I just reread the "Speechless" post, and it fished up the bucket of things I want to try.
Augh, I'm not actually patient...I just get distracted sometimes. And then when I realize that that thing I wanted to try so long ago hasn't happened yet, it's intensely annoying, and I feel like I'm slogging through mud.
What does it take to try something new? I'm so easily bored. There are so many things in the bucket that can quench that problem before it really becomes a problem, and yet it always has to become one before we can go fishing.
I'm working on the patience. Really, I am. But when enough time has gone by, it's not patience - it's giving up.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Defining Boundaries
The moving part is finished, and the adjusting part is now in full swing. I'm operating in my new part-time schedule, doing two twenty-hour days a week at my old job and three days a week at my own business (which was supposed to be just art, but has ended up including a lot of time devoted to league business, as well).
The first week in my new home, I had a lot of little moments where I would pause suddenly at the start of a task execution, imagining a spinning progress bar over my head and the word "Recalibrating..." That has mostly subsided, and now I'm dealing with another set of change impacts, those of seeing the people I know in very different allotments of time, and not having nearly as much control over my own surroundings.
I came home last week from practice expecting to find Aiden and Shelby playing games with a pair of their friends, but the friends had gone home early. The change was unexpected, and though I recognized it as neither my problem nor a big deal, I still felt disgruntled at not having found what I had expected to find in my own home. Last night, a similar thing happened, in which I came home from a class expecting to find Aiden preparing dinner for Shelby, her friend Posie, and his and Posie's kids. When I got there, everyone was pretty much done with dinner, and Posie's husband was also hanging out.
Again, I recognized it consciously as not being a problem, but couldn't help feeling put out. I did realize eventually that making the kids wait until 8:30 for dinner was maybe not the best plan and managed not to take it personally. After the guests went home, Aiden still hadn't so much as touched me, and I pointed it out. He said he had tried to hug me when I walked in the door, but I had seemed grumpy and not wanting to be touched, so he just handed me food and sat back down. I didn't remember that interaction.
This conversation continued for a few more minutes, and then there was silence. In which Aiden still had not actually touched me. My primary love language is physical touch, so avoiding touching me is something I tend to read as very insulting.
"This is your opportunity to fix this," I finally said, smacking him lightly on the side of the head a few times, "And you're missing it."
"Don't hit me in the head," he said, turning to look me full in the face. I paused. There was an intensity to his voice that surprised me.
"Really," I finally said. "What are you going to do?" Some part of me wanted to know, but the part controlling my hands decided it was a bad idea.
"Just. Don't," he said. He wasn't yelling, and he wasn't quite angry, but I honestly didn't know what might happen if I pushed. I desperately wanted to find out, but for just a moment, I was afraid.
We stared each other down for several breaths, until Shelby said, "You know what that makes me want to do?" and I started laughing.
He caught me alone a few minutes later and gave me a long kiss.
"I apologize for hitting you in the head," I said. "I'm sorry."
"And I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear that I wanted to hug you," he replied. I appreciated the apology, but I was excited about something else.
"Thank you for showing me a boundary," I said. "It's good to know where those are."
"Usually you approach them but back away," he said. "And I don't see a point in snapping at someone for just 'tap-tapping' on the wall."
"But sometimes that's what I'm looking for," I said. "I want to know in no uncertain terms that that's where I am."
Thinking about it again later, the more succinct explanation is that if I back away from a boundary before he's shown me where it is, it feels like he's willing to take more disrespect than I'm willing to dish. And that leads to further disrespect. But it would be pretty easy for him to push the balance back.
Have I mentioned he's hot when he's angry with me...?
The first week in my new home, I had a lot of little moments where I would pause suddenly at the start of a task execution, imagining a spinning progress bar over my head and the word "Recalibrating..." That has mostly subsided, and now I'm dealing with another set of change impacts, those of seeing the people I know in very different allotments of time, and not having nearly as much control over my own surroundings.
I came home last week from practice expecting to find Aiden and Shelby playing games with a pair of their friends, but the friends had gone home early. The change was unexpected, and though I recognized it as neither my problem nor a big deal, I still felt disgruntled at not having found what I had expected to find in my own home. Last night, a similar thing happened, in which I came home from a class expecting to find Aiden preparing dinner for Shelby, her friend Posie, and his and Posie's kids. When I got there, everyone was pretty much done with dinner, and Posie's husband was also hanging out.
Again, I recognized it consciously as not being a problem, but couldn't help feeling put out. I did realize eventually that making the kids wait until 8:30 for dinner was maybe not the best plan and managed not to take it personally. After the guests went home, Aiden still hadn't so much as touched me, and I pointed it out. He said he had tried to hug me when I walked in the door, but I had seemed grumpy and not wanting to be touched, so he just handed me food and sat back down. I didn't remember that interaction.
This conversation continued for a few more minutes, and then there was silence. In which Aiden still had not actually touched me. My primary love language is physical touch, so avoiding touching me is something I tend to read as very insulting.
"This is your opportunity to fix this," I finally said, smacking him lightly on the side of the head a few times, "And you're missing it."
"Don't hit me in the head," he said, turning to look me full in the face. I paused. There was an intensity to his voice that surprised me.
"Really," I finally said. "What are you going to do?" Some part of me wanted to know, but the part controlling my hands decided it was a bad idea.
"Just. Don't," he said. He wasn't yelling, and he wasn't quite angry, but I honestly didn't know what might happen if I pushed. I desperately wanted to find out, but for just a moment, I was afraid.
We stared each other down for several breaths, until Shelby said, "You know what that makes me want to do?" and I started laughing.
