#old lyme

[some1s-sista]

Home for the next 5 days. I’ve missed hills.

[josadaik]

[roofingconnecticut]

[screw-art]

[korunia]

Open Living Room New York An illustration of a medium-sized, contemporary open-concept living room with a concrete floor and bar, gray walls, a traditional fireplace, a concrete fireplace, and a media wall.

[designinspooo]

The Enthusiasms of Centerbrook. Found in Phoebe's Book Cellar, Old Lyme, 2023.

[irenespring]

Happy Ides of March to @lorata's Victors: you would have loved finding some old history book and then making Brutus' life hell all day every year.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[13eyond13]

Woke up at 3 am and looked at a mutual's blog that I'd been thinking about, saw that they hadn't posted since early 2022 and went "oh wow over a year," then looked at my alarm clock that said the date was 05.22 and was like "WAIT it's not 2023 it's 2022 omg so that's good they have only been missing for a couple months not a year, and whoops I just made a post a few hours ago that said something about the year 2023 how embarrassing, I better go edit it"... so I did. Then I had to go "wait but I just had a birthday and I know I'm older than I was in 2022..." then I literally had to Google "what year is it" and realized the 22 I saw on my clock was the day not the year, then I had to feel worried about the mutual and re-edit the post all over again lmao

[psalm40speakstome]

Me: has a conversation about hard things, it goes really well, you both try to be kind.

Me: feels physically ill and like I never want to talk or think again

[lemonofthevalley]

yk what it really is batshit crazy that I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease when I was two and didn't know about it at ALL until I was 15. what the fuck mom!

[josadaik]

Florence Griswold Museum

[jello-fello]

Has anyone else literally never heard of Babesiosis before??

[reallivewire]

[xxmolls]

This is probably one of my favorite songs, out of all the songs I have written. (Putting this behind a read more because it's kinda dark, y'all. Don't read if you're not doing well mental health wise. TW: self-harm, depression, chronic illness)

I had just turned 24 when I wrote it (in 2014). I had been sick with a mysterious illness since I was 19, and when I was 21 I had finally gotten a partial answer to my ongoing medical mystery when I was diagnosed with late stage Neurological Lyme disease.

Growing up, I had always been a happy kid. I was always super bubbly and goofy. I tried my best to exude joy and kindness, despite whatever dark shit-storm was going on in my head.

That all changed when I got sick.

Lyme disease has the distinction of being a spirochete bacteria. That means that it can cross the blood-brain barrier, and that it can mimic mental illness.

My whole personality seemed to change along with the appearance of bizarre neurological symptoms. I was apathetic, I was hypomanic. I was incredibly depressed and suicidal, and on top of all that I was angry.

My early years of being sick have a red tint to them in my mind. I was so incredibly angry.

First, I was angry that no one would believe me that I was sick; that there was something seriously wrong with me and that I could feel myself rotting away on the inside.

Then, I was angry that I was sick. I was angry that I felt so isolated and alone, and that I didn’t feel like I could relate to the people I love anymore.

I was angry that I had had so many plans for my future. I was angry that I had been so hopeful, and so excited for my future. I was angry that I didn’t feel like I had a future anymore; that it had all been taken away from me.

I was angry that my friends’ lives moved on without me even though mine had completely stopped.

But underneath all of that prickly anger, I was unbearably sad.

When friends would come to visit me, I would notice that they would get upset. They always tried to hide it from me, but I could see it in their tense faces and in the shine of their eyes.

I was a mess. I was seizing uncontrollably. My tics were making me contort my body into weird, painful positions. If I started to feel pain from a tic, my asshole brain would make me move my body to feel even more pain until the tic felt satisfied – like pressing hard on a bruise.

I had vocal tics, which for most of my life had been controlled by meds. I was shouting and grunting. I was clearing my throat violently until I could taste blood.

I was always sweating profusely from moving around so much. My once vibrant curly hair was tangled into a nest of knots. It was frequently falling out in clumps.

Through it all, I tried to act cheery. I told my friends that I was okay, that I was happy.

