July 2012

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Another Irrelevant Ramble

26 July, 2012 in Just Stuff | 3 comments

I understand why I always crave a cigarette after therapy, it’s stressful, and smoking was my main form of anti-anxiety medication. However, I wonder why I crave cigarettes when doing housework. It’s the oddest thing, even now after luxing or cleaning the bathroom I want a smoke.

I get that smoking is bad. I think it’s good to help people stop. I’m not pro-smoking, even if I would be still smoking now if I could have afforded it. But I find the anti-smoking campaigners to be the most self-righteous bunch of people. Whenever I hear one of them ranting on about the evils of smoking I want to light up, I want to start smoking, I want to say fuck you and blow smoke in their faces. Seriously I don’t think they do their cause any good. And then there is the scapegoating of the smoking industry and smokers. Politicians can denounce smokers, make regulations, increase taxes and no one cares. Say or do the same thing with alcohol all hell would break loose, and jobs, specifically, their jobs would be under threat. Address issues about domestic and child violence, look at our poverty levels, investigate issues about social justice, that’s all in the too hard basket, too controversial, so instead we’ll just stand on this box and scream about the evils of tobacco.

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I know no one else I know watches Australian Masterchef so this is all pointless to you, doesn’t stop me though.

Ben and Andy, such a bromance. Although I so want them to end up in a happy gay cooking partnership.

What I don’t get is what the story with Julia is. I just don’t get the way this woman becomes at the centre of everything. Is it because she’s tall, slender and blonde? Am I that cynical? Yeah I really am. From the beginning she was proclaimed the dessert queen. Ok yes, she loves desserts and baking, she wants to run her own pastry shop. But there were two other women on the shop that were into the baking side of cooking, one of them also making it to finals week, but they were completely overlooked, it was like they didn’t count, like they didn’t compare. Then there have been the times when she didn’t do well with her cooking. Instead of treating her like all the other contestants, where the judges have gone, yeah you’ve had a bad day, this isn’t right, you could have done better, they seen to rush to find good things to say, to spin it into a positive review of her attempt. Yes she gets teary eyed, and maybe the judges fall for some little girl needing protection issue, I don’t know. I just don’t get it. To me she comes off as arrogant, considering herself better than and above everyone else, but hey, she’s pretty, young and blonde, so perhaps ability and personality don’t matter.

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I was on a forum on fetlife, Intelligence Kink. I assumed, when joining it was a group for people that liked more intellectual pursuits, whatever that was. What I found was an environment that so reminded me of all I used to hate about DP. It is full of people that not only seem to be out to prove their superiority by writing things in the most complicated and exclusive ways, but also needed to attack others as not being as intelligent, as academic and knowledgeable as themselves. And it gets so very clicky. If you don’t agree with someone they will tear you to shreds, they will attack you on stupid things like grammar, or demand that you cite your evidence for everything you say. If you support their argument then no evidence is needed, issues of grammar and spelling is just for poor losers that can’t win an argument. It’s petty and childish, so yeah, unsubscribed from that group.

pissy rantyness

21 July, 2012 in Multiplicity, Vents | 1 comment

When I hear people whispering about reading 50 Shades of Grey, and how it’s so extreme and pornography, I really want to bash my head repeatedly against my desk. However I am not about to out myself to these people so I grind my teeth and say nothing. Now I haven’t read the book, but the bits I have either read or heard, well soft core erotica at best, badly written soft core erotica. As for the so called stern Master, I get the feeling, one stern word and he’d be on his knees in a second. And the heroine, seriously what is wrong with this woman’s nervous system if one smack with a riding crop has her crying out in pain. Of course the reality of a hard whipping would never sell, it isn’t romantic and titillating. And that is what this book is, titillation for the masses. It is what it is, I’m just tired of hearing about it spoken of like it is something different. End rant

Next rant, ok it’s not even a rant, it’s a niggle, a pet peeve, a this is totally understandable, realistic and will never change, but I want to bitch about it anyway. When I was living with Sue she was really interested in our multiplicity, she asked a lot of questions, and learnt to tell us apart, and originally we thought really accept us. But it was almost like, although she knew when Sarah was out, or that Datyn was the only one that drunk milk in her coffee, we weren’t separate people, we were just all Shire but with different names. An example, when she’d see us at the cafe at University and come over to join us, she’s see our coffee, she’s know it was Datyn, sometimes calling her by name, but also knowing that Datyn didn’t like anything to do with school, didn’t go to school, didn’t want to know anything about school, Sue would then sit down and start talking about it, did we get our assignment back, what was the lecture about, what was our understanding of Vygotsky. Now Datyn might have wanted to tell Sue to fuck off, and if she had would have probably had a lot of backing from others, but back then, and even to a degree now, we has some major compliance issues, so instead she would switch out, and the school related person would come back. (This was on good days when system protocols were working effectively). Of course it meant Datyn lost her time, and the other person didn’t get the down time they needed, and no one got to enjoy the cappuccino, but we were compliant little bunnies and gave Sue what she needed.

