Monday, April 27, 2009

I'm late, I'm late!

for a very important date? No. Just generally feeling rushed and stretched and stressed. Thus the lack of posting: no time. However, there is always room for linkage.
http://whenorif.wordpress.com/
I think I have a bit of 'the Crazy', too

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

pop!

I prefer the shimmer of water to any gold, and the sparkles in your eyes to any gemstone.

Monday, April 20, 2009

I let it go, like paper airplanes

[I don't know who this is. I know it's a song, though.]
*Disclaimer: annoyingly emo and angsty post.

Today, I cannot be positive. I should be studying, I have a lot of work to do... but instead I am sitting, invisible, on gchat, lamenting the fact that I can't/won't talk to J. I would like to go visible and start chatting, but I am terrified that he will go not reply and go offline like has happened so many times before, and I don't want to feed into my paranoia. Besides, I don't have anything positive to say. Yes, it's what I'm feeling, but it's also a downer. I don't want anyone else to feel the sapping of energy and vitality that I am experiencing right now. This is a pretty good analogy of how I feel even when we're talking to each other though-- there's a barrier, a sadness that keeps me from really communicating, as much as I'd like to discuss everything and anything. But when it comes down to it? I can't. I clam up. I become the scared little girl from middle school, hiding behind her fat and feeling like nothing in the world could make whoever my attention was focused on like me, so I might as well be stand-offish. I need sleep, and just enough food, and hugs.

I need more meds, but don't have an appointment with the doctor yet.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

[I've] only just begun...

[the Carpenters]
I just spent several minutes writing and then erasing various things in the empty space on Twitter. So many of my tweets these days have been negative or emotional, except for my replies, and I don't think that needs to be out there in that medium. Microblogging is essentially an attention-grabbing/quick update thing, and I don't want consolation, I just want to capture a little bit of what I'm feeling.

*I'd only just begun to get to know (more than a couple of aspects of) J, and it's a strange sensation to feel so much attachment for this person that I can't honestly say that I feel I know. It makes me feel regret for not getting the chance to know him as he was, but I'm also thankful that I got to see what little of him I did, and makes me hopeful for getting to know our future selves (myself as well as him.)

I know, I'm pushing the emo-ness.

And, to push that a little bit farther (I've never been particularly restrained):
*I'm only just beginning to realize my potential-- in both good and bad ways; my potential to do awesome things, and my potential to hurt. I think I'm learning more about myself this year than I ever felt I have before. It's a scary thing.

This takes the cake

I have much I could say. But for right now, I just want to direct your attention to this beautiful post: http://dorothysurrenders.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-weekend-crush_17.html

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Like a real life teddy bear... with a brain

{Q, whilst we were discussing what animal Dr.W should be-- we settled on an Ewok, even though [or maybe because] it's a fictitious creature, because nothing else seemed equally friendly, smart, and cute.}

Today in the computer room (where so much "studying" goes on-- read: gossip and sharing of hilarious youtube videos), the subject of Seth Rogen came up. I, being the entertainment black hole that I am (ie. I know nothing), did not know that he had lost a bunch of weight. Neither, it seems, did M, so we both looked up pictures to see what Q and JP were talking about. They said something about him looking 'almost too skinny' (whatever the hell that means.) Think about this: a few weeks ago, the same people were talking about Eliza Dushku as though she could have stood to lose those 10 pounds or so she allegedly dropped for Dollhouse to look "smoking". Does this not strike anyone else as a bit of a doozy? It's well known that society perceives it to be perfectly all right to be male and overweight (successful, etc.), and when he loses weight (for the Green Hornet movie he's going to make) it's not very long before there's talk of him getting close to being 'too skinny' and that he looked better with some chub. (NB: there are also plenty of other responses saying that he 'looks great now' and even that he could stand to lose a few more.) But overall? He lost a lot of weight, yes, but he's nowhere near the emaciation that is considered standard or even chubby for a woman in the same business. Tina Fey also lost a shitload of weight before she became a big hooha. Now excuse me, but that fucks me off. I really don't get this fetishistic idolization of skeletal, pre-pubescent women. I don't even get it in the depths of my eating disorder-- I never wanted to be like that, I always wanted to be strong and healthy; my body type is just such that the weight that I was aiming for to be that was also to the point on scarily skinny. I have a large frame (on occasion I will jokingly call it Amazonian) and so I will never be a size 0 or even a size 6. But you know what? I am sick of feeling like I need to squeeze into whatever size society deems "acceptable" to be categorized as thin. I am life-sized.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Hey, man, now you're really living

