My bad habits have changed from ‘these are good coping skills and they help’, to ‘need to stop, but can’t right now, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up’, to ‘pansy, you can do this, I know you can!’
It’s an uphill battle, these habits have been entrenched for so long. (for example, sleeping, the computer, going to the shrink’s office and trying to solve the impossible) I’m climbing up without a knot on the bottom right now, so that makes it harder and scarier to keep at it.
But climbing I am. It’s 9AM. It took me 15 minutes to turn off my alarm and get out of bed, but, I did not turn it off, or press snooze. I got up.
I am getting to the point where I am ‘consciously bored’.. I no longer melt into the computer, or something. I am still on the computer a lot, but I am conscious and separate from it, itching at the fact that I know I want to do something else.
(Don’t know what else to do, though)
But, I do have some ‘this is good for you’ things put down.. I am struggling to find other doable ‘good for you’ things, to fill up some space in a good way.
In the meantime, the only knot system I have right now is habitrpg.
(this helps too)
Anyway, you put your habits in there, good and bad, and your ‘to do’ tasks, and your daily things to do. It’s like a rpg game (that’s probably obvious, but anyway) You lose ‘hit points’ if you do a bad habit, or skip some of your ‘dailies’. You gain experience and gold for doing good things, as well as ‘drops’ – food, or ‘eggs’ to hatch pets. There are 90 pets. The zombie ones and the skeleton ones are just plain scary, but anyway. Of the pets, you can turn them into ‘mounts’. Also, you can buy equipment with all your gold. There’s a community there, too, but y’all know me, I don’t know how to open (or close) that door.
Here’s me, currently =D
I also have a lot of other ‘outfits’ to chose from, if that one gets boring!
You know that feeling when you’re suffering from ‘sob constipation? When you needed a good cry, but there wasn’t a good spot to do it in, so you held it, and now that there is a place you can’t get it out because you were holding it? I’ve got that going on at the moment.
There was a woman who spoke at an event today, about the cycle of abuse. She didn’t say it in a textbook way, she said it in a way I could understand. I wish I could have filmed it or something, I don’t remember anything now. But it gave me sob constipation.
She talked about witnesses, and the difference of that versus observers. She talked about getting angry. How victims of abuse would think things of themselves that they’ve been told over and over.. I wish I could remember it. I’m probably not getting it right right now either. This time I did come up and thank her without being an idiot (last time she touched my arm in an ‘I care’ attitude my tongue was tied because I don’t remember the last time that happened)
My core is separate from what my family does to me. I know I like myself and my potential life, and my core is strong in that. What they do hurts, but it can’t touch that inner center where I know who I am.
I’m finally angry.
And no one listens to my anger, or.. anything I have to say.
I love my two cousins with all my heart, and the family cat (not my cat, the family one I grew up with that was ‘my cat’ there). Unconditionally. I love the rest of the family, but that sometimes seems.. heavier? More conditional in a sense? But I want to adopt my cousins and steal the cat and live like that. That aunt is the most poisonous, I don’t know what’s real or not. She’ll ignore me at the drop of a hat, so I have to pretend, so, so, hard, at being normal, to try to stay present for those cousins at least. I am so so worried at how they fare at home, and the fact I can do nothing, only change my behavior. So I change it for the worse (not in an evil sense, but a.. neutered sense) and pretend the status quo is normal, just to be even present in their lives. I don’t know what’s more harmful. I’m probably enabling my aunt’s awfulness by trying to be neutered, but I’m not there, maybe my cousins are doing okay. Not to my eyes though.
My parents feed the cat shit like Meow Mix. The poor dear weighs a ton, smells bad, and her fur looks like she hasn’t seen a shower in months, if that makes sense. She cleans herself okay, but her hair is greasy and flaky at the same time.
I wish I could take all of them, I love them so much.
The sob constipation probably started a few days ago, at group. In the middle of talking about a point, I realized another point. The reason my apartment doesn’t feel like home is.. that I’ve never had one. So mentally and emotionally my foot is figuratively outside the door. I’m on high alert, and even lounging on the couch won’t soothe it. So even though I literally have my own, safe place to stay, I’ve never had that anywhere else. Some were more extreme than others, but the one that was the worst, obviously, is that I was never safe in my parents’ house. My room was never ‘mine’. It was made clear that it was their house, I was just living in it. My ‘room’ was cleaned when it didn’t match dad’s standards, same with my possessions. If that wasn’t by my mother’s standard, it would go to goodwill. Which isn’t even mentioning how I myself am treated, which is even worse.