He caught me alone a few minutes later and gave me a long kiss.
"I apologize for hitting you in the head," I said. "I'm sorry."
"And I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear that I wanted to hug you," he replied. I appreciated the apology, but I was excited about something else.
"Thank you for showing me a boundary," I said. "It's good to know where those are."
"Usually you approach them but back away," he said. "And I don't see a point in snapping at someone for just 'tap-tapping' on the wall."
"But sometimes that's what I'm looking for," I said. "I want to know in no uncertain terms that that's where I am."
Thinking about it again later, the more succinct explanation is that if I back away from a boundary before he's shown me where it is, it feels like he's willing to take more disrespect than I'm willing to dish. And that leads to further disrespect. But it would be pretty easy for him to push the balance back.
Have I mentioned he's hot when he's angry with me...?
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Moving Day Approaches
I move this weekend.
Two more days to go. It's really happening. Tomorrow night, Aiden and Shelby are coming up after work. We're going to do dinner, pack his car full of my things, and then spend one last night in my apartment.
Saturday morning, Aiden will drive south to pick up his kid and take the first carload of my things home, Eben will come over to my place, and Shelby, Eben, my roommate, and I, and possibly Bruce, will pack up the rest of my life and empty out the place I've been for the last two years.
It almost doesn't feel like it's been that long. But it has. Twenty-five months, to be exact. I moved in on February 1st, 2013, and I'll be out on February 28th, 2015. I'm not sorry to see the back of the stupid freezing-pipes problem, but otherwise, I'll miss it here.
This is not a cold-feet thing. I want to be in my new home slightly more than I want to stay in this one, but that doesn't mean I'm excited to leave here. This town is wonderful. Lots of my friends are here. My apartment is great (aside from the pipes).
But it's time. Sometimes, it is just time.
Two more days to go. It's really happening. Tomorrow night, Aiden and Shelby are coming up after work. We're going to do dinner, pack his car full of my things, and then spend one last night in my apartment.
Saturday morning, Aiden will drive south to pick up his kid and take the first carload of my things home, Eben will come over to my place, and Shelby, Eben, my roommate, and I, and possibly Bruce, will pack up the rest of my life and empty out the place I've been for the last two years.
It almost doesn't feel like it's been that long. But it has. Twenty-five months, to be exact. I moved in on February 1st, 2013, and I'll be out on February 28th, 2015. I'm not sorry to see the back of the stupid freezing-pipes problem, but otherwise, I'll miss it here.
This is not a cold-feet thing. I want to be in my new home slightly more than I want to stay in this one, but that doesn't mean I'm excited to leave here. This town is wonderful. Lots of my friends are here. My apartment is great (aside from the pipes).
But it's time. Sometimes, it is just time.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Forty Reflections on 2014
1.What one event, big or small, are you going to tell your grandchildren about?
Playing my first tournament with my amazing team
2.If you had to describe your 2014 in 3 words, what would they be?
Exciting, loving, impatient
3.What new things did you discover about yourself?
Not only a skill at, but actually an enjoyment of helping to solve interpersonal problems
4.What single achievement are you most proud of?
My first Most Valuable Jammer award
5.What was the best news you received?
Nothing sticks out in my mind.
6.What was your favourite place that you visited in 2014?
Maine
7.Which of your personal qualities turned out to be the most helpful this year?
Diplomacy
8.Who was your number one go-to person that you could always rely on?
A combination of Eben and Aiden
9.Which new skills did you learn?
Dealing with other people's anger and my own emotions - thanks to Shelby
10.What, or who, are you most thankful for?
I couldn't pick just one. My family, my friends, my teammates...
11.If someone wrote a book about your life in 2014, what kind of genre would it be? A comedy, love story, drama, film noir or something else?
An uplifting love story/drama with comedic moments
12.What was the most important lesson you learnt in 2014?
That being honest and straightforward, even to the point of being blunt, is the most effective way forward.
13.Which mental block(s) did you overcome?
Speaking my mind - I'm still working on it, but I've made a lot of progress.
14.What 5 people did you most enjoy spending time with?
Aiden, Eben, Mom, Ninja, Alejandra
15.What was your biggest break-through moment career-wise?
Deciding to quit my job and move on to greener pastures
16.How did your relationship to your family evolve?
I've become much closer to my mom, through learning she had cancer and seeing her through chemo. I'm unsure where my relations with my sisters stand, since they agreed to pay the legal bills they caused me to incur but our only communications have been through lawyers.
17.What book or movie affected your life in a profound way?
Year of No Sugar
18.What was your favourite compliment that you received this year?
Possibly one from the tournament, when my coach told me I had really come together as a blocker.
19.What little things did you most enjoy during your day-to-day life?
The outdoors, long pun trains, tubing on the river, trying new foods, the swing set in the park
20.What cool things did you create this year?
Logo art for fire camp
21.What was your most common mental state this year (e.g. excited, curious, stressed)?
Probably excitement. I get excited about a lot of things.
22.Was there anything you did for the very first time in your life this year?
I climbed a radio tower to 160 feet and didn't have to change my pants afterward.
23.What was your favourite moment spent with your friends?
Any of the multiple parties thrown by myself and my roommate, or any of the crazy bout/tournament days.
24.What major goal did you lay the foundations for?
Changing my career to become a self-employed artist
25.Which worries turned out to be completely unnecessary?
I'm not yet convinced that they are unnecessary.
26.What experience would you love to do all over again?
The tournament. Either of the trips to Maine. Aiden and Shelby's first derby bout, where I got my first MVJ
27.What was the best gift you received?
