In some ways, I may seem passive aggressive. I really don't mean to be. I am just that socially terrified. I don't know what to do, so it builds up and builds up and builds up until I cry, or yell. People scare me, especially in situations where there's something they're doing that really bugs me or hurts my feelings. If I trust you enough, I might mention it, and it might come across as nagging. I don't mean to, I just don't know how else to approach it other than keep repeating it, if nothing's being done.
But with everyone else, I just don't know how to. When someone who is staying over does something that upsets me, I shut down And it's stupid little stuff that shouldn't matter to most people, but it really does to me. I believe in fairness, and in certain things that are Mine. It's stupid, I know, and it's OCD, and it's weird, but it really, really, deeply bugs me when someone sits in "My Chair", or drinks a soda of mine without asking. Idk what other people's social rules are... Mine are, if you want something of Mine, ask me for it. Yes, very time. Just because I gave you a soda last time doesnt mean I want to give you one this time. Especially of certain kinds. RC Cola? MINE. I haven't had it in years, and it's perfect. Pepsi has a funny aftertaste, and Coca-Cola is fuckin' gross. It reminds me of my dad, who I haven't seen in two years. He loved RC Cola too.(He's still alive..)
I have candy in the house, and it bugs me when people eat through it... Yes, there's a lot of it.. There's a lot of it because my logic is to buy a large amount at once, and it will last me a month. A bag of Crunch Bars will last me about 3 weeks.. I eat 3-5 a day MAYBE, and either when I want the taste, or when I am so hungry I'm feeling weird. When I'm that hungry I can't think, and I'm more emotional than ever. My logic is kinda messed up right now, I don't know why, but in my brain there are, for lack of a better term, "Rules" that I don't even understand. They're just there.
I can't think of anything to make for breakfast, so I don't. Milk gives me nasty indigestion. Eggs are too much work. Bread gives me heartburn. :/ It's stupid, I know. I'm working on it. When I am that hungry that I can't think, I'll eat one or two to get some sugar in my system and then I deal with my hunger.
I'm really fucking moody. I might suddenly NEED to clean. Other times I might spend all my time on my computer. It's my comfort zone, I hate face to face interactions. I get terrified.
The weirdest part? I don't want to bring shit up, and fundamentally CAN'T because I don't want to hurt people. I guess I figure most people are as sensitive as me, or something.
So, that should explain me a bit better.
Showing posts with label psychology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label psychology. Show all posts
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Emotions: The Tidal Waves Within.
I have never been diagnosed with anything, mostly because I've been too poor to have insurance or too scared/uncomfortable with the concept of a therapist/psychologist. So, instead of talking about labels, I'm just going to talk about where I've been, where I am now, and where I hope to be one day.
I've never understood other people's emotions all that well. I know my own, as one who lives on the shore learns to know the signs of an oncoming tidal wave that could destroy all they care about. I have spent so long in my own mind, traversing the mazes within to find the keys to my own stability. And I did find some, so it hasn't been for naught. But.. I was terrible. I accept that. I know that. I still feel... bad doesn't cover it. I feel terrible about it, but terrible is just a word people lump on things to make it easier to explain.
Whatever was going on in my head those years ago, it manifested as different things, different emotions and behaviors. All contorted out of context, and reality into something far more disturbing and dangerous. In a way I'm GLAD that in 2007-2008 no one really knew me in person. The only person was Glenn, and that relationship has been damaged by that. There will always be a gap between us now.
I'm glad because had I been more social, it's very possible I would have been locked up. I'm glad because no one deserves the backlash, the cruelty I casually dispersed when I was so blind with rage at whatever was on my mind at the time. I'm glad because no one else was hurt... Only online. Only through the screen of the web could I lash out and attempt to infect others with my so called righteous fury. Only through the veneer of reality of the internet could anyone see the psychosis I experienced, up until whatever it was that happened that fateful day in April.
Only online could people see the real me that existed then. To anyone in person I must have just seemed dark, weird and angry. I spent all my time in my room, unhealthily so- And I mean that literally. All I consumed were pastas, and rockstars. Up to 4 of the huge ones a day. At one point there were 3 types of mold in my room because I was so mentally unhealthy, trying to battle the rage in my mind (which is quite possibly what led to the events of 4/14/2008) that I didn't. even. notice.
