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kismetkween · 8 months ago

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Selfie victim

There is a thing you can use called a "true mirror" or something to that effect. I saw it in a tik Tok video like 1 year ago. I was completely miserable and scrolling while sedated. I saw a video in which a woman in her early 20's was stopped at a new year's party by two men. They were seemingly harmless, and she was bubbly and intuitive, a harmless interaction.

He shows her to a trifold mirror. She has a soft black complexion with short curly hair, she has glittery makeup, black and gold. She has small straight white teeth behind shapely 2 toned lips with dimples on either side. A true, effortless beauty.

She quickly looks at the mirror and a range of emotions play on her face, she is confused by the interaction, then at the mirror in front of her, she realizes what she is seeing as the man explains to her, she is seeing a real image. She is used to seeing herself inverted on a selfie cam or in a mirror and the device in front of her allows her, to see herself, the way others see her.

Her smile and eyes light up, such a slow natural progression like she is seeing it as he explains it and she has the most beautiful smile ever. She radiates warmth and joy, and it truly was amazing to watch her realize this.

I believe I watched it like 2 or 3 times as one does for details and while strolling through the comments. The general consensus being "how beautiful she is, how many other people want to try, how much joy this experience brought her, you can do this with an inverted selfie, and I for no reason other than cynicism, commented "she will think about this every time she looks in the mirror and will never get the same satisfaction."

I saved it so I could, never reference it again and moved on. But she looked so genuinely happy and gorgeous that I thought about it several times the week following.

I don't know why I was thinking about this and looking in the mirror one day, miserable as ever, and decided to try the inverted selfie referenced in the comments. It was the worst thing I had ever done.

I had jaw surgery when I was 17 that considerably changed my face, I was also going through a period of excessive weight loss and the asymmetry was staggering. I could not look at myself in a regular mirror and now this inverted selfie nonsense was ruining my life. Not only is that what I really look like. That is how others see me.

One side low, one side high, not a single feature above my center, top lip was the same on either side. One almond eye, one round eye, one arched brow, one standard brow. Sagged undereye, highlighted under eye. The orbital socket on one side shaped like a lower case "g" on one side and a perfect round "o" on the other.

The nose was belled down with the panels that came off the side. I always looked as though I was wearing glasses over foundation and then took them off to reveal these highlighted patches on the side of my nose. I literally looked like Quasimodo.

When I was younger, I was obsessed with this chicken pox scar I had above one side of my lip and the asymmetry it caused. Now I always looked mid stroke. I am not being dramatic, I saw this. No one would be honest with me.

This was fine, but I had more evidence. When AI photos first came out, there was a trend in which you would submit a handful of photos and an AI program would generate art and animations with you in a variety of situations or generally reimagined. There was on 16th century painting generation I loved. I feel like it captured how I felt I looked and best of all it captured and recreated the severe difference in the two sides of my face. Different pupil sizes, eye shapes, jaw shapes, everything.

I continued to ignore it, but I knew it was there, I could feel it when people looked at me. I knew what they were seeing was not what I prepared in the mirror before I left.

All of 2023 this bothered me. I would occasionally checked in with new selfies and the more weight I lost, the worse it looked. Not to mention all the sagging skin all over my body.

Towards the end of 2023 it got worse. Before, there were days and sometimes weeks I could go without thinking about it. Or even better sometimes I could think about it and just accept it and not obsess. Now though? I would sit in the room with a person I loved and trusted and make them look me in the face and I grilled them. I made them look at my face and when they kept denying the difference, I would show them the pictures and they said they could not see it.

I would draw hash marks on my selfies and draw lines connecting like a graph or equation. I would show the missing spots or measurements and still nothing.

I believed them sometimes. Sometimes, I caved and could tell they were laughing it off because they felt trapped or uncomfortable.

In February of 2024 I started taking inverted selfies of my face and flipping them around every day. I started to look for things I could change. I started breaking it down into features.

What could I do to make my face more symmetrical? Where to start? Eyebrows, this had been an ongoing battle since I was younger. I started to look into permanent options to resolve the issue. I decided to have them micro bladed. Microblading is a procedure in which they take a blade and tattoo individual hairstrokes onto your brows. They create a shape and fill it in and now even newer methods they will use a soft "powder" to fill the spaces in between and make them look hyper realistic.

