It's often on the worst days
the ones where something catches me
completely off-guard,
when my brain freezes
and then explodes in panic
that i see the clearest.
Those days,
the ones i start spiraling
out of the carefully
rebuilt
control
the ones you catch
when i reach out
the days that
i wind up
prostrate
with gratitude,
limp with happiness
feeling too needy for words,
but so much calmer
those are the days i see
i am not a burden
i am not too much,
that it's okay
for me to need support
and that you don't resent
my asking,
that there are people out there
who will meet my pleas
for reassurance
with care,
with "we're here"
with love.
The reminders that
i don't have to bury myself
in fear and doubt.
And that stays
on the days i want to hide,
reminding me
that the depression and anxiety
lie
that i'm a whole human being,
and i am allowed
to need you.
3.8.16
13.7.16
Lessons Learned
i
am
passionate
complete alone,
but happy with
some
others
caring
intense
afraid, but constantly
fighting
it
contradictory
hedged about with protections
instinctive
emotionally motivated
introverted
unwilling to talk/unable to shut
up
the owner of a mask that 90%
of the people i meet
will never
get
past -
and if you think you've seen
behind the mask,
trust me:
unless you have seen me
undone by emotion,
held me
while i dissolved in tears
or in the aftermath
of a panic attack
or had
a three am conversation
about things in the center
of both our beings,
you
haven't.
i am
allowed to make my own choices
about who i let in
i am
too quick to accept guilt
for denying the fantasies of strangers
and i need to remember
that while i am responsible
for being honest
and true to myself in my interactions
with others,
i
am
not
responsible
for making sure fantasies
and reality
ever match up.
i am
quick to love
and slow to let go,
unable to forget
but quick to forgive
and understand
my forgiveness is for you
but also
for myself,
because i refuse to hate
no matter what is done.
i am
a service-oriented
painslut
bratty
pet
submissive
and i am the only one
who decides
to whom
i submit.
i am
myself.
am
passionate
complete alone,
but happy with
some
others
caring
intense
afraid, but constantly
fighting
it
contradictory
hedged about with protections
instinctive
emotionally motivated
introverted
unwilling to talk/unable to shut
up
the owner of a mask that 90%
of the people i meet
will never
get
past -
and if you think you've seen
behind the mask,
trust me:
unless you have seen me
undone by emotion,
held me
while i dissolved in tears
or in the aftermath
of a panic attack
or had
a three am conversation
about things in the center
of both our beings,
you
haven't.
i am
allowed to make my own choices
about who i let in
i am
too quick to accept guilt
for denying the fantasies of strangers
and i need to remember
that while i am responsible
for being honest
and true to myself in my interactions
with others,
i
am
not
responsible
for making sure fantasies
and reality
ever match up.
i am
quick to love
and slow to let go,
unable to forget
but quick to forgive
and understand
my forgiveness is for you
but also
for myself,
because i refuse to hate
no matter what is done.
i am
a service-oriented
painslut
bratty
pet
submissive
and i am the only one
who decides
to whom
i submit.
i am
myself.
6.7.16
Sex sex sex
Lost
i so often
stand aloof,
closed off, turned away
because once i let you in,
once we've met
in that intimacy,
the craving becomes a thing
so strong
the smell of your skin
has me reacting,
much less a casual touch
or deliberate one; i
can only let so many
in,
or i might
explode with longing:
Let me learn you
with hands and lips and tongue,
run your hands over
every
inch
of my body;
let me find the places
that bring gasps
or moans,
lose myself in you
memorize your taste and smell.
Find out
what barely grazing my skin
with your fingertips
looks like under lamplight,
day, and twilight casts,
how it makes me writhe,
let my lips speak
secrets on your skin -
Can we just
be lost together
buried in each other's flesh
for a little while?
29.6.16
Wishes
Since childhood
she has learned
that wishes, spoken aloud,
can be twisted
perverted
brought to life in horribly unexpected ways
A child snatched by goblins,
hearts ripped out
or skin torn off,
people twisted into
caricatures of themselves
by helpless, obsessive love wishes
So she locks her wishes down
keeps them behind her lips,
inside her skull,
someplace safe
and warm
and so private
no one will ever, ever hear
and twist
what she wants
into some fucked up version
of reality.
she has learned
that wishes, spoken aloud,
can be twisted
perverted
brought to life in horribly unexpected ways
A child snatched by goblins,
hearts ripped out
or skin torn off,
people twisted into
caricatures of themselves
by helpless, obsessive love wishes
So she locks her wishes down
keeps them behind her lips,
inside her skull,
someplace safe
and warm
and so private
no one will ever, ever hear
and twist
what she wants
into some fucked up version
of reality.
Dichotomies
Why are we so gentle on those
surrounding us
and so hard on ourselves?
Why express loathing, over and over,
of the things we despise in ourselves
the "weaknesses" or "flaws"
when we can see the beauty of them
in those we care for?
i tell my friends
over and over
they are lovely, wonderful, gorgeous,
good enough
for anyone or anything
while fighting my own feeling
that i must ask permission
for everything -
to talk,
to exist,
to take up space
in others' lives
to BE
i tell them
"pay attention to your limits"
while fighting my own
until i force panic attacks,
unraveling all the triggers
because i want to be DONE.
Healed.
No more fragility
no more feeling of being pathetic,
unwanted,
ignored and left behind.
i tell them
"you are never a burden,"
"anything you want or need
that i am capable of,
just ask me"
"you don't have to isolate yourself"
while shutting myself down,
feeling that if i reach out,
if i expect attention from anyone
i
am
always
a burden.
And while i know, logically,
that i am not a burden,
not pathetic or weak
or a waste of space
or resented for reaching out,
burrowing into one's own head
is so much harder
than saying it to someone else.
surrounding us
and so hard on ourselves?
Why express loathing, over and over,
of the things we despise in ourselves
the "weaknesses" or "flaws"
when we can see the beauty of them
in those we care for?
i tell my friends
over and over
they are lovely, wonderful, gorgeous,
good enough
for anyone or anything
while fighting my own feeling
that i must ask permission
for everything -
to talk,
to exist,
to take up space
in others' lives
to BE
i tell them
"pay attention to your limits"
while fighting my own
until i force panic attacks,
unraveling all the triggers
because i want to be DONE.
Healed.
No more fragility
no more feeling of being pathetic,
unwanted,
ignored and left behind.
i tell them
"you are never a burden,"
"anything you want or need
that i am capable of,
just ask me"
"you don't have to isolate yourself"
while shutting myself down,
feeling that if i reach out,
if i expect attention from anyone
i
am
always
a burden.
And while i know, logically,
that i am not a burden,
not pathetic or weak
or a waste of space
or resented for reaching out,
burrowing into one's own head
is so much harder
than saying it to someone else.
22.6.16
The Hardest Lessons
The hardest lessons
i have had to learn
all involve myself.
That it is okay
to not be okay,
even on the days that
everything
hurts
and i can no longer respond
to even gentle humor.
That in spite of it being easier
to blame myself than
to acknowledge if someone i love
is to blame for anything,
i cannot blame myself
for everything, and that
the way i'm treated is NOT
necessarily a reflection
of who i am.
That i'm allowed to have emotions,
that no one gets to dictate
how deeply i feel, or about what,
and that i'm not fucked up
just because i react strongly.
That i'm human,
allowed to expect
clarity
affection
attention
the things the voice
in the back of my head
tells me i don't deserve,
that i should never expect.
That my needs are valid,
not problems
and not issues i need to fix.
That i'm allowed to look
into another person's eyes
and say "No," clearly,
and that it is their problem
if they cannot accept it.