A beautiful leather flogger that Aiden made himself
28.How did your overall outlook on life evolve?
I've become more decisive. I'm not the only one who looks for a leader, and sometimes it's best that I be that for others.
29.What was the biggest problem you solved?
Getting away from a league that wasn't fulfilling for its skaters. Realizing that some relationship problems that I used to live with should not be overlooked, through the process of finding a relationship that is so much better.
30.What was the funniest moment of your year, one that still makes it hard not to burst out laughing when you think about it?
Sinking Aiden in the river by mistake while trying to re-inflate his inner tube. He called me the Deflating Cat.
31.What purchase turned out to be the best decision ever?
My new skate boots, which actually fit
32.What one thing would you do differently and why?
If I did something differently, I wouldn't learn the lesson, so I don't think I would change anything.
33.What do you deserve a pat on the back for?
Conquering my fear of heights
34.What activities made you lose track of time?
Drawing. Tubing the river. Sex. Swinging in the park. Playing bouts.
35.What did you think about more than anything else?
Relationships
36.What topics did you most enjoy learning about?
Exercise, food
37.What new habits did you cultivate?
Drinking coffee and tea without sweetener
38.What advice would you give your early-2014 self if you could?
Relax.
39.Did any parts of your self or your life do a complete 180 this year?
No
40.What or who had the biggest positive impact on your life this year?
Aiden
Playing my first tournament with my amazing team
2.If you had to describe your 2014 in 3 words, what would they be?
Exciting, loving, impatient
3.What new things did you discover about yourself?
Not only a skill at, but actually an enjoyment of helping to solve interpersonal problems
4.What single achievement are you most proud of?
My first Most Valuable Jammer award
5.What was the best news you received?
Nothing sticks out in my mind.
6.What was your favourite place that you visited in 2014?
Maine
7.Which of your personal qualities turned out to be the most helpful this year?
Diplomacy
8.Who was your number one go-to person that you could always rely on?
A combination of Eben and Aiden
9.Which new skills did you learn?
Dealing with other people's anger and my own emotions - thanks to Shelby
10.What, or who, are you most thankful for?
I couldn't pick just one. My family, my friends, my teammates...
11.If someone wrote a book about your life in 2014, what kind of genre would it be? A comedy, love story, drama, film noir or something else?
An uplifting love story/drama with comedic moments
12.What was the most important lesson you learnt in 2014?
That being honest and straightforward, even to the point of being blunt, is the most effective way forward.
13.Which mental block(s) did you overcome?
Speaking my mind - I'm still working on it, but I've made a lot of progress.
14.What 5 people did you most enjoy spending time with?
Aiden, Eben, Mom, Ninja, Alejandra
15.What was your biggest break-through moment career-wise?
Deciding to quit my job and move on to greener pastures
16.How did your relationship to your family evolve?
I've become much closer to my mom, through learning she had cancer and seeing her through chemo. I'm unsure where my relations with my sisters stand, since they agreed to pay the legal bills they caused me to incur but our only communications have been through lawyers.
17.What book or movie affected your life in a profound way?
Year of No Sugar
18.What was your favourite compliment that you received this year?
Possibly one from the tournament, when my coach told me I had really come together as a blocker.
19.What little things did you most enjoy during your day-to-day life?
The outdoors, long pun trains, tubing on the river, trying new foods, the swing set in the park
20.What cool things did you create this year?
Logo art for fire camp
21.What was your most common mental state this year (e.g. excited, curious, stressed)?
Probably excitement. I get excited about a lot of things.
22.Was there anything you did for the very first time in your life this year?
I climbed a radio tower to 160 feet and didn't have to change my pants afterward.
23.What was your favourite moment spent with your friends?
Any of the multiple parties thrown by myself and my roommate, or any of the crazy bout/tournament days.
24.What major goal did you lay the foundations for?
Changing my career to become a self-employed artist
25.Which worries turned out to be completely unnecessary?
I'm not yet convinced that they are unnecessary.
26.What experience would you love to do all over again?
The tournament. Either of the trips to Maine. Aiden and Shelby's first derby bout, where I got my first MVJ
27.What was the best gift you received?
A beautiful leather flogger that Aiden made himself
28.How did your overall outlook on life evolve?
I've become more decisive. I'm not the only one who looks for a leader, and sometimes it's best that I be that for others.
29.What was the biggest problem you solved?
Getting away from a league that wasn't fulfilling for its skaters. Realizing that some relationship problems that I used to live with should not be overlooked, through the process of finding a relationship that is so much better.
30.What was the funniest moment of your year, one that still makes it hard not to burst out laughing when you think about it?
Sinking Aiden in the river by mistake while trying to re-inflate his inner tube. He called me the Deflating Cat.
31.What purchase turned out to be the best decision ever?
My new skate boots, which actually fit
32.What one thing would you do differently and why?
If I did something differently, I wouldn't learn the lesson, so I don't think I would change anything.
33.What do you deserve a pat on the back for?
Conquering my fear of heights
34.What activities made you lose track of time?
Drawing. Tubing the river. Sex. Swinging in the park. Playing bouts.
35.What did you think about more than anything else?
Relationships
36.What topics did you most enjoy learning about?
Exercise, food
37.What new habits did you cultivate?
Drinking coffee and tea without sweetener
38.What advice would you give your early-2014 self if you could?
Relax.
39.Did any parts of your self or your life do a complete 180 this year?
No
40.What or who had the biggest positive impact on your life this year?