[the Eels]
Feel like rubbish today. It occurred to me that I have not taken my meds in 6 days, without thinking about it-- it also occurred to me that my fucked up mood swings might have something to do with it, so I'm going to take some tonight and try to make an appointment with a doctor to get my prescription refilled, because I really can't afford to do something to the detriment of myself just because I'm bull-headed. I have enough unhealthy shit going down right now.

Right this moment I feel pretty bad about the SJ thing. I feel like I'm exploiting the attention he gives me, and falling into the same shit I played with CD last year. I feel like I'm holding a horrible double standard, and treating him with the same kind of crap that I am always paranoid people are treating me with when I like them more than they like me. That's not fair, and it's not making me like myself any more. Plus, I really should hunker down and focus more on school for these last few weeks, and then I'm in England, and then this summer's going to pretty much be hell.
Speaking of CD, he wrote me a myspace message today, talking about how he's so sad and misses me but he knows that my feelings for him are no longer there (eek. can't bear to tell him they never really were. CD's one of the bigger mistakes I've made in my large repertoire of fuck-ups) and he can resign himself to his fate and move on, but I have to tell him that. I seem to get myself in this situation quite a bit, where this person that I led on for a little bit because I'm a bitch or attention whore or even because I thought I liked them goes gaga and I feel like the worst person in the world but I cannot conjure up emotion that is not there. I can't stand lying, either... I can do it (not sure how convincingly), but I hate it because it makes me hate myself, and I have enough of that without lying. I also hate to hurt people, though, and that seems like it's just going to happen. Doesn't make it easier, though. Fuck.

I was given a meal plan to help me get back on track. Instead, I have been blatantly ignoring it/deviating from it. I am now afraid to write down the things I have been eating and the way I have been feeling in my food diary as I'm supposed to because I'm afraid of being judged by my therapist. Who I tell a fuck-load, but she couldn't handle everything that goes on in my life (well, what do you know? Neither can I, apparently.) I know she's trained for this shit, but I can hear her tone of voice, I see her little mannerisms shift, I know I've made her uncomfortable before and could easily do it again-- this is why I feel like I could be a good psychiatrist, I can read people pretty well.

Actually, I've been thinking about what I want to do medically, and I feel like I'm leaning more away from psychiatry, more toward family care or something a little more broad... I obviously don't know, though. I still have dreams of marrying cognitive therapy with movement therapy and art therapy. SJ said something about trans folks (or anyone that deviates from the norm, really) being afraid to call an ambulance or go to the doctor when they need to, because of the way that they can be received, which totally fucks me over and makes me so incredibly upset and furious with the myopic world view that so many people have. If I could provide any degree of solace in the medical profession for people who are denied their dignity in the usual health care field, I would be honored. Now how to actually go about it is another matter. I can't exactly put that on my personal statement. :P

Also, on applying to med schools and stuff: I'm reminding myself-- especially when I get freaked out about things-- that this is me attempting to follow my dreams. I've come so far already, and I have agency in deciding how and when it goes down. If I really want it, I can achieve it, and get it done well ("Get 'er done!" hehe.) And in the end, if I don't get in this year? There's always next, and maybe I wasn't meant to rush through it.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Angels don't eat fairies, though

[from a silly Sunday comic: prefaced by "fairies have insect wings, and angels have bird wings. Birds eat fairies."]

There feels as though there is very little time to blog, and (with that) very little time to process. I suppose I always feel that though-- a kind of suffocating, overwhelming sense of 'there's something important that I need to be doing' that contributes to my constant denigration of myself. But anyways.

