#I've had my meds today i just haven't thought of anything specific this time

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Also if you couldn't guess, since I postponed Sewerhell Sunday yesterday, it's now Sewerhell Sonday today. Feel free to ask about any Plex history or Sewerhell things cause today's their day again! This includes the horsies!

And yeah I know people wanted me to post my favourite Chica design I made but apparently the second half isn't done and I have actual stuff to do today so it's unlikely to get done today. Next time maybe. Sorry to keep saying I'm posting her and then not posting her I swear I thought it was done and postable today once I'd written the image IDs but nope. The second page isn't done apparently! I can't post Chica without her beloved cupcake that would be wrong! And I've had some new ideas to doodle out anyway so I can add those to it when I next have the chance.

She'll be here eventually I promise but in the meantime it's Sewerhell Sonday what do we wanna talk about today?

[grison-in-space]

Okay, so: I've mentioned that I have service oriented tasks in mind for Matilda, but I haven't actually talked a bunch about what I'm aiming for. In part this is because one of the biggest things I would find supportive doesn't seem to be a Thing at the moment.

Generally speaking, I need an executive function support dog. I think I can make this happen without overtaxing my dog, but I'm getting stuck thinking about what I want to teach and how to chain it, so I'm going to think out loud for a minute.

So: autism, ADHD, constant masking, and an objectively stressful ten years in Texas (fire! flood! school stabbing! literal abandonment! we have them all!) has left me with some burnout problems. I dissociate a lot and I need to figure out how to train that as an alert, but especially in the evenings I tend to get stuck. Most of my coping techniques relied on either stores of energy I largely just don't have or on anxiety over consequences to serve as a motivator. While I can still do my job pretty well (thanks, hyperfocus!), I miss a lot of care opportunities (things like: consume lunch. Drink liquids. Take afternoon meds). And I can tune out anything at this point.

I have found that there's a distinct sensory component to this, though: visual and especially tactile stimuli work way better than auditory ones. It's just that there isn't really anything that can do a mix like that right now. I've rigged some things to help but it's not ideal, and I've passively/accidentally trained every previous dog I've had to sit outside flailing distance and subvocalize until I get up anyway; surely it should be possible to teach a dog to help with this. Say, by progressing from a touch or lick to a nose punch to crawling into my lap to lick my face on a timed cue.

By the way, friends, you lose shit in burnout. Learn from my mistakes; try to mask less, fuck. I have a lot of grief I'm still processing over things I did ten or fifteen years ago that I can't do today; my capacity is just so much lower than it used to be. I am on an upswing--the move helped a lot, just getting away from Texas, and the new job environment has been helpful, and so have some med adjustments... but I'm not as fast or as hard driving as I used to be, and there are some things I won't get back.

Anyway. Plans. Public access groundwork is actually not worrying me too badly at this stage: we're working on dog reactivity, foundations, and settling, and she sees enough weird places I'm not too concerned about now. But it's the tasking pieces I'm hung up on. I have thoughts, at least, for the dissociation alerts and grounding part of the problem: I know how I hold myself and how I don't move in certain ways when I'm dissociated, and "touch" shaped into licking my hand or nudging me is something I can use for that.

But what would be really helpful is setting alerts for Tilly to go into Pester Mode on a timer. I think I can use a phone timer for this, probably, although I would really like it if I could make Gcal notifications work as a cue to set timers to. I can use "human stands up" as my stop cue for the behavior, and the start cue is of course the timer itself. Once summoned by the timer, I know what I would like her to do.

I'm just sort of stuck on how to go about starting this. I do not want to invoke Pester Mode without the timer, and I would ideally like Pester Mode to be reliably turned off if I stand up. I do not want to trigger Pester Mode for anyone but me. I can think of like half a dozen ways this task could go hideously wrong.

It's just that it would be so helpful if I could program a bunch of very specific reminders based on my Gcal schedule and then have a stubborn little dog break any hyperfocus and help me transition into a new behavior at those periods. Unfortunately, now that Matilda is old enough to begin thinking about beginning to shape the beginnings of this, I find myself stuck. What would you do, dogblr?

[tallymarksystem]

We're currently enrolled in an intensive outpatient program, meaning we've got group therapy 5 days a week, 3 hours a day, for estimated 8 weeks. This is a good thing. However... we started two days ago and we are already facing some challenges.

