anxiety sucks
What a day. Sheesh. So I get a phone call from a woman I used to know. It's been a long time, I forget a lot of it, but I was pretty attached to her. I never could figure out if she liked me or not. She expresses great fondness but actions are so not. I remember being blown off a lot even after a promise. So she called and I was so shocked she bothered to pick up the phone I called back to talk with her and got talked into going over to Jean Marie's house on Friday.
Somehow between now and then I must reconcile all these excess emotional conflicts between wanting and expectation and rejection and anger. Most of all the last must be resolved enough at least to put it away for the evening even if I get stupid during conversation.
I'm going to bring my knitting and what resolve I can manage to find a perch from whence to knit. Maybe I should just bring my own chair for security. Brilliant, yes, and coconut water with rum for myself as well as my little pipe. Sedated just right, I may be able to knit quietly and just mostly nod and smile at people.
They always require you to engage, though. They sit down and start asking questions. Oh it's such a trap for me. In processing the question and formulating an answer my calculating goes all into the language and the subtext and context get erased for me. That then results in my socially inept and self absorbed behaviour as I just sit there trying to keep the patter up. I know no sure way to avoid the question and response that isn't horribly rude and cold. My current efforts involve using what little calculating power I have left to try and remember to formulate a question back at them. If I can formulate them, and fast enough, without veering off polite topics or their subject matter, I'll become a glib conversationalist!
I really thought I was one as a teen. Honestly, I thought I was a delightful conversation partner. I don't know where I got that idea or if it was at all true but life has cleanly disabused me of this notion.
Ok, weeping spell narrowly averted.
So yeah, there's this party friday night. Looks like I'm going. I've made chocolates. ~sigh~ I'm gonna regret this.
Spent the day adding paint to boxes, a little knitting, and reading up on boating. I learned all about hull fouling and anti fouling paints. I found some pages on the laws at sea. Admiralty law is the international convention, and maritime law is the national rule set, of which we'll need to learn 2 ultimately.
Mostly the latter are addendums to the former, so learning admiralty law first makes sense. I don't need to learn it by rote nor all bits of it, but a general understanding matters and there will be phrases worth learning by rote because of how much they'll apply to me. Rote learning is the hardest kind for me, context learning happens well. As a young one, it happened as fluidly as my blood moves in my veins but as I age I find I have to concentrate more, get tired eventually, and retain less at a given time. I'm breaking down my chewing instead of just reading from start to finish as fast as I can find the reading time. Is it age? Nutritional deficiency? Excess data storage on board? what makes a brain do it's thing less effectively over time? Combination of all of the above? Hormone and general chemical imbalances too, aside from nutritional deficiency. I really do need to learn to enjoy sea food, to fillet it, etc. But then seafood here on the prairie is pretty crappy really. Just like the fruit. It's always been on the road a minimum of 2 days and this doesn't include any time spent moving around in warehouses changing hands, shifting trucks. that can add another two or three days so even BC sea food is four to six days old even when "fresh." Same thing with fruit which is generally purchased unripe and hit with a ripening gas to get it ready in time for the store.
So yeah, eating here isn't the best and this isn't a good place to get good food. Maybe that's why there's so many cases of dementia and mental illness on the plains here.
Two more boxes themed and worked on today so I've got a watermelon and a rainbow, bringing me to 10 overall boxes for the etsy store. I have one blank left so I may need to print some more soon. or pause and wait for a sale? I dunno. I think the more there are, the more attractive they'll get. So maybe I should keep going awhile yet. 18 would be a nice number. I'm still enjoying them. I haven't done anything with my butterfly wings yet. I'm waiting to be in the right frame of mind for dismembering corpses. It may only be bugs but if I'm too sensitive it's too much anyway.
I wish people would quit dissing me on being sensitive. I'm sorry I get to crying in front of you and I wish you would a: let me tough enough to cope and b: be polite enough in your speech not to start it in the first place.
I mean really, it's always some kind of stupid correctiveness or nastiness from the other person that starts it. Maybe they are responding to how I fail to converse correctly, but that doesn't excuse deliberate cruel intentions. Whatever insult I am offering is unintended and innocent and a kind tone is enough to express with me what you need. You don't have to sit silent and simmering and then lash out with some back handed comment or insult or inside joke at my expense.