I know it is incredibly disturbing to see someone you love so debilitated. And in my twisted, spirochete filled brain, I convinced myself that it hurt people to be around me. That I was hurting the ones I love by craving their company. That it was better for everyone if I was alone. That I was meant to be alone.

I started using my anger to push people away because I told myself I was protecting them.

I told myself I was a terrible person.

I got to the point where I was most angry at myself.

My Lyme treatment consisted of rounds of oral antibiotics. My doctor explained to me before I started treatment that with antibiotics, my symptoms were going to get worse before they got better. It’s something called “herx reactions.” From what I could understand (though honestly my brain was so scrambled at the time, nothing really made sense to me), as the Lyme bacteria die from the antibiotics, they release toxins that worsen your symptoms. However, my doctor assured me that it was a good sign if my symptoms worsened. That the worse a herx reaction, the more bacteria was being killed.

There were some antibiotics in my treatment that caused such severe herx reactions, I had to cut the dose into a literal crumb of a pill to start with because that was all my body could handle.

Usually, I was pretty good about increasing the dosage gradually.

However, when I was angry at myself, and in a depressive state, I often wanted to punish myself. I though I deserved to suffer because I was such a bad person.

I would often punish myself by secretly taking extra antibiotics, causing incredibly severe and painful herx reactions.

This song, “You Picked Me,” was written during that time.

I thought so poorly of myself, and that I had to protect the ones I love by distancing myself from them. I was afraid that sharing all of my dark feelings about myself would bring them down with me.

Thankfully, I was (and am) so fortunate to have people in my life who truly do love me. Who wanted me to open up to them, and share my burdens.

I used these twisted feelings of mine and my loved one’s unwillingness to let me keep myself isolated from them to inspire this song.

I used a lot of biblical imagery for some reason. I think that’s because I usually write my choruses first. In particular, I usually write the hook of the song first, which is often in the chorus. The lines

You want me to confess

Whisper my sins and decompress

But all these crosses that I bear

Should only show you that I care

came to me very early on in the songwriting. From there, I continued the biblical imagery as I was writing the verses.

When I figured out the whole Adam and Eve angle, the whole song finally came together.

The end of the song is pretty hopeful, and kind of portrays this acceptance that “you picked me.” My friends and family love me, no matter how poorly I think of myself or how much I try to push them away. They are not scared of my “darkness.” I shouldn’t be either.

I am doing much better now. I owe a huge part of that to my support system: the people in my life whom I love and who love me.

Another way I got my anger to fade was acceptance. I finally accepted that I was sick, and that I had a new normal. I accepted how my life did not turn out the way I had planned. I also accepted help, and was more willing to open up to people instead of hiding myself away. I’d like to think writing this song played a role in that process.

Overall, a big part of my healing was learning to be kinder to myself. I don’t think of myself as a “snake in a tree” anymore. I am not an angel either: I am human. I make mistakes. I am flawed. I do not always do the right thing.

I should not do everything on my own; I cannot do everything on my own.  And that’s okay.

Lyrics:

You Picked Me

Oh I'm hiding in a fire

We're both aware but our words make us both liars But oh my walls begin to melt

I take one last breath before the blood is spilt You want me to confess

Whisper my sins and decompress But all these crosses that I bear

Should only show you that I care

You're an angel...

Oh I think it's carved upon a stone

I love you but I'm meant to be alone

But oh the gates begin to fall

My secrets storm your kingdom after all

You want me to confess

Whisper my sins and decompress But all these crosses that I bear

Should only show you that I care

You're an angel... You say it's give and take

And all this dark in me I make

You want to share my sorrows

Take my pain, fill up my hollows

But what do you see in me?

You want me to confess

Whisper my sins and decompress

But all these crosses that I bear

Should only show you that I care You're an angel

I'm a snake in a tree

You're an angel

I'm a snake in a tree

You're an angel

Yet you decided to pick me

[mxbitters]

this really covers an unfortunately all too real truth about connecticut and the obscene levels of racism and classism that still very, VERY much impact those of us living here. fuck this state and its false progressivism that won't even let people go to a fucking beach