I was not in a good place, at all. Though sometimes still I say I want the world to burn, back then it was more than just a minor haunting shadow behind my head, remarking when I saw terrible news, or cruelty. It was a yearning, a terrible, consuming wish that the world and everything on it would burn, metaphorically and actually. Honestly, I am amazed I came out of that on my own. It built up and built up and built up, consuming every waking moment of my life, between that and bouts of almost narcissism. With a twist, of course, because my human life is so boring....
That's where my creativity came in. Amazing stories of strong, awesome characters filled my head to the brim, just appearing on their own, and at the time, I thought I was experiencing past life memories. Who knows, maybe I was. My mind constructed reasons for all my angry thoughts.
Anyway... Trying to stop myself from being angry was like trying to chain down a dragon by diving on it and trying to put a regular necklace on it. While the dragon is thrashing around and throwing you against boulders etc.
Then, one day... Well, one morning after I'd stayed up all night on some stupid whim, my brain cracked, and colors came out. And yes, I mean I literally hallucinated. I had gotten out of the shower, and pulled the hoodie on over my head, and bam. My center of balance was ... just gone. I could see crystal clearly without my glasses for a moment, and then everything came crashing down. The bathroom was yellow/green. The hallway magenta.
My room was lavendar and underwater. NOTE: I physically SAW these things. I felt my brain pulsating inside my skull and thought I was having a "brain attack". My legs gave out when I made it into the room- It was as if they served to deliver me to my room and then were turned off by remote control. BAM. I landed on my stomach facing the window/wall, my back to the closet. I could feel my icy cold hair on my back, and I thought I would freeze to death. My heart was pounding in my chest and I thought I was going to die from that. I closed my eyes and rode it out for about 10 minutes, before finally making myself get up and find my glasses.
Ever since then? I haven't had such bouts of rage with no reason anymore. I still have the rage, though it's shrunk a lot now. But whereas then I felt consumed by it and it had no direct reason, now it's an instantaneous overreaction I can calm down from. I can feel OTHER THINGS. It's amazing.
However... I still don't like it. Having no real control over what angers me. I know that it's not really something anyone can help that much, no matter how perfect they want to pretend they are. But I really dislike the idea of being consumed by fleeting feelings, and I still am. My default now is happiness, but the rage easily pops through to say hello when something angers me. I mean, it's more than someone in a car cutting me off in the crosswalk, though. I really have regained a lot of control without medication or any therapy besides my own haphazard, half-interested creativity. I wake up in the morning and have a smile on my face, happy to be alive. It fades throughout the day, but I don't just go into that unhealthy state anymore.
I've never understood other people's emotions all that well. I know my own, as one who lives on the shore learns to know the signs of an oncoming tidal wave that could destroy all they care about. I have spent so long in my own mind, traversing the mazes within to find the keys to my own stability. And I did find some, so it hasn't been for naught. But.. I was terrible. I accept that. I know that. I still feel... bad doesn't cover it. I feel terrible about it, but terrible is just a word people lump on things to make it easier to explain.
Whatever was going on in my head those years ago, it manifested as different things, different emotions and behaviors. All contorted out of context, and reality into something far more disturbing and dangerous. In a way I'm GLAD that in 2007-2008 no one really knew me in person. The only person was Glenn, and that relationship has been damaged by that. There will always be a gap between us now.
I'm glad because had I been more social, it's very possible I would have been locked up. I'm glad because no one deserves the backlash, the cruelty I casually dispersed when I was so blind with rage at whatever was on my mind at the time. I'm glad because no one else was hurt... Only online. Only through the screen of the web could I lash out and attempt to infect others with my so called righteous fury. Only through the veneer of reality of the internet could anyone see the psychosis I experienced, up until whatever it was that happened that fateful day in April.
Only online could people see the real me that existed then. To anyone in person I must have just seemed dark, weird and angry. I spent all my time in my room, unhealthily so- And I mean that literally. All I consumed were pastas, and rockstars. Up to 4 of the huge ones a day. At one point there were 3 types of mold in my room because I was so mentally unhealthy, trying to battle the rage in my mind (which is quite possibly what led to the events of 4/14/2008) that I didn't. even. notice.
