Messages

Later on in the day now. Home. Currently in the bath.

It is over. I decided to deliver the plushie and sundry to a community food bank we have in our building due to the ICE activity threatening our city, though thankfully they're now leaving soon. Someone will take it and only know a kind gift on behalf of a stranger for Valentine's day. My mother would've scoffed at such acts.

My partner is making jambalaya for dinner. Tomorrow we're going to the Zoo and they're teaching me more advanced photography techniques to help add to my resume of skills.

And, a secret, we got our marriage license yesterday. Not doing a Valentine's wedding or any sort of fancy thing yet either, but we're like, treating the marriage as a government marriage. Socially we aren't yet. Just want my beau on my sweet medical insurance. Yay America.

Keep it on.

Very very bothered today on what should be a nice beginning to Valentine's day weekend. Or, an expected outcome to Friday the 13th perhaps.

I apologize in advanced for my words in this post as I debrief to myself and to you all.

I just received a text from my partner. A package. I haven't ordered anything. I questioned, assuming first it was from some account stuff I've been dealing with for work, blah blah... But then they said where it was from: a company I know of. My body drained of all its blood, that's what it felt like. I knew what it was.

They took a picture of the information and I found it. The phone number listed on the order was not mine. It was my one of parents, and knowing what it was from and who my parents are, I knew it was from my mother. A Valentine's day gift, presumably.

I would love to live my life free of these people! I am DONE with them. And most importantly, PLASTIC JUNK does not heal ANYTHING. It feels as if certain types of people beginning from the boomer generation onward feel as if consumerism and excess is a gift and fine enough an excuse to abuse and berate others. It feels so ingrained in a capitalistic society, in the american consumerism way. We are not religious, but it is as giving a tithe away is an excuse for all the rest of it.

A stupid plastic plushie is not going to soothe my wounds. I wanted a damn mommy. I wanted to hug someone I didn't revile and who loved me for me. Stop sending me trash. Stop sending me anything. I do not want things. I have an OCD tendency to hate things because of you mom, because of our damned hoarder house full of storage for your work. I have illnesses and weakness because of your ignorant choices.

A stupid, stupid plushie doesn't heal anything. In fact, it makes me run harder.

This has been a vent. I have to crisis control my body now and continue to work. Happy Valentine's day.

Totally.

I think of my brain as always on, always thinking about something. Sometimes it's nonsense, sometimes its important. I've been experiencing this a lot at my job recently, where having conversations is awkward because I have to think and concentrate a bit harder.

Directions require not only understanding but then, i don't know, synthesis? You have to listen, understand and then point out the correct direction. Brains know its a direction, but there's only two, so it's easy to switch them up. Meanwhile, ironically, I'm very good at approximating the cardinal directions. North? I have what's essentially a satellite image in my brain of my surroundings, like Google Maps, and can figure it out. But right/left is weird, you have to place yourself. Now that I write it out, maybe it's because I'm a very disassociative person; I don't feel present in my body. Takes longer to figure out positions relative to me!

Glad you like the term! Welcome to this cursed club 

I totally feel this. I feel like a muted person, someone who cannot express emotions. I call it emotionally constipated, though that describes mostly when I know I'm feeling something but it just doesn't come out. I want to feel, but yet...

Depending on one's background, I imagine we get it from being pushed down in our vulnerable days: we showed the wrong emotions and thus learned over time to be more muted. Or maybe its just a manifestation of a remaining sadness or grief, even though times are good.

I do miss the times when I was happy. I at least feel the great relief of sadness and crying sometimes (its so bad to not be able to let that out) but without the polar opposite, its a very dull gray life.

I try to remember the bad things to avoid the guilt. I still just want loving parents sometimes, though.

It's sad, really sad. But that's how it is.
 

Yeah. I love writing and being creative, so I tend to harness the need to be my own parent into actual characters.

...

It has been hard since I live in Minnesota currently, which if you know you know what I mean. There are more present problems than parents. We are safe though! My head (migraines) has been bad recently but I am getting through.

Feeling sad again because my father keeps leaving me voicemails at the holidays, obviously at the order of my mother who now knows I hate her. I just wanted to check on my partner who was at a protest, who left me a voicemail that they were okay and on their way home. Alas, the blocked calls still go to voicemail. I miss my old voice to text voicemails. His voice is so sick and old.

I try to remember the bad things to avoid the guilt. I still just want loving parents sometimes, though.

Our previous place we lived in was definitely garbo and had mold, which I think could've affected my current nasal things that No One can figure out a solution to. Now that we're moved to a very nice place it does feel better. It's also fairly dry in winter up north here.

I'll mention my nasal cavity issues/possible mold as a footnote to the doc!

I constantly analyze my symptoms to try and figure out my issues. I'm used to doing this; I sadly had terrible experiences with just going to the doctor. Turns out there's so many things that we haven't solved yet. And it's no coincidence that they're typically things that mainly affect women and other marginalized groups. 