About two hours after group yesterday, I (Tal) could already not remember most of the three hours. I've identified two reasons for this happening yesterday.

The first is just that I was not the one fronting. Pastel is logged as fronting during that time. Generally, that makes sense as a reason I wouldn't remember something. The difference in this case, and why it's confusing, is that Pastel and I have pretty good communication and memory sharing these days. I haven't had anything close to blackout amnesia with them for a while.

The second reason, which I learned only after discussing my confusion with my partners, is that Sparrow fronted for a bit near the end of the three hours because one of the men in the group caused us to feel unsafe. This does make sense as a reason why I wouldn't remember specifically the end of the group, because unlike Pastel, Sparrow and I do not have incredible memory sharing or communication.

I understand not remembering the end of group. I would even understand my memory of the rest of the time being blurry or patchy. Completely gone though? That is what both confuses and concerns me. These therapy sessions can't do much good if the memory of the sessions continues being locked away. For the record, I don't think Pastel intended to not share the memories. I don't think they even know how to do that intentionally, and neither do I.

Luckily, Pastel, being awesome and having dealt with this issue as the host all through high school, is in the habit of taking very thorough notes. I may not remember the group, but I have the notes so I at least know what kinds of topics were addressed and what Pastel's thoughts on them and takeaways were.

In general I don't like to complain about something without at least trying to find a solution or a way to work around it, so the plan of action for today is taking our anxiety meds before the group. This will make it less likely that Pastel will front for the duration of the 3 hours, so if this really is an issue of the communication between me and Pastel, that will open the possibility for someone to front who I do have good communication with, or even for me to front. Regardless, we'll continue taking notes.

[elizabethplaid]

a fair number of notes - june 19th, 2024

-- Good counseling session today. Relayed some of the theories and conversations I've had with my dad and phone-friend. She noted that I expressed a lot less guilt than I used to, in previous years, regarding these "down swings".

-- Dad picked up Rx meds and a Dunkin drink for me. Came home right before counseling started, so I took comfort in my frozen drink.

-- Dad also installed the AC window unit in my bedroom. It was 93F today, so it's been very handy. The hottest it's been otherwise lately were a couple days of 84F.

-- After a post-counseling nap, we went to the grocery store. First time driving the "new" car, aside from just backing up in the driveway. It feels good, spacious; thin seat belt is unnerving.

-- --- Snagged some of my sparkling water and novelty sodas. Our main goal was our usual 2L sodas and a cucumber for pasta salad tonight. Ugh, just realized I forgot to get ice cream.

-- --- Dad messed with the AC controls, within 2 miles of driving home. I didn't say anything to stop him, because I thought we'd be home really quick. Nah, fuckin' distracting. Had to move the vents off me really really quick. I can't remember our exact words, but he apologized for being distracting. I said something to the effect of, "When I'm feeling this bad, pushing myself like this, everything is a distraction."

-- --- Really, I thought I felt okay until the air flow changed. When it did, I realized how thin a grip I had on things. But I had been confident and handled a lot of stimuli very well. And I'm still in good spirits!

-- For this excursion, I felt happy enough to throw on my jewelry, jeans, and one of my new bras. It fits well for the band, but the cups are small and squish me flat. Not bad for a lounging bra, especially for $10. It's comfy enough.

-- --- It's been almost 2 weeks, but I haven't cut off the tags from my new clothe yet. Need to do that and throw them in a load of cold laundry. Need to do laundry in general.

-- --- My goal is to do a bunch of little cleaning chores, bit by bit. Just clean the sink in one visit; clean something else in the next, etc. I'm tempted to make a list, to better organize my thoughts. But I'm already nibbling at things, so... I don't really -need- to make a list.

=========

-- Phone friend is fighting really bad allergies. They work outdoors, and the pollen provoked a really strong migraine. We've already discussed cautions of heat versus meds, staying hydrated, trying to stave off migraines. They've switched to new eye drops, and it seems to be helping.

-- --- Feeling sick and fatigued, we had to cut our last call short, and they skipped some of the morning/evening greetings. They worried about seeming too distant lately, and I'm like...

Really, I've been caught up in my own head, with all my sensory overload stuff. I'm chilling with my own vibes, feeling fine by myself. Never even occurred to me that things could be interpreted as us being a bit distant.

My reaction also reminded me of the apple juice story from Hannibal Buress. "... so caught up in the euphoria...," forgetting the practical reasoning.

