The kids broke open the bag of chocolate chips (the penultimate bag in the house–we'll see how long the last one remains) and I couldn't keep my hand out of it. So I made cookies. I figure this way I can make the chocolate chips last more than a day.
I can't cut any more. I'm going to go have another cookie. Fuck you brain.
Yesterday I turned 30 and realized it was now half my life ago that I was institutionalized. I’ve spent the day with body memories of being strapped to a table while I fought and screamed. My body hurts and feels overly sensitive. I feel scared. I have tried to talk about it when and where it is useful.
Mostly I just try to make it through another day of being me. Today was a harder day than many. I hope that tomorrow involves less terror, anger, rage, crying, and pain. These are old ghosts. They may look like they are winning a pitched battle today, but I can outlast them. I’m still alive.
So everyone has times when their behavior doesn’t exactly match up with their stated positions/world views. It’s a normal thing. There are a few ways this can be dealt with. Someone can more or less subconsciously refuse to look at the discrepancy and continue on their merry hypocritical way–I think this is the majority reaction really; it is certainly the easiest. You can examine your world view more closely and decide that it no longer works for you and you should change it to align with your behavior. You can examine your behavior more closely and decide that it is inappropriate and you need to change it to align with your world view. Or, as Noah points out, you can look at your world view and behavior and decide they both kind of suck and change both. I think this last one is uncommon and maybe a bit drastic. 😉
This got really really long. Continue reading
Last night I spent some time with the California Mindfucker. I have some really awesome friends. 🙂 I really really appreciate that I can call up my friend the Master NLP practitioner and he’s happy to go hang out with me for a while and help me deal with some of my big painful mental issues and help me get my head on straight. That is just so rad.
To follow up on that: I’m really not so freaked out about the upcoming birth. There is still work for me to do there to get properly excited and to work on getting back in my body (I’ve been incredibly disassociated for a long time) but that’s not something he can do for me. He did a great job of taking the anxiety away and he was only mildly smug about it. 😀
It was probably also very useful for him to beat me over the head with the idea that if I was in trouble there would be droves of people who would show up to help me. On one hand I feel like I want to tell him it wouldn’t happen–people wouldn’t bother. But he’s right, people would show up. It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around the fact that even though people don’t have the time to spend with me all the time they would absolutely be there in an emergency. It’s kind of a weird sort of security. He pointed out that I am really good about showing up when other people have an emergency and that karma really does come back to you. Believing in that takes a kind of faith I struggle with but I’m trying.
And then I came home and talked to Noah about it and explained some of where the anxiety is coming from and he committed to being home for six weeks. It was looking like he was going to be home for a lot less time for this birth and I was really feeling upset about that and not being good about communicating my fears/needs/wants around this birth and when I got around to really saying what was going on for me he is absolutely willing to do what I need.
It’s been really hard lately expressing my needs. I have too many of them. I feel really bad for having so many needs. I feel like I am asking too much of Noah. I am avoiding talking to other people because I would rather sit home just not getting my needs met than risk asking and being told no. That hurts too much. I’m not sure what to do about the fact that there is a tremendous amount of stuff that is just not getting done because I can’t do it and I feel ashamed of asking for help. Pregnancy is the most humbled I have felt in my life. I don’t want to impose on anyone. It seems as though bad stuff is crashing down on just about everyone I know. Everyone is suffering right now and I just can’t add to that for anyone. So I just do without help. Noah and I are muddling through the absolute essentials, but there is a big gap between the absolute mandatory essentials and all the stuff that really should get done. It’s really hard when I think about the fact that much of it will have to literally wait for a year. That’s such a long time.
But! I made progress on one of my biggest points of anxiety. That’s important.