I've come to observe that my Migraines are likely related to my digestive system/GI issues, which of course developed due to my PTSD in my youth. I used to think having like, IBS attacks were the worst ever. Having them with Migraines now? Now, that's terror.

I noticed that I would get bloated just from drinking water, and I had to use the bathroom with cramps constantly. There's also a possible element of menstrual stuff, which I'm going to discuss with the doctor, but even with that it all seems to be sourced with my GI track. It's a headache of intense pressure everywhere. I also have a TMJ arthritis issue so my right side is so strongly aching.

Today I feel better but its still present, but I can work. After that, I'm free for the rest of the week to rest mostly.

If anything, I think its the physical leftovers of being in my terrible situations as a youth. Its better than when I was a youth and the pain was a constant, but now it feels reduced to a real bad lot of pain once a monthish. I can't imagine the poor souls who get long, long migraines and are chronic.

I imagine the trigger was something I ate a few days ago + the fact I took a break from my constant hormone pills (as directed to by a doctor!) and having a period triggered a huge thing. Which is why I want to discuss like three contributing factors with my doctor ... I have the worst periods and I think it may be endometriosis, but there's also five other issues... The migraines on top... I need to be a stubborn ol' mule and search for answers. I'm quite good at finding them, even though I do know that there's no easy "cure" to nothing.

(Which reminds me, I saw a video the other day about psychologists being asked how many people they've cured, as if that was a gotcha from an anti-psychology grifter. I wish, dude. Not how this all works.)

Thanks for the advice. It is made worse by the fact you can't even have a fun sick day. I wanted to play games last night. Nope! 

I do have non-caffeine migraine meds for the night that seemed to help. And, ironically enough, the source of all my childhood pain had previously sent me a mask that massages you for migraines and it actually helps. I had to research a whole bunch on that to make sure I wasn't going to hurt myself with bunk tech, but it seems okay. I'll still ask the doctor if they recommend it or want me to stop and try something else.

So, TooLong; Didn'tRead: it's a mix of all what you said, I think. Emotional turned into physical residue, and thats the main thing. Or, maybe, the hormones of the horrific entity of the menstrual cycle made me feel horrid, and triggered a migraine. Either way, its a potpourri of garbage stuck in my body, giving me a horrid pressure everywhere.

I get horrid migraines and they're just getting worse sonetimes. I figured I'd see if anyone here had tips or experiences. Migraines are the worst pain imaingable so I figure its good to vent.

Im not going to type very good because migraine. Im going to talk to a doctor next week. Maybe ill detail the horrid weird symptoms i get with them later. Ow!

Hi NK and all, reading this thread made me think of an adjacent situation with my mother. Schrodinger's Jealousy manifested for me as Schrodinger's Self.

My mother often talked about things and misrecalled details I'd mention in passing. My true self, to her, was stuff I'd randomly say or acknowledge. Somehow, My mother's daughter (me; only child) wanted to move to Paris (ew!?), loved octopi, and wanted to raise rabbits. I don't know any parent who would willingly give their child an exotic pet because they went "aw, cute animal!" once in passing, save for if that parent was a stereotypical distant rich parent of a bratty child in a film, lol.

The confusion comes in alongside like, gaslighting, I personally think. It's an adjacent or subcategory, it is! It's how they say "so I know you're so happy!" or "don't be mad" before giving you a chance to actually be a person. It makes you confused, and it creates conflict if you protest. It also makes you feel crazy (gaslighting) because you begin to wonder if you ever did like/do/feel what they're implying. And even if you DID, and now don't feel the same, they denied you the ability to grow and change and present yourself differently (I often had my parents speak for me, telling others what I was or felt...)

In short, no wonder we might all feel like we don't know who we are, what we like, et cetera. We were puppeted like dolls sometimes!

Thank you NK, Teddy and Chart! I do agree. It must be something about my childhood experience that got blocked, and now it is strange trying to feel it now.

I especially agree with your Ancedote NK!

I had to "mature" extremely fast for my life to be somehow tolerable. In with that, my mother was and is very immature. She is like a giant, vindictive toddler and actually is not shy of acknowledging she is childish at times. So for me, the thought of possibly being vulnerable like a child is awful.
[...]
The instant my mother tries to manoeuvre me into a child position, however, I am on full alert. She is not safe, and my child parts are not yet convinced that I am able to protect them.

I relate to this a lot. I would feel repulsed often by my mother, especially when she would verbally whine and get fustrated. Perhaps this is the through-line. I saw her and was fustrated with her for having her life be harder than it needed to be and she refused. I remember many times when I got older that I shut down, became the adult, and then solved her problem to get the sound of that screeching whine to go away. It was textbook!

Additionally, to the second point, I would hate when she was vulnerable with me. I would hate being loved. It was not typical teenager angst. I knew somehow that it was different and worse. It felt fake and wrong.