March 8th, I met the woman and explained to her very plainly "I am aware my eyes are 2 different shapes", " I am aware that I am dysmorphic " and "I know full well Symmetrical brows are not going to 'fix' my face nor is it their job to but I am kind of counting on them to tie the top half of my face together just a bit." She understood and I was a bit in shock when I left, they were bolder and darker and more solid than I had ever seen them. There was no washing them off or anything, they were just there. After a few days I loved them, but they did not accomplish what I expected them to.

Turns out, eyebrows cannot fix an issue deep down inside of you. But I do have new eyebrows and I like them quite a bit. It has been 3 weeks and in another 4 weeks I have an appointment to have them touched up. At the moment I want one or 2 spaces filled, I want the top line to be a little cleaner and I want to show her the photo, asymmetry issues/ photos and see if she has any feedback. I have very realistic expectations that relate only to my eyebrows.

The past few days however, each time I leave the house and I am in the sun for more than 3 minutes, my face breaks out in a red puffy rash. A "butterfly rash" or a "mylar rash." I have to take photos of this for my doctor and the best way to do it is to get high definition photos of my face from the rear camera of my phone. I was not prepared for that.

All day today I have taken photos of my face and compared them to the inversion tool I have frantically messaged my brother begging him to tell me the truth.

I don't understand that some people would rather be told they are beautiful even if they have a full understanding of what they look like. Rather than being told the truth. What if you had a conspiracy theory or puzzle, or mystery that plagued and vexed you every single day, only ANY SINGLE PERSON could solve it for you, the only payment for this effortless morsal of truth is to accept the fact that you are not conventionally attractive and hear it from another person. That is okay because you don't really but too much into being conventionally attractive and you already suspect you are ugly. You are willing to pay the price over a million times every day BUT everyone is playing a game. The game is a little pageant game we all play every day because madness is somehow better than bad manners.

Don't worry, today I have decided to take the facial metric. A "facial harmony test" It says it is to "identify problem areas, much like a clinician such as a dermatologist or aesthetician would in person, and transfer that ability to the assistance of a computer to pick-up on things they may either miss, or not even know about"

One review said” I was intrigued. The tool had broken my appearance down into a list of bite-size issues—a laser trained on what it thought was wrong with my appearance."

In my next post I will share and digest these results and go over how they aid or worsen my dysmorphia.

I wanted to come back and share that the analysis tool is down BUT after reflecting and being realistic I am going to finish my brows, then do filler under my eyes, Botox in my brow muscle to relax it, filler in one of my eyelids and the side of my jaw to balance. I want to have the fat sucked out of these panels on my nose. Then I will determine if I still need a nose job. I also want to get my hairline balanced by my brow lady. I know it seems like a lot, but it is comprehensive. I also need to resurface my skin and continuously lose weight.

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kismetkween · 8 months ago

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An exchange of control

“I try in vain to be persuaded that control is anything but the intersection of rage and desire.”

Today is an odd one, I went to my dad’s for Easter I did not pressure Ben to go. He had plans to fix his truck and help Chrissy move. The past week Ben and I have been sitting in the wake of the news that I am moving to Ohio. We decided not to divorce quite yet and play it separate. This has been very casual, and everyone is digesting it well.

His GF(ish) is moving into a new apartment and starting over from scratch. He has offered her some of our furniture from the garage storage to give her a head start. Kurt and I continue to work towards a life together we don’t know what that looks like, but we know we want to love and support each other in our quest to be the best versions of ourselves.

Ben and I have been together for 16 years. He has always yelled, and we broke up a lot and our day to day has been touch and go. Highest of highs and lowest of lows. I always thought we were a relationship and we loved each other and were strong and resilient and stayed together for better or worse.

Then there came a time when he yelled at me when I did anything I enjoyed, or when we tried to have a discussion or debate or if I did not respond to something he said properly. I carried guilt for losing interest, but it was not that, I can see that now. It was not wanting to put myself in the way again.

I lost my interest in sex but, … Who can bring them to fuck someone who hates them. I am not trying to be emo hate is the appropriate word.

Anyone, (even your partner) Who finds the places and times you are to be the most vulnerable (in your home) and then chooses to be the most malevolent presence in your life, they are not your friends and they do not like you.