Friday, dancing with SJ again-- First of all, left the house in a heavy thunderstorm, with tornado warnings. On the way out of the door, my mother screamed at me that I was a fucking idiot, as lighting flashed. I lived, obviously. Later, was forbidden (by SJ) from wearing my watch. [for me, this is big. I constantly and compulsively check my watch.] In lieu, I was presented with a pair of purple restraints, which were worn out to MSR. Saw the drag show, danced dirty, then proceeded to the 'cottage'. (Was apparently commented about muchly to SJ.) I have mixed feelings about going out with that sort of marked "ownership", albeit for a short time period-- I know I like to be submissive (oh, yes) and that was a hell of a turn-on, but the loss of some degree of independence, while contributing to the overall submission factor, also irritates me somewhat. I guess I just want to be able to flirt with anyone and everyone that appeals to me(or, as my pattern goes, flirts with me.) [I'm sure I'll get more into this later ] So, the 'cottage'-- real restraints and rope, a spreader bar, just extra-light stuff, except a little bit of choking. (First impression: 'what the fuck??' *ensuing panic*; subsequent impressions: 'well, I can still breathe for the most part' and getting too caught up in coming, then starting to like it.) I made SJ come like crazy, which was gratifying but a little disappointing for me at times because it was often when I was close but not there. Luckily, there were many more gos :P Overall: was fun (very), but I feel kind of off about it, maybe because I'm not crazy about him-- which is not to say that I don't like him, because otherwise I wouldn't be doing this, it's just... well, I'm making comparisons, when I probably shouldn't be. But that's a bit off-topic. I'm getting better at asking things properly, but there are times when I'm a bit too lippy to be classified a Good grrrl... but then, a little bit of naughty just makes things more fun. :P
Saturday morning I drove home, tried to get some work done, then met S, C, and SJ at the cottage again. There was cooking, naked hot-tubbing (S, C, and I. Not sexual, fyi), laughter, and a bit of fumbly-ness on the part of SJ (cute.) It was really nice to get to talk to C more, and S and C's interactions are adorable. Soon after dinner (I cooked! Not up to my usual standards, but my excuse is I'm out of practice. Lots of nutritional yeast made up for what it lacked, though :P) and special cookies, S and C departed for the hot tub again, and SJ and I stayed in on the couch. Later, after some hot tubbing of our own, we retired to the bedroom... this time, there was a little more stuff that I haven't experienced before-- briefly, a flogger and paddle; some frontal spanking... I guess I'm a little filthier than I used to be-- I remember not liking some things when JF did them, but that might have also been because he had no idea about topping (either proper practices or otherwise. Another reason JF and I weren't wonderful together: we're both bottoms.) I liked the vulnerability of it, the power play-- as a bottom, I still felt like I had a lot of power (especially with how many times he came, it was pretty amazing. I guess that's what some of my other lovers must have thought of me :P) Complaints: I couldn't seem to come as well as I usually do. I was certainly turned on, but something wasn't hitting right. That's not to say that I didn't, because I made the properly phrased requests that I knew would get me off, but I would have liked to match him in notching up the orgasms (ha. competitive rubbish.Yes, I know sex isn't all about the orgasm.) So yeah, much fun. Plus, I get the feeling it'll get better as we play some more (as well as venturing into realms yet undiscovered by yours truly.) Part of my hesitation about this all is that I feel like he's getting waaay more into me than I am into him. I don't think that he's under the impression that I'll be exclusive (I should clarify this before I cause trouble, though... not that I anyone in mind) but he started talking about stuff way in the future, and that made me nervous (I don't like to make assumptions and/or promises I can't keep.)
I think my issues with it were also heightened by the aftermath of my usual strong wave of emotion when J called (before going to the cottage Sat night.) Whenever I'm on the phone with him I feel so dumb, like there's so much that I want to say but it all disappears, and then I'm just overcome with the yawning gap in my chest where a bit of my heart feels like it's been ripped out. (Wow, way to go me: I've got the angsty emo drama down-pat-- but we knew that already.)
Also Saturday before returning to the cottage, my mom asked me about whether MSR was a gay bar or not, so I told her, and she reacted weirdly, and said something like "but I thought you were bi", which was really fucked up and made me really upset. I ran away for a bit, and then soon after approached her and asked her what she was talking about. She said that she thinks that I'm very susceptible to my surroundings, and that if I was only going to gay bars all the time, then I wasn't giving myself an "equal opportunity", as well as the same old stuff about it being a hard lifestyle. I acknowledged that sometimes I can be swayed by my surroundings, but I told her that I was going to dance and relax, and it wasn't her choice, or my choice. I kind of wish that I'd said that maybe this was my balancing, my "equal opportunity" if you will, of the years of straight dating JF. At some point, I also remember pointedly asking her if her concern had anything to do with the possibility of not having grandkids by me (she didn't answer.) All in all, her reaction appalled me. For someone so liberal, she's so close-minded when it comes to her daughter... but then, at least I'm able to tell her, I'm so thankful for that.
Today, my eating was fucked up majorly. But hey, that's what Easter is for, right? By all rights, I should have thrown up around twice by now. With my eating habits, I'm really surprised that I'm not so much bigger than I am... I can't even sleep (or am not even attempting to) because I have so much sugar coursing through my veins... it's really gross. More than putting on weight, it's this weird-ass binge cycle, this lack of a grip on self-control, that scares me. I really need to establish my self-trust, and my therapist gave me an eating plan to help that, and instead I fuck it up royally, and I feel that much worse for letting someone else down as well as myself. (But berating myself will only make it worse. Tomorrow is a new day.)