So, cycle of abuse? I’ve finally gotten angry enough to say something. I sent an email, and called mom, about it. That really really sucked, so never mind that. When do I.. give up.. on them? Excommunicate them and move up to Maine? I’m not going to do that, but, I need to do something, for the sake of myself.
(I tried to go to the LGBT night at a bar here to cheer me up. I got all touchy feely with a guy, and he was back, but in the end, he was straight. The entire dancefloor was straight people, the gays lurking miserably on the sidelines. So, he was straight, and I’m a cliche, hahaha )
So things suck with my family, but nothing is new there. I have never ever ever ever been a planet for anyone, people on the same planet, who are cool with the other people on their planet. I’m the satellite, far away. Sometimes I’m not even allowed in their orbit.
The girl I’m seeing doesn’t want to be planets either.
I’m a bit tipsy, and maudlin. I never want to drink again.
I am so, so tired of never having my feet on the ground with anyone. People need some gravity.. some place to have their feet on the ground. No one wants me on their ground, and I am ensconced in self hatred right now, because my ‘feet’ must be dirty and stupid to never be worth anyone else’s energy or time.
My sister is kind of a kindred spirit, but she doesn’t give a shit either. I have cousins who do care, but their mom is like Mrs. Coulter. I can only tell them with my eyes that I’m there.
That aunt used to be my favorite aunt, but now she flips on a dime to that awful metallic mode. She cut me off for a year recently. I’m only semi allowed to exist in her orbit now.
I can tell I’m losing my cousins too. I’m losing them.
I’ve lost my ‘family of origin’. Going back to the house for holidays is hell. You know that feeling of when it’s really really cold out, and you come inside your house, but your muscles and bones still hold the memory of the intense cold for awhile? I’m doing that. I don’t know what’ll help. I fucking hate drinking, but I did it anyway, and also did it nearly every night at my parents’ house to try killing the parts of me that cared, at least for a time.
Now.. is not a good time. I want to curl up and freeze to death, because nothing is warm.
I’m learning more what’s Forbiddden.
Can’t talk about the queer, can’t talk about the crazy.
What’s almost worse is the flat affect I get when I talk about anecdotes: One of the bus drivers, turns out, is just a big an Elvis fan as I am. I put myself under all sorts of shields when I told my aunt that one silly thing.
At home with the immediate family, I am used to pretty much everything I say in that sense, small talk, tastes, opinions, anecdotes, get skewered for being wrong, stupid, bad.
(I said all this in group, the question was where are we at, is group helping. I mean two people were on my side, but then the last person to share was closed mouthed as anything. We both do that.. and this time I didn’t, and they still did, and I felt like my sacrifice was for naught, like I was betrayed, haha)
Okay, but anyway. The wrench.
I emailed my aunt about a photo on facebook, asked her to take it down, pre transition, whatever. She emailed me back, hasn’t been on facebook for over a year, but she’ll try to take it down, etc.
But she called me by my birthname. In email. Emailing me, typing out my birthname. This is weird and concerning, to me. It’s been four years, she’s seen me as I am now, -feminine I am not- and she wrote it down in an email. I didn’t even care in an it’s about me, *dysphoriaaaa!* way. I mean I did, but to myself, it was just a twinge of ‘eeecch’ – as it goes, you know. I was outwardly concerned about her, so I called up dad, and mentioned it. That’s the wrench: I brought up the queer, more specifically the trans. I knew it’d be awkward, I knew it’d bring things to a stop and there would be a ‘smell’ for awhile from, danno, rainbow farts =D
But I was worried about my aunt, because, and dad said so too, it was ‘disconcerting’, that she did that.
‘the year is 2214.. dusty hard drive.. write a note for the person buying it…’
What has my mother done now, you ask me.
Well, that pivotal moment when I chopped off all my hair to transition and whatever? Years ago. The hair was there, I was going to donate it to locks of love. Mom took it. I swear she said she’d do it, donate it, or throw it out.
I asked a few years ago, she still had it.
I just asked again.
And she still has it.
I feel violated.