If I am wrong how else am I to tell? Name-calling? check. Knowing the things I hate and doing them anyway? check. Being petty? check.

If I was going to a party and found out this person was going to be there… I would not go. If I found out this person was to be educating my son, I would not allow it. Why do I go home? Why do I allow?

I no longer feel bad.

It does not mean he is a bad person I do feel these things that spark his rage are born in a conflicting place for him. I just don’t want to participate in it anymore.

An example that became relevant today,

A few months ago, (find date) I was working, from home, I was trying to update a game so Sterling and I could play together later.

I asked Sterling to get my controller and start the update. Ben started helping him look, of his own volition, and I suggested moving the couch. To look under and in it.

He said something about the clearance of the couch to the floor and how would it fit under there, I did not understand why I was supposed to know that and why he was upset about me not knowing that.

We fought about it really badly, He called me a fucking idiot in front of my son. We went back and forth a bit longer about it and eventually got quiet. Noah stood between us, and I mumbled, “No wonder I want to fucking kill myself this is what happens when I try to have a good morning.” He piped back up that if I wanted to kill myself it was not his fault, it was because I was a weak person especially if that is all It takes to make me want to die” I called my dad and his mom. I wanted to leave but I didn’t.

Cut forward to today he is hauling around furniture he bought me to give to her. Here is where things confuse me. I have no interest, even at times I have tried to force myself or move parts of me around, they are burned and can no longer connect with him.

I even feel as though I have moved on at a higher level. I have found and loved and lost people more dynamic and more interesting. I am literally in love, and it is the best feeling ever. All he has done is like… fucked another and that does not interest me.

I definitely don’t envy her, or him...

I do, however, find it very very hard to admit I am not worthy of love. I cannot understand how she, a person he barely knows, is worthy of more respect and effort than his wife and the mother of his child. The person who does a lot for him. Who is always there to love him the day after he has fucked up. I have huge issues with these feelings of inadequacy.

He does not treat me as a person he loves or has ever loved.

I have written about this a million other times, but If I ask him to do something, or need his help with anything, it is always a huge fight. The kind with ugly words and screaming not the kind where you finger wag and say “boys will be boys” the kind where you wonder to yourself, who in their right mind wants to fuck a grown man who throws a fit about cleaning up after himself.

But honestly, he is generous and helpful... Just to everyone but me. Free car work for his friends and family, his sister or mother need painting, moving, yardwork? He is on it.

Others, people who only call when they need something, they had him for a whole weekend and he will call me annoying or needy if I called him and ask him when he is going to call him because I want him to spend time with me or his son.

Last week he and I got in to a screaming match where he mocked me and made fun of me and threw my words up in my face. Because he was laid up in bed all week with some girl and wanted me to do all the dishes while I was out of town. I refused.

His own dishes.

This sounds like old sitcom wife stuff but it bothers me on a fundamental level that is “why them and why not me... and if them and not me... why do I?”

But he moved an entire garage full of furniture for her on his only day off, on a holiday he could have been spending with Sterling. She needed it and she deserved it and he should have. It is not a matter of her getting more than me it is me seeing a baseline of his efforts and what he is willing to do for those people and then questioning why I do not qualify for those same efforts.

What is wrong with me and my all and why does it not compare to a common person and their bare minimum? I sometimes am just embarrassed.

Embarrassed that I am still here, embarrassed that I have not done anything effective to stop it. Embarrassed that, I have changed so much of myself to make it work, and given so much of my time to a person who does not want good for me. Who does not want me to succeed.

I think I am mostly embarrassed because it took me so long to realize. There is a part of me that is baffled, as I am not able to function in any other environment when I am humiliated. I don’t know how I am able to keep it together here. I think because I am using all my energy at home I do not have enough to do anything and it is just cyclical.

When it comes to the yelling itself. I have asked for it to stop for the entirety of our relationship and he says he cannot help it but it is a weak excuse.

In the past 16 years, I have seen him get so angry, blood boiling mad at his siblings, friends, and bosses and other people and he has never yelled at them. I have tried to counter this in anyway. I have tried fixing the issues that he is mad about, I have tried talking to him, emailing him calmly, I have tried walking away, shutting down conversations and even try yelling back.

