#don't re/bl0g please

[clever-and-unique-name]

I'm so very tired. The past couple days have been a struggle of trying to get the "new old part" acclimated to our present and it's difficult. She's not taking things well.

She judges everything we do (and have done) based on the Christian values we were taught growing up. When she discovers evidence of "how far we've fallen," she is despondent and communicates that through very graphic images of torturing herself "because it's what she deserves." Along with urges to actually harm our body.

It's exhausting and it has us on edge. Things will seem okay for a while and then something sets her off and we're lost in bloody imagery that nothing seems to distract from. The most relief we get is from following the lead of her images and taking time to show us bandaging her wounds and caring for her.

It makes me feel more than a little insane. I know that's not a term I'm supposed to use, but I don't know what else to call it. I feel mentally unwell in a very unstable way.

(please don't re/bl0g)

[moqlnkkn]

reminder to please unfollow me if you’re an a.ro/a-ce ex;clu-sion’ist

[clever-and-unique-name]

Wow, okay. Don’t try to appease mystery kiddo with plants (or ice cream.) Duly noted. She’s definitely not Moss, and apparently hates plants with a passion. Talk about adding fuel to the fire....

I have no memory of having a full on “childlike” meltdown like that in recent history. I’m just...baffled. Much more grounded now (and comfortably adult), but baffled.

- a blurry person

[clever-and-unique-name]

Iterations on a theme.

2019 / 2020 / 2020 / 2021 art progression

[clever-and-unique-name]

Saw a super cute [picrew] on twitter. It’s one of the more diversity-friendly ones I’ve seen and I think the artstyle is really nice.

Raz | Tristan | Abel Jasper | Diego | Jynx

(Please don’t re/bl0g)

[clever-and-unique-name]

Somebody wrote out a big long journal thing all about hopelessness and stuff. Like how no matter what's going on in our life the feeling of hopelessness never goes away and they don't think it'll ever go away.

I don't know if I feel like that. Maybe a little. I don't know. I do think it's unfair to other people that I'm always "going through a hard time" or "dealing with stuff."

I want to ask for permission to exist. Just to be here. I want to ask for someone to tell me it's okay, that I'm okay like this.

But then the grumbling starts. "I don't need permission from anyone. Fuck other people. I'll exist if I want."

Be gentle with me but don't coddle me. Say nice things but don't patronize. It's confusing. I'm confusing.

I think I am a very difficult person to deal with. I think it's best if I just keep to myself.

- K

[clever-and-unique-name]

I’m having a real time of it today, lads. I vaguely know something triggering happened earlier (though for the life of me I have no idea what) and now there’s a very disgruntled child in my head absolutely screaming about hating people. Just “people” in general. Every time I attempt to talk her down or suggest interacting with “safe” people (aka friends or our husband) she becomes inconsolable. I have such a headache from how upset she is over something I don’t remember.

So you know, we’re just going to chill on our own for a bit. Play some videogames or something. I’m telling her that it’s okay for us to be unreachable for the day if that’s what feels safe to her, and I guess I’m just writing about it here to let people know that if you’re waiting on a response from me......it’s been a time. I’m just dealing with some stuff.

[clever-and-unique-name]

Moss’ board

(please don’t re/bl0g!)

[clever-and-unique-name]

I had a couple errands to do earlier, which is usually kind of a drag. But today Mal’s been co-con which is really ideal for a couple different reasons. He doesn’t take executive control very often and finds fronting solo pretty uncomfortable, but when he’s co-con it’s like having a constant source of comfort right there with me.

(I’m swallowing my embarrassment about this because it’s something I feel like talking about, but it is going under a read more because it’s a little too personal.)

One of the most notable things he does are what I call “little touches,” which are pretty much exactly what they sound like. When he’s around, I notice things like my thumb rubbing soothing circles into the opposite hand, or rhythmically combing fingers through my hair, or stroking along my jaw. These are all things I don’t typically do (most often my hands are either fidgeting anxiously or jammed into my pockets) so it’s really odd to suddenly be aware of all these little touches that definitely don’t feel like they’re coming from “me.”