I replied, explaining that we're good. I understand when life (and fatigue!) get in the way. I mean, I wanted to cancel this week's call, because my brain isn't good with speaking out loud. (I could hear myself talking in circles, repeating myself last week, because I space-out mid-sentence.)

=====

Anyway, thanks for sticking around reading all these notes. And if you didn't, if you just clicked "like" because you like me, that's fine too.

I started writing these notes for a few specific people, back when I was really depressed and withdrawn. Now, I write them to help me remember what I've been up to lately. As always, I really appreciate your support, friends.

[chubbymonstah]

Well, it's Juneteenth and I'm having a high pain day. If anyone wants to help out a non-binary disabled black person with a relatively fresh baby(they're almost 6 months old!) feel free to follow the link to my vmo. Below the cut is a vent post so please don't worry about reading the rest of this.

I'm kinda struggling with feeling like my partner(not my NP but the father of my kid) doesn't really care about my needs or the things that are important to me, like today, which is kind of a big deal for me/my people. I asked him and his other partner for help with our child today and was told no, and he hasn't even mentioned Juneteenth. He ruined my mother's day and promised to make it better but hasn't. And I'm anxious about bringing it up because every time I try to voice an issue it becomes this huge, stressful event. I just feel neglected a lot of the time. He doesn't really make me feel special. He rarely makes me feel loved. I kinda feel like an afterthought at best, and an inconvenience or nuisance most of the time. If I don't ask specifically for it, he never thinks to bring me a treat when he goes out. Like, no he's not obligated to bring me anything, but you'd think if he thought about me ever, he'd do it because he knows it makes me happy(Which is funny because his ex wife goes out of her way to bring me little treats, just because she knows how happy it makes me)? Even just like, a little candy bar or something? Or he'd find a way to help when I'm in pain? But I feel like I'm just a bother. He gets to be fun dad when he shows up, and I do the rest of the parenting except for the two days kiddo's at his place with his other partner. Though I guess I should be happy, since the last time I asked for help, he did come, but scolded me for asking in the first place and it blew up into this horrible thing that I have occasional nightmares about. So now I try to tread carefully because I don't want to go through that again and potentially lose my baby their father. But it still hurts. Not as much as my arms/chest/back/shoulders do rn(you know, the bits needed to hold a baby), but it does make me sad. Like, he went into this with me willingly. He knew that I'm disabled, he knew that I'd need help and up until I got pregnant I had been reassured that that help would be there when requested. I guess I don't feel appreciated? He says that he's working hard and needs the time away to be able to support us financially, but other than some food and a $200 visa gift card, I haven't seen much of that support yet(though he did pay for the plane tickets and come with me to my uncle's funeral, so there is that)

Anyways, I'm just feeling some type of way, and since I can't talk about it with him without expending so, so much emotional labor that I don't have the energy for, I'm just venting here.

But! Huge shout-out to @corpsegods for being an absolutely amazing partner. He came to the rescue today and watched Babycakes for/with me so I could get a bit of a break. He brought me food and painkillers, and rubbed salve into my back and shoulders. He took baby when I was starting to get overwhelmed and got them to stop crying. Even though they're not genetically his kid. Even though he's disabled too, and has sensory issues up the wazoo, even though he's getting over a bad kidney stone. Even though he's never really interacted with children before mine happened. He came when I called, and is doing everything in his power to help me right now, and has for years now. He always gives me a blanket that smells like him so that he can even protect me in my nightmares. He always, ALWAYS kisses me goodnight and tells me he loves me. Every. Single. Day. He makes me feel as special as my child's biodad doesn't. He seeks me out. He actively wants to be close to me. He asks me how I'm doing regularly, helps me remember to eat and take my meds, he's just so consistently //there// for me. He's the best partner I've ever had. I never feel like a burden with him. Yes we both struggle with various aspects of life, but we're absolutely dedicated to being there for one another regardless. I love him so much. If I had gone into this whole thing without him, I don't even know where I would be right now. Sometimes I feel like I should have written his last name down instead of my other partner's on the birth paperwork.

[pedropascalunofficial]

Pedro Pascal and Lena Headey

Head to head interview

Hunger Magazine, Issue 6. Released December 28, 2014. Photoshoot October 15, 2013.