I was not in a good place, at all. Though sometimes still I say I want the world to burn, back then it was more than just a minor haunting shadow behind my head, remarking when I saw terrible news, or cruelty. It was a yearning, a terrible, consuming wish that the world and everything on it would burn, metaphorically and actually. Honestly, I am amazed I came out of that on my own. It built up and built up and built up, consuming every waking moment of my life, between that and bouts of almost narcissism. With a twist, of course, because my human life is so boring....
That's where my creativity came in. Amazing stories of strong, awesome characters filled my head to the brim, just appearing on their own, and at the time, I thought I was experiencing past life memories. Who knows, maybe I was. My mind constructed reasons for all my angry thoughts.
Anyway... Trying to stop myself from being angry was like trying to chain down a dragon by diving on it and trying to put a regular necklace on it. While the dragon is thrashing around and throwing you against boulders etc.
Then, one day... Well, one morning after I'd stayed up all night on some stupid whim, my brain cracked, and colors came out. And yes, I mean I literally hallucinated. I had gotten out of the shower, and pulled the hoodie on over my head, and bam. My center of balance was ... just gone. I could see crystal clearly without my glasses for a moment, and then everything came crashing down. The bathroom was yellow/green. The hallway magenta.
My room was lavendar and underwater. NOTE: I physically SAW these things. I felt my brain pulsating inside my skull and thought I was having a "brain attack". My legs gave out when I made it into the room- It was as if they served to deliver me to my room and then were turned off by remote control. BAM. I landed on my stomach facing the window/wall, my back to the closet. I could feel my icy cold hair on my back, and I thought I would freeze to death. My heart was pounding in my chest and I thought I was going to die from that. I closed my eyes and rode it out for about 10 minutes, before finally making myself get up and find my glasses.
Ever since then? I haven't had such bouts of rage with no reason anymore. I still have the rage, though it's shrunk a lot now. But whereas then I felt consumed by it and it had no direct reason, now it's an instantaneous overreaction I can calm down from. I can feel OTHER THINGS. It's amazing.
However... I still don't like it. Having no real control over what angers me. I know that it's not really something anyone can help that much, no matter how perfect they want to pretend they are. But I really dislike the idea of being consumed by fleeting feelings, and I still am. My default now is happiness, but the rage easily pops through to say hello when something angers me. I mean, it's more than someone in a car cutting me off in the crosswalk, though. I really have regained a lot of control without medication or any therapy besides my own haphazard, half-interested creativity. I wake up in the morning and have a smile on my face, happy to be alive. It fades throughout the day, but I don't just go into that unhealthy state anymore.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Child Abuse
It has been said by some psychologists
that “Physical abuse isn't the same as emotional abuse”. Who
knows, it may even be true. But physical abuse still holds
psychological trauma, though perhaps not so severe as purely
psychological and emotional abuse.
FOR THE RECORD! I do not personally know about physical or sexual abuse.. except for psychological sexual abuse I suppose. I am NOT claiming to know what it is like for anyone who has, and I really really do not mean to hurt anyone, so if this is a sensitive topic to you and you are not ready to read this please feel free to x out of this tab in your browser, or hit the back button, etc. I'm not trying to diminish anyone's pain, by any means.
I don't know, I was never physically abused. But one thing I do know is that physical abuse does have psychological manifestations as well, because when it is done to children it begins a cycle of abuse and acceptance of it. For example: Say there's a girl named Mary, raised by her parents. They beat her from when she is 5 years old on up, from spankings to more violent means. She begins to quickly learn that this is her world. That this is how things simply are. At first she doesn't understand why Mommy and Daddy hurt her, then she begins to believe she deserves it. She starts to accept it, if not like it. Because she is so young and her brain is developing, she begins to learn that this is okay, that she deserves it, she is a bad girl. She will probably try to be good, but the parents don't see that, they only see what they perceive as bad behavior, and so her box of what she thinks she can do begins to shrink.