That i am worth loving
even on the days
i feel completely unlovable.
That the longing i feel
is valid
no matter what.
i have had to learn
all involve myself.
That it is okay
to not be okay,
even on the days that
everything
hurts
and i can no longer respond
to even gentle humor.
That in spite of it being easier
to blame myself than
to acknowledge if someone i love
is to blame for anything,
i cannot blame myself
for everything, and that
the way i'm treated is NOT
necessarily a reflection
of who i am.
That i'm allowed to have emotions,
that no one gets to dictate
how deeply i feel, or about what,
and that i'm not fucked up
just because i react strongly.
That i'm human,
allowed to expect
clarity
affection
attention
the things the voice
in the back of my head
tells me i don't deserve,
that i should never expect.
That my needs are valid,
not problems
and not issues i need to fix.
That i'm allowed to look
into another person's eyes
and say "No," clearly,
and that it is their problem
if they cannot accept it.
That i am worth loving
even on the days
i feel completely unlovable.
That the longing i feel
is valid
no matter what.
18.5.16
Frustration, or Wading Through the Crap
What no one tells you:
the sheer
utter
sometimes frenzied
FRUSTRATION
there is in healing
the loops
around and around
back through fears that surprise
even
yourself.
The urge to connect,
to reach out
to beg
for attention
affection
anything
that will help silence the fear.
The overcoming of
that guilt
shame
the conviction that he was right
that you're actually insane
and even once you're healing
even once you're mostly okay
even the times you feel
happy
part of you remains convinced
that it will all come crashing down.
Being convinced
that everyone is
angry at you
tired of you
not knowing how or why
and that's part of it.
The inability to even articulate
what you want
because fuck if you know.
All you know is that you cycle
from fear of change
to fear of everything
and back again,
and even once you begin
to eradicate the fears,
they sneak up and
ambush you
at the most unexpected times
and with the people
you shouldn't be afraid of.
The simultaneous
fear of silence - shit, did i
just upset them? Did i do or say
something wrong?
Are they angry?
And urge to curl up
in a convenient hole
and just
never
come out,
because silence
can be so comforting
if you choose it.
And gods,
the acid taste
of bringing up the thoughts
feelings
anything that makes you
vulnerable.
Having to remember:
you are not
a bad person
your friends are not angry
your concerns are valid.
No matter how hard it is
to remember any of that.
Though you can
let yourself be so
at the most surprising times
and in the oddest ways
when you are made unexpectedly
welcome,
loved,
thanked,
or when a stranger
calls you beautiful,
calls you good girl,
and you realize
as you crumple toward tears,
that
was all you wanted.
11.5.16
Paradox
For Literaturesexual Wednesday: Write all the things? Writing is sometimes the best or only outlet i have, especially when i can't find words when trying to explain myself.
Paradoxes
Sometimes
caught at the intersection
of unexpected pain
and equally unexpected happiness,
i freeze
unable to fully acknowledge
either
unsure of which way to turn
afraid
to expose the pain in words
because half the time
i cannot adequately verbalize it,
and i am afraid
of being met with judgement
instead of understanding.
And when i manage
and am met with a casual "fix it"
caught at the intersection
of unexpected pain
and equally unexpected happiness,
i freeze
unable to fully acknowledge
either
unsure of which way to turn
afraid
to expose the pain in words
because half the time
i cannot adequately verbalize it,
and i am afraid
of being met with judgement
instead of understanding.
And when i manage
and am met with a casual "fix it"
i fight the urge to withdraw
hide
run away
because
i don't see it as something
that is a serious problem -
it is part of me
the part that enables me to be so vulnerable
the part that allows me to reach out
the part that lets me connect
to anyone at all,
the part
that causes collapse
into a flood of tears
at unexpected kindness
acceptance
reassurance
and it does
not
need
fixing.
hide
run away
because
i don't see it as something
that is a serious problem -
it is part of me
the part that enables me to be so vulnerable
the part that allows me to reach out
the part that lets me connect
to anyone at all,
the part
that causes collapse
into a flood of tears
at unexpected kindness
acceptance
reassurance
and it does
not
need
fixing.
4.5.16
A List of Reasons Why You Shouldn't Date Me:
Because
i'm often irritable
or angry
and i can't always explain why.
Because
i feel everything
so deeply
that i sometimes cannot
completely control my emotional responses,
and it's the little things
that affect me most.
Because
between the anxiety
and the depression
there are days i desperately need
attention
affection
reassurance
but
i often cannot ask -
i dread
being
just an annoyance
just a burden
just a pain.
Because i'm a brat,
and sometimes it's cute
but other times
i see the line
and dance blithely across it,
until smacked
or reprimanded.
Because
while expensive presents
make me incredibly uncomfortable,
i am a downright whore
for attention
sometimes.
And like a cat,
other times i just want
to be left alone.
Because
i can talk for HOURS
about fabric,
or embroidery,
or obscure historical facts
or pretty much anything else
but mostly
i apologize too much
for my own passions.
Because
i refuse connections
or hand myself over
without a second thought
and there is no telling
which you'll get -
and when i choose
handing myself over,
i often grow afraid
after the fact,
Because
i am not
everyone's cup of tea
as the saying goes,
but maybe
i'm someone's
shot of whiskey
once in a while.
Because
part of me waits
for any new
Anything
to go sideways
regardless of what i do
or don't do.
Because
i'm often irritable
or angry
and i can't always explain why.
Because
i feel everything
so deeply
that i sometimes cannot
completely control my emotional responses,
and it's the little things
that affect me most.
Because
between the anxiety
and the depression
there are days i desperately need
attention
affection
reassurance
but
i often cannot ask -
i dread
being
just an annoyance
just a burden
just a pain.
Because i'm a brat,
and sometimes it's cute
but other times
i see the line
and dance blithely across it,
until smacked
or reprimanded.
Because
while expensive presents
make me incredibly uncomfortable,
i am a downright whore
for attention
sometimes.
And like a cat,
other times i just want
to be left alone.
Because
i can talk for HOURS
about fabric,
or embroidery,
or obscure historical facts
or pretty much anything else
but mostly
i apologize too much
for my own passions.
Because
i refuse connections
or hand myself over
without a second thought
and there is no telling
which you'll get -
and when i choose
handing myself over,
i often grow afraid
after the fact,
Because
i am not
everyone's cup of tea
as the saying goes,
but maybe
i'm someone's
shot of whiskey
once in a while.
Because
part of me waits
for any new
Anything
to go sideways
regardless of what i do
or don't do.
3.5.16
Discoveries
i am discovering
that i do not know
how to want
the things i'm told
cannot exist.
The things
that my subconscious
revisits in dreams
but that may never
see the light
of day.
But oh
i miss them
when i wake up
and remember
they were only
ever
dreams.
that i do not know
how to want
the things i'm told
cannot exist.
The things
that my subconscious
revisits in dreams
but that may never
see the light
of day.
But oh
i miss them
when i wake up
and remember
they were only
ever
dreams.
27.4.16
Paradoxes
she spends her days
in silence, stillness,
content to be alone.
she longs for contact
affection
attention
conversation
acknowledgement that she IS.
she knows where she stands
and is content, even - when she feels it -
happy.
she longs for something else,
more
not sure what, but something.
she's adult
responsible
reliable
she's a child
wild and silly
capable of going so far
overboard
that she gets smacked down.
she's loving
direct
unafraid of showing her feelings
affections
desires
she's silent
and fearful of being
so vulnerable
with anyone.
she's terrified
of everything
but makes herself pretend
to be brave
because sometimes
"Fake it til you make it"
actually works.
she doesn't ever want
to hurt or upset anyone
she cares for
she can be a total
pain in the ass.
she needs no approval
no "Good job" or
"good girl" or pats on the back
from anyone
to feel good about herself.