I haven’t been posting filtered stuff. As a result I have ceased to feel safe posting about some of the stuff going through my head and I’m tired of feeling like I can’t post on my journal. So I’m back to filters. This isn’t a particularly broad filter. There are many cases of one person in a partnership being on this filter when the other person isn’t. I’m not asking you to keep secrets from your partner but I would prefer if you didn’t go out of your way to bring this stuff up. I still like all of your respective partners I just don’t want to be argued with right now.
Once again I’m obsessing about weight. This time, luckily, not my own. Shanna hasn’t gained a full pound in the last nine months. If she doesn’t gain some weight this month she will have fallen from the 89% to the 9%. If I stop and think about that real hard I feel like I must be doing something wrong. I’m not sure what I am doing wrong. I am giving her as much food as she wants. I nurse on demand (sometimes half the night). Should I stop letting her have water and replace that with something that has calories–like more milk? Should I stop giving her vegetables because they have almost no calories? She doesn’t really eat meat. At this point she is probably up to ten bites of meat in her life. She poops and pees well above what is considered the minimum for this age. She is getting taller like mad–that is still up in the 70-something%. She runs all day. She is meeting all of the developmental milestones months early, some of them as much as four months early.
I’m having a hard time feeling confident that her body is doing what is right. I want to believe it, but I feel really bad right now.
See, this is why I married him. We spent hours and hours talking last night. We went through all of the things that are bothering me, all of the myriad of ways that I’m upset/nervous/insecure. It was really good. He listened when I was ranting and gave me constructive feedback when I calmed down. We talked more specifically about why this is happening. It took coming up with some silly examples before I could get him to understand what this feels like. He’s a big foodie. I asked him how he would feel if I went up to The French Laundry with someone else and left him at home. He said that would upset him a lot. Ok, now you have some idea of how I feel. It’s not really as bad as all that but this is really hard. I feel like if I can get through this to the other side things will be ok. Let me rephrase: things will be ok when I get through this. No doubt in there. It’s like freaking out about getting blood drawn. It’s not my idea of a good time but afterward there won’t be a problem anymore.
Why do relationships have to be so complicated?
In general I don’t make posts that Noah can’t see. This is one of those times though. I feel like I’m going to puke. I’m so angsty and upset and freaked out. Noah has a date on Friday. When we originally started negotiating this it was stated as a “play date” and I come from the bdsm community where that frequently doesn’t include sex–that is my base assumption. But they are negotiating whether or not to use barriers on oral sex and he plans to fuck her.
I am so freaking out. My stomach is a ball of knots and I want to vomit. I hate this feeling. It doesn’t help that Shanna is having a hard day and I’m having a terrible time being patient with her. I was very open to the idea of playing but it snowballed so fast. We were supposed to have sex last night (yes we schedule these things) but I just couldn’t do it. The idea that he is anticipating and planning sex with someone else made me feel really revolted by the idea of him touching me. I don’t know how I am going to manage to have sex with him on Saturday at a play party when we’ve scheduled that.
This is so hard for me. I feel so completely inadequate and pathetic.
I’m doing at least some processing with him but it feels like a full dose of it wouldn’t be fair. This is the result of a lot of negotiation because it really sucks that he has to compromise on his needs so much.
But god I don’t have patience for Shanna right now and she’s been crying all day. AHHHHHHHHHH
I’ve been having a lot of anxiety lately. I feel anxious about all kinds of things. The comp exam, interactions with people, am I doing ‘enough’ in various ways, and of course my ever present internal push to be Mary Poppins. (People keep saying Martha Stewart and Hell No I think she is a wasteful twat.) I don’t keep my house clean enough. I feel confused by the barrage of information out there about health and diet and trying to be good to the planet. I feel confused by the myriad of different parenting philosophies. I feel like I am not being a good enough partner to Noah. I feel like I am not exercising enough. I feel like I must be doing Something Wrong as a parent. I don’t have any frame of reference for ‘normal’ for children so I have no idea if she is doing alright. (I think she is, but how in the hell would I know?) I alternate feeling kind of lonely and feeling like I am tired of dealing with people and it would be fine if I never saw anyone ever again. I feel frustrated by stupid interactions. I feel like I am being judged and found wanting in just about every way. I realized yesterday that my mother plans to come up here for Shanna’s first birthday party and she plans to fly to Oklahoma in July. How in the hell is she going to pay for that? Wait–is she going to expect me to? I am feeling a lot of pressure to save money and yet it seems like one of the easiest things I can do to help me not stress out all the time is spend money. (I think I’m fairly frugal but of course there are people out there who are more frugal so I feel like I am awful and terrible.) I have this problem of feeling like if I am not in the top 10% of (x) skill/ability/talent/whatever/activity then I am obviously pathetic and a loser.