Aiden
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Speechless, Monster
Any person that one encounters is actually two people: the person they are, and the person you think they are. I've never experienced such an intense dichotomy between those two with anyone else as I have with Aiden. He has existed as at least two people in my head alone...and then, of course, there's the real boy.
Way back when, there was the boy I fell unexpectedly head over heels for. In comparison to how I know him now, I didn't know him very well. Then I had enough of the way that things were working - or more accurately, not working - and put myself back in the magician's hat and disappeared. I convinced myself that he was a terrible person and wasted a lot of energy balancing that house of cards.
Then that house crumbled and we rediscovered each other...but this is all old news. I'm not rehashing merely to rehash, as entertaining as storytelling is. I'm still reconciling. I'm staring at a photograph that has been exposed not just twice but many times.
Having that many images stacked in my head of one single person can be confusing. I don't have too much trouble separating the nasty image I built of him when we were apart from the person that he actually is; that image served a purpose, but it was false, and it exists now only as a distant memory.
But then there are the grey areas. Even in the dark days, I occasionally threw things in the bucket that weren't entirely negative. Now I don't know what to do with them.
I'm powered by music. Aiden described it as having music woven into the fabric of my life, and that feels pretty accurate. I'm a musician and a singer and a dancer, and music has a more direct path to my feelings than any other passion. Every period of my life has at least one associated album. I've got music for seasons, music for activities, music for past events, music for friends and family and enemies. Needless to say, Aiden has quite a lot of music.
What brought all this up was playing an album tonight that I hadn't listened to since more than a year ago. (It's been a year now, as of December 8th...hard to believe, in a lot of ways.) I listened to these songs while drawing and while working, and they have associations with certain pieces of art and a certain school-bus yard in winter...but even more strongly than that, somehow I associated them with Aiden.
My first reflex is to claim that I have no idea why that happened. It was February of 2011; we hadn't spoken in nearly two years. If his name were mentioned to me, I probably would've had something unkind to say.
And yet, I put a passionate image of him into the music...not an outright sexual fantasy, but something that wasn't overwhelmed with stupid hate. The association was strong enough to have lasted this long without losing much intensity. I believe it was because there wasn't much passion in my life at the time, and when the music created a need in me to feel a memory that fiery and intense, I reached for the last one I had, and it was Aiden.
Why is it worth discussing? Because I'm reaching for it still. Fantasizing from that distance had an underlying assumption of truth, that if there was ever again a reality between Aiden and I, at least some of it would look like that. The reality recurred but the fantasy didn't.
I've never struggled so much with explaining the hook of music and its associations in my soul. Sometimes I send Aiden songs that I like, and he listens to them and shares his thoughts. Some of those songs are just things I hear on the radio that amuse me, and his response is sufficient, and life moves on. But some of them mean much more to me than that, and the first time that I was bitterly disappointed by his response of, "I dig it," I was blindsided. The response was positive...and yet I wanted to yell that he didn't get it. I don't care if you 'dig' it. These are not bumpin' beats to jive to. This is me telling you something important...
This has happened enough times now that I've become reluctant to share the songs that mean the most to me, because I don't want to hear the reaction. I know he intends the things he says positively, and yet I hear them as dismissive.
I still want to express it. But I don't know how to share what's there without being able to magically project an image from my brain. I've gotten some satisfaction on that front from dancing with him, to music that I associated with the dark days. It's the closest I've come. I wonder occasionally if sex to music would help, and then I consistently forget to ever make that happen. This isn't a fantasy that can become reality through simple explanation. This is a room in which I desperately want company, but where I cannot figure out how to make a door through which others can enter.
Way back when, there was the boy I fell unexpectedly head over heels for. In comparison to how I know him now, I didn't know him very well. Then I had enough of the way that things were working - or more accurately, not working - and put myself back in the magician's hat and disappeared. I convinced myself that he was a terrible person and wasted a lot of energy balancing that house of cards.
Then that house crumbled and we rediscovered each other...but this is all old news. I'm not rehashing merely to rehash, as entertaining as storytelling is. I'm still reconciling. I'm staring at a photograph that has been exposed not just twice but many times.
Having that many images stacked in my head of one single person can be confusing. I don't have too much trouble separating the nasty image I built of him when we were apart from the person that he actually is; that image served a purpose, but it was false, and it exists now only as a distant memory.
But then there are the grey areas. Even in the dark days, I occasionally threw things in the bucket that weren't entirely negative. Now I don't know what to do with them.
I'm powered by music. Aiden described it as having music woven into the fabric of my life, and that feels pretty accurate. I'm a musician and a singer and a dancer, and music has a more direct path to my feelings than any other passion. Every period of my life has at least one associated album. I've got music for seasons, music for activities, music for past events, music for friends and family and enemies. Needless to say, Aiden has quite a lot of music.
What brought all this up was playing an album tonight that I hadn't listened to since more than a year ago. (It's been a year now, as of December 8th...hard to believe, in a lot of ways.) I listened to these songs while drawing and while working, and they have associations with certain pieces of art and a certain school-bus yard in winter...but even more strongly than that, somehow I associated them with Aiden.
My first reflex is to claim that I have no idea why that happened. It was February of 2011; we hadn't spoken in nearly two years. If his name were mentioned to me, I probably would've had something unkind to say.
And yet, I put a passionate image of him into the music...not an outright sexual fantasy, but something that wasn't overwhelmed with stupid hate. The association was strong enough to have lasted this long without losing much intensity. I believe it was because there wasn't much passion in my life at the time, and when the music created a need in me to feel a memory that fiery and intense, I reached for the last one I had, and it was Aiden.