Thirteen million. That's the number of people, on average, who tuned into each episode of the third season of Game of Thrones. Among them was Chilean actor Pedro Pascal, who was as enthralled by the sex and slaughter as the rest of us. But little did he know that within a few months he'd be pitching up on the shores of Belfast to join the cast as Oberyn Martell, affectionately known as the Red Viper. Sound ominous? It is. The Red Viper is GoTs newest anti-hero, “sexy and charming but driven by hate”. Sounds like he'll be right at home.

Pedro, on the other hand, though he looks good on paper, wasn't the obvious choice for the role. Expecting a big name to ride into King’s Landing, the show's fans took to forums to express their concerns as soon as the news broke. So is he worried? Like hell he is. “The fans had the part cast in their minds already. They knew who they wanted and it certainly was not me. But I'm not stupid, | presumed that people were going to say ‘who the fuck is this guy’. Since I anticipated the reaction it didn't throw me off.”

“There are so many different ways to go into battle with yourself when you're trying to get a job. I felt a certain amount of pressure because I wanted to make everyone happy. The fan base is so specific and, as a fan myself, I understand the relationship that they have with the show. The Red Viper is the best part I've ever played, and in season four shocks come at the most unexpected times. You might think you know, but you have no idea,” he explains.

Looks like the Red Viper could be in line to fill a Walter-White-sized-hole in television, but to test the theory we pit Pascal against Lena Headey, aka the Queen. Because if you can come away from Cersei unscathed, you can handle anything.

LH: So, Pedro, you come into Game of Thrones in season four, playing a pretty major character. Does that fill you with joy or dread?

PP: I'd say it fills me with joy because it’s a really fucking fun part. He’s a badass. He comes up against a lot of the main characters in the show. I'm very aware of the show. I watch it like a fan.

LH: Were you a fan before you arrived in Belfast?

PP: Yeah, I was a proper fan. I was caught up in the drama of it before I even auditioned for the part. I was already up to speed.

LH: I remember meeting you and thinking, “he fucking loves the show’.

PP: I kissed your ass.

LH: Well, it worked. We're friends now.

PP: I was like a tourist visiting the set, and yet I had to act with you and be in a scene with the characters that I had such a specific association with already.

LH: So you’re saying it’s boring?

PP: No, it wasn’t boring at all. It was extremely, relentlessly surreal.

LH: And who were your favourite characters up until that point?

PP: Not you.

LH: I realise that!

PP: There are too many characters to have a favourite, but I was fascinated by the Lannisters because they're so frightening. They scared me and then you would come in and pull sympathy from your audience somehow, and I found that rather fascinating. The Northerners were so easy to like or get behind, but it was quite something to see people sympathise with a Lannister, after you made people see things from their perspective.

LH: Speaking of being slightly ambiguous as a character, you come in as a major player and a very well-loved character in the eyes of people who read the books, and he’s somewhat of an anti-hero. Did you base him on anyone?

PP: What does an anti-hero mean exactly?

LH: It means he doesn't wear deodorant, doesn't it? [Laughs]. Someone you shouldn't champion, but you do, like Walter White in Breaking Bad.

PP: No, | didn’t really base him on anyone.

LH: Did you take anything from classic movies that you thought you could use and spin to your advantage playing the Red Viper?

PP: God, that’s a good question. I probably did subconsciously. Now I feel under the spotlight because I need to think of somebody, and I have so many in my mind! I think that’s something that is happening a lot in TV today: the anti-heroes are central to these television shows, and people are really getting behind them, even though they're not necessarily the most moral characters. So I'd say that ‘ve become more familiar with the character who's obviously very flawed but gets you on their side — you have complicated feelings about them. But I think I saw the story too much from this character's perspective to perceive any flaws.

LH: He has some.

PP: I know, from the outside. But I don't see any of them. What are his flaws?

LH: His flaws? He's a dirty bastard!

PP: Why is he a dirty bastard? He likes to fucking fight, for sure.

LH: Back to you as an actor. You've done it for a long time and, as we all know, the path is not always golden, and sometimes you think, “fuck it” and you want to leave it and do something else. Have there been moments where you wanted to give up?

PP: Yes, there have been moments where I came very close to giving up. But I never had anything to fall back on. I think you can understand that.

LH: Because were stupid?

PP: We're stupid.

LH: I can't even make pizza!

PP: We don’t have any other skills.

LH: None at all!

PP: And that’s the odd conundrum. You get to a point where you think, “This isn’t going to happen. This isn’t sustainable. I'm too exhausted, and it can't be good for me.” There were moments where I truly did try to formulate an idea of what I'd do. I thought I'd go back to school, start pre-med again and go to medical school or something like that.