I'll figure it out later, yep. I will, and I'll forgive you but it'll hurt. Actually, I've quit forgiving, come to think of it. I always did, and they just came back and did it again and laughed off any attempt on my part to communicate the issue. These days I just put their number on block in my phone and cast them from my life. I do so without much hesitation too. I don't care. There's nothing in it for me so why invest myself? I've learned that much anyway. These people aren't do a thing for me.
I can't remember now, but I know Maureen was incredibly generous with me. So I can't say that of everyone but I also know that JM has been pretty asinine with me over the years. He's tried to apologize, though, come to think, and if Mo tells him what I told her about his recent visit, I guess I'll have to deal with that too.
~sigh~ This is what comes of simply wanting to see this woman and test my theories and this is the crap I've got to work through in the next 48 or so hours. I find if I cry over it enough in private I'll get numb to it before I have to cope with it in front of others. I cry very easily.
it's when I was a kid, I was a stubborn thing and didn't listen well. Well, what 4 year old does anyway? I was fascinated by spinning things (autism!) and played with the wagon wheel decorating our well cover. It was a fake wishing well over the real well, life size and quite nice, with a wagon wheel screwed on to a hub. It spun and I was spinning and spinning till it unscrewed and hit me right on my head. Mom was quite emotional as she poured from the shower handle onto my hair and blood flowed down the drain. I only knew the noise that was my animal brain screeching as a child will, and the thunderous dullness of the wound's pain being attacked by endorphins.
Years later while studying biology I ran across a text explaining the power of the areas of the brain. "For instance," the article declared, "an lesion in the <redacted by memory failure> area of the brain can cause a patient to cry excessively, uncontrollably and frequently, often inappropriately." Well I can't recall the "sulcus" in question but the knowing was fresh at the time and I knew the areas of the brain well enough. My wheel scar matched the location so perfectly I could have been a text book case. Sudden clarity flooded in as I realized it was this time frame during which the world started hating me bitterly. Or seeming to. I also found myself crying when I most assuredly did not want to and no matter how much advice I took unable to stem the flow once begun. I'd have to be a monk in meditation to find the level of calm required to assure I don't cry.
I so don't want to deal with Friday. I'm so going to drink up some extra whisky at home. With the right combo of THC and Alcohol I get practically taciturn. I just smile and nod a lot but can't be bothered to unstick my tongue. Dry mouth helps with that.
Somehow between now and then I must reconcile all these excess emotional conflicts between wanting and expectation and rejection and anger. Most of all the last must be resolved enough at least to put it away for the evening even if I get stupid during conversation.
I'm going to bring my knitting and what resolve I can manage to find a perch from whence to knit. Maybe I should just bring my own chair for security. Brilliant, yes, and coconut water with rum for myself as well as my little pipe. Sedated just right, I may be able to knit quietly and just mostly nod and smile at people.
They always require you to engage, though. They sit down and start asking questions. Oh it's such a trap for me. In processing the question and formulating an answer my calculating goes all into the language and the subtext and context get erased for me. That then results in my socially inept and self absorbed behaviour as I just sit there trying to keep the patter up. I know no sure way to avoid the question and response that isn't horribly rude and cold. My current efforts involve using what little calculating power I have left to try and remember to formulate a question back at them. If I can formulate them, and fast enough, without veering off polite topics or their subject matter, I'll become a glib conversationalist!
I really thought I was one as a teen. Honestly, I thought I was a delightful conversation partner. I don't know where I got that idea or if it was at all true but life has cleanly disabused me of this notion.
Ok, weeping spell narrowly averted.
So yeah, there's this party friday night. Looks like I'm going. I've made chocolates. ~sigh~ I'm gonna regret this.
Spent the day adding paint to boxes, a little knitting, and reading up on boating. I learned all about hull fouling and anti fouling paints. I found some pages on the laws at sea. Admiralty law is the international convention, and maritime law is the national rule set, of which we'll need to learn 2 ultimately.