Nowdays it still happens. Not as extreme maybe, and not as unchallenged. And yes, in a lot of cases it comes from people that don’t even know we are multiple, let alone have any understanding of what that means. I mean, if at the end of the day, seeing that we are alone, Melanie decides she’s the one that will take over, get us to the bus stop and then home, all fine and good, if at the last moment, another student jumps on the elevator, and starts talking about the Masters, it’s not their fault really, that Melanie has to do the shift change to someone that either has the answers, or the ability to bullshit through the conversation. It’s not that person’s fault, we can’t really be angry with them, but yeah we do. It’s unfair of us, but it’s just so frustrating, and it’s a blatant reminder of how alone we feel. When the same sort of thing happens for those that know we are multiple, or people that are also multiple, the frustration increases. Again to be fair, we can’t really blame them. We are good at keeping our identities hidden, too many years living in enemy territory to just give up that habit, but we are trying. So when someone comes online, and says “hey” we don’t respond “Hi this is such and such”. So when the conversation starts and we scramble to find the appropriate person and get them in place, it isn’t the other person’s fault, we really have no right to be angry with the, even though we often are. And yeah I know about a third of these people would understand if we were to tell them, they would either change the subject to something else, or if it was important but not urgent, send an email or ask to leave a message.

And its not that we have issues with people wanted to speak with certain ones of us. In fact that’s the opposite, that makes us feel recognised and accepted. If you’ve just been to an amazing art exhibition and ask to speak to Carrie, or you say “did Felena see that dance” then it shows that you see that these people are individuals, I know shit all about art, I go, yeah it’s pretty move on, Carrie can sit for long stretches just looking at one picture, and often to me, they are so not pretty. Talk to me about art and I will nod and go uhhuh until Carrie slides in in front of me, leaving us both feeling resentful and frustrated. If however, the same person would say “hey is Carrie around I want to talk art” I would happy relinquish my place, or if I’m busy say ‘give me a few’ but in the end we would both end up feeling acknowledged, accepted and visible. It seldom happens though. End pissy-rant.

So that’s done

8 July, 2012 in Recovery, Study | 1 comment

It’s an odd thing. I don’t want attention, or any celebration. Hell, the two other students trying to make a big deal about it sent me deep into flashback. But at the same time it feels so anti-climatic. Two years of intense work, a lot of time and energy and, I don’t know it sounds a little corny, but a lot of me went into that work, a lot of personal development and baggage, and then suddenly it all just ends. And it did feel really sudden too. When I got my final draft back from my supervisor I went through it and put little sticky notes on, saying fix this, reference needed, little ? for when I didn’t understand her comment. When I was done it looked bad, there was a lot of things needing attention, and yes that added to the series of freak outs I had over this. But I worked through them, did the right thing, the expected thing and pulled one sticker off at a time. In the end it didn’t take as long as I thought it would, and it didn’t require as much work. Now one part of that was that feeling of just being over it, so a couple of corrections weren’t probably given the time they needed, but so be it. But it felt so sudden, the moment I pulled off the last yellow sticker. One moment it looked like weeks of rewrites, the next it was just under 2 weeks later and I had finished.

So now I get to be all contrary and contradictory. I hated people making a big deal about it. The day I handed it in was horrific because everyone was making a big deal about it. It really was. And I’m still working through the consequences of that. But there’s also this odd feeling of being let down, of it not meaning anything. Now before all you good friends write and say it means something to you, I get that. I can even get that it meant something to the other students, although I don’t think that was as much about me, as about the idea of completion, they weren’t celebrating me per se. I think it comes down to something that’s been featuring quite heavily in my life and thoughts lately, the lacking. I’ve always felt I have lacked in some way. That I didn’t have something that would make me acceptable, lovable, or whatever it was that made people care about other people. I’ve also had a major lack of normal life experiences, the things that teach you how to be. I’ve never had any personal celebrations in my life, never had a birthday, a graduation, any celebration. I’m lacking those experience, and therefore also the understanding and knowledge that comes with them. The idea of a celebration scares me beyond imagining, but at the same time there’s this little kernel that goes, it would have been nice.

