefrin Reuptake Inhibiter

lyfe haz a flavr

i just finished watching a television show on eating disorders... i cried. a lot. one thing that really got me was when one of the young women on the show looked at a photo of herself pre-eating disorder, and she said "she let me down. she should have been stronger." and i cried for her, but i also cried for me.

so many times i've beaten myself up for things i've done, for choices i made as a teenager, or even as a child, for things that were not my fault. for doing the best i could when facing things that no child, no adult even, should have to bear. for using the tools i had at the time, for making decisions and taking actions based on the limited resources (physical, emotional, etc) i had at the time.

whenever we look back at the roots of our mental illnesses, we need to be gentle with ourselves. we need to remember that whatever decisions we made years earlier, before we understood ourselves as we do now - as we work to understand ourselves even better - we made with the best intentions. we made them as best we could at the time. we need to let go of guilt and regret, and just breathe.

i'm going to go take a walk, and a few deep breaths, myself.