That paragraph is hard to read. That’s how my brain looks right now though. I’ve never heard of postpartum anxiety but this doesn’t sound like postpartum depression. I’m not sad. I’m just anxious. I’m not happy with the fact that having a baby made it so that I don’t enjoy sex much. What the fuck happened? I enjoy the closeness and the intimate feeling, but it’s just not all that… exciting. I feel really fussy about having to be the one to initiate dates and sex when most of it is happening because it helps Noah stay cheerful. I understand that I have to be the one to initiate because I’m the one who can get Shanna to sleep most of the time, but still. I don’t feel sexy or interesting anymore. I gave a friend most of my ‘interesting’ clothes this weekend. I have weird feelings about that. On one hand I won’t be able to wear any of it for a long time (I’m too fat) but I feel like I just gave up on being interesting. I’m not worth looking at like that anymore. I’m completely de-sexed. I’m really thrilled that she is getting to enjoy the clothes though and I’m happy she is going out and having fun. So I get to feel like I’m a nice person for assisting her in fun and I get to feel like I’m just kind of pathetic and lame because I’m not having that kind of fun anymore. It’s a mixed bag.
So yeah. I feel like my brain is going close to a mile a minute lately and there isn’t much I can to do calm down and just feel content. My life is where I want it to be and that is hard. I’ve always been striving in the past and I don’t know how to stop doing that. I need to find my zen and just be happy in knowing that I accomplished (almost) everything I wanted to accomplish. It’s ok that my house isn’t perfectly clean–it doesn’t make me a bad person. Noah doesn’t care. I actually don’t care that much of the time. I worry about the hypothetical people out there who do care. I feel like they think I am pathetic because “You have all that time at home and your house is still dirty?!” It’s all about projecting stuff.
And I’m still freaking out about my therapist being dead. I wonder if that is part of the reason I have so much fuss bubbling to the top right now because I just found out that I can’t go process any of it with the person I process with. AHHHHHHHHHHHH
I get too upset about stupid things. I got all excited about getting my mom’s recipe book and I decided that I was going to make Every Cookie Recipe In It. But you know what? That’s not realistic right now. I am stressing myself out for something really really stupid. It’s time to remember that I am supposedly a grown up and get over this.
My goals need to come down to a more reasonable level. No one expects that I be superwoman except for me. If I say, “You know, I didn’t manage to make your favorite cookies because Shanna kept me busy” no one is going to hate me.
I still feel bad. I’m kind of dumb sometimes.
I don’t like that the tired bear cries. I’m not crying.
I have always gravitated towards computer geeks. Back in high school I used to sit in the background while they coded and I fell asleep at the MST3K showings. I wanted to be around them, but I’ve never shared their passions and interests. It’s always been hard to find things to talk about. This has only compounded as I’ve gotten older. I don’t share interests with most of my friends so I sometimes wonder what exactly makes us friends.
For quite some time I’ve been aware that my interests: psychology, literature, my students when I was teaching, and now Shanna are not shared by most of my social network. As a result most socializing consists of me trying gamely for the first 10-30 minutes then slinking off to a corner while Noah talks to people. I should specify that this is group socializing. One-on-one people usually demonstrate an interest in hearing about my life but then again the number of people who want to have one-on-one time with me is quite small. I’m not particularly sad that there aren’t more people, quality over quantity and all that. I am sad that they have busy lives and I don’t see them much.