Sunday, April 5, 2009

Mother Nature's sewing machine

[hearts will hold ](Jason Mraz)

Yesterday I received another shocking tsunami wave of emotion, turning the corner into S's driveway to see a car that I thought was J's. I think I'm doing just dandy, and I am, but then these break me down for a little bit and I have to take some time to rebuild my oceanfront walls with some new mortar. I have to admit that last night I cuddled a certain stuffed animal in a manner I haven't cuddled one in years-- I didn't even let go in my sleep like I usually would. Then I woke up, agitated, and wrote a poem for the first time since November 30th (I can't believe it's been that long, that's tragic.) I haven't re-read it again, so I don't know if it's any good or not; I presume it's the usual caliber of the poetry I write when it's been a while (i.e. poor; it takes me a while to get back into the swing of it.) Needless to say, I'm experiencing a bit of tumultuous sensation this morning.


On a completely different note, Friday was a trip. I went dancing with SJ again. One thing I love about doing that is that as of yet I have not changed my clothes from what I was wearing all day (aside from removing layers), there's been no aspect of cultivation of a certain impression. In the past, my dressing up/manipulation of impression management (to be all social anthropology on it) has kind of annoyed me, as it usually does when I feel like I'm changing myself to please others (not that me dressing up is expressly changing anything about myself, since I do that anyway, but if I decide against something I love just to upkeep some impact I believe I'm having with one style, it's not true.) What I mean to say is that I've been dressing myself, from one spectrum to the other, and being accepted (will revisit this.) Anyway, Friday night. As with most of my interactions, there was a teensy bit of awkward to begin with, which-- as the dancing commenced-- soon dissipated. There was a little bit of rope, but only for a minute, and a chain for a quick second too, but nothing like the other night (the prospect itself was pretty exciting, though.) It was still amazingly hot though, especially when I finally figured out that he was packing (oh man. There were a couple of times where we might as well have been fucking in the middle of the dance floor. It felt obscene [and so, obviously, I enjoyed it even more. hehe]) A few times, in between or during dances, the way he said 'fuuuck' or shook himself as if my hotness was too much to take made me play certain things up even more (yes, I am a tease.) Later, as we were saying goodbye, we were both so worked up-- he had me growling-- I was about ready to fuck anywhere, but it was not going to happen. We did make a tentative plan to meet next week, though, when he'll be house-sitting for someone...

