Today I was reading a post about rape and there was a comment about marital rape in the 80’s. That made me think about something I’ve probably never considered before. I’m pretty sure my father raped my mother on his birthday. The timing fits. It fits exactly. I’ve never thought about it before though. Fuck.
I also read this post. It’s about ways to commit rape you probably don’t think of as rape.
I spent a while today talking to a woman who is dealing with some pretty extreme domestic violence.
I wonder often if Noah is a boogieman or a monster. Has he hurt people? Yes. Not like that. Perspective.
I’m worried about Noah flipping out if I push him too far. That’s not what other people deal with.
A friend said to me today that we marry the person we think we deserve. Maybe. I’ve spent most of my marriage wondering how I talked someone so far up the ladder into marrying me. Sucker.
I got to talk to my Pam today. She says someone should write a story about her. Ok. I’ll make it happen. Not in the next month.
Noah is working really hard lately. He is… showing up for stuff he’s never shown up for before. He’s trying so hard. He’s always been a good husband. These days I feel like a towering pile of shit who does not deserve him.
We are trying to figure out how to get the pain-during-sex to stop. We have a few approaches we are trying. They depend upon him having more self control than ever and me having more initiative to say no than ever. Wish us luck.
I feel terrified of not writing down something about our dark side. I’m terrified of presenting this false Leave It To Beaver front.
But mostly things are good. So good I don’t think I belong here. I should be killed off so my understudy can step in. She will be more deserving and worthy.
Fuck.
I could point at dozens of women who are more deserving than me. They aren’t violent pieces of shit. They aren’t monsters who have to struggle every fucking day to control themselves.
They just… don’t have this ravening monster inside them.
I am unworthy of what I have.
I know.
Sometimes folks ask me why I don’t like myself.
I don’t see much to like. I’m a fucking selfish asshole.
I’m sorta terrified what my med-doctor will suggest when I see her on the 16th. I’m on my own till then.
Whyyyyyyyyy can’t I have a sleeping pill?!
Nope. Anti-psychotics for you, motherfucker.
Great.
I’m too dysregulated.
Sigh. Can we please not treat my dysregulation like it is an extreme crisis? Can we act like, “Alright. Let’s see how to turn the nozzles down a notch or two” instead of “OMG IT ISN’T OK TO FEEL LIKE THAT IT HAS TO STOP LET’S GIVE YOU THE STRONGEST DRUGS THAT EXIST.”
Ya know… I haven’t found this approach to work at all.
Maybe I’m depressed because shitty things happen and being well adjusted to them would be fucked up.
I would like to made a radical suggestion at my next appointment. I played ball and tried four drugs I didn’t want to try because I have to prove I “trust” the med-doc. Ok, how about if you try trusting me a little. What I want is a sleeping pill. Not a silver bullet. I want something to help me catch up on sleep because I’ve been functioning with a level of sleep that qualifies as torture for years because I am physically unable to sleep. Can we fucking address this symptom and see what happens? I’m cool with trying the appetite stimulant faux-pot thing to see if that would solve part of my need for pot.
Can we start there for a few months? Please? For the love of Crisco.
My body does not tolerate extreme medications like antipsychotics and ssri’s without going fucking ballistic.
HAVE I PROVEN IT TO YOUR SATISFACTION YET?!
Or do I have to suffer more for your amusement? This is why I’m all for the UN’s proposed rights for the survivors and users of the psychiatric system. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER USA. BRAZIL IS MORE HUMANE. WTF.
Stupid congress. Go fuck yourselves.
I should stop typing. But I’m very lonely without Twitter. If I’m not on Twitter or Facebook it is like my friends… fade away.
That’s not entirely true. I love you IM buddies. You are a balm to my soul.
Out of curiosity, have you tried or has a doctor suggested very low dose cortisone or similar? I read promising things about it some years back for PTSD and have been tempted to try it myself if I can get everything else under control health wise. Basically I’d heard that PTSD comes after an extended period of high cortisol, so if you take the stress away the cortisol system doesn’t function properly.
Antipsychotics seem like such a bizarre choice for you.
I am so frustrated by doctors.
I haven’t tried and it seems worth bringing up.