But if you want to see her
incandescent,
watch
when the right people
use one of those phrases.
she forgets to say
anything
to anyone
for weeks;
she talks incessantly
and can't remember
how to be still.
she is entirely
self-sufficient;
she feels
like she cannot survive
without that ring
around her throat.
Take her apart,
and you will find
equal parts
prickly bitchiness
and open love,
anger
kindness
fear
bravery
planning
and impulsiveness,
something beautiful
and strange
entirely accessible
and entirely beyond
anyone's grasp.
in silence, stillness,
content to be alone.
she longs for contact
affection
attention
conversation
acknowledgement that she IS.
she knows where she stands
and is content, even - when she feels it -
happy.
she longs for something else,
more
not sure what, but something.
she's adult
responsible
reliable
she's a child
wild and silly
capable of going so far
overboard
that she gets smacked down.
she's loving
direct
unafraid of showing her feelings
affections
desires
she's silent
and fearful of being
so vulnerable
with anyone.
she's terrified
of everything
but makes herself pretend
to be brave
because sometimes
"Fake it til you make it"
actually works.
she doesn't ever want
to hurt or upset anyone
she cares for
she can be a total
pain in the ass.
she needs no approval
no "Good job" or
"good girl" or pats on the back
from anyone
to feel good about herself.
But if you want to see her
incandescent,
watch
when the right people
use one of those phrases.
she forgets to say
anything
to anyone
for weeks;
she talks incessantly
and can't remember
how to be still.
she is entirely
self-sufficient;
she feels
like she cannot survive
without that ring
around her throat.
Take her apart,
and you will find
equal parts
prickly bitchiness
and open love,
anger
kindness
fear
bravery
planning
and impulsiveness,
something beautiful
and strange
entirely accessible
and entirely beyond
anyone's grasp.
6.4.16
Post-surgery
Recovering
recuperating
physical and mental healing
don't go well together.
Giving my body
the time it needs to heal
has given my mind
time to turn in on itself
and i can't get to the surface
some days.
Some days i'm fine,
vegging on shows and
cuddling with the pup and kitties;
others i cannot escape my own brain
and where the hell do you go
to escape those insidious
twisting
convincing
whispers at the back of your
very
own
brain?
The constant anxiety,
waiting to be told you're annoying
again
or slapped away
from everyone you know,
the insistent voice that says
you trusted your instincts
and he fucked
you
up
so don't get too comfortable now, bitch.
Don't.
Do it.
It isn't safe.
i feel like a kitten
curled up in a ball
waiting for the petting hand
to slap it
again
only
this is so much more
insidious than the physical was.
i have to reprogram my own brain
remind myself that i DO have worth
i'm worthy of being loved
i'm a good person,
i'm an interesting person
goddammit
i have been
stamping
this
into my brain for eight months
and it's still hard to remember
and some days
i want affection in the worst way
but how do i ask anyone
reach
say "hey, i need reassurance"
when i'm curled in a ball
in a corner
somewhere safe
not reaching out
because hey,
it's safer here.
recuperating
physical and mental healing
don't go well together.
Giving my body
the time it needs to heal
has given my mind
time to turn in on itself
and i can't get to the surface
some days.
Some days i'm fine,
vegging on shows and
cuddling with the pup and kitties;
others i cannot escape my own brain
and where the hell do you go
to escape those insidious
twisting
convincing
whispers at the back of your
very
own
brain?
The constant anxiety,
waiting to be told you're annoying
again
or slapped away
from everyone you know,
the insistent voice that says
you trusted your instincts
and he fucked
you
up
so don't get too comfortable now, bitch.
Don't.
Do it.
It isn't safe.
i feel like a kitten
curled up in a ball
waiting for the petting hand
to slap it
again
only
this is so much more
insidious than the physical was.
i have to reprogram my own brain
remind myself that i DO have worth
i'm worthy of being loved
i'm a good person,
i'm an interesting person
goddammit
i have been
stamping
this
into my brain for eight months
and it's still hard to remember
and some days
i want affection in the worst way
but how do i ask anyone
reach
say "hey, i need reassurance"
when i'm curled in a ball
in a corner
somewhere safe
not reaching out
because hey,
it's safer here.
The Dichotomy of Being an Introverted Empath
i get the funniest looks
sometimes
when i say "i'm an introvert."
"i need alone time."
"i'm shy."
No one seems to grasp
that the outgoing friendliness is,
for me,
a defense mechanism; that every contact
comes with a cost in bravery at
opening up to anyone else.
That the fight between
the needs of every
single
person
i meet
and my own needs
exhausts me, some days.
That any time i open up
and let another person in
some part of their life,
their story,
their pain
echoes in my own heart,
that i choose
so carefully
who i let in
and who i hold away.
No one sees
that the inside of my head
is a landscape made up of
streams
and mountains
wild forests
and all of it empty
save for me
and whomever i allow
to enter.
That my emotions run on
instinct
and whomever i let in,
be they friend
or lover
or random stranger
those people are so carefully
selected
because i cannot
hold the pain of the entire world
but i can hold the pain of a few people.
Never feel sorry
for me.
There are things in my head
more beautiful and strange
than most imagine exist
inside of me,
and the choosing i do
is never a burden.
It isn't a question
of who is worthy and who isn't,
but of whose pain
i'm strong enough to bear
without once feeling burdened,
who i can spend time with
and not need to run home;
who feels safe, trustworthy,
and who
doesn't.
It's a question
of whose motivations i understand,
not whether or not i am hurt.
It's a question
of where i choose
to let my love go,
regardless of whether
that love is ever returned
in any measure.
i once had a friend
tell me
that i was too patient, too understanding,
too nice.
i let in
the people who need
what i'm capable of giving.
The people who won't
walk over me and then away,
the ones who don't hit my flags
in ways that tell me run away,
the ones who need those
moments of safety
acceptance
love
and i can't explain
what makes me let one in
and shut one out.
All i know
is that if their lives
are in any way improved
through that contact,
it is worth everything.
sometimes
when i say "i'm an introvert."
"i need alone time."
"i'm shy."
No one seems to grasp
that the outgoing friendliness is,
for me,
a defense mechanism; that every contact
comes with a cost in bravery at
opening up to anyone else.
That the fight between
the needs of every
single
person
i meet
and my own needs
exhausts me, some days.
That any time i open up
and let another person in
some part of their life,
their story,
their pain
echoes in my own heart,
that i choose
so carefully
who i let in
and who i hold away.
No one sees
that the inside of my head
is a landscape made up of
streams
and mountains
wild forests
and all of it empty
save for me
and whomever i allow
to enter.
That my emotions run on
instinct
and whomever i let in,
be they friend
or lover
or random stranger
those people are so carefully
selected
because i cannot
hold the pain of the entire world
but i can hold the pain of a few people.
Never feel sorry
for me.
There are things in my head
more beautiful and strange
than most imagine exist
inside of me,
and the choosing i do
is never a burden.
It isn't a question
of who is worthy and who isn't,
but of whose pain
i'm strong enough to bear
without once feeling burdened,
who i can spend time with
and not need to run home;
who feels safe, trustworthy,
and who
doesn't.
It's a question
of whose motivations i understand,
not whether or not i am hurt.
It's a question
of where i choose
to let my love go,
regardless of whether
that love is ever returned
in any measure.
i once had a friend
tell me
that i was too patient, too understanding,
too nice.
i let in
the people who need
what i'm capable of giving.
The people who won't
walk over me and then away,
the ones who don't hit my flags
in ways that tell me run away,
the ones who need those
moments of safety
acceptance
love
and i can't explain
what makes me let one in
and shut one out.