Saw S last night, wonderful hugs ensued. As I came home yesterday I realized that I expect people to get tired of me, or that I will always be more enthusiastic about them than them about me. I suppose it's social paranoia that's a hangover from middle school/high school drama, but it seems odd that it's such a strong feeling, though I have plenty of evidence to support the idea that I am a lovable person and an enjoyable one to have around. I keep feeling like any day now they're going to find the "real me"/some reason to not like me, latch on that, and it will all fall into the same familiar pattern of dodging. I recognize that this is a somewhat unfounded fear, but it's interesting to observe.

Also, (unrelated) I have noticed that my appreciation of electronic music increases with proportion to my age. My hypothesis is that happens in many people, but the basis has to be from quite a dislike of electronic-based music (or maybe just what techno I encountered in Italy at ages 6-10) for any comparison to be made.

Another thing of note that occurred yesterday: As I was walking with G&AD and S&C (grouped according to who was holding hands) I acknowledged that sometime in the past I would have been made to feel lonely in that situation. Instead, I felt fine, felt like I didn't desperately need to have anyone to hold hands with right now.
(Later, we all held hands, that was pretty cute.)

Thursday, April 2, 2009

We looked like giants in the back of my grey sub-compact

(Death Cab for Cutie)

JF called me today. That in itself is actually a pretty common occurrence-- we talk quite often. Today, though, it was a little different. He had been out all day in Bath with his uncle, who was taking his friends and loved ones there to thank them for supporting him through the death of his wife this time last year. So JF was in a very contemplative and emotional mood. He said he'd been thinking about all the people that are most important to him, and that's why he called me, and said that he loved me. The call wasn't all emotional outpouring, though, there was also a fair bit of our usual teasing each other and whatnot (at one point he said that even if a hit man came at me with a kalshnikoff, I'd be able to kick his arse if I was armed with a couple of balloons. [I am a wicked balloon-dueler. I'm also pretty adept with a pair of mittens.]) But then he started talking about me coming to London in May, and what's going to happen between us and whether I thought anything would happen. I told him nothing was going to happen, that we are just friends now, and he said that I couldn't rule anything out. I told him (repeatedly) that I didn't know what was going to happen, but it made me very nervous that he expected something from me. While we were talking and afterwards, he made me sad, but now that I think about our conversation more, it just makes me angry.
Angry that the only attributes he ever really talks about missing to me are my pretty face and my ass, never mentioning anything about my intelligence or humour (that 'u' is intentional.) Angry that he didn't listen to me when I said nothing was going to happen, and that he didn't respect that as my decision. Angry that he still seems to think that our relationship was so la-di-da wonderful, when in reality it wasn't healthy for me in the end and I've told him this so many times. Angry that he had the exact reaction that I had predicted when I mentioned that I was going to meet up with JB ("Oh, so you're going to meet up with [JB] and have sex, then, are you?") Angry that he tried to make me feel guilty because we supposedly never had sex when he was cross-dressing (in actuality we did, but we took off the clothes before we actually got down to business, which was the protocol if I dressed up in a corset or anything, too.) The conversation was like a recap of our relationship: starting light-hearted, loving, and joyful; proceeding into misunderstanding, not listening, and frustration; and ending with no closure (and JB thrown in there as well-- how apt.) Most of all, it makes me really sad that he can't just think of me as a friend that he had a history with.
*deep breath*
I was having such a good and/or productive day, as well.
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On the plus side of the day, my brother asked me to be a witness for him and his girlfriend's civil ceremony, so I'm pretty happy about that. I love that they're just having something little and then a crazy-ass party in Italy to celebrate, rather than the big, white rigmarole that my other brother and his wife made us do (all the while treating my mother like poo. Can you tell I'm bitter?) If there was anyone who would ever make me believe in marriage, it's them (not in a religious sense-- I know a large reason they're doing it is the legal benefits as well as showing commitment to each other.)
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I feel weird now, like I've done something wrong. Like I've cheated with JB again, except this time I actually feel guilty.