It's hard for me to write this, and I haven't even been hit. I was spanked once as a kid, maybe 8 or so, because I had to stay after school and my dad didn't know where I was, so he took his frustration out on me. I didn't understand what I did wrong and thought it was unfair. I never had a problem with him again until I was 16.
So she begins to become less social possibly, because her trust is so small and she begins to expect the same behavior from her parents to come from others. She starts dating someone who is like her parents because that's what she recognizes, and she enters the realm of domestic violence. Psychologically, people in domestically violent situations have trouble distancing themselves from the person because they have lived with it for so long that it becomes survival. It becomes second nature to excuse their partner's problems. It's not that bad, they'll change, etc. This is not due to weakness, or them being pathetic. You being in that situation will be different from someone else. What you might do in that situation as someone who didn't grow accustomed to it will be VASTLY different than someone trained for it.
Or perhaps the abused will become the abuser over time. That happens as well.
When it comes to psychological damage, that depends on a per situation basis. I mean, hell, with my dad, I don't think he ever knew how I reacted to offhand comments he'd make when he was drunk. I don't think it occurred to him at all. I don't blame him for that at all. I don't blame him for what my mind took from what he said. I'm not so sure I entirely blame myself, either. It was just something that happened when a feminist at heart hears things for extended periods of time.
See, my father would make comments about how women used to be in positions of great respect and authority, before christianity. Then men took over. I'd go into detail but I can already feel the fury that came with this coming on a little. Basically, my dad went into details about just how screwed over women were over the centuries... Sometimes he'd take a more feminist approach, other times he'd be a misogynistic prick. He made little DARK “jokes” about how the reason high heels and miniskirts are supposedly so popular with men is it makes it harder for the women to run away and “easy access”.
Sometimes he'd make comments about how all the boys watched me walk away. But no, they weren't really interested in ME, they just wanted whatever pussy they could get. Etc, etc, etc. When I focus on it, I can see what he MEANT by it, what he meant to do by it, which was discourage me from having sex before I was ready.
But now? Well, I despised the very idea of sex for a long time. Then I distanced myself entirely from it. I'd have sex with someone, but basically be out of my body, emotionally GONE. I didn't enjoy it, it was more like I was trying to understand why people like this act that is supposedly so fun, so good, so “perfect” or whatever. I distanced myself from it so utterly that being raped didn't really bother me, as fucked up as it sounds. What bothered me the MOST about it was how close I came to being ACTUALLY hurt. The guy was an ex convict. I was in a van but NOT at all where I remembered being before it all started. I had blacked out and woke up with the guy on top of me, inside me, and he looked like a demon with the way he was backlit by the streetlight outside. What freaked me out was the lack of control, the sheer fact that even after I left that next morning I needed him to walk me to the bus stop/max train.
Being raped didn't scare me. I was angry about it, but he was much bigger than me, so all I could really do was beg him to let me sleep, to get out of me, to just let me sleep, etc.
But now? For some reason, the very topic of sex bothers me. I can talk about the life of a sex worker/escort with some of my friends who have been. I can contemplate abstractly filming myself and my husband as amateur porn or something. Not that I'd end up doing it, simply because I just don't want people I know to see me. I can discuss my own sex life I think, though I'm not sure. I haven't, really. But other people's? Talking about sex and our culture, abstractly? Talking about sex and “Sexual freedom” etc? It just makes me shut down just as a room with people in it does. Even sounds of a tv show can shut me down on occasion.
It's amazing what can change your views, your outlook on life. Your very personality. I've always been a strong person, though in high school I was too afraid. I was angry enough and determined enough to come into myself.
I don't think everyone is that lucky. I don't think everyone who has been abused can just... shut it out, have it be a good thing that changes them for the better. CPS doesn't do much to help anyone, but it's better than ignoring it, in my opinion.
FOR THE RECORD! I do not personally know about physical or sexual abuse.. except for psychological sexual abuse I suppose. I am NOT claiming to know what it is like for anyone who has, and I really really do not mean to hurt anyone, so if this is a sensitive topic to you and you are not ready to read this please feel free to x out of this tab in your browser, or hit the back button, etc. I'm not trying to diminish anyone's pain, by any means.