Why is it worth discussing? Because I'm reaching for it still. Fantasizing from that distance had an underlying assumption of truth, that if there was ever again a reality between Aiden and I, at least some of it would look like that. The reality recurred but the fantasy didn't.
I've never struggled so much with explaining the hook of music and its associations in my soul. Sometimes I send Aiden songs that I like, and he listens to them and shares his thoughts. Some of those songs are just things I hear on the radio that amuse me, and his response is sufficient, and life moves on. But some of them mean much more to me than that, and the first time that I was bitterly disappointed by his response of, "I dig it," I was blindsided. The response was positive...and yet I wanted to yell that he didn't get it. I don't care if you 'dig' it. These are not bumpin' beats to jive to. This is me telling you something important...
This has happened enough times now that I've become reluctant to share the songs that mean the most to me, because I don't want to hear the reaction. I know he intends the things he says positively, and yet I hear them as dismissive.
I still want to express it. But I don't know how to share what's there without being able to magically project an image from my brain. I've gotten some satisfaction on that front from dancing with him, to music that I associated with the dark days. It's the closest I've come. I wonder occasionally if sex to music would help, and then I consistently forget to ever make that happen. This isn't a fantasy that can become reality through simple explanation. This is a room in which I desperately want company, but where I cannot figure out how to make a door through which others can enter.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Rolling
So E is interesting.
Nothing like I thought it would be. Most of what I had heard about it (ignoring Kevin's idiotic opinions) was that it makes physical sensations feel amazing, and makes you feel like you love everybody and are very in touch with people around you. Aiden recommended comfy clothes for the adventure, so I put on some sweats and prepared to love everything.
The first thing I noticed was vertigo; I got light-headed and felt like my brain was being squeezed. Then my heart started to race, my adrenaline spiked, and my hands shook. It became difficult to focus on the jewelry project I was doing, as the beads became blurry and the light reflecting off the silver rings distracted me. I gave up on trying to teach Aiden to do chainmaille, as neither of us could see with enough detail to actually close rings.
The three of us moved on to stringing beads, which proved to be much more entertaining. Shelby started pulling finished pieces and flea market finds out of my supply boxes and decking herself out in them. "Have you seen what ravers end up wearing?" Aiden asked, and "furry boot covers" was all I could think of, but apparently that was agreement.
Shelby gestured at the table, which was covered in boxes and beads and rings and scales and tools and wire and every other shiny thing I could imagine, and said, "Look what the high kids did!" I laughed. I asked her if she was also tachycardic, since we're both like that normally, and she said yes and advised me to ignore it, assuring me that there was Ativan on hand if it got too bad.
I was stringing beads and continually noting how I felt like I had drunk an entire pot of coffee, when Shelby suddenly turned to me, grabbed my face, looked at me dreamily for a moment, and then started kissing me sweetly. I kissed back, surprised, and grinned when she let me go.
"Well that was unusual," I said, smiling. "You're not normally that sweet."
"I feel happy," she said, smiling back. "This is probably how you guys feel all the time "- I nodded in agreement -" but I have depressed brain chemistry. I wish I could be like that but I'm just not. This is me with enough serotonin. I'd take an SSRI but they mess up your sex life."
There had been some discussion of fruit earlier in the day, Aiden telling us to make a fruit platter when we went to the grocery store and Shelby explaining that fruit is somehow extremely amazing on E. So we got fruit. Aiden decided to cook some rice and make fruit sushi, so while Shelby and I discussed brain chemistry, he got out the sushi things and started constructing. I went over to watch, and tried a piece of the first roll. It was salty, not fruity at all, slightly fishy, and so sticky it glued my mouth shut.
"Blech," I said, without even thinking. I made a face, spit the sushi out in my hand, and dumped it in the garbage. "What the hell happened? That's awful. I can't eat that. I need to rinse my mouth." After rinsing my mouth, I thought about what I had just said. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "My manners aren't usually that bad. I didn't mean anything personal. But damn, that was just disgusting."
Aiden shrugged, and Shelby laughed. "It'll do that," she said. "You'll just blurt things out and then go, Oh, oh gosh, I'm so sorry I said that." Her description was accompanied with an intensity that I've never seen from her before. She's usually relatively inexpressive when speaking, and to see her lean in and speak with passion was new.
The honesty was a feeling. I said I could tell that if someone asked me a question, I would just spout off without censoring a single word.
Aiden got quiet and "contemplative" - unusual for him. I tried not to be concerned, deliberately keeping an awareness of the fact that his being quiet makes me worry, and just because I'm worrying doesn't mean anything is actually wrong. I restrained my concern to merely asking if he was all right a couple of times.
Shelby and I, on the other hand, couldn't stop talking. I've never in my life been so compelled to expel so many words. I couldn't stop, except to listen to Shelby. Between the two of us, there was no silence for several hours. Everything that entered my brain exited immediately via my mouth, shortcutting the usual judgment circuit.
Aiden had explained the therapeutic part of the effect, where a person can address their problems from an outside perspective without their own emotional baggage in the way, and now I understand what that means. For me, it was like the emotion generator was just unplugged from the rest of the system. We all expressed ourselves with complete and brutal honesty on quite a few topics, and none of us were at all insulted or perturbed. Everything was just interesting in an academic way.
I made a pot of Earl Grey, Shelby seeded a pomegranate, and the three of us had a tea party in the living room. We sat on cushions around a coffee table and talked and talked and talked. I noted that this was way better than acid, and it wasn't what I was expecting but it was great, and I felt like I could do it all night.
