Willpower is Finite

I remember listening to a StuffYouShouldKnow podcast the other day on willpower – that it’s finite. Resist one thing and it’ll get harder to resist something else.

My mother called me twice in concern over my shoulder. At first I resisted contacting her back – saying to myself ‘I’m not falling for that again’.. (she’s a narcissist)

But ultimately I fell for that again and responded to her facebook message, poured my heart out on how much my shoulder hurts (injured it a few days ago) and got four words in response ‘hang in. How’s work’ and then nothing after that even telling her how work was, she ghosted.

People ghost a lot.

I tend to say to my shrink ‘no one cares about me’. Which is draining to her because she cares, I know.

I think what I mean by care is.. empathy. Sympathy.. I don’t know. I don’t feel that many people care about me in any good strong way. No one hates or loves me very much. I have two cousins who do love me, a cat at my parents house who does, a sister who does *sometimes*..  and all of these have a huge caveat, as you know.

 

So for family I know the ‘dance man’ rule well, and can tell exactly when and how I break it. I don’t know how to fix it when I break it… I think what happens is they see something interesting on the edge of the radar of ignoring me and come back for another show, and I’ll exhaustedly put on the monkey suit and dance again, because what else can I do?

I don’t know what the answer is at all when it comes to friends or lovers, because I don’t have any and I don’t know why, and no one will tell me.

So.. with no empathy towards me, I feel like I have no choice but to drink the poison of self pity, which makes me feel worse. I don’t know how to cope with nothing in the ‘belonging’ jar. I’m exhausted, I feel like I’ve tried everything. I am empty.

I am.

But honestly.. I am not.

 

Always the satellite, never the planet

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 threw a wrench in it (but I’m proud)

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.

Now What?

I have read a bit into Bear’s book, (go me!) and came across ‘glitter family’.

I miss them.. and here, when the veil is thinnest, (they’re not dead, just gone), I want to reach out to all those who have passed through my life, old friends that I wanted to call family.

But I know that’s really not a good idea.

…….

One of the bars here is holding a halloween party. Takes an hour to walk down there. I’m debating on whether I should go, and try. But, ‘and then what?’ is the question. I don’t have a drinking problem, per se. I’m not an alcoholic.

…but I am a former psychotic. And alcohol makes me feel like I’m losing it.

It’s really hard for me to feel safe anywhere, and alcohol just magnifies that sense tenfold. it’s like my core flickers wildly, and my shields are pulled outwards like cobwebs. As my insides roar, it’s hard to keep my tongue in my mouth, to keep ‘seated’ in a sense. I feel like I have to work hard to stay here.

Smoking, I can’t breathe, and that sends my anxiety everywhere. Smoking something else *ahem* if I smoke to much of it, I really feel like I’m close to losing it, and I have to sit there, and work hard to keep myself whole. Painkillers, I hate taking them. They do it too.

Anyway.

‘Just get a soda!’ you say. Ah, but there’s the rub – I actually do have a soda problem. I’m trying to quit, it’s been five days. I’m dying.

so, now what? It’s a ‘tradition’/stereotype, that queers have met in bars.. and for 20 somethings to drink. And, now what?? I’m socially graceless in general. If I have no ‘habitat’ in which to pretend to know what I’m doing.. now what?

Daily Post (In which yesterday, you came up with a name for a horoscope, and today, you write October’s)

Hold on, dear woodst.

The waves will be pushing against your heart, and you’ll feel the need to keep on your toes, and to keep the suit jacket on.

Who cares about the suit jacket? You know about the rainbow flag, and whatever the color of ‘madness’ is, hiding underneath, and maybe someone will see it some day.

But now is not that time.

I know you feel like jello, like too much water added to that strip of water colors you get from the dollar store, and you don’t know who you are now, and what you can manage runs across the canvas.

But you do see who you want to be.

So work on it.

Should I really move?

Shrink said I don’t fit here, that I’d probably do better in the city. I agreed, even if later I resented it. How come I can’t do it? Is it me, is it this place? Is it both?

The city is exciting, and my type of people. Together, and alone. Or alone, and together. On the train you feel united with these people who have pasts and are with you in this moment on an adventure, something in common with company you don’t have to talk to or perform for. Here it’s a together or alone situation, two extremes, you can’t blend or find your people very well. You’re in or out, and it’s hard to turn the volume up to eleven all the time because you can’t rest and move with the tide, they notice. And then you’re alone.

I always think ‘I’ve been here for ____’, not ‘I’ve lived here’. And that’s just really sad.

It’s been a few years, but maybe I have to wait longer, for healing.

And there’s that old bit about keep running, and it gets easier every time.

And damn, that sunset was amazing. The stars always take your breath away.

Which is fine because the air is clear as a bell =)

I can’t, anyway. I don’t have the money. I keep spending money I don’t have. Not so much on useless things.. it feels like the type of things like.. your bladder is full and finally you pee in relief, not so much giddy excitement in buying treats.

Regardless, it’s probably a bipolar thing anyway, I don’t know.

Can I at least get a good ball to bounce around in here?

mcqueen cooler

I can’t… do anything. My neurons won’t let me. I know what I should be doing for my bad shoulder, for example, my physical therapy exercises, which I’ve been slacking on, but I don’t know what to do about a broken brain. Depression, PTSD, anxiety, I know these things, and I know when they come up, they pass in time. I’ve got a few tricks here and there to cope with them, and sometimes they even work =)

But I don’t know what to do about a broken brain. I don’t mean it in a mood like way. I mean that, for example, I can’t read anything for more than ten minutes, for the most part, and that’s generally if I know it well and I read it many times before my neurons were shot to pieces. If that’s not the case, I’m lucky if I can absorb a few pages. It takes me a full day to watch a movie. I just rediscovered subtitles, and now I can understand what they’re saying, mostly, even if I can’t connect the pieces of what’s happening sometimes. (As I said, it takes me all day to get through it. My queue on netflix is becoming more and more of a wreck. I hope the rest of my family doesn’t look on my page).

I went to see the new Marvel movie in theaters when it came out. I love superhero movies. I barely understood any of it. I wanted to cry.

I can’t hold a conversation with people either, really. I don’t sound very intelligent, in speaking. I repeat myself, I can’t hold a debate, and I can’t hold one thought through to the end. Most people I know have run out of patience and stopped listening. I’ve fallen back on my old habit, of middle school, of trying to be as invisible as possible.

The therapist says to take a nonjudgmental stance, but it’s hard to do when in a mental sense of it, I can’t even hold a stupid spoon.

I’ve been slacking on everything else, like the physical therapy and whatnot, because I want to hold that spoon. But as I said, I don’t know how to fix it.

And of course, I have to be very careful not to mention anything of this to family. Not only is appearing weak a bad idea in front of my aunt, who is the mother of my cousins, (they’re the only people who look at me with anything resembling unconditional love, though I have to censor myself because of that aunt. The only time I didn’t, in trying to explain to the younger one why I changed my name, the oldest said ‘can we not talk about it anymore?’) That aunt will cut me off (again) if I am slightly left of normal. Showing any of them, aunt, immediate family, in general anything other than their dancing monkey, their eyes. go. dark.