I don't know, I was never physically abused. But one thing I do know is that physical abuse does have psychological manifestations as well, because when it is done to children it begins a cycle of abuse and acceptance of it. For example: Say there's a girl named Mary, raised by her parents. They beat her from when she is 5 years old on up, from spankings to more violent means. She begins to quickly learn that this is her world. That this is how things simply are. At first she doesn't understand why Mommy and Daddy hurt her, then she begins to believe she deserves it. She starts to accept it, if not like it. Because she is so young and her brain is developing, she begins to learn that this is okay, that she deserves it, she is a bad girl. She will probably try to be good, but the parents don't see that, they only see what they perceive as bad behavior, and so her box of what she thinks she can do begins to shrink.
It's hard for me to write this, and I haven't even been hit. I was spanked once as a kid, maybe 8 or so, because I had to stay after school and my dad didn't know where I was, so he took his frustration out on me. I didn't understand what I did wrong and thought it was unfair. I never had a problem with him again until I was 16.
So she begins to become less social possibly, because her trust is so small and she begins to expect the same behavior from her parents to come from others. She starts dating someone who is like her parents because that's what she recognizes, and she enters the realm of domestic violence. Psychologically, people in domestically violent situations have trouble distancing themselves from the person because they have lived with it for so long that it becomes survival. It becomes second nature to excuse their partner's problems. It's not that bad, they'll change, etc. This is not due to weakness, or them being pathetic. You being in that situation will be different from someone else. What you might do in that situation as someone who didn't grow accustomed to it will be VASTLY different than someone trained for it.
Or perhaps the abused will become the abuser over time. That happens as well.
When it comes to psychological damage, that depends on a per situation basis. I mean, hell, with my dad, I don't think he ever knew how I reacted to offhand comments he'd make when he was drunk. I don't think it occurred to him at all. I don't blame him for that at all. I don't blame him for what my mind took from what he said. I'm not so sure I entirely blame myself, either. It was just something that happened when a feminist at heart hears things for extended periods of time.
See, my father would make comments about how women used to be in positions of great respect and authority, before christianity. Then men took over. I'd go into detail but I can already feel the fury that came with this coming on a little. Basically, my dad went into details about just how screwed over women were over the centuries... Sometimes he'd take a more feminist approach, other times he'd be a misogynistic prick. He made little DARK “jokes” about how the reason high heels and miniskirts are supposedly so popular with men is it makes it harder for the women to run away and “easy access”.
Sometimes he'd make comments about how all the boys watched me walk away. But no, they weren't really interested in ME, they just wanted whatever pussy they could get. Etc, etc, etc. When I focus on it, I can see what he MEANT by it, what he meant to do by it, which was discourage me from having sex before I was ready.
But now? Well, I despised the very idea of sex for a long time. Then I distanced myself entirely from it. I'd have sex with someone, but basically be out of my body, emotionally GONE. I didn't enjoy it, it was more like I was trying to understand why people like this act that is supposedly so fun, so good, so “perfect” or whatever. I distanced myself from it so utterly that being raped didn't really bother me, as fucked up as it sounds. What bothered me the MOST about it was how close I came to being ACTUALLY hurt. The guy was an ex convict. I was in a van but NOT at all where I remembered being before it all started. I had blacked out and woke up with the guy on top of me, inside me, and he looked like a demon with the way he was backlit by the streetlight outside. What freaked me out was the lack of control, the sheer fact that even after I left that next morning I needed him to walk me to the bus stop/max train.
Being raped didn't scare me. I was angry about it, but he was much bigger than me, so all I could really do was beg him to let me sleep, to get out of me, to just let me sleep, etc.
But now? For some reason, the very topic of sex bothers me. I can talk about the life of a sex worker/escort with some of my friends who have been. I can contemplate abstractly filming myself and my husband as amateur porn or something. Not that I'd end up doing it, simply because I just don't want people I know to see me. I can discuss my own sex life I think, though I'm not sure. I haven't, really. But other people's? Talking about sex and our culture, abstractly? Talking about sex and “Sexual freedom” etc? It just makes me shut down just as a room with people in it does. Even sounds of a tv show can shut me down on occasion.