I’m fairly tired of feeling like my interests are boring. It isn’t that my interests are boring it is that I am hanging out with mostly adamantly child-free people who only want to talk about technology. I am starting to feel hostile about the degree to which many of my “friends” are dismissive of the things that interest me. Maybe it’s time to start pulling back from social groups. This is a pretty easy transitional time. I want group interactions but unless they are about sex I don’t know what to talk about. *sigh* Time to find some new people I guess.
She has Noah’s hairline. I didn’t notice, my mom pointed it out. It looks like her nose is becoming more like mine (or at least how mine was when I was a tiny baby). She likes to be as cold as Noah. I’m sitting in the air conditioned living room fully dressed under a blanket and they are both naked–and happy about it. Odd.
I’ve been really moody this week for no good reason. I’m trying to not lash out at Noah though because he’s really awesome and hasn’t done anything–uhhh anything bad. He’s done lots of good stuff. As a result of me petulantly telling him earlier this week that I felt like he wasn’t paying enough attention to me he devoted a full freakin day to reading me The Golden Compass. The whole book. That wasn’t a stated goal of the day, he just never stopped reading. 🙂 It’s a really good book.
I’ve been fussing at Noah about my various guilt complexes and he is patiently helping me with them. I’m so lucky to have him. I feel like if I am going to stay home I need to become Super Woman and do everything around the house as far as cleaning goes and cook interesting food every day and take perfect care of the kidlets and work on other projects and be a stimulating and interesting partner for him. But I can’t physically do all of those things in a 24 hour day. It’s not reasonable. But I feel crushing guilt because I should be able to!! I’m a failure if I don’t!! He says that’s silly though. So we are talking about maybe the best approach is to figure out how many hours a week I should spend on different things and still be reasonable about it. So I’m trying to figure out what is a reasonable schedule for me. See, this is challenging due to the word “reasonable.” I’m not sure I’ve ever had a reasonable schedule before. I tend to have an outrageously packed schedule and by golly I Get It Done. I’m kind of deranged really. I get it done if it makes me miserable and I’m crying and sick and underslept and treating everyone around me like shit. But I get it done.
Yeah… this isn’t optimal in terms of long-term sustainability and given that I can no longer treat my life as a series of sprints towards individual goals I need a different approach. So what is sustainable for me? In all honesty I can sustain a much higher level of productivity than average, but I get cranky. What level of activity will keep me in a good mood? That’s a harder question. I think this is going to take some trial and error. I also need to get over the idea that I should now be taking care of everything in the house for Noah. For one thing it isn’t reasonable. For another thing… he wouldn’t actually like it. He likes doing stuff for me and even though he does enjoy his down time he likes being able to help me as well. Balance.
Then there is this little complication of the munchkin. See… she wants to be on me all the time which I really love. Unfortunately sitting around with her on my lap makes it hard for me to do stuff. She does not like feeding on the move and screams her head off if I try to feed her in the wrap. She’s fine with sleeping in it, but not eating. The problem is transitioning to the wrap once she’s asleep. If I have the wrap tied on it’s not too hard but feeding her while wearing it is kind of inconvenient. I may have to just suck that up. This may be easier when feeding happens less often.
And I’ve totally lost my train of thought cause my mom called. Uhm… The End?
So I got to play on Saturday. That was fun. It was a pretty decent scene. We asked one of my dearest friends to join us and it was all happy and fun and such. Except for that crying part. That was less “happy”.
Yesterday was a complete and total roller coaster day and I think it was cause of of playing. I went between angsty and fussy and angry all day. (It didn’t help that my tummy felt awful for a lot of the day and it was 77 degrees so my body was like WTF IS IT SO HOT FOR. I don’t like warmth much.) So I try to process. Cause I’m like that.