LH: But that didn't happen, you just thought about it?

PP: Yes, I'd have thoughts, but it was still fantasy really. But at the time it felt like a practical life plan. Do you know what I mean?

LH: Yeah of course, you need to pay the fucking rent.

PP: Exactly. You just try to escape from the chaos of what you're feeling by trying to create order in your life. Order seems like a solution to save you from the pain of acting!

LH: It's a mental pain. Who was the first person you called when you got the role?

PP: My sister.

LH: Does she watch the show?

PP: Yes, she does.

LH: Pedro Pascal... or Pablo as I called you when I had too much wine, which was deeply insulting.

PP: Even family members have done that to me! Do I look more like a Pablo? Because it happens with about ninety-five percent of the people I meet.

LH: No, I think I’m just an ignorant drunk person.

PP: No, you were an ignorant drunk person that night is what you're saying.

LH: And now I’m educated.

PP: [Whispers] But | want you to call me Pablo.

LH: Ok, Pablo! When you first arrived on set in Northern Ireland, what was your feeling showing up to a bunch of British actors? Did it feel different to doing an American project?

PP: Yes, but I loved it. It wasn’t intimidating. I found it surreal because I’d watched and loved the show. I hadn't had the opportunity to work on something that I was really familiar with before, so it was overwhelming. But it was far more delightful than intimidating. Also you guys were really cool. Everyone was friendly.

LH: Oh, that’s just fake.

PP: Well, you guys were good at it!

LH: We know Game of Thrones is very popular obviously. Do you have any thoughts, or fears, about what this is going to bring you in terms of exposure?

PP: I have hope.

LH: Oh, God. I don’t mean to shatter that, but give it up.

PP: I don’t know really. It’s all been filmed, and now I'm back to my normal routine, so I haven't really thought about it. I remember when we finished filming and we were on our way to the airport, you asked me, “How does it feel you're all done?” and I couldn't really answer.

LH: You were quite emotional that day.

PP: I was very emotional because I’d had such an amazing time doing the part. Also just being there immersed in the experience... You described it to me best. You told me how I'd be feeling.

LH: We don't know your character's backstory when you enter the show, and you have some rather brutal scenes. Anyone who has read the books will know what I’m talking about.

PP: My character comes in, he stirs a bunch of shit up, and then he makes this fucking enormous exit. Now can | ask you a question?

LH: What is it? I’m not going to sleep with you. Give it up.

PP: Oh, come on! This has gone to shit and it’s your fault, so good luck to whoever has to edit it! But anyway, sometimes I'd hang out with the cast members and we'd go to dinner and they would get stopped constantly. There was no denying who they played because they were so recognisable, but you got away with it because you have this beautiful blonde wig on in the show, and in real life you are...

LH: Grey?

PP: {Laughs] No! You have beautiful chestnut hair! Is it liberating to not be recognised the way some of the other cast members are?

LH: Yes, it is liberating.

PP: Liberating being able to walk down an alley in Dubrovnik without being stopped?

LH: Yes, except sometimes | get recognised in the weirdest places. A woman was emptying my bag at Heathrow Airport's security gates and just went, “Are you the Queen?” while rummaging through my underwear. It was so fucking weird.

PP: It seems they're more respectful to you?

LH: Because they're frightened. Wait until they meet the Viper.

PP: Well, that covers it.

LH: I think we're going to get our own show out of this, you know

Interested in learning more about Pedro? Check out Pedro Pascal Unofficial on Pinterest!

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 7 "Beware of Young Girls" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

If we're ever gonna find out what happened to that baby, we have to figure out who that woman was.

That got way out of hand.

I think I figured out what my problem is. I'm way too nice.

This is what happens to sneaky backstabbers.

Just so you know, I took all your clothes.

It's too bad you had to die before we found out what ethnicity you are.

God, I loved porking you so much.

Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today because a backstabbing little bitch got exactly what was coming to her.

I have a colonic!

You were a stupid, little trollop, and I hope you're burning in hell right now.

There's nothing left to talk about.

Do you find it so shocking?

And you tried to frame me for murder!

I promise to never betray your trust again.

You most certainly won't betray my trust ever again, because you will never have my trust ever again!

It has two dancing demons, a dead old lady and cute little pentagrams.