There was little in the way of physical effects. My body felt normal except for the slight buzz, which had subsided from "entire twelve-cup pot of coffee in ten minutes" to "maybe three lattes was too many in three hours."
Eventually the tea party ended and we returned to beading. A weird note of bitterness appeared in my head, and I guessed that my emotions were starting to be plugged back in. I was concerned about some things that had been said, but I focused on my beading and kept quiet. The silence was another clue that I was coming back to normal. Shortly after that we went to bed, and I was glad to find sleep waiting not far away.
The next morning, when the alarm went off, Shelby and I were instantaneously wide awake and ready to bounce into the day. Aiden was still logey, barely opening his eyes to our prodding and biting. "I just want you to care," Shelby said, and even that didn't rouse him. I still felt a little buzzy and a little more honest than usual. I wondered how long it would last.
A couple of hours later on, the buzz had disappeared, and over dinner I noted that things were now crossing my mind and only sometimes choosing to exit orally. I also realized that half the time I didn't say things I was thinking, it was because Aiden was already chattering about something.
This morning I woke up tired, having not gotten enough sleep. On my drive to work, I thought about the things that had come up that bothered me, and found myself fighting anxiety and depression. Shelby had warned me that some people get a day or two of depressive after-effect. I messaged Aiden and asked if he had ever found it difficult to process anything that came up, and he said no. But it turned out Shelby and I were both reacting to issues this morning.
Discussion of their having given up pot for me turned into a weight of guilt and panic on me, and discussion of how Shelby abuses her power as the breadwinner when angry with Aiden made her feel like he secretly hated her. We really could have used another day to just hang out and cuddle, but two-day weekends don't allow for two days of recovery. Fortunately this is only a three-day work week, since Thanksgiving is Thursday.
Overall, I'd say that rolling was much more enjoyable than tripping on acid, even accounting for the weird panicky after-effects, and I'd be more inclined to do it again. I do hope that I can eventually experience the other body effects, too, as they sound really entertaining.
Aiden also mentioned "candy-flipping," a name that I don't understand for doing acid and E at the same time. I'm not sure what that would do except possibly give me a heart attack from too many stimulants.
Nothing like I thought it would be. Most of what I had heard about it (ignoring Kevin's idiotic opinions) was that it makes physical sensations feel amazing, and makes you feel like you love everybody and are very in touch with people around you. Aiden recommended comfy clothes for the adventure, so I put on some sweats and prepared to love everything.
The first thing I noticed was vertigo; I got light-headed and felt like my brain was being squeezed. Then my heart started to race, my adrenaline spiked, and my hands shook. It became difficult to focus on the jewelry project I was doing, as the beads became blurry and the light reflecting off the silver rings distracted me. I gave up on trying to teach Aiden to do chainmaille, as neither of us could see with enough detail to actually close rings.
The three of us moved on to stringing beads, which proved to be much more entertaining. Shelby started pulling finished pieces and flea market finds out of my supply boxes and decking herself out in them. "Have you seen what ravers end up wearing?" Aiden asked, and "furry boot covers" was all I could think of, but apparently that was agreement.
Shelby gestured at the table, which was covered in boxes and beads and rings and scales and tools and wire and every other shiny thing I could imagine, and said, "Look what the high kids did!" I laughed. I asked her if she was also tachycardic, since we're both like that normally, and she said yes and advised me to ignore it, assuring me that there was Ativan on hand if it got too bad.
I was stringing beads and continually noting how I felt like I had drunk an entire pot of coffee, when Shelby suddenly turned to me, grabbed my face, looked at me dreamily for a moment, and then started kissing me sweetly. I kissed back, surprised, and grinned when she let me go.
"Well that was unusual," I said, smiling. "You're not normally that sweet."
"I feel happy," she said, smiling back. "This is probably how you guys feel all the time "- I nodded in agreement -" but I have depressed brain chemistry. I wish I could be like that but I'm just not. This is me with enough serotonin. I'd take an SSRI but they mess up your sex life."
There had been some discussion of fruit earlier in the day, Aiden telling us to make a fruit platter when we went to the grocery store and Shelby explaining that fruit is somehow extremely amazing on E. So we got fruit. Aiden decided to cook some rice and make fruit sushi, so while Shelby and I discussed brain chemistry, he got out the sushi things and started constructing. I went over to watch, and tried a piece of the first roll. It was salty, not fruity at all, slightly fishy, and so sticky it glued my mouth shut.
"Blech," I said, without even thinking. I made a face, spit the sushi out in my hand, and dumped it in the garbage. "What the hell happened? That's awful. I can't eat that. I need to rinse my mouth." After rinsing my mouth, I thought about what I had just said. "I'm sorry," I apologized. "My manners aren't usually that bad. I didn't mean anything personal. But damn, that was just disgusting."
Aiden shrugged, and Shelby laughed. "It'll do that," she said. "You'll just blurt things out and then go, Oh, oh gosh, I'm so sorry I said that." Her description was accompanied with an intensity that I've never seen from her before. She's usually relatively inexpressive when speaking, and to see her lean in and speak with passion was new.
The honesty was a feeling. I said I could tell that if someone asked me a question, I would just spout off without censoring a single word.
Aiden got quiet and "contemplative" - unusual for him. I tried not to be concerned, deliberately keeping an awareness of the fact that his being quiet makes me worry, and just because I'm worrying doesn't mean anything is actually wrong. I restrained my concern to merely asking if he was all right a couple of times.
Shelby and I, on the other hand, couldn't stop talking. I've never in my life been so compelled to expel so many words. I couldn't stop, except to listen to Shelby. Between the two of us, there was no silence for several hours. Everything that entered my brain exited immediately via my mouth, shortcutting the usual judgment circuit.