When I consistently used that approach, it was when his niece was here, this was just following I would say, that happiest period we had, the most relationship success we had. I complained a few times to him mom and sister who simply replied “yell back” it seemed just that simple. Maybe I had been overthinking it. Also it seemed to solve the issues I was having with my niece witnessing the yelling. I didn’t want her to think I was just, “taking it” I wanted her to see strength but instead I showed her desperation, being backed in a corner.

Either way the irony came when he sent me an email telling me that if I cannot stop yelling I need to leave his house along with several other threats to my security (not my safety.)

So why does he do it to me if it is unsuccessful, and it is not a method he uses with anyone else? If I ask him I always get confirmation of my greatest fear. The problem is me, my issues, my health, my inability to understand. I am constantly changing. There is no way that every single version of me has been a problem.

I know he is wrong whether he means it or not. He does mean it though. If he is in a good mood later, if he is better and open to discuss it I have begged for apologies that he has told me I do not deserve. I have given him a thousand sorries he has not earned just so he does not have to carry the weight around with him. I donot believe he does not care how I feel, I believe he wants me to feel badly.

I have seen his behavior with Chrissy, He wines and dines her, goes to restaurants he hates, he showers, he cleans the room, cleans the house, he doesn’t disrespect her, he helps her with tasks. He treats her like a person.

He won’t clean up after himself if it helps me, he WANTS me to work around him. He will not even wash the sex of someone else off of him before he crawls into my bed in the middle of the night because he wants me to be uncomfortable.

I want to be treated like a person by everyone but especially a person I have to face at my most private and vulnerable, in my own home. I want all I do for him to be valued and in return I simply want to not be abused.

He could have done these things for me, when I asked him too, long ago. He didn’t because he didn’t want to. He did not want to give me effort. If I say these things need to change or I go, and he does not fix them, he wants me to go.

The amount of time I have stayed where I am unwanted is embarrassing but It took so long for me to realize this is abuse. Halloween really did it for me I have written about it a bit but not always in the mood to reflect on it.

Now that I have a plan to leave though… I cannot put it back in the box. I cannot unsee it as abuse. Even if I am humiliated I need to go back to whatever lobotomized state that allowed me to stay and ignore the obvious.

Because the fear, and humiliation and anger at wasted time makes it so hard to stay. I don’t want to waste another minute. 71 days I keep telling myself. I just can’t pretend enough to make me stay or ruin all my progress. I think that is what scares me the most.

Long story, less long. As he was moving the couch, after all the damage has been done and we both have new partners, when I can never look at him again without seeing every name, he has ever called me, the controller fell out of the couch.

I don’t care about the controller. I bought a new one that day without rage. Knowing things get lost, living in the world in which we have to pivot. Where abuse will not unlose things or unruin relationships, or uncall someone an idiot.

But it has taken me months to realize that he never cared about the controller either. When he found it, He brought it to me, beaming with pride, waiting for me to thank him. Waiting for me to tell the story where he was the hero. He cared not about the controller but control. For so long, he wanted to control me. Not even for what I was offering just so things don’t change for him. I used to be more angry, more willing to fight, sometimes I was the opponent he needed. I would fight my own nature to be what he needed. I think it validated him. I think all his life he has waited for someone to fight for him and not against him. He has trauma too and I acknowledge that but when mine has been an issue, I fix it. I take time off work, I get medication, I talk to therapists, I change things. When I asked him straight forward, are you going to change, and he said he had no interest in changing, I knew there were no longer things here that he can control.

I see the irony, the OCD girly is remarking to others about control, but I am also willing to change to be kinder. To be nicer and I need an environment that supports that.

I don’t know how to say this other than the fact I am wildly dynamic. But I don’t think he is bad, I don’t think he is a bad guy. I think we are like most couples, we did fine for a long time and somewhere along the way we started putting fights off for later and so many unresolved issues came up, and everytime we speak ot think of the other so much hurt and ugly comes out and no one wants to be hurt and ugly all the time. // I know this just seems like a wild rant with no point but the point is, I am releasing my guilt, I carry it no longer. I do have a touch of guilt about introducing Ben and Chrissy, I don’t think it was very “girls’ girl” of me but ... I don’t think he will be cruel to her. I think they can find peace and happiness and I don’t believes he deserves to be alone.

There is so much more to discuss but I hope to be more coherent with my thoughts..

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kismetkween · 8 months ago

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Missing Day 3/27

Days forgotten are the most needed. Where the most is learned.