I was irritated because yesterday the marks from the scratching (with a knife) made it really hard to sleep after playing so I got almost no sleep Saturday night. I’m having a lot of trouble sleeping on my side in one position all night anyway–having to do it on *one* side because the other side was mucho owie just caused problems.
I also found that in retrospect I had a hard time dealing with the fact that Noah and our friend were both trying to push me in terms of how much pain I could handle. When I settled into a given level of ouchie they upped it. Then upped it. Then upped it. Until I broke down crying. Then they went “ahhhhh” and stopped and were lovey and affectionate. Yesterday I felt like, “Why did you need to push until I failed?” So much of what is happening to my body right now is beyond my control and I feel like I am sucking over and over. I’m not sure it was a good thing to push things until I broke. 🙁 I still feel like a failure because I couldn’t handle what they wanted to do to me. Ok, I know that they were going to keep pushing and pushing for a long time, but in my competitive masochist sort of way I don’t like it when I have to cry uncle first. So I’m mad at me and kind of mad at them. (Not real mad. Still glad I got to play at all.)
I’m also fussy because I think I want to fire one of our birth classes. No, I don’t want to come draw a picture and tell you how I feel about it. I did that shit when I was officially crazy as a teenager and I don’t want to fucking do it now. I’m feeling really angry about the lack of information in the class compared to the amount of woo-woo crap. (Uhm, no offense to any woo-woo types reading this. If it works for you, awesome. Is not my thing.) So If feel hostile and defensive when I go. Why am I going then? Oh, we had birthing class last night and I had to go argue with them telling them that no, I am not going to be “drawing my birth landscape so I can tell you how I feel about it.” I also didn’t appreciate being told that since my big focus in birth is that I want to trust my body and my instincts to tell me what is right over the random advice of other people that I should “soften around this idea because I’m not necessarily right”. I wanted to walk out right then. Because you know what you woo-woo bitch, you are exactly who I shouldn’t listen to.
And Noah wisely pointed out yesterday that I probably shouldn’t have any more lumps of lard and meat (but chicken nuggets are SO TASTY) because my stomach hurt massively all day after having it. Which probably contributed to me being such a bitch.
Ok, this roller coaster of emotions is getting old. I want off. And I woke up in a foul mood. I have class tonight. Awesome.
I have woken up in a bad mood for several days in a row and that is highly abnormal. Usually I wake up all sunny and happy. That’s why I consider myself a morning person. Even if I go to sleep in a bad mood I usually wake up happier. I’ve been going to sleep feeling fine and waking up kind of angry and fussy.
WTF?
I talked to my mom yesterday. I asked for clarification about something she said to me when I called to tell her about Francesca. I felt hurt by what she said then but I wasn’t sure she meant it the way I took it. So I asked. Novel. She clarified and I can see both why I took it the way I did and what she meant and how what she meant wasn’t so bad. It was good. This whole “asking for clarification” thing seems to be working out.
I keep waffling between grieving hard for Francesca and being numb and forgetful. I feel like I am in a fog a lot of the time. I’m still pushing hard to get stuff done to the house this week. Classes are supposed to start tonight and I’m having registration issues. (My department has record of me filing for leave, registration doesn’t. @#%@(#)$) This week is the last really hard push for house stuff because the open house is this weekend while we are in Pittsburgh. After that, the house is pretty much going to be whatever it is. Tough titty said the kitty!
That means that starting on Monday my life is going to calm down. I won’t have a job. I won’t have obnoxious parents to deal with. I won’t be working on the house semi-frantically. I will have: school two nights a week, a really heavy reading load but that’s not scary for me, my frequent rounds of appointments (acupuncture, therapy, midwife, Chris pictures), and I need to start prenatal yoga and birth classes. Oy. I keep reminding myself that this is *less* stress/time commitments than I am used to.
*fret*
*worry*
*angst*
Ok, I’ll try to stop being a moron now.