Crumble

3 July, 2012 in Recovery, Study, Trauma | 1 comment

So to start there was therapy. A huge mess. I don’t even know where to start, how to start explaining how much of a disaster that was. And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure I even remember a third of it. However, that said, I think we quit. I’m just not sure whether it was a threat of quitting, actual quitting, or jump before we’re pushed quitting. The idea of being without therapy right now scares us. He is our only support. We tried recently to do the ‘on our own’ thing and that proved to be a complete disaster, so I’m not sure how much better it’s going to be this time around. I hate being so needy but I just don’t think I can do it on my own.

Leaving therapy we were distraught and overly emotional. I did consider just going home but that wouldn’t be doing the expected thing, so I started shoving it all down to deal with being a student. Nevermind that our actual studenty student had run off into the far reaches of our internal world and was not willing to consider negotiating a return. But we thought, we can hide in our office, pretend to be productive. The woman we share an office with was away with her kids on school holiday, so we would have the space. Thing was, we got to the office, and not only was she there, but another two students as well. One of them jokingly asked us about our heater, or cold toes or something irrelevant, and instead of being able to do the shut down, smile on demand thing, we crumbled, and fuck, we crumbled dramatically.

There was a lot of hysterical crying, hell even blowing my nose, the thing that usually shuts down the tears didn’t stop it for more than 30 seconds before the next round started. I don’t know what I said, I don’t know how much crap got to the surface. I remember thinking this is going to be it, this is when I out myself as multiple, as a pyschopath’s caged victim. I don’t think we did, maybe, hopefully, but it was damn close.

Then as a distraction from the, I’ve just fucked up my life, overreaction. I agreed to let them help me get it all bond. Seems there was a way to do it here, without having to worry about the cost of getting it done somewhere else. So the plan was to not have to think, to just shut down again. But the trouble was I was already triggered to all hell, and it was just another layer on top, so the usual coping mechanisms just couldn’t cope, they too had crumbled under the pressure. They kept congratulating me, acting like it was a big deal, and exciting thing. I should have been able to cope with that, understand that’s how normal people respond. But I just wanted to start screaming for them to shut up, that she’d hear them. At one point one of the runners took over. Fortunately she’d never been at the university so when she got outside the unusual surroundings threw her enough for someone else to take over.

So we’ve been in and out of flashback ever since. Straddling that line, one foot in the past, with fear and pain and praying to die, and the other in the now, with the fear and trying to be rational, and focused and remind everyone it’s safe. It’s hard to be alone, hard to hold onto reality. I keep thinking she’s right behind me, that there are people that will make me pay. How long can you stay on high alert before your brain just collapses. Of course when I’m with people I worry that I can’t keep up the normal, that it will show. And yeah there’s a part of me that wants to scream, can’t you see, can’t you see what was done to me. Which of course, they can’t.

Bad Day

3 July, 2012 in Just Stuff | 2 comments

Bad bad bad bad day. Christ what a fucking mess.

three day weekend

2 July, 2012 in Study | Permalink

So I woke up this morning and it was too cold and I was too tired so I just curled under the blankets and went back to sleep. An hour and a half later, I woke again and decided to get up. It was still too cold and now way passed time to catch my bus, so I decided to work at home. Of course now I’m up and dressed I realise there is no work here at home to do. There are a couple of things I have on the do-list, but I would need to be down at school for that. I’ll have to go tomorrow, which sucks as usually I just take off home after therapy, but that’s the cost for not getting up early this morning.

So my Masters. I’ve basically finished, the writing is done, we have three copies printed and sitting on the shelf. I need to wait until Thursday so I can afford to get them bound. It isn’t expensive, about $10 a copy. But I don’t have $30 hanging around, so I’ll get it done on payday. It’s going to be a tough week next week then, since it’s $30 for that, and then $30 for my bus pass, but at least this time I’ve got stores in the cupboards so it won’t end in flour and water flatbread for days. So anyway, back to my Masters, next Thursday I’ll get them bound, and hand them into the post-grad woman, and that’s it for me. My supervisor still has to find a second grader for me, but that’s her job, not something I have to be concerned with. When she does and they send off the copies I will have to wait 2-3 months to find out the grade.

Emotionally/mentally about this, I just don’t care. I did care, I got to the point I was losing my grip on being functionally. I had to do what I had to do though, I have to be what is expected of me. So I went into school, I did the edits, I smiled when appropriate and pretended to be a person. It worked, I mean I got the Masters finished, I left the house, everyone thinks I’m fine and together and that’s all that matters. But I just don’t care. One of the people at school said ‘you must feel really good to have gotten it finished’, I wanted to say I don’t give a shit, that I don’t care, but I know that’s not what I’m meant to say, I know what is expected of me, so I nodded and smiled and just stayed shut down.

I need to go find something productive to do, or I’m going to end up playing civV all day and that won’t be good.