Question: Why do you think that someone who is a good person without having to make ongoing daily choices to modulate their behaviors is more deserving of love, respect, and good things than someone who Battles Demons daily to be the best person they can, Better than Most. Do you respect someone more who works for something or who finds something easy and never has to work at it?
When I was a teen and at UCLA NPI for 4.25 months I had lithium toxicity, as my blood levels came down I was dealing with a lot of anxiety and sleeplessness. They gave me a PRN order for the smallest dose possible of thorazine. THORAZINE. Fucking Thorazine Shuffle THORAZINE. But it was only what.., 10 or 20 mg, chilled me out when I was panicking, helped me sleep if I was sleepless. I only used it ten or fewer times, but it did really help. So you are not the only non-psychotic person to have been given an anti-psychotic, though I’m not sure if they’re giving it to you for sleep/anxiety.
Nonetheless, it’s never occurred to me to ask my dr for a micro dose prescription of thorazine to help my chronic chronic sleep deprivation. Fuck, I should be getting in bed Right Now.
He’s tried almost everything. Even a small dose of ambien. That worked almost alarmingly well, the first 2 times. At 5mg. The third time it didn’t and I’ve accommodated to drugs before, I know where that leads. Getting myself Into bed is hard, sleeping through the night is hard, right now taking a calcium/magnesium/d3 supplement at bedtime *seems* to be helping me sleep more at night. A week or so ago I slept something like 7 hours in a row without waking. I couldn’t fucking believe it, it’s been Years. I also have spent the last 8 weeks taking 50,000 IU of vitamin D weekly. Now I’m switching to 2,000 IU/day and I’m supposed to get a blood test to see if it’s done any good. I do have slightly more energy. I’ve had at least one night recently where I woke up and was awake restless and hypervigilant to the degree where I start frenetically kicking my feet for like 4 hours before sort of falling back to sleep. Thank goodness for provigil for those emergency days where I have to get real shit done with less than half a night of sleep. Ugh.
Why do I think they deserve more respect? Because they don’t fuck up and hurt people the way I do.
I’m sorry sleep is so hard for you too. 🙁
> I got to talk to my Pam today. She says someone should write a story about her. Ok. I’ll make it happen. Not in the next month.
Just for funsies, esp if anyone enjoys historical romance novels. This came up because I had mentioned Courtney Milan’s series “Brothers Sinister”.
https://www.goodreads.com/series/74729-brothers-sinister
She’s in the newest wave of authors who have… anachronistic 21st century feminists in Regency settings. While I _love_ these characters how they are, they did take me out of the setting a little at first. Not so much that a scientist countess or a black astronomy computer or gay family members _exist_, but also that their husbands and families are supportive on top of that. A few things got me over this nitpick.
1.) Milan details in her author’s notes real historical examples that her diverse characters are based on.
2.) Why don’t I complain about the myriad of cross-class marriages (gambler / aristocrat, gentry / duke), which are just as unrealistic? Oh, or witches? For that matter, I didn’t have a problem with the 1990’s feminists that appeared in historical novels– I grew up on those.
3.) You know what? _I_ exist. Asian-Americans are “supposed” to have families who want them to be doctor/lawyer/engineers, and yet my family supported and celebrated me entering the arts. And I think I’m pretty interesting, and a romance novel about _me_ would be be quite entertaining to read. So why shouldn’t this genius African British mathematician who computes for astronomers with a supportive family have a novel written about her?
So– I think Milan’s opened my mind a bit… And opened the way for more colorful characters from everyone.
It’s kinda cool.
Yeah.., I’m imperfect too. The battle between my needs and another person’s opposing needs can get ugly. I can only bury my own needs for so long, then I come busting out of my box and while I might be exhilarated at the freedom, I’m pissed at the confinement. I’m not necessarily Kind, though I do my best not to be Evil, even when I’m pissed and resentful. I have intense guilt when I transgress. I think it makes me a better person. On neurontin I had less guilty and less anxiety, I was happier overall, but I was less ethical! Apparently I need my guilt and anxiety to help me make choices that I can feel good about long term. I was mildly shocked at myself over and over.. No more neurontin. I’m not depressed anymore, I do alright at managing guilt and anxiety.., and if I transgress, I frankly feel that I deserve to feel bad and that I Should feel bad. That helps me make a wiser choice Next time.
Slept okay last night. Over 7 hours total.