The last few days have been pretty incredibly up and down. I’ve been hit really hard with emotional stuff for a variety of reasons. Getting through this has been very difficult. I wouldn’t exactly say that I feel great or fine at this point, but I’m working on feeling less crappy. I feel like I’m past the honeymoon phase on some things in my relationship but I don’t know if that is so or if my body is going nuts from pregnancy hormones. All I know is that some things are being much harder right now than I can remember them being. There are some very specific people who came through for me on Thursday night and I am so incredibly grateful that I have such amazing people in my life. Thank you and thank you and thank you again. I love you so much.
Last night I went to a party where I knew maybe 10% of the people and it was a crowded party. I had more social anxiety than I have had in a long time. It didn’t help that my stomach was hurting basically the entire time I was there and that limited my interest in being actively social. Being that close to hoards of humanity was difficult so I spent a lot of time hiding in corners. I did get to talk to a few people whom I rarely see and that was pleasant. In the past around this social group I have been pretty boisterous and I noticed how different the atmosphere was when I could not manage that. I think my one regret was that when I sucked up the courage to ask someone to dance I was turned down and I didn’t have the courage to ask anyone else. *shrug* I generally have about one dance per day in me at this point and I really don’t have the chutzpah to push for partners the way you have to when you aren’t one of the “in demand” dancers. Such is life.
Tonight is the DHP. I’m torn between being excited and being terrified. I’m scared that no one will show up. (I know that at least some people will though.) I’m scared that an enormous crowd of people I don’t know will show up. (The hazards of an open-invite party.) I’m sad about scheduling conflicts. (Such is life in this area.) I’m hoping that my body cooperates and lets me have fun. I’m hoping that more than five people show up whom I actually want to talk to. I’m hoping they show up *before* I pass out. (Or that they come late climb in bed with me so I can sleepily talk to them while cuddling. That could be good too. Uhm–if you worry that I wouldn’t want you in bed with me, probably a better idea to err on the side of caution. Please only do this if you really *know* I would want you to.) Well, we are most of the way to ready but of course there is still stuff to do. Time to get moving.
My job is always extremely demanding. Teaching an honors class has made that worse.
I’m also the technology “mentor” at this point because my coworkers are fucking morons and can’t figure out how to work basic websites. This means a bunch of people pestering me constantly.
Academic detention is driving me batty. I’m feeling quite tempted to just ignore the Fs for the rest of the year. If you come in and want to make up your grade, fine. But I can’t keep pushing people to do the work. It makes my life suck.
I can’t be the repository of all the problems of all the kids right now. I’m too tired and worn out. I have nothing left to give them.
I’m dropping all involvement with clubs. I need to spend my lunches staring off into space, not going to meetings.
I am going to drop some of the essays I had planned to give the honors class. I simply cannot spend 10 hours grading essays every three weeks. I can’t do it. Not on top of all the rest of the grading and prep.
I am not helping much with the TNG con. I feel horrible for dumping it on Jon, but I can’t do more than I am doing. 🙁
I’m supposed to be doing research on getting the house remodeled. Right now I am kicking myself for not getting this done last summer.
I’m not seeing my friends much. I’m doing a little bit of it because I feel like I *should* but I find myself feeling resentful of the energy output even as I am glad to see people. I am tired of having to leave by 8:30 because I feel like shit. It’s not like I can say, “Hey–let’s hang out during the weekend day” either because I’m always fucking working.
Hormones are kicking in and I want to cry a lot of the time. I feel so overwhelmed that I want to just give up. Why am I doing all this shit again?
I can’t have sex like I want to because I feel shitty all the time and I know that must be having a negative effect on my overall attitude and emotional state.
I don’t know what is going to give, but something has to.
My coworkers are shocked and dismayed that I want to leave off teaching public school to homeschool my children. They believe that my actions are why the system is failing. Uhm, maybe I am acting the way I am because the system is failing–I hardly believe I carry the weight of all the blame.