Aiden had explained the therapeutic part of the effect, where a person can address their problems from an outside perspective without their own emotional baggage in the way, and now I understand what that means. For me, it was like the emotion generator was just unplugged from the rest of the system. We all expressed ourselves with complete and brutal honesty on quite a few topics, and none of us were at all insulted or perturbed. Everything was just interesting in an academic way.
I made a pot of Earl Grey, Shelby seeded a pomegranate, and the three of us had a tea party in the living room. We sat on cushions around a coffee table and talked and talked and talked. I noted that this was way better than acid, and it wasn't what I was expecting but it was great, and I felt like I could do it all night.
There was little in the way of physical effects. My body felt normal except for the slight buzz, which had subsided from "entire twelve-cup pot of coffee in ten minutes" to "maybe three lattes was too many in three hours."
Eventually the tea party ended and we returned to beading. A weird note of bitterness appeared in my head, and I guessed that my emotions were starting to be plugged back in. I was concerned about some things that had been said, but I focused on my beading and kept quiet. The silence was another clue that I was coming back to normal. Shortly after that we went to bed, and I was glad to find sleep waiting not far away.
The next morning, when the alarm went off, Shelby and I were instantaneously wide awake and ready to bounce into the day. Aiden was still logey, barely opening his eyes to our prodding and biting. "I just want you to care," Shelby said, and even that didn't rouse him. I still felt a little buzzy and a little more honest than usual. I wondered how long it would last.
A couple of hours later on, the buzz had disappeared, and over dinner I noted that things were now crossing my mind and only sometimes choosing to exit orally. I also realized that half the time I didn't say things I was thinking, it was because Aiden was already chattering about something.
This morning I woke up tired, having not gotten enough sleep. On my drive to work, I thought about the things that had come up that bothered me, and found myself fighting anxiety and depression. Shelby had warned me that some people get a day or two of depressive after-effect. I messaged Aiden and asked if he had ever found it difficult to process anything that came up, and he said no. But it turned out Shelby and I were both reacting to issues this morning.
Discussion of their having given up pot for me turned into a weight of guilt and panic on me, and discussion of how Shelby abuses her power as the breadwinner when angry with Aiden made her feel like he secretly hated her. We really could have used another day to just hang out and cuddle, but two-day weekends don't allow for two days of recovery. Fortunately this is only a three-day work week, since Thanksgiving is Thursday.
Overall, I'd say that rolling was much more enjoyable than tripping on acid, even accounting for the weird panicky after-effects, and I'd be more inclined to do it again. I do hope that I can eventually experience the other body effects, too, as they sound really entertaining.
Aiden also mentioned "candy-flipping," a name that I don't understand for doing acid and E at the same time. I'm not sure what that would do except possibly give me a heart attack from too many stimulants.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
The Deep
The deepest mystery that's ever floated in my own head is why I'm scared of a certain class of things. I'm not even sure they are really a class. I don't know that they actually have a lot to do with each other. Maybe it's just that the fear feels the same, so I'm assuming a relation among the causes.
Or, perhaps, they can be generalized to "altered state of consciousness, not including sleep." I love sleeping. I love dreaming. That's never been a question.
But into the fear category have gone, at various points in time, spirits and seances, Wicca and spell-casting, hypnosis, mind-altering drugs, and That Damn Thing My Ex-Girlfriend Did*. I guess they are related after all.
What am I really afraid of? Is it just that age-old fear of the unknown that I've been told all people naturally have? Meh. Perhaps that's some of it. But I've busted into plenty of other unknowns with nothing worse than a touch of nerves, without experiencing that feeling of someone squeezing my heart in a fist. Drop me into a creepy alley in the middle of the night, and my pulse will race, but I'll march forward and face whatever's there, because I'm pretty sure I can handle it.
So maybe I don't think I can handle...what, exactly? A bad trip? That certainly sounds scary, but I don't think it would be any worse than a really long nightmare (assuming I don't actually encounter a malevolent demon from the abyss, which isn't exactly Concern #1). The Bad Trip explanation makes me nervous, but it doesn't quite reach as far down as the undefinable Panic. Moving on.
The night that Shelby came and stayed with me earlier this fall, I tried to explain to her what it was that made me want to run away screaming from the subject of drugs. I stumbled over my words, replacing some of them with helpless reaching gestures while saying, "I'm afraid of that other person going away. They're there, and I'm here, and we're both 'here' in this room, but I don't know where they actually are. I'm afraid they're going to go away without me." Yes, I'm definitely afraid of being left here alone.
If you're a person that I want to be close to, I want to be WITH you, not just exist in the same space as you. Lying near each other while we each experience something completely different sounds quite unappealing. Adventuring alone is all well and fine, but if I'm going to adventure alone, why would I waste the precious time that I get to spend with you to go off by myself?
That actually explains some of my behavior from the acid trip. I worked hard to get Aiden interested in sex, even though he didn't seem very interested at first, and then we fucked for what felt like hours. I wasn't particularly more turned-on than usual - in fact, I had quite a difficult time coming - but I needed to feel the human connection, to know that he was still there, not wandering lost in some other world. Touch me. Fuck me. Stay here with me.
Simultaneously, it explains why the thought crossed my mind yesterday that the keenest interest I have in drugs is to see how they affect sex.