All i know
is that if their lives
are in any way improved
through that contact,
it is worth everything.
30.3.16
i'm a writer
Give me a pen
and enough paper
and i can write you an impassioned
novel
on my thoughts
my feelings
everything about myself.
i can be direct,
discuss things that would normally
terrify me to admit;
i can be open about
depression
anxiety
my feelings
everything there is.
Ask me to vocalize these things
and i stumble
stutter
the glottal stops i thought were trained
out of me by a particularly neurotic
high school English teacher
becoming all my words
i will tell you ten thousand
stories
about everything and anything
except what i'm supposed
to be talking about.
i've never understood
this disconnect
between writing and speaking -
surely either way
it's the same words in the same brain
and they ought to come out the same.
But with paper,
i can edit, re-edit, rewrite,
perfect each line and word
in ways that speech has never offered.
i don't have to worry (and sometimes,
worry becomes all i am)
about misspeaking,
misphrasing,
making things seem less important
than they are
or more.
i have a chance to say precisely what i mean to,
rather than a crude, stammered approximation
of gratitude
or pain
or love
or fear
or anything else.
and enough paper
and i can write you an impassioned
novel
on my thoughts
my feelings
everything about myself.
i can be direct,
discuss things that would normally
terrify me to admit;
i can be open about
depression
anxiety
my feelings
everything there is.
Ask me to vocalize these things
and i stumble
stutter
the glottal stops i thought were trained
out of me by a particularly neurotic
high school English teacher
becoming all my words
i will tell you ten thousand
stories
about everything and anything
except what i'm supposed
to be talking about.
i've never understood
this disconnect
between writing and speaking -
surely either way
it's the same words in the same brain
and they ought to come out the same.
But with paper,
i can edit, re-edit, rewrite,
perfect each line and word
in ways that speech has never offered.
i don't have to worry (and sometimes,
worry becomes all i am)
about misspeaking,
misphrasing,
making things seem less important
than they are
or more.
i have a chance to say precisely what i mean to,
rather than a crude, stammered approximation
of gratitude
or pain
or love
or fear
or anything else.
i'm not everyone's toy
i've always had
a break
between the absence of boundaries
with those i love and the bubble i erect
with strangers.
i am a pet; i blossom under the right touch
and please let me know
when i've been a good girl,
and please put a hand
on my head and love me
and please
touch my neck, trace the line of my shirt,
but do not
if i don't know you.
i am service-oriented;
i will go to the ends of the damn earth
if asked to by those who have earned the right
But you have to earn it.
Understand: i am not your toy
not your plaything on which to foist
your personal fantasy,
Not not not
anyone's for the taking
i answer only to those i deem worthy
and it's a slippery slope
between pleasant greeting and fuck off,
if you take the wrong tone with me
or try to apply rights or pet names
where they are not welcome.
i choose to whom i belong
or want to belong
i choose who i want touching me
i. choose.
and you do not have that right
unless i let you know you do.
i am a pet,
not.
a.
doormat,
and you will find out
if you are not careful
just how fast
that door can slam.
a break
between the absence of boundaries
with those i love and the bubble i erect
with strangers.
i am a pet; i blossom under the right touch
and please let me know
when i've been a good girl,
and please put a hand
on my head and love me
and please
touch my neck, trace the line of my shirt,
but do not
if i don't know you.
i am service-oriented;
i will go to the ends of the damn earth
if asked to by those who have earned the right
But you have to earn it.
Understand: i am not your toy
not your plaything on which to foist
your personal fantasy,
Not not not
anyone's for the taking
i answer only to those i deem worthy
and it's a slippery slope
between pleasant greeting and fuck off,
if you take the wrong tone with me
or try to apply rights or pet names
where they are not welcome.
i choose to whom i belong
or want to belong
i choose who i want touching me
i. choose.
and you do not have that right
unless i let you know you do.
i am a pet,
not.
a.
doormat,
and you will find out
if you are not careful
just how fast
that door can slam.
16.3.16
Mess
Some days i'm fine
functional, stable adulthood
responding to emails
making lists
doing everything
right
on
time.
Able to communicate effortlessly,
clear
concise,
organized and brilliant and effective.
Able to handle any situation
get a grip on my emotions and do what i need to
regardless of how scary it is.
And the rest
lost inside my head
utterly
convinced
that i am hopeless,
unable to ever explain myself
peeling off my skin
and revealing the layers
underneath
unable to say Please
unable to say
anything
because silence,
that's safer.
And i am so scared
terror that eats into the back
of my brain,
and i want to say "NO"
"STOP EVERYTHING, I DON'T
WANT
TO DO THIS. I CAN'T."
And i get so angry
at myself
for believing that silence
will ever accomplish
anything. That avoidance
of everything,
surgery,
emotions,
all of it
will ever
make
anything
better.
Naked
and bewildered
and feeling so
fucking
melodramatic
for being this emotional.
functional, stable adulthood
responding to emails
making lists
doing everything
right
on
time.
Able to communicate effortlessly,
clear
concise,
organized and brilliant and effective.
Able to handle any situation
get a grip on my emotions and do what i need to
regardless of how scary it is.
And the rest
lost inside my head
utterly
convinced
that i am hopeless,
unable to ever explain myself
peeling off my skin
and revealing the layers
underneath
unable to say Please
unable to say
anything
because silence,
that's safer.
And i am so scared
terror that eats into the back
of my brain,
and i want to say "NO"
"STOP EVERYTHING, I DON'T
WANT
TO DO THIS. I CAN'T."
And i get so angry
at myself
for believing that silence
will ever accomplish
anything. That avoidance
of everything,
surgery,
emotions,
all of it
will ever
make
anything
better.
Naked
and bewildered
and feeling so
fucking
melodramatic
for being this emotional.
9.3.16
Anxiety!Brain
i joke about the duality
between normal!brain and
Anxiety!Brain: Able to Leap to the Worst Conclusion in a Single Bound
But the reality is
anxiety is the tiny voice in the back of your brain
that never
ever
shuts off.
It is the voice that tells you
that no, there ARE opinions that matter
and it isn't going to care if
your logical brain says that no, that one doesn't.
It's the shying from conversations
the shutting off of your own emotion
the refusal to see yourself
the confusion once you do.
It is the voice that says You
Are Not Allowed
to have negative emotions,
because if you do -
if you do,
you're nothing but a burden.
It is the voice that says you are not -
will never be -
accepted
loved
enjoyed for who, for what you are
that maybe who and what you are
shouldn't exist
and even when you manage to shunt
most of that to the side,
silence some,
force yourself into some semblance
of calm and reality and acceptance
random moments
will catch you utterly off-guard
Like the moment your friend says
you have accepted him more fully
than people he's known for decades,
and you realize
it's because you want that, desperately,
from those whose opinions actually matter.
Those moments you remember
that one year,
ten years ago,
where every time
your phone rang
it was someone else you loved dead
and it left you so irrational about phone calls
and the thought of picking up the phone
comes with a mix of "They'll think
Something Bad Happened" and
feeling like you need permission.
When you realize
that one word can calm
or twist your thoughts
into massive confusion
and all it takes is one.
When you recognize
that a lot of the plans you make
on a day to day basis
depend
on coping mechanisms
And when you know
that opening up to anyone
feels as though you are offering
raw, flayed underbelly
unless it doesn't,
and that "doesn't"
inevitably catches you
off-guard.
And you see clearly
that you're simultaneously
capable of infinite
patience,
understanding,
calm
But beneath the surface
that damn voice is saying,
"SEE THIS? SEE THAT?