Mostly the latter are addendums to the former, so learning admiralty law first makes sense. I don't need to learn it by rote nor all bits of it, but a general understanding matters and there will be phrases worth learning by rote because of how much they'll apply to me. Rote learning is the hardest kind for me, context learning happens well. As a young one, it happened as fluidly as my blood moves in my veins but as I age I find I have to concentrate more, get tired eventually, and retain less at a given time. I'm breaking down my chewing instead of just reading from start to finish as fast as I can find the reading time. Is it age? Nutritional deficiency? Excess data storage on board? what makes a brain do it's thing less effectively over time? Combination of all of the above? Hormone and general chemical imbalances too, aside from nutritional deficiency. I really do need to learn to enjoy sea food, to fillet it, etc. But then seafood here on the prairie is pretty crappy really. Just like the fruit. It's always been on the road a minimum of 2 days and this doesn't include any time spent moving around in warehouses changing hands, shifting trucks. that can add another two or three days so even BC sea food is four to six days old even when "fresh." Same thing with fruit which is generally purchased unripe and hit with a ripening gas to get it ready in time for the store.
So yeah, eating here isn't the best and this isn't a good place to get good food. Maybe that's why there's so many cases of dementia and mental illness on the plains here.
Two more boxes themed and worked on today so I've got a watermelon and a rainbow, bringing me to 10 overall boxes for the etsy store. I have one blank left so I may need to print some more soon. or pause and wait for a sale? I dunno. I think the more there are, the more attractive they'll get. So maybe I should keep going awhile yet. 18 would be a nice number. I'm still enjoying them. I haven't done anything with my butterfly wings yet. I'm waiting to be in the right frame of mind for dismembering corpses. It may only be bugs but if I'm too sensitive it's too much anyway.
I wish people would quit dissing me on being sensitive. I'm sorry I get to crying in front of you and I wish you would a: let me tough enough to cope and b: be polite enough in your speech not to start it in the first place.
I mean really, it's always some kind of stupid correctiveness or nastiness from the other person that starts it. Maybe they are responding to how I fail to converse correctly, but that doesn't excuse deliberate cruel intentions. Whatever insult I am offering is unintended and innocent and a kind tone is enough to express with me what you need. You don't have to sit silent and simmering and then lash out with some back handed comment or insult or inside joke at my expense.
I'll figure it out later, yep. I will, and I'll forgive you but it'll hurt. Actually, I've quit forgiving, come to think of it. I always did, and they just came back and did it again and laughed off any attempt on my part to communicate the issue. These days I just put their number on block in my phone and cast them from my life. I do so without much hesitation too. I don't care. There's nothing in it for me so why invest myself? I've learned that much anyway. These people aren't do a thing for me.
I can't remember now, but I know Maureen was incredibly generous with me. So I can't say that of everyone but I also know that JM has been pretty asinine with me over the years. He's tried to apologize, though, come to think, and if Mo tells him what I told her about his recent visit, I guess I'll have to deal with that too.
~sigh~ This is what comes of simply wanting to see this woman and test my theories and this is the crap I've got to work through in the next 48 or so hours. I find if I cry over it enough in private I'll get numb to it before I have to cope with it in front of others. I cry very easily.
it's when I was a kid, I was a stubborn thing and didn't listen well. Well, what 4 year old does anyway? I was fascinated by spinning things (autism!) and played with the wagon wheel decorating our well cover. It was a fake wishing well over the real well, life size and quite nice, with a wagon wheel screwed on to a hub. It spun and I was spinning and spinning till it unscrewed and hit me right on my head. Mom was quite emotional as she poured from the shower handle onto my hair and blood flowed down the drain. I only knew the noise that was my animal brain screeching as a child will, and the thunderous dullness of the wound's pain being attacked by endorphins.
Years later while studying biology I ran across a text explaining the power of the areas of the brain. "For instance," the article declared, "an lesion in the <redacted by memory failure> area of the brain can cause a patient to cry excessively, uncontrollably and frequently, often inappropriately." Well I can't recall the "sulcus" in question but the knowing was fresh at the time and I knew the areas of the brain well enough. My wheel scar matched the location so perfectly I could have been a text book case. Sudden clarity flooded in as I realized it was this time frame during which the world started hating me bitterly. Or seeming to. I also found myself crying when I most assuredly did not want to and no matter how much advice I took unable to stem the flow once begun. I'd have to be a monk in meditation to find the level of calm required to assure I don't cry.
I so don't want to deal with Friday. I'm so going to drink up some extra whisky at home. With the right combo of THC and Alcohol I get practically taciturn. I just smile and nod a lot but can't be bothered to unstick my tongue. Dry mouth helps with that.