What I know about March 27th. An investigation.

I was sad. Really sad, it was a Wednesday, and I was supposed to do overtime. I did not according to my timecard.

I was sad, really sad. I know the day before I had a panic attack, but I cannot remember about what. If I had to guess I would say it is about the abundance of pedophilia I encountered. It is just everywhere, a documentary, the news, a reminder, a joke, plus Kurt's situation. it seems inescapable at times. I also know at 136pm I sent a message to Kurt, advising him that I was "not feeling good" which is code for "I am in crisis" and then an hour later I sent him a message saying "getting worse, 1st and second round sedatives. I don't need anything, I just want to let someone know." I also sent that message to Ben an hour following "not having a good mental health day, I just need a nap."

I have some messages back and forth with Ben about household stuff. Have you seen my watch, the mail, the packages, Sterling's schedule. etc. I ended the 27th by sending Kurt a letter I do not remember sending. I also took and sent 2 pics.

It says, "Kurt, you were perfect the past few days. It is not your job to 'handle me' or deal with my BS but the patience and love you showed me at my low is so reassuring and validating. Not to mention I handled everything differently than I usually do because I genuinely wanted to get better. Rarely has there been a time where my moods have sunk that low and not spanned several days or weeks because I was not interested in resolving it. When you hate yourself, you don't care if you get better. But I hate myself significantly better. I know I love you and I know I want us to work but the one thing I have only gotten small glimpses of... is you as a day-to-day partner. and you keep knocking it out of the park. I cannot wait to show you the love and partnership you deserve. we are so close."

He was perfect of course. but last night, after working on this site and entering Ideas into my notes while in bed I found an entire post that begins, " it is March 27th.

"Today is march twenty seventh and I'm trying to find out why I'm unwell. I'm depressed in a major way. My life is honestly taking off. And it's good different but good. But I'm starting to detach the way I used to. I want to push things away. I want to not be perceived. I want time to stop so I can catch up. It is also very clinical and subconscious. As days go by, I need to eat and spend money, bills accumulate, memories fade, each day is another day not saving and another day not working out, another day of calories and another day of not writing these memories that are fading. I can't help but think about how great things would be if they were written down as I thought them. One of the few positives this time is that I want to get better. At least I'm trouble shooting. The shower might help, a nap maybe, cleaning off the couch for sure, something productive. I should have done it over time. And I guess it's not too late, but my gut won't let me. I don't want to talk to Kurt because the phone money just ticks down and down and I'm not able to pay right now and he likes to remind me and discuss the quality not quantity of our calls and I have no quality at this time. My company may not be valuable. I'm generally blue about funny about everything I guess I also keep saying blue when I mean majorly depressed. Like a low, low. Also, I'm afraid if I talk to Kurt without getting better, he will say I am blue because of Ben,(telling him I am moving to ohio) but I'm not. I guess I'm a little blue about the situation.

I don't have a giant secret that keeps me glowing and I'm a little sad that my perfect plan in my perfect imagination is being picked apart by real people in my real life. I can put my fists on my hips. And chin to the sky and declare, "I'm going to do what makes me happy and put my feelings first, and not care if it hurts others", but it is hard to look them in the face and see the hurt. It's hard putting their feelings first and loving them in that way for so long. Then to Gas them up about how loved they are and this is the only way I know how to love to spare my feelings to soften theirs. Then abruptly stopped doing that. I still love them, but it has changed the way it's manifesting. It is hard for me to make myself a safe place where everything is as it will be. And nothing ever differs, and you can come back and it will be the same. In this world where time cannot stop and you cannot catch up. There has to be someone or something that stays the same. And that might be a love that I've given and received. Yes, one of the most powerful ways I love was to be a consistently safe place but that is also often the only reason I am loved. Because no matter what I will love them tomorrow. So if their love is conditional, am I wrong for changing the way my love manifests? Or if I break the vow that made me well-loved in the first place.