NO
ONE
CARES."
And that voice doesn't care
if you happen to know for a fact
that it isn't true.
It doesn't matter, nothing matters
except the monologue behind your eyes
that says
You must be useful
Indispensible
and if you're not, then
what
are
you
really
But you know better.
You know your worth
has never depended on
your usefulness.
Not that anxietybrain
cares any more about it.
between normal!brain and
Anxiety!Brain: Able to Leap to the Worst Conclusion in a Single Bound
But the reality is
anxiety is the tiny voice in the back of your brain
that never
ever
shuts off.
It is the voice that tells you
that no, there ARE opinions that matter
and it isn't going to care if
your logical brain says that no, that one doesn't.
It's the shying from conversations
the shutting off of your own emotion
the refusal to see yourself
the confusion once you do.
It is the voice that says You
Are Not Allowed
to have negative emotions,
because if you do -
if you do,
you're nothing but a burden.
It is the voice that says you are not -
will never be -
accepted
loved
enjoyed for who, for what you are
that maybe who and what you are
shouldn't exist
and even when you manage to shunt
most of that to the side,
silence some,
force yourself into some semblance
of calm and reality and acceptance
random moments
will catch you utterly off-guard
Like the moment your friend says
you have accepted him more fully
than people he's known for decades,
and you realize
it's because you want that, desperately,
from those whose opinions actually matter.
Those moments you remember
that one year,
ten years ago,
where every time
your phone rang
it was someone else you loved dead
and it left you so irrational about phone calls
and the thought of picking up the phone
comes with a mix of "They'll think
Something Bad Happened" and
feeling like you need permission.
When you realize
that one word can calm
or twist your thoughts
into massive confusion
and all it takes is one.
When you recognize
that a lot of the plans you make
on a day to day basis
depend
on coping mechanisms
And when you know
that opening up to anyone
feels as though you are offering
raw, flayed underbelly
unless it doesn't,
and that "doesn't"
inevitably catches you
off-guard.
And you see clearly
that you're simultaneously
capable of infinite
patience,
understanding,
calm
But beneath the surface
that damn voice is saying,
"SEE THIS? SEE THAT?
NO
ONE
CARES."
And that voice doesn't care
if you happen to know for a fact
that it isn't true.
It doesn't matter, nothing matters
except the monologue behind your eyes
that says
You must be useful
Indispensible
and if you're not, then
what
are
you
really
But you know better.
You know your worth
has never depended on
your usefulness.
Not that anxietybrain
cares any more about it.
1.3.16
The Unexpected Aftereffects of Emotional Abuse
You never know
what will hit
or when
or how
until you're bent double
or suddenly running,
gasping under the weight
of yet another unintentional comment
and you never know
who will hit,
a random co-worker,
a friend who would never want
to hurt you,
a stranger on the street
and suddenly the back of your brain,
that part conditioned to believe
that surely
of course
ANYTHING bad is true
because when he presented all your "faults"
he said "You want the truth? I'll give you the truth"
and then he dropped bombs in your brain
with the force of a fucking fighter plane
and they were bad bad bad girl,
weak
pathetic
playing the victim despite your feeling that
everything was All Your Fault,
casting blame on everyone around you
never mind that three days after
he was telling you that "everyone else"
said it was your fault
and hell, you already believed it
that no one needed you,
that you needed to be needed when you don't,
that you had no worth
without someone needing something
from you
too needy
too emotional
too much for him to handle
and if the person who collared you can't,
who else would want to, and why
would anyone want you?
And even now, months on,
now that you've defused most of those triggers
there are moments you still believe them
How he built up good/bad girl to flying or falling
how he used talking all the time as an "I love you" equivalent
or ignoring you for punishment
until you were begging
(you swore you'd never beg)
until that sick pit
in the bottom of your stomach
never
went
away
Until you have to fight through all this shit
aftermath
to keep from projecting all his actions
onto unsuspecting people who
would never
hurt
you.
Until you were so fucking desperate
just to be told you were a decent person
that the right voice saying "good girl"
makes you cry.
But you can get back.
You are not
any of what he told you was "true"
you are wondrous,
strange and beautiful
loving and child-like and adult
lover and caretaker and wife and pet
and you can go back there.
You can be
who you have always been,
under all that insecurity.
what will hit
or when
or how
until you're bent double
or suddenly running,
gasping under the weight
of yet another unintentional comment
and you never know
who will hit,
a random co-worker,
a friend who would never want
to hurt you,
a stranger on the street
and suddenly the back of your brain,
that part conditioned to believe
that surely
of course
ANYTHING bad is true
because when he presented all your "faults"
he said "You want the truth? I'll give you the truth"
and then he dropped bombs in your brain
with the force of a fucking fighter plane
and they were bad bad bad girl,
weak
pathetic
playing the victim despite your feeling that
everything was All Your Fault,
casting blame on everyone around you
never mind that three days after
he was telling you that "everyone else"
said it was your fault
and hell, you already believed it
that no one needed you,
that you needed to be needed when you don't,
that you had no worth
without someone needing something
from you
too needy
too emotional
too much for him to handle
and if the person who collared you can't,
who else would want to, and why
would anyone want you?
And even now, months on,
now that you've defused most of those triggers
there are moments you still believe them
How he built up good/bad girl to flying or falling
how he used talking all the time as an "I love you" equivalent
or ignoring you for punishment
until you were begging
(you swore you'd never beg)
until that sick pit
in the bottom of your stomach
never
went
away
Until you have to fight through all this shit
aftermath
to keep from projecting all his actions
onto unsuspecting people who
would never
hurt
you.
Until you were so fucking desperate
just to be told you were a decent person
that the right voice saying "good girl"
makes you cry.
But you can get back.
You are not
any of what he told you was "true"
you are wondrous,
strange and beautiful
loving and child-like and adult
lover and caretaker and wife and pet
and you can go back there.
You can be
who you have always been,
under all that insecurity.
24.2.16
Bad Days
Some days i'm fine
and some,
i feel flayed
curling around that hole
i didn't realize existed until
it was already growing bigger.
The moments in which
i realize
nothing
meant
anything.
and some,
i feel flayed
curling around that hole
i didn't realize existed until
it was already growing bigger.
The moments in which
i realize
nothing
meant
anything.
9.2.16
Healing
Twisting and turning
i'm threading a Labyrinth
No string in my pocket
to guide me back home
i got there somehow
and one day i'll be home again
Home in my heart
in my mind
in my soul
It's long and it's winding
full of drop-traps
and pitfalls
But my heart knows the way
to take me back home.
Even the days
when i shrink into myself
even then i'm still moving
still doggedly threading
the twisted pathways
to return to my home
And people i meet
while threading the labyrinth
they help me or hinder
but i keep moving on
missing that hand
or those eyes
or that everything
but i hope they'll be there
when i get back home.
While all that i want
is to stop here and rest
all that i need
is your arm and your smile
i have to keep moving
keep threading the labyrinth
by now i can see it,
i see my way home.
He's waiting there for me,
been waiting for years now
for me to emerge and to
find my way home
and while i have hope
that you'll meet me there someday
i have to keep moving
to finally get home.
i'm threading a Labyrinth
No string in my pocket
to guide me back home
i got there somehow
and one day i'll be home again
Home in my heart
in my mind
in my soul
It's long and it's winding
full of drop-traps
and pitfalls
But my heart knows the way
to take me back home.
Even the days
when i shrink into myself
even then i'm still moving
still doggedly threading
the twisted pathways
to return to my home
And people i meet
while threading the labyrinth
they help me or hinder
but i keep moving on
missing that hand
or those eyes
or that everything
but i hope they'll be there
when i get back home.