Academic detention still sucks. But at least 15 students have already pulled up their grades to passing. Only 26 to go… (Passing meaning a C or better.)
It’s amazing that I can cry all the way to school and then turn it off and be fine in front of the kids. Then fall to pieces again when they leave.
Got to tell the kids today that everything smells way more strongly so I need them to take showers more often cause they are making me sick. That was an awkward conversation.
Feeling better than normal for lately. Maybe it’s the cheese. Mmmm cheese. Still exhausted.
I have not had a history of good birthdays. Pre-18 most of them were either screamingly awful in every way or at least had some drama that soured them. 19 I spent with Anna. She brought me flowers and a balloon and took me to dinner. That was one of my best birthdays ever. 20 consisted of Anna and Tom giving me flowers and taking me to dinner. That was a pretty decent birthday. 21 was the temper tantrum Anna threw at BaGG because going reminded her of her own abuse history. 22 was totally ignored because we were going on a trip later that month. (Uhm… it’s for your birthday! Yeah! Oh, I was planning it anyway… oh well. Don’t get me wrong. The trip was awesome.) 23 was the awkward birthday party that Tom hosted after I broke up with him. Right. It was a good birthday party but so strangely uncomfortable. 24 I woke up and spent the morning crying because I knew Puppy wanted to break up with me. Then I spent the day watching Noah and his then girlfriend and feeling jealous with no way to express that. heh. 25 was mostly ignored.
My birthday is destined to go poorly. It just seems to be fate. I desperately wish that weren’t true, but due to circumstances beyond my control and having weird feelings about the event I don’t think I am capable of enjoying a birthday. I want to do something, but I don’t know what. Noah has suggested trips but I’m stupid and petty and my response is, “Oh yeah! Let’s duplicate that trip you took with how many ex girlfriends?!” I know I shouldn’t react that way. I don’t seem to be able to stop though.
I wish I knew what I wanted. If I knew what I wanted I could at least ask for it and hope to get it. But I don’t know. So I sit here and think–ok, Monday is another birthday. What did I accomplish in the last 12 months? I survived my first year of marriage without making him hate me. Woo hoo!! That is a big one. I painted my house. I survived teaching full time. But I still feel like something is missing. I feel like I am failing in some big, painfully obvious way because there is something I want and don’t seem to be able to have.
I hate my birthday.
Uhm, a note about this filter. I’ve taken people off of it because I am going through one of those major control freak periods where unsolicited comments I don’t like are really really bothering me. So I’ve cut back most of the people who make comments I don’t want to hear. Maybe that is petty, but this is my bloody journal and if I don’t get to write what I want here without being responded to in ways I don’t like I should just forget the whole thing. I label this filter pretty religiously so you know in advance that it’s the heavier shit.
Most of the time I don’t say too much about people commenting on stuff. I ignore stuff I don’t want to respond to or I take someone off a filter and that’s about the end of it. On this filter I’m going to ask everyone to think before you comment. I’m not saying that anyone has to sycophantically agree with me or suck up, just think pretty hard before you comment. If your comment is tangential or not really about what is being brought up, please don’t comment. This filter is where I write about a lot of the stuff that is the hardest for me. I let people read it because many people have expressed that they really want to see what is happening for me as I work through this stuff. But as people stop feeling safe for me to process in front of they are simply removed. It isn’t up for discussion or negotiation. If you feel like you no longer want to be on this filter, please let me know. I am happy to take you off.
I’ve been on a serious roller coaster ride emotionally lately and I don’t know why. No, I’m not pregnant; I checked. I’m crying at the drop of a hat. Everything bothers me in some way, either it makes me angry or it makes me sad or it makes me withdraw. I wish I could point at something in particular and say “That! That’s why I’m upset!” but I can’t.
Uhm, it’s longer than I expected. Continue reading