It's amazing what can change your views, your outlook on life. Your very personality. I've always been a strong person, though in high school I was too afraid. I was angry enough and determined enough to come into myself.
I don't think everyone is that lucky. I don't think everyone who has been abused can just... shut it out, have it be a good thing that changes them for the better. CPS doesn't do much to help anyone, but it's better than ignoring it, in my opinion.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Sleep Psychosis?
I'm going to describe something to you guys the best that I can, in hopes that people at least are more understanding or someone may KNOW what I'm talking about.
It's been an issue since I lived in that apartment in Wilsonville, the really tiny one with all the mold? Allow me to attempt to explain.
When I sleep and am woken up ineffectively- that is, I am woken up but not ALERT, it sort of piles up. It happens occasionally and is beginning to happen more frequently and I'm getting worried. Hell, maybe I should try using an example.
Example 1: Last night.
I went to sleep with a slightly dry mouth and kept getting "woken up" by Jason. When I'm asleep, if someone drops their arm over me, or nudges into me, etc, it will "wake me up". And not in a good way, I get bitchy about it. In this state I am sleep deprived so I tend to come off as whiny because I'm really annoyed and unhappy and just want sleep. That is my primal thought at this phase. However, when I keep getting woken up, I am conscious enough to realize that for example, Jason was waking me up in HIS sleep so I had to wake him up so he would stop talking to himself and moaning and inadvertantly elbowing me in his sleep. He got bitchy at me and while he was actually awake said something about "When you want to fix our marriage, let me know". In that state, that's not gonna sink in, bad idea. I just laughed in a dark way and said I just want some fucking SLEEP. Note, at this point I had been "woken up" every half hour for the past 3 hours. It was 4 am. I remember saying something to Jason who kept insisting on having a conversation with me to shut up because I didn't want to wake up Taby and Jake.
Now.. Okay. I *think* what the issue here is is that my brain gets stuck in between "the real world" and "the dream" in this nightmare phase. I even tried explaining it to Jason last night what the "dream nightmare world" was in an attempt to explain that I think there's a serious problem and he just laughed at me.
It's terrifying BECAUSE It's so simple and so real. When I am in that state, the dream is real to me and I'm trapped in it even when I'm awake and talking to you. I might be able to do some shit like go to the bathroom or shake you awake or answer questions, but nothing cuts through. Nothing. It's generally the same dream feeling too, the same general idea.. Being trapped and overwhelmed with SOMETHING. Last night it was cake.
No... Really. The entire world in my dream, at least where I was, was filled with cake. It wasn't organized, just.. mixed together. Everywhere. I had a dry mouth and couldn't get rid of it, even though I tried. The walls were cake, the ceiling was cake, everything was cake. It wasn't the cake necessarily that was terrifying, it was the fact that I couldn't make it go away. I couldn't wake myself up even when talking to Jason, it was still there in my head, I still felt like I was surrounded by it. In the end the only thing that woke me up at all was when Jason turned the light on and pitched a bitch fit about me being bitchy about him taking the blanket.
This isn't the only time it happened. What worries me is that in this state I am not myself. In one of these in NY when I was living with ex roommates, one of whom was a cutter, I almost self mutilated. Which for anyone who knows me is extremely, extremely odd. That was a waking one, I wrote on a piece of paper all kinds of crazy shit and in different angles etc and in the center was FIND THE SQUARE. The only thing that I could focus on was finding the square, and I couldn't find one so I almost cut a square into my arm so I'd always have it. -_-
Now, you tell me cake isn't fucking creepy.
In all seriousness though, that really scares me. I'm going to attempt to go back to sleep for a little bit. I'll expand on this later.
It's been an issue since I lived in that apartment in Wilsonville, the really tiny one with all the mold? Allow me to attempt to explain.
When I sleep and am woken up ineffectively- that is, I am woken up but not ALERT, it sort of piles up. It happens occasionally and is beginning to happen more frequently and I'm getting worried. Hell, maybe I should try using an example.
Example 1: Last night.