While all that i want
is to stop here and rest
all that i need
is your arm and your smile
i have to keep moving
keep threading the labyrinth
by now i can see it,
i see my way home.
He's waiting there for me,
been waiting for years now
for me to emerge and to
find my way home
and while i have hope
that you'll meet me there someday
i have to keep moving
to finally get home.
29.1.16
Conscious recognition
This isn't a request for advice; it's an "i can't possibly be the only one experiencing this particular dichotomy between friendship and romance; do you guys overcome or just accept fears? How do you feel about it? Does it weird anyone else out entirely?" post.
My therapist has been working with me to remove the blinders i put on myself years ago. i've always been a closet romantic, and when i was a teen i had some issues with seeing romantic intent via actions - i've always placed more reliance on body language/nonverbal communication than on words, because it's a lot harder to lie nonverbally. Because i got in trouble several times over it, i forced myself to write off any actions that didn't have words backing them up as people just being friendly; over the past 4 years, i also closed myself off so badly that i stopped being able to recognize my *own* feelings if they shifted.
With her help, i've been regaining emotional control after having cracked that shell open wide immediately following my and X's breakup, as well as consciously acknowledging my feelings. i've dealt directly with some of them, specifically in regards to one couple i'm friends with. The other couple i'm still on the fence about even sleeping with, much less whether i could manage - or WANT - to shift from "these are friends i'm not doing anything with" to "these are people i'd be okay with dating." i've been on a date, which in and of itself was kind of a big step for my "relationship, THEN date" self :P.
One block i'm running into is the idea of admitting my feelings to a person if they shift from friendship to romance. It isn't always easy for others to tell if that happens, as i'm overtly loving and cuddly with anyone i feel particularly close to whether i have romantic interest in them or not.
When my therapist asked how i felt about telling a person if my feelings had shifted without them speaking up first, i had a full-on catatonic panic attack in her office. So now i'm having to figure out that divide - why do i have no issues at all telling friends i care, being affectionate, being loving, and yet flip my shit at the idea of admitting romantic love?
Is it that part of me still reacts to the whole societal ideal of love being a Huge Big Thing that will Change Your Entire Life, whereas it's unlikely that admitting to love would actually change much of anything, depending on the other person/myself/what (if anything) either of us wanted?
Is it that i'm an introvert who really doesn't like opening up to more than a few people at once?
Is it a holdover from the catastrophic experiences with X, this subconscious feeling that if i admit to romantic feeling, i'm setting myself up to end up shutting off and ignoring my instincts for someone because i'm too afraid to just let them go even if it becomes painfully obvious it needs to happen?
Is it as simple as - i don't feel i have a right to speak up, unless someone else approaches me first?
i've been pondering a lot of questions and not finding many answers, but i feel like the only way i'm ever going to be able to progress in my own healing process, as a poly person, and in exploring potential partners and developing relationships is to somehow get over the fear/anxiety/sense of doom. i just haven't been able to figure out how to do that.
My therapist has been working with me to remove the blinders i put on myself years ago. i've always been a closet romantic, and when i was a teen i had some issues with seeing romantic intent via actions - i've always placed more reliance on body language/nonverbal communication than on words, because it's a lot harder to lie nonverbally. Because i got in trouble several times over it, i forced myself to write off any actions that didn't have words backing them up as people just being friendly; over the past 4 years, i also closed myself off so badly that i stopped being able to recognize my *own* feelings if they shifted.
With her help, i've been regaining emotional control after having cracked that shell open wide immediately following my and X's breakup, as well as consciously acknowledging my feelings. i've dealt directly with some of them, specifically in regards to one couple i'm friends with. The other couple i'm still on the fence about even sleeping with, much less whether i could manage - or WANT - to shift from "these are friends i'm not doing anything with" to "these are people i'd be okay with dating." i've been on a date, which in and of itself was kind of a big step for my "relationship, THEN date" self :P.
One block i'm running into is the idea of admitting my feelings to a person if they shift from friendship to romance. It isn't always easy for others to tell if that happens, as i'm overtly loving and cuddly with anyone i feel particularly close to whether i have romantic interest in them or not.
When my therapist asked how i felt about telling a person if my feelings had shifted without them speaking up first, i had a full-on catatonic panic attack in her office. So now i'm having to figure out that divide - why do i have no issues at all telling friends i care, being affectionate, being loving, and yet flip my shit at the idea of admitting romantic love?
Is it that part of me still reacts to the whole societal ideal of love being a Huge Big Thing that will Change Your Entire Life, whereas it's unlikely that admitting to love would actually change much of anything, depending on the other person/myself/what (if anything) either of us wanted?
Is it that i'm an introvert who really doesn't like opening up to more than a few people at once?
Is it a holdover from the catastrophic experiences with X, this subconscious feeling that if i admit to romantic feeling, i'm setting myself up to end up shutting off and ignoring my instincts for someone because i'm too afraid to just let them go even if it becomes painfully obvious it needs to happen?
Is it as simple as - i don't feel i have a right to speak up, unless someone else approaches me first?
i've been pondering a lot of questions and not finding many answers, but i feel like the only way i'm ever going to be able to progress in my own healing process, as a poly person, and in exploring potential partners and developing relationships is to somehow get over the fear/anxiety/sense of doom. i just haven't been able to figure out how to do that.
20.1.16
Welcome to the Clusterfuck
It feels so good
to finally breathe
eat
live
function without that horrible, sickening fear
that "what's next?"
Overshadowing every thought and word
every waking moment -
but i need you to understand
that while there are entire regions of my emotions
the equivalent of mountains,
lakes, rivers, oceans
where all is beautiful and free
where i love fiercely and deeply
Where you can roam without worries, indulging
in whatever expression of affection you find good
There are also entire swaths of salted land
and abandoned buildings
Filled with mines and booby traps
over the past four years
by someone who used "sorry" and "I love you"
as if they were bandaids to cover the
cruel
terrible
lies that were fed directly into the few insecurities
i still had
and expanded those insecurities
into an actively suicidal mess
who shut off
any possibility of connection
because she wasn't worth
caring about.
Why did it take me
so long to see clearly
so long that i'm still
just now discovering
new revelations
and new shocks
about his character and who he is
that i told myself were totally wrong?
Love became blind fear and i covered
all of it
ignored my intuition
ignored the voice that said
for six months before we split
that this was over,
acknowledge it and move on
and my fear
shame
that feeling that he was right and i am this
pathetic
crazy
bad bad bad
submissive and poly person
and too emotional and too needy
AND WAY TOO MUCH FOR ANYONE SANE
to handle
and all the bombs he dropped integrated into my being
and it became so much easier
to believe the lies he told
than to see the good truths in myself
because It Was All My Fault
all of it
and it was so much easier to blame myself
than to blame someone i loved,
to listen to those outside the clusterfuck
who told me it was not my fault.
And over the past six months
i have been desperately working
with an excellent bomb squad
in the form of therapy and quality time spent
discussing everything with my husband,
my constant voice of reason
to disarm and explode all that ordinance.
But i need you to understand
there will be days where i'm either clingy
or entirely shut off
There will be times that i absolutely believe
that my interest and others'
will forever be at odds;
That my interest and theirs will never align
long enough to form a bond
that doesn't terrify one of the two of us,
That no one i love
except the man who has stuck with me
through nine years and
the implosion of a relationship
based on illusion
Will ever love me
and for gods' sake, DO NOT
make the mistake others have -
do not refuse to see this man's vitality and love
and my love for him,
do not refuse to see how he is my sanity
and my voice of reason every day
That this is how i love,
with that deep undercurrent of constant, unwavering affection
and absolute determination that things will work,
and that he met that trust and surpassed it
and i believe utterly
and absolutely
in the reality
of meeting halfway and building
strength and love and understanding
in other places, with other people,
and he supports me firmly in that belief.