I'm actually surprised how much that realization feels like the Truth that I was looking for. I was afraid that my ex-girlfriend would go off and do That Damn Thing without me. The "What do you need that for when this world is perfectly interesting?" question that I mentioned last time still feels the same when reworded as, "Why do you want to be over there when I'm right here?" Alcohol doesn't trigger this fear because I know exactly where it goes, and that it doesn't result in anyone mysteriously checking out on me. The thought of someone I love using drugs extensively does scare me, because I picture them ending up permanently changed, in a place where I can no longer reach them.
I spend a lot of time alone. This "don't leave me" discovery seems like an odd contrast to that. I often get overwhelmed and claim that I wish the world would just go away, that all the people would just leave me the hell alone. I guess this is the change when I get attached to someone...this is why certain people are allowed in my introvert bubble...this is why I resist when I find myself getting close to someone new. I won't hand over the power to leave me to just anyone. First I have to trust that you won't.
Being me, of course, I hide that. When I was tiny and my mom dropped me off at school, I envied the kids who held onto their parents' legs and screamed and cried and begged them not to leave. I wanted to do that. That was how I felt, but I knew it wasn't okay to express it. Being needy wasn't approved behavior. So I just let my mom leave and pretended it was fine.
The fear has matured since I was three, of course. I don't panic when someone walks out of a room. I'm not on the verge of tears every Monday morning when I go back to my own town until Friday night. But I can say that when I look back over the patterns that have appeared in my life, the things I've gotten most upset about, the things that trigger my OCD, the things I'm afraid of...they all fit this paradigm perfectly. They're all variations on a theme of Separation Anxiety.
*Something complicated that involved role-playing and visiting a mysterious "elsewhere" that couldn't be experienced by normal people who weren't "awoken."
Or, perhaps, they can be generalized to "altered state of consciousness, not including sleep." I love sleeping. I love dreaming. That's never been a question.
But into the fear category have gone, at various points in time, spirits and seances, Wicca and spell-casting, hypnosis, mind-altering drugs, and That Damn Thing My Ex-Girlfriend Did*. I guess they are related after all.
What am I really afraid of? Is it just that age-old fear of the unknown that I've been told all people naturally have? Meh. Perhaps that's some of it. But I've busted into plenty of other unknowns with nothing worse than a touch of nerves, without experiencing that feeling of someone squeezing my heart in a fist. Drop me into a creepy alley in the middle of the night, and my pulse will race, but I'll march forward and face whatever's there, because I'm pretty sure I can handle it.
So maybe I don't think I can handle...what, exactly? A bad trip? That certainly sounds scary, but I don't think it would be any worse than a really long nightmare (assuming I don't actually encounter a malevolent demon from the abyss, which isn't exactly Concern #1). The Bad Trip explanation makes me nervous, but it doesn't quite reach as far down as the undefinable Panic. Moving on.
The night that Shelby came and stayed with me earlier this fall, I tried to explain to her what it was that made me want to run away screaming from the subject of drugs. I stumbled over my words, replacing some of them with helpless reaching gestures while saying, "I'm afraid of that other person going away. They're there, and I'm here, and we're both 'here' in this room, but I don't know where they actually are. I'm afraid they're going to go away without me." Yes, I'm definitely afraid of being left here alone.
If you're a person that I want to be close to, I want to be WITH you, not just exist in the same space as you. Lying near each other while we each experience something completely different sounds quite unappealing. Adventuring alone is all well and fine, but if I'm going to adventure alone, why would I waste the precious time that I get to spend with you to go off by myself?
That actually explains some of my behavior from the acid trip. I worked hard to get Aiden interested in sex, even though he didn't seem very interested at first, and then we fucked for what felt like hours. I wasn't particularly more turned-on than usual - in fact, I had quite a difficult time coming - but I needed to feel the human connection, to know that he was still there, not wandering lost in some other world. Touch me. Fuck me. Stay here with me.
Simultaneously, it explains why the thought crossed my mind yesterday that the keenest interest I have in drugs is to see how they affect sex.
I'm actually surprised how much that realization feels like the Truth that I was looking for. I was afraid that my ex-girlfriend would go off and do That Damn Thing without me. The "What do you need that for when this world is perfectly interesting?" question that I mentioned last time still feels the same when reworded as, "Why do you want to be over there when I'm right here?" Alcohol doesn't trigger this fear because I know exactly where it goes, and that it doesn't result in anyone mysteriously checking out on me. The thought of someone I love using drugs extensively does scare me, because I picture them ending up permanently changed, in a place where I can no longer reach them.
I spend a lot of time alone. This "don't leave me" discovery seems like an odd contrast to that. I often get overwhelmed and claim that I wish the world would just go away, that all the people would just leave me the hell alone. I guess this is the change when I get attached to someone...this is why certain people are allowed in my introvert bubble...this is why I resist when I find myself getting close to someone new. I won't hand over the power to leave me to just anyone. First I have to trust that you won't.
Being me, of course, I hide that. When I was tiny and my mom dropped me off at school, I envied the kids who held onto their parents' legs and screamed and cried and begged them not to leave. I wanted to do that. That was how I felt, but I knew it wasn't okay to express it. Being needy wasn't approved behavior. So I just let my mom leave and pretended it was fine.
The fear has matured since I was three, of course. I don't panic when someone walks out of a room. I'm not on the verge of tears every Monday morning when I go back to my own town until Friday night. But I can say that when I look back over the patterns that have appeared in my life, the things I've gotten most upset about, the things that trigger my OCD, the things I'm afraid of...they all fit this paradigm perfectly. They're all variations on a theme of Separation Anxiety.
*Something complicated that involved role-playing and visiting a mysterious "elsewhere" that couldn't be experienced by normal people who weren't "awoken."
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