On top of that, his reaction to things is just so...easygoing? When he’s around, it feels really, really difficult for anything to get me anxious. He’s full of little reassuring remarks and soft laughter, it’s almost entrancing in a way. I guess it makes me feel comfortably dissociated, like everything is a little fuzzy around the edges and it’s okay. Together we interact with the world almost as if playing a game with no stakes, and each time we successfully beat an obstacle, he’s right there with praise.

The inevitable problem, unfortunately, is that an irritable, critical voice ramps up over time. It’s all “playing pretend” and “playing with an imaginary friend” and eventually I get too self-conscious and feel too ashamed, and his presence fades, and I feel cold and a little lost in its absence. I start to think that I should learn to deal without an “imaginary friend” building me up, about how I’m an adult and still rely on some kind of dissociative smoke and mirrors to get through tasks that should be simple. 

I don’t know how to end this rambling mess, but here it is.

[clever-and-unique-name]

I know I shouldn’t find this amusing because it’s actually kind of sad, but whenever we have a Big Emotional Conversation with husband where we have to explain How We Feel Bad, it’s like guaranteed that we’ll start “blankly crying”--and by that I mean, tears will be steadily falling, but completely unacknowledged by us, like at most we’ll wipe them away but sometimes not even that. It’s like if we can ignore them, it’ll stop. (Spoiler: it doesn’t make them stop.)

The sad part is that it isn’t like “normal” big emotion crying--it’s from fear. When we talk about how things make us feel Bad, the fear of talking about it at all is so overwhelming, and if we’re not grounded enough to work through that, we end up being silenced from it (which is what happened yesterday.) It’s a “known fact” that talking about how we feel is dangerous, so dangerous it feels life-threatening, so in that moment it’s just panic. It’s a young part sobbing “You have to stop talking, I am so scared! You have to stop!!!”

It’s still really hard to talk about vulnerable things. It’s so hard. It’s even harder to talk about feelings that don’t feel “actionable”--I can’t shake the critical idea that “If you don’t have a plan or request to deal with this, you shouldn’t talk about it!” But that’s not how things work sometimes. Sometimes I just need to talk and be heard about things that hurt, and I don’t always have a plan to make it better--it’s the talking that makes it feel better. Being open, and heard, rather than feeling like I have to bottle it up and hide it away. Sometimes the other person listening is truly enough.

[clever-and-unique-name]

cw: childhood trauma implied, family, mother

I know watching those old home videos was really awful and made some of us really upset but I can't get over how soft our mom talked to us when we were really young. even when everyone around us was horrible and mean and terrorized us, she sounded so nice.

she just never protected us from any of it, and she could have. especially when it got really bad. but still....it hurts to know we broke her heart when we left home. that's what she said, anyway.

I guess maybe thinking about this is why I feel this ache in my chest...

- reki

(please don't re/bl0g)

[clever-and-unique-name]

From raging inferno to playful candlelight--flame, regardless.

(please don't re/bl0g!)

[clever-and-unique-name]

- why does it hurt so much? - It has to. Because it mattered. - when will it stop? - I don't know. Soon, I hope.

(please don't re/bl0g!)

I have no hope of actually transcribing the interaction itself, but Mal was "talking" (communicating, whatever) to Astrid about her intrinsic connection to Reki and her attachment trauma.

Astrid said something dismissive along the lines of "I get that she's sad, but that doesn't take precedence over how I feel."

To which Mal challenged (again, paraphrasing): "Do you know how she feels? Or have you crammed the vastness of her emotions into a tiny box and labeled it 'sad' so you don't have to look any closer, allowing you to focus on your own feelings?"

Astrid chewed on that for a bit and finally answered, "Maybe. But I can't feel what I need to feel if I'm also dealing with everything she has going on."

"What you need to feel," Mal echoed, smiling a bit. "So dutiful and protective of us. Could you cauterize our wounds with that fire of yours, I wonder? Provide a gentle warmth to those parts left out in the cold? After all, flame has more uses than burning bridges."

Astrid glowered. "Don't ask me to be something I'm not. I've never been as kind or tender as the rest of you."

"So you say..."

[clever-and-unique-name]

"Be bold, be brave! Let's do this~~!!"

(please don't re/bl0g!)

[clever-and-unique-name]

(please don't re/bl0g)

[clever-and-unique-name]

"It's a beautiful night. Care to take a walk?"

(please don't re/bl0g!)