There will be times that you encounter parts
and pieces of that minefield
and sometimes not even i know
what will set off a panic-bomb.
And so much of the time
i spend thinking that
i am completely foolish,
i have no right to ask anyone to love this mess
no right to think that anyone
would want to climb into my head and heart
and take any chance of hitting
all that ordinance
inside the dark parts of my being.
There will be times that
all i need
is a word of reassurance
or acknowledgement
or care
But i won't always know how to ask
and i will try
and there are entire continents in my being
That are still beautiful and undevastated
and i am clearing the topsoil
from the places the earth was salted
and every
single
loving
word
you utter
Forms itself into a backhoe to help clear that salted earth.
to finally breathe
eat
live
function without that horrible, sickening fear
that "what's next?"
Overshadowing every thought and word
every waking moment -
but i need you to understand
that while there are entire regions of my emotions
the equivalent of mountains,
lakes, rivers, oceans
where all is beautiful and free
where i love fiercely and deeply
Where you can roam without worries, indulging
in whatever expression of affection you find good
There are also entire swaths of salted land
and abandoned buildings
Filled with mines and booby traps
over the past four years
by someone who used "sorry" and "I love you"
as if they were bandaids to cover the
cruel
terrible
lies that were fed directly into the few insecurities
i still had
and expanded those insecurities
into an actively suicidal mess
who shut off
any possibility of connection
because she wasn't worth
caring about.
Why did it take me
so long to see clearly
so long that i'm still
just now discovering
new revelations
and new shocks
about his character and who he is
that i told myself were totally wrong?
Love became blind fear and i covered
all of it
ignored my intuition
ignored the voice that said
for six months before we split
that this was over,
acknowledge it and move on
and my fear
shame
that feeling that he was right and i am this
pathetic
crazy
bad bad bad
submissive and poly person
and too emotional and too needy
AND WAY TOO MUCH FOR ANYONE SANE
to handle
and all the bombs he dropped integrated into my being
and it became so much easier
to believe the lies he told
than to see the good truths in myself
because It Was All My Fault
all of it
and it was so much easier to blame myself
than to blame someone i loved,
to listen to those outside the clusterfuck
who told me it was not my fault.
And over the past six months
i have been desperately working
with an excellent bomb squad
in the form of therapy and quality time spent
discussing everything with my husband,
my constant voice of reason
to disarm and explode all that ordinance.
But i need you to understand
there will be days where i'm either clingy
or entirely shut off
There will be times that i absolutely believe
that my interest and others'
will forever be at odds;
That my interest and theirs will never align
long enough to form a bond
that doesn't terrify one of the two of us,
That no one i love
except the man who has stuck with me
through nine years and
the implosion of a relationship
based on illusion
Will ever love me
and for gods' sake, DO NOT
make the mistake others have -
do not refuse to see this man's vitality and love
and my love for him,
do not refuse to see how he is my sanity
and my voice of reason every day
That this is how i love,
with that deep undercurrent of constant, unwavering affection
and absolute determination that things will work,
and that he met that trust and surpassed it
and i believe utterly
and absolutely
in the reality
of meeting halfway and building
strength and love and understanding
in other places, with other people,
and he supports me firmly in that belief.
There will be times that you encounter parts
and pieces of that minefield
and sometimes not even i know
what will set off a panic-bomb.
And so much of the time
i spend thinking that
i am completely foolish,
i have no right to ask anyone to love this mess
no right to think that anyone
would want to climb into my head and heart
and take any chance of hitting
all that ordinance
inside the dark parts of my being.
There will be times that
all i need
is a word of reassurance
or acknowledgement
or care
But i won't always know how to ask
and i will try
and there are entire continents in my being
That are still beautiful and undevastated
and i am clearing the topsoil
from the places the earth was salted
and every
single
loving
word
you utter
Forms itself into a backhoe to help clear that salted earth.
13.1.16
Care and Feeding of Your Gwen
Congratulations, you've somehow acquired a Gwen! Perhaps that should be condolences, but either way, you'll need this guide. The Gwen is weird and tends to be contradictory, but will absolutely blossom under the right touch and is worth the work of caring for.
1. On friendship: this one's pretty variable. If you've acquired her as a friend, go gently. She likes you (trust us, you'd know if she didn't) but her needs may vary from frequent in-person contact to infrequent and erratic chats via text or messenger. She's unlikely to suggest getting together, because she often doesn't think about actually seeing other people (introverts, y'all), but will probably respond enthusiastically should you suggest it. If she doesn't, don't be discouraged; she may have used up all her emotional spoons that day and simply need alone time. If she does suggest getting together, she views you as important, period.
2. On habits: the Gwen picks up random habits (vaping, going to bed at a specific time, talking a lot, scratching her butt) and doesn't break with them easily. She's a creature of habit. If you are trying to break her of one or more habits with regards to either herself or you, be kind. She may get scared.
3. On brain chemistry: she has both clinical depression and anxiety disorder. She'll have good days and shitty days, and 99% of the time they'll have nothing to do with you. Please do not take it personally if she is silent one day, or grumpy, or sad; she'll be better eventually. Do not under any circumstances utter the phrases "just get over it" or "just calm down." This summons the Redheaded Bitch.
4. On communication: she's overly honest and open, or she's completely closed off. She may talk to you once every six months, or once every few weeks, or a lot. It will depend on several factors, including level of interest, type of conversation, and whether the stars align properly that day. She may dispense personal information right and left while sitting on how she feels about you, or something you've asked her about, or she may not.
5. On seduction: she'll figure out you want to sleep with her when one of two things happen - if you are actively kissing, fondling, and undressing her or if you tell her "i want to have sex with you." If she responds enthusiastically, great! If not, don't push. It's rude.
6. On dates: if you would like to go on a date with her, your best bet is to tell her this directly - preferably with enough lead time for her to adjust (her default assumption is no romantic interest until otherwise stated) but DO NOT GIVE HER ENOUGH TIME TO OVERTHINK IT. Just don't. Four days' warning is usually good. Hints such as "i need a girlfriend who isn't flighty," "we need a girlfriend," or "i like dates" don't work. She will sympathize and continue being oblivious. If she says no, accept the no. She'll just keep saying no, with increasing irritation levels, if you push.
7. On romantic interest: she is clumsy and often blind to her own and others' feelings. If you know her well enough to actually love her, chances are she feels the same way and either hasn't acknowledged it or hasn't said anything because she assumes friendship until otherwise stated. If you express romantic interest and she indicates that your interest is not returned, accept it. To do otherwise is to expect her to produce emotions she doesn't feel, and that isn't going to happen. She will accept it if she expresses romantic interest in you and you tell her you aren't interested, trust us.
8. On moods: your Gwen does have a temper. If she gets overly snarky (not to be confused with normal snark levels, wherein she's generally silly and sarcastic), verify she's had enough food, sleep, caffeine, and nicotine lately. If necessary give her alone time. She will recover and go back to being sunny.
9. On affection: she loves it. Pet names, pets, cuddles, kisses, being told you care, all of the above are 100% good all day every day for as long as you feel like doling them out. Assuming she's comfy with you invading her weirdly flexible personal space. Keep in mind that spurts of affection interspersed with little/no expression of affection may result in her anxiety going haywire because she's unsure which side of that equation is accurate.