I know, it sounds like I'm trying to romanticize doing absolutely nothing and having no ambitions but that is not the case. internally, the engines are at full speed all the time and sometimes they overheat, and we you get a day like today. (At least I hope that's all it is.) But sometimes it goes full speed for so long and is doing the most for so long that when more is needed, it stumbles, something halts everything breaks breaking the next thing, breaking the next thing, breaking the next, until it is all shattered and deadlocked. Either way, tomorrow, you'll be fundamentally different. once something overheats, you know will overheat again someday. You know letting it cool down is not enough. It will get hot if it runs at full for too long, just as before so you have to remove something. And with a deadlock, you can bring in a professional and people to help and we can replace parts but it will never be the same. Some of the parts are different colors from different models. And it's not as fast. And you'll never trust it again because it can break down on you and it has. Kurt called while I was writing this, just now .The words are in front of me on the page .The issue could have been discussed and communicated and thereby solved but I didn't tell him I was just cold and dry. I can feel his fingers typing now I can feel his thoughts turning with doubt. " Where was the warmth, the nurturing, the gentle love? What have I done? What is different then before?"" I will have to remind him that I'm sick. And he said he could handle it and for the thousands of time, my mental illness is not a reflection of him. He will choose a reason one of the 1000 bouncing in his head that he believes motivates my behavior, and he'll move it to his mouth and he'll let it incubate there. And other fears will salivate around it and he will ingest those and he will form a truth with all of that and present it to me ...and I'll have to defend it, thereby validating him.. and I will be angry with HIM for being typical and at HIM for being accusatory. Even though this is exactly as it's supposed to though and I could have avoided it by asking him.

I SAY "ASK FOR HELP"

YOU SAY "ATTENTION SEEKING"

ARE THEY NOT THE SAME? - KK HAIKU

I wanna be well. I think another contributing factor is my lack of will is that I've had a step-by-step plan and a 1000 obstacles between me and the life. I wanted people, money, custody, leases, property, opinion, etc. I figured out one of them. Would just get in the way, but I'm learning to pivot so they did not and that makes me so happy and so proud of myself for getting so far so excited and deserving my new life. Perhaps starting to realize, if something goes wrong, it will be my fault. I'm a thing standing between me and my everything I've dreamed of and I'm afraid I'm going to drop it ...and then it will break the engine for good."

returning to edit. I found the entire writing in my journal as well. I hand wrote it and put it in my phone. it gets more puzzling.

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kismetkween · 8 months ago

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April Showers...

I truly pray April is sweet to us all.

Today is April 3rd and all is calm. It is the perfect word to summarize the day thus far. I woke up and went to the tobacco store. I took my dog. She was excited but scared. She is like me in that way.

I got ready on my own time, no clock, very natural and ritualistic. I drank water, and I fasted until noon. Started work. Spoke to Kurt.

One thing about him I adore, he does not call me or text me the second he wakes up. He does not search his tablet right away. I am in my phone before my eyes fully open.

When I used to talk to him, I always felt a little sad, as if he was not interested. He tells me about his entire morning, always the same. I love how he spends time with himself. It is the way I want to spend time with myself. I am crazy for being sad that he is more focused on himself than me. I am crazy but I am learning. I need to embrace the time I am not speaking to him and use it to care for myself as well. He showers in the evenings before dinner, he reads the bible when he wakes up, he walks, he drinks water, he folds his clothes. He calls me.

I don’t understand where in my life I felt the need to be the most. I honestly don’t want to be. I have never truly had an interest to be someone’s obsession but if I am not, I will tear myself apart. This is one of the things I hate most about myself.

With my love for him. the thought of him taking time to himself and enjoying his morning and taking care of my man literally makes me warm and brings me joy. I am honored to be a part of his routine, an element to his peace. I need not be a stressor for him, only a source of joy. I passively told him I like his ways and how I always want a slow gentle kind of life.

He is making this happen for me too even at a distance. Even while we are forced apart. His routine and discipline counter and enforce mine. Like the moon tugs the tide. He sets a boundary and his subtle but stern command and bends my life around his. He wants me to read. I start to write more. He needs to go to bed early, I have more successful mornings, he doesn’t want to sit on the phone all day and chip away at money, I get more done.

Even with the bigger things. He knows I have no self-control but it’s okay because he has this way of pacifying all the noise. Neither I nor the voices will get what we want because he knows what’s best. No big purchases, no more big changes. No more cosmetic procedures. Not until we're together.

I often feel like that bad, unloved, child who seems like a lost cause, who has met the calmest and wisest force. He puts his hands over my ears, and he closes his eyes, and it doesn’t hurt. I can tell he is able to break me like a wild horse and I think I going to let him.