Yet I am protective of children. I love how many stories there are nowadays of--and I suppose anywhere but here would this be an off color thing to say--genuinely abused children getting happy endings. I learned about the eucatastrophe in University Lit Classes and I identified with it ever since. (Wikipedia explains it perfectly well: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eucatastrophe) I really liked watching the Owl House, a fairly recent Disney TV show, for a character in that. A even younger me would've loved it.

I think that really sums up what I feel too. I like cute things, but I'm also rough. I am hard with a soft interior (though IRL I probably usually appear soft with a very hard interior; some people do think I look scary sometimes... I think its my "RBF")

This is all to say that I'll probably be exploring these feelings through art. I like stories and comics, so I need to draw it out more. I did recently finish an art piece, actually, that depicted a strong emotion using a character I connected with.

Anyways, to end my ramblings (I approve of them; ramble on my threads if you have thoughts!), I do think my feelings reflect my thoughts and experiences with the people I fear and loathe. There were times I was made fun of for liking "weak, childish" things. There were times I was made to feel less by being treated like a baby. Studying Disability Rights and Culture too, I have seen so many instances where certain people are treated a certain way and it feels so dehumanizing to be babied. My mother and other family definitely did that specific stuff in addition to how they treated me. Not to mention how sensitive I was to situations where nothing was being done but could've been done, and the only way to free myself was to grow up.

I want to be treated, rewarded, celebrated, sometimes babied by the ones I truly loved--but I also want to be an adult with my own individuality and changing interests. I am intelligent, and I also happen to like soft things. Then, it is perfectly normal to turn around and like dark things too (I wrote this and recalled a time where my mother got mad at me for drawing a bloody vampire, saying it was too scary. Too bad! My art makes people feel emotions and that's the point sometimes, to feel uncomfy!). I am a human and I am complex.

I have been thinking about this lately, and it obviously often comes up when my mind wanders or I engage with things in life, but basically: I feel a deep... Negative Feeling(?) when I think about childish things.

It's the most vague statement ever so let me try to explain it.

The feeling is like a deep dread, depression, fear, pity, or something else along that through-line. It happens when I imagine something to do with "child-like wonder" or childish activites.

I've discussed it with my Therapist, but, well, we've been preoccupied with other more important things first and haven't really explored it (and it might be helped by other symptoms of my PTSD) but honestly it does bother me a lot. I like cute things. I like children. I like childish things. But when I think about the concept, the manifestation of a child being a child, my heart hurts and I fear it. I want to cry. I am filled with fear. Part of me also imagines an adult acting like a child and I am repulsed somehow, like a magnet. Yet still I am always drawn to these instances.

For example, what sparked this thought now to be brought to the forum is that I was trying to sleep and imagined a scenario. There is a child, wanting to play and talk about childish things. An adult is unable to parse the child and wishes to talk about high-concept adult things. The child merely continues on, as a young kid would, wanting to talk about a cartoon or play with dolls. Imagine if you would a four-panel comic made for humor about the disconnect of adults and children, but it plays in my mind as if it were a bad omen.

I think there's a lot to it. I think I fear breaking down into something people would be repulsed by. I don't do it anymore, but I do recall crying myself to sleep and imagining myself as a helpless young baby, desperately wanting a powerful figure to save me. I have not felt that need in a while, but these thoughts that come into my mind do distress me in a way that's similar. Another aspect is I fear the loss of intelligence, maybe autonomy? I have a lot of background experiences that give me fear of disability, dependency, etc. due to witnessing horribly sad scenarios in my life. Maybe I associate some things I do enjoy with some sort of stereotype, and my body is just unable to connect.

I would like to be more myself, which I think is a combination of cute and vulnerable but also with a love of power and intensity. It almost feels like that latter half has been present throughout my life and refuses to relent a bit. I want to be cutesy and romantic with my partner while wearing my mallgoth outfits! I want to hug a cute Sanrio mascot at the mall with all the other twenty-somethings and not disassociate, crying in the car on the way home because I was not present.

This was a real mind-vomit of words, but I hope maybe it resonates or you have advice?

I suppose my question or discussion topic is: does this sound familiar to you? Do you know anything or have theories about what this could be reflecting?

This reminds me of how it slightly bothers me when the "proper way" to discuss certain events is to discuss "resilience". Resilience feels as much as a corporate buzzword as anything to me now.

When a tragic and traumatizing event happens to a lot of people, I do not feel resilient. I feel tired. I feel positively victimized. I do relate to all that type of language. I am not coping well with big things that have happened to me or the little things.

I feel more a need to be affirmed that it's okay to fail, feel scared and tired, feel lost, and feel little. Anything else feels like impostor syndrome.

Its very okay BigBlue. Thank you for completely understanding how I feel right now.

I feel like it's also some other things compounding and making me feel so bad (I shall discuss with my doctor!) I know I can solve this, but I am also so overwhelmed with what I need to do. I did finally join another forum after I wrote this and they immediately accepted me. I want to make a goal to write a post a day there to build community and new friends. I am too dependent on my partner to go out and interact. They're much better at it than I.

There's so much to do, but I shall do it. I solve things as they come.