10. On fear: the Gwen has several fears. It goes with the territory of depression and anxiety. If you inadvertently hit a fear-trigger and she misbehaves, gentle but firm reminders that she's safe, you care, but the behavior is unacceptable will correct her behavior. If treated harshly, she will retreat into silent confusion and often wind up afraid to even bring up situations that bother her. If told you care in terms that are too generic, she will also retreat into silence and confusion. Be specific. Specificity is AWESOME.
11. Feelings do not equal relationships. Let's repeat that. For the Gwen, FEELINGS do NOT equal RELATIONSHIPS. If she talks about her feelings, she isn't saying "i want a relationship." If you talk to her about YOUR feelings, she will not assume you want a relationship. That has to be a totally separate conversation.
Good luck, godspeed, and remember: if cared for properly, your Gwen will be a loving, understanding, infinitely patient companion.
1. On friendship: this one's pretty variable. If you've acquired her as a friend, go gently. She likes you (trust us, you'd know if she didn't) but her needs may vary from frequent in-person contact to infrequent and erratic chats via text or messenger. She's unlikely to suggest getting together, because she often doesn't think about actually seeing other people (introverts, y'all), but will probably respond enthusiastically should you suggest it. If she doesn't, don't be discouraged; she may have used up all her emotional spoons that day and simply need alone time. If she does suggest getting together, she views you as important, period.
2. On habits: the Gwen picks up random habits (vaping, going to bed at a specific time, talking a lot, scratching her butt) and doesn't break with them easily. She's a creature of habit. If you are trying to break her of one or more habits with regards to either herself or you, be kind. She may get scared.
3. On brain chemistry: she has both clinical depression and anxiety disorder. She'll have good days and shitty days, and 99% of the time they'll have nothing to do with you. Please do not take it personally if she is silent one day, or grumpy, or sad; she'll be better eventually. Do not under any circumstances utter the phrases "just get over it" or "just calm down." This summons the Redheaded Bitch.
4. On communication: she's overly honest and open, or she's completely closed off. She may talk to you once every six months, or once every few weeks, or a lot. It will depend on several factors, including level of interest, type of conversation, and whether the stars align properly that day. She may dispense personal information right and left while sitting on how she feels about you, or something you've asked her about, or she may not.
5. On seduction: she'll figure out you want to sleep with her when one of two things happen - if you are actively kissing, fondling, and undressing her or if you tell her "i want to have sex with you." If she responds enthusiastically, great! If not, don't push. It's rude.
6. On dates: if you would like to go on a date with her, your best bet is to tell her this directly - preferably with enough lead time for her to adjust (her default assumption is no romantic interest until otherwise stated) but DO NOT GIVE HER ENOUGH TIME TO OVERTHINK IT. Just don't. Four days' warning is usually good. Hints such as "i need a girlfriend who isn't flighty," "we need a girlfriend," or "i like dates" don't work. She will sympathize and continue being oblivious. If she says no, accept the no. She'll just keep saying no, with increasing irritation levels, if you push.
7. On romantic interest: she is clumsy and often blind to her own and others' feelings. If you know her well enough to actually love her, chances are she feels the same way and either hasn't acknowledged it or hasn't said anything because she assumes friendship until otherwise stated. If you express romantic interest and she indicates that your interest is not returned, accept it. To do otherwise is to expect her to produce emotions she doesn't feel, and that isn't going to happen. She will accept it if she expresses romantic interest in you and you tell her you aren't interested, trust us.
8. On moods: your Gwen does have a temper. If she gets overly snarky (not to be confused with normal snark levels, wherein she's generally silly and sarcastic), verify she's had enough food, sleep, caffeine, and nicotine lately. If necessary give her alone time. She will recover and go back to being sunny.
9. On affection: she loves it. Pet names, pets, cuddles, kisses, being told you care, all of the above are 100% good all day every day for as long as you feel like doling them out. Assuming she's comfy with you invading her weirdly flexible personal space. Keep in mind that spurts of affection interspersed with little/no expression of affection may result in her anxiety going haywire because she's unsure which side of that equation is accurate.
10. On fear: the Gwen has several fears. It goes with the territory of depression and anxiety. If you inadvertently hit a fear-trigger and she misbehaves, gentle but firm reminders that she's safe, you care, but the behavior is unacceptable will correct her behavior. If treated harshly, she will retreat into silent confusion and often wind up afraid to even bring up situations that bother her. If told you care in terms that are too generic, she will also retreat into silence and confusion. Be specific. Specificity is AWESOME.
11. Feelings do not equal relationships. Let's repeat that. For the Gwen, FEELINGS do NOT equal RELATIONSHIPS. If she talks about her feelings, she isn't saying "i want a relationship." If you talk to her about YOUR feelings, she will not assume you want a relationship. That has to be a totally separate conversation.
Good luck, godspeed, and remember: if cared for properly, your Gwen will be a loving, understanding, infinitely patient companion.
6.1.16
Interactions
Suspicion. Meeting new people, my foremost emotion tends to be a mixture of caution and suspicion - i don't open up completely until i've formed a mental image of who someone is, what they want, and what motivates them. Often i don't open up even then. i tend to pick and choose who i let see anything beyond my cheerful, competent surface self. This doesn't apply as much in "safe" spaces - SCA events, conventions (specifically other volunteers; i view convention-goers as a whole as a loud bunch of scary people xD), small groups where i'm completely comfortable.
Wariness. If someone acts very familiar with me when they haven't interacted with me much, haven't actually gotten to know who i am, i stare from my corner and often wind up backing the hell away as fast as my legs will carry me.
Adult-to-adult. If i open up to someone else, it's generally on an adult level. Potential friends get the adult me, the me that acknowledges that yes, the clinical depression and anxiety exist, they're hellish some days, and DO NOT fucking call them cute, PLEASE - but i still often restrain the unbridled squealing that happens whenever i see something i love, the goofiness, and the child side.
Trust and safety. Once i've opened up completely, i will trust absolutely and feel completely safe until or unless i am shown that i'm not safe/shouldn't trust someone else. Generally the guaranteed way to completely destroy my trust and sense of safety is to lie to me. Confusing me, not being clear with me, can cause issues as well, but i tend to be a lot more understanding of confusion than of being lied to.
Child. If i hit emotional extremes - confusion, hurt, trying to figure out dichotomies in words vs. actions or some such, the child side comes out. i can go from adorable to annoying without realizing i've done so, and if i'm gently but firmly informed that no, that isn't okay, i'll generally be able to pull myself back together and recognize when i hit the edge of annoying. If i'm shoved away, i go into a spiral and end up afraid to do or say ANYTHING because something might be bad. It's exhausting and i really hate that my brain does this, but thanks to the anxiety and depression i can't always control it.
Reactions: i generally end up with people hitting several specific areas in the back of my brain upon either first meeting, or as we interact and build some sort of relationship or another.
There are people who hit my brain as "this is someone i am not sure of." Those people may see glimpses of me but won't see all of me, ever.
There are people who hit my brain as "this is a potential friend, but there's no chemistry whatsoever otherwise." Those i tend to interact with on varying levels, depending on how close we get, how often we spend time together, and what the time we spend together is like.
There are people who hit my brain as "this is a potential friend, and there's potential for chemistry/a relationship/etc there too." They see just about everything, eventually, if we become close or if other levels start to develop.
Finally, in a nod to my kink side: there are people who hit my brain as "this is someone who deserves submission and trust." These people tend to see every single aspect of me quickly, if/when i get to know them and open up. The cute brat, the bitchy brat, the childlike squealing in excitement, the adult, the comforter, the caretaker, the needy girl, all of it.
i think the point of this particular exercise was to have me consciously recognize the different ways i do or don't connect with others, and the positive sides of every way that i connect. i'm still looking for positives in the bitchy brat/neediness, but i figure i'll eventually find some.
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