We discussed the different types of busy we tend to be and how henceforth we should be the type of busy that aids our future selves more than our present selves. I told him if my environment was different, I would be kinder to myself. I explained how much I love my little rituals and how they keep me soft. That I will only become more sweet as the time goes on and I put the chaos behind me. Gentle is the best thing I have ever been, and I have to forgive the violence and chaos it took to make me so.

I want to have done more than I still have left to do, I want to take care of myself and those around me. I want to wander slowly, wash dishes and peel oranges. I want to nurture the tiny baby leaves, slowly help the child walk, bake them bread and cut off the ends. I want to gently scoot the chickens in and dry the rain off the dogs. I want to be more by doing more and not be more because I have more or want more.

Mostly because outside of love and being selfless, desire makes me weak, and I am tired of being weak. C.J Hauser once said “There is nothing more humiliating to me than my own desires”

I have always made it my mission to transform my desires into acts of love and as a result I feel most joy when delivering joy to others. Joy, pleasure but mostly relief or peace. I so much want peace and when I cannot find mine, I want so badly for someone else to have it. I love how close I am to loving myself and having a partner with which our love and peace will weave back and forth and create the fabric for a family or community. I simply want to stay in love, and I want to care for those who love me.

https://kismetkweenx.wordpress.com/about/

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kismetkween · 8 months ago

Text

Where to begin

I need to learn to balance and maintain the things I love and enjoy before I love something into the ground

This is strange for me. I chose this blog and name and site, all of it 2 years ago. 1 year and 10 months to be exact. When I thought I was well and ready and going to write and ...... I was in another fit of Mania. I remember reserving all matching domain names on all socials and creating a little design and putting it all on a creator cards. I ordered 1000 and had them in a box. I showed my friends the design at my birthday party and never really touched on it again. I have never had a birthday party so successful. I invited about 40 people thinking maybe one third would come but they all came.

You see, I had locked myself in my house for about 2.5 years. First with a family situation then the pandemic, then mental health issues and this was my coming out, my reintroduction to society. I was my fattest, at a few lbs shy of 400 and I needed something to show for what I had been doing with all that time locked away. (That was not eating and crying. ) Another issue being the first time seeing most of my friends since developing mild cognitive impairment and there was a pretty credible rumor going around that I had attempted suicide. This mostly came from the 3 months I disappeared at work and my sister being harassed with questions.

I am riddled with duality, and I want to believe I would not love my friends dearly if they were not sweet and genuinely cared about my wellbeing.... but a magical-friendship-me and realistic-practical-me vary on whether this swell in attendance was morbid curiosity or genuine compassion. Now I know it could be somewhere in the middle. Whereas they maybe simply missed me and were not compelled to feel strongly about it either way. But what is important to remember is that, I acknowledge they did not have to come, especially after 2 years of silence from me. I am very grateful for all the people in my life. I needed them.

I wanted to show them I was fine, and things were good, but somewhere along the line I thought I had to convince myself of these things first. The issue is though, it was not a facade. I genuinely thought this was my new life, and I was good and okay. I thought I was going to be better. In actuality, it would be another year and a half, the worst years and a complete gutting of life as I know it (and myself ... literally), before I was okay.

I was writing and that was what was helping, and I ran with it.

I do this a lot. I will find the one thing that is different, whatever is helping or making a small difference and I will obsess over it. I will try to perfect it and I will make so many rules for it. Over the past few years, I have determined I am not going to "fix myself" but I can try to breathe balance into more aspects of my life.

"I need to learn to balance and maintain the things I love and enjoy before I love something into the ground."

I did, I burnt out on writing and as much as it was helping me, it was causing me to face real, challenging, and traumatic issues on a regular basis on a recreational level. This was a very confusing time for me and when I read back it was madness.

I have always been full of art and constantly attribute it to saving my life, but I have never been one to create anything. I really didn't know where to start and I still don't.

At this time, I was manic and alive, and for the 1st time in a long time, I didn't want to die.

Next post I will post a run down a timeline of physical and mental contributions to my wellbeing and my decent into madness. (link coming)

I am also attaching a writing from my journal in 2022 addressing a strong realization that art was why I was here.

https://kismetkweenx.wordpress.com/about

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