I got into an unexpected uncomfortable situation today, and was kind of scared about how to handle it, but I held to my boundaries and I feel proud of myself for that, even if I made mistakes earlier on.

Tonight could have gone much worse than it did, but I still feel a bit on edge. It doesn't really feel okay to me.

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

Before my class today, I ran into a girl I was friendly with at the retreat in the hall. We caught up a little, and then she said "Ooh, he's cute" and looked at a guy standing down the hall from us. I agreed with her and then we talked about him being cute for a moment. She said he looked very friendly and approachable, so I encouraged her to go say hi to him. There was... lots of giggling involved, and then she pulled me over to walk with her past him. We pretended to look at the vending machine nearby while loudly making pretend conversation about what we were doing, then walked by him a second time and she struck up a conversation with him by asking what class he was waiting for. I am a terrible wingwoman, so I was unable to keep a straight face and pretty much just giggled the whole time, then told her I had to go to class and said goodbye.

Something about the whole interaction just felt so lighthearted and innocent and it was really pleasant. I miss giggling over cute boys with my girl friends. Nowadays I don't really have anybody to do it with, and I also find guys attractive so infrequently that it would hardly matter if I did have someone to talk to about it.

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

"Pap Smear" by Crystal Castles.

Repeat every word that you say to me
They put you to use or put you to sleep
I can't tell you the difference between
An embryo or a planted seed

So many shades of white
So many shades of pale
I know what you hate
So I do it constantly

So many shades of white
So many shades of pale
I know how to cut
A wound that will not heal

---

I was reading about Alice Glass's experiences of abuse at the hands of Ethan Kath today. It's horrible and painful to think of her going through that for so long, especially since it apparently started when she was just a teenager. I wonder how much she even knew herself without him and Crystal Castles, after awhile. How do you know who you are when someone else dominates your life for so long?

---

Did two gym classes in a row today, rather than just the usual one. I've been doing Turbo Kick with weighted gloves for a few weeks now and the gloves no longer feel heavy to me, so I figured it was time to kick it up a notch and took a strength class right after Turbo Kick. It felt so difficult. T_T My body is weak and sad now from not going to the gym enough. I know 16 hours a week like a couple years ago would probably be excessive, but 3 hours a week doesn't feel like enough. Tomorrow I'm going to try to take another couple classes, and they just added a new Pilates class on Saturdays, so I'll go to that as well. Should be 5 hours a week with those, and once my Thursday morning class ends this week, I'll be free to do something then too. Maybe 6 hours a week? That would be more acceptable. I could feel like I was getting my money's worth from my gym membership (cost would be ~$1 per class if I went to 6 a week consistently).

---

One of my professors lent me The Unsayable: The Hidden Language of Trauma by Annie G. Rogers about three weeks ago. I finished it last night, and I am contemplating buying a copy for myself. It is an emotionally heavy book, with some pretty disturbing stories of abuse in it. It's also been intellectually hard for me to grasp on some levels, which I'm not used to. At my last grad school I felt constantly frustrated because the concepts I was supposed to be learning seemed like they would be easy enough to grasp if I weren't dissociating all the time and having physical/mental health problems. This... doesn't feel like that. This feels like an alien world I don't know how to make sense of. I learn by connecting new material to what I already know, and I have no idea how to fit these ideas into my existing knowledge base. I want to return the book to my professor but I want to reread it as well so that I can try to understand it. Maybe reading some of the author's other books will help... She has one called
Incandescent Alphabets: Psychosis and the Enigma of Language that I've been eyeing...

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

Whenever I talk to my mom about some of the rather emotionally abusive stuff that happened in one of my past relationships, she has little to no reaction except "well at least you're out of it now." It's strange, I guess, compared to the typical reaction I get from other people, which is usually shock and/or indignation, or at least sympathy. If I'm not misremembering, my mom's initial reaction was mostly just... "well why didn't you say anything about this to us while it was happening?"

Since this stuff doesn't affect me as much as it used to, sometimes I forget that in my earliest therapy sessions, a lot of what we worked on was the ways in which my mom's influence was affecting me negatively. I talk to her a lot about stuff, but her response is usually to tell me that I'm responsible for what's happening or to criticize me for not handling things in a different way. It's an odd contrast to how supportive and sympathetic she acts toward her friends. I guess I don't expect her to take my side on anything, though, so I don't really feel particularly resentful... it just seems like this is the dynamic we have.

"Dawn Again (Alphaluna Remix)" by Endanger.

You never felt fire in you heart
That burns so strong it can't be stored
And you never felt glad
About the things that you had
You always reached higher for the stars
You did not notice what you lost

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

Saturday gave me a lot to think about-- not in terms of quantity, but just... the weight of what was said. I feel like I'm thinking about things I haven't really examined or dared to touch in the past. He said some things I have known but haven't spoken aloud out of a half-conscious fear that it would make them too real.

It caught me off guard in a way that still has me reeling a couple days later.

When I read Postsecret, I always wonder what secret I could send in that I haven't told anybody. I've frequently concluded that I don't really have anything I've never told anybody anymore... but then there was this, and he spoke my secret before I realized it was a secret. I wanted to say "no, you're wrong," but it was like he found a spider silk filament of fear leading to the core of my heart, and its existence is evidence of its truth.

We exist in constant conflict between wanting and not wanting to be seen. Wanting to connect and wanting to protect ourselves. I have felt invisible for so much of my life, and have wanted so badly to be seen-- not by everyone, but by someone. Some one person. It feels like more than I can bear to be more exposed than that. This experience has been terrifying in a way. Like a small taste of what you've always thought you wanted, and finding that it exceeds what you'd imagined, what you could imagine.

I feel the need to keep going with this, even though I am afraid. I think I might have started dissociating a little. When I was talking to Sean tonight, I felt like I was a clone who had just come into existence. All the same memories, an identical body, the same habits and thoughts-- but not the person who truly experienced the past. Not the person who was there for anything. Just someone who looks and feels the same. Born in this moment but expected to carry on the life of this person as if we were one.

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

I hope I'm not a nervous spaz today. It's been such a long time since I felt this kind of anxiety. Gonna blow my cool confident cat cover if I'm not careful.

Eep.

Comment! (0) | Recommend!

"Love Me" by Charly Bliss.

I wish I could drop you in one place
Cut you down to size and watch you try to run away
'Cause your inconsistency is enough to drive a person insane
Some things we don't say

I've got a sharp pain or a dull ache
Or materials and hands to shake
I like you like I like your things
And the boxes that I put them in

And you love me, yeah you love me
Just a little less
Up above me, say you love me
Just a little less
I know what happens next

---

I've been up for roughly 19 hours, running on maybe 4 hours of sleep, though probably slightly less than that. Feeling pretty tired now.

In one of my classes, we have to write a paper about a group we would like to facilitate, and I guess we can make up whatever kind of group we want. I wonder what it would be like to have a group for depersonalized people to try to get more in touch with their experience? I started thinking about that because I still have some sadness over not feeling like my emotional language is shared by others. Typical emotional descriptors like "sad" and "happy" never feel completely right to me, though I use them to facilitate communication. I guess I thought this would change after I stopped being depersonalized so much, but it seems to have stuck. Now I'm just kind of lonely in my language.

Comment! (0) | Recommend!