I am going to prove that bitch wrong!

I told you to get rid of him!

I do not want to hear about how this is hard for you, okay?

Now, will you please go kill some people?

Okay, I'm not totally sure you understand how fashion works.

In, like, five years, my clothes are gonna be super hip again.

I like the borderline-creepy way he looks out for you.

He's kind of the perfect guy.

Well, thanks for being cool with me.

I haven't been inside here in a while.

He was in his mid-50s, so he could only get it up, like, once or twice a week.

Tell us something you learned this week about what it means to be a woman.

Everywhere I'd go, she'd just be there, dressed exactly like me.

Hey, did you spill ketchup in the shape of an arrow on the floor?

Are you having sex with a goat?

You looked me in the eye and promised me you would try to be monogamous!

I am breaking up with you.

You are gonna close that door, and you're gonna hear me out.

My whole life, I've lived with a secret shame. And that secret shame is that-- I'm lactose intolerant.

Lactose intolerance afflicts around 50% of the human population, who spend their entire lives walking past Baskin Robbins knowing that if they even have a little bit of ice cream, they're gonna fart a bunch. And if you weren't so ignorant, and you cracked a book every once in a while, you would know that goat's milk, it's lactose free.

I'm so sorry I doubted you.

Look, if it makes you feel any better we can totally bang if you want.

I mean, I knew I had had one hurricane too many, but let's be honest, one hurricane is one hurricane too many.

When my mouth has been where it's been on your body, I think we can safely say we are more than kind of friends.

Look, this is super awkward, but someone killed and dismembered your ex-husband last night, and they put his head in a fish tank.

Seriously, you're under arrest.

They don't care. They're nuts.

I was just doing a little sketching.

Designing formal wear is an old hobby of mine.

Look what I've been able to accomplish with a little free time.

No booze, obviously, but the meds are divine. The little blue ones make you feel like your organs are floating in a warm bath.

I don't trust a girl with a huge bush of pubic hair. Makes me think she has something to hide.

I specifically told you I cannot eat deli meats. The sulfites in them send me into anaphylactic shock. No salami and certainly no bologna!

I want you to know that I think you killed them all, and I hope you get the electric chair for it.

I've frickin' had it with you!

Technically, she just said that he was cheating, but she never said anything about a goat.

Don't interrupt me when I'm talking to a dead girl!

Why do you have nine tampons? How big is your cooch?

I really think we should stop, because this is really, really freaking me out.

No, hooker! We're not stopping.

Have fun in hell going to dinner with Osama bin Laden.

But, I mean, can we really trust a satanic talking board?

Talking boards tend not to hold up in court.

I say we poison her bras.

We have to be super sneaky about it, because if we're not, she'll smell a rat and kill us first.

What the hell is a sugar party?

We were just talking about throwing a sugar party.

I thought you were dead.

I am dead. I'm burning in hell.

I came back from the grave to apologize to you.

Yes, there are waterslides, but they're lined with razor blades and you splash down into a pool of boiling pee.

As soon as I got there, I was like, "Where are the dinosaurs?"

I guess I was just intimidated by your beauty and intelligence.

I was just jealous. I wanted what you had, and I really needed my tube packed.

I accept your apology. And I'm sorry you got murdered and are dead.

Well, looks like I'll have to kill them first.

Be the bigger person!

Now rise up and be the leader I know you can be.

Yeah, I just, I just get a little faint when I see blood.

A perfect DNA match. That is what the lab said.

It's pretty suspicious behavior.

Oh, Mommy's home.

She's what a psychiatrist friend of mine refers to as a "capicolaphilist" which is not, as I thought, someone who's turned on by the sight and feel of lunch meats but, more disgustingly, someone who's turned on by someone who pronounces bologna the way it's spelled;"bow-log-na."

You're plotting to murder me.

What I'm curious about is what, exactly, is taking so long?

Rat poison only works because rodents don't have a gag reflex. If you gave a human rat poison, they would immediately puke it all up. So not only would I have survived your attempt on my life, it would have also made me skinnier.

It was stupid to try to murder you.

I'm willing to let bygones be bygones and chalk this attempted murder up to youthful enthusiasm.

Here's to young girls getting what they had coming to them.

You know what they say-- "nothing tastes as good as revenge feels." Actually, they don't say it. I just sort of made that up.

I've got to stay focused.

Are you hungry, 'cause I'm hungry.

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.