I went to sleep with a slightly dry mouth and kept getting "woken up" by Jason. When I'm asleep, if someone drops their arm over me, or nudges into me, etc, it will "wake me up". And not in a good way, I get bitchy about it. In this state I am sleep deprived so I tend to come off as whiny because I'm really annoyed and unhappy and just want sleep. That is my primal thought at this phase. However, when I keep getting woken up, I am conscious enough to realize that for example, Jason was waking me up in HIS sleep so I had to wake him up so he would stop talking to himself and moaning and inadvertantly elbowing me in his sleep. He got bitchy at me and while he was actually awake said something about "When you want to fix our marriage, let me know". In that state, that's not gonna sink in, bad idea. I just laughed in a dark way and said I just want some fucking SLEEP. Note, at this point I had been "woken up" every half hour for the past 3 hours. It was 4 am. I remember saying something to Jason who kept insisting on having a conversation with me to shut up because I didn't want to wake up Taby and Jake.
Now.. Okay. I *think* what the issue here is is that my brain gets stuck in between "the real world" and "the dream" in this nightmare phase. I even tried explaining it to Jason last night what the "dream nightmare world" was in an attempt to explain that I think there's a serious problem and he just laughed at me.
It's terrifying BECAUSE It's so simple and so real. When I am in that state, the dream is real to me and I'm trapped in it even when I'm awake and talking to you. I might be able to do some shit like go to the bathroom or shake you awake or answer questions, but nothing cuts through. Nothing. It's generally the same dream feeling too, the same general idea.. Being trapped and overwhelmed with SOMETHING. Last night it was cake.
No... Really. The entire world in my dream, at least where I was, was filled with cake. It wasn't organized, just.. mixed together. Everywhere. I had a dry mouth and couldn't get rid of it, even though I tried. The walls were cake, the ceiling was cake, everything was cake. It wasn't the cake necessarily that was terrifying, it was the fact that I couldn't make it go away. I couldn't wake myself up even when talking to Jason, it was still there in my head, I still felt like I was surrounded by it. In the end the only thing that woke me up at all was when Jason turned the light on and pitched a bitch fit about me being bitchy about him taking the blanket.
This isn't the only time it happened. What worries me is that in this state I am not myself. In one of these in NY when I was living with ex roommates, one of whom was a cutter, I almost self mutilated. Which for anyone who knows me is extremely, extremely odd. That was a waking one, I wrote on a piece of paper all kinds of crazy shit and in different angles etc and in the center was FIND THE SQUARE. The only thing that I could focus on was finding the square, and I couldn't find one so I almost cut a square into my arm so I'd always have it. -_-
Now, you tell me cake isn't fucking creepy.
In all seriousness though, that really scares me. I'm going to attempt to go back to sleep for a little bit. I'll expand on this later.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Intro to Kat
Posting the first in a series of blogs is much like posting an about me on a social networking site. It's like trying to squash yourself into a box that others will understand. I don't particularly like that idea, though it has its uses assuredly. People love placing others in neat little boxes because it's simpler than getting to understand every facet of them.. Me, I'm more of a global mind. I like to think, and think, and contemplate, and observe. Currently I'm debating how much of myself I should reveal right now.
First thing I will tell you, I will be doing my best to post a blog daily. I may miss a day, simply because I'm homeless and trying to rectify the situation.
I'm not the most social of creatures. Hardly surprising, considering I am posting blogs rather than doing video blogs or being a comedienne.(Ah hah! It's a female!)
A little glimmer of what's in my mind- I'm sitting here in the library beneath all the layers of criss-crossing stares and in a single glance I see at least 4 people walking up or down a different part of the intricate staircase.
In those four people are four totally different lives with multiple layers of thoughts, beliefs, friends, political views, emotional entanglements, troubles and happinesses.
All humans on the planet share 99.999999%(etc) IDENTICAL genetic stuffs. That means that although they all look very different, have different mental and emotional and physical issues, though they are of different ages and have different jobs etc, and think in totally different patterns, they're all practically the same thing. They may despise each other beyond belief, or love each other as deeply as people possibly can.
All sorts of things fascinate me. I'm often caught between deep feelings of disgust toward people, and amazement. The intricate nature of mankind amazes me, yet what people do, say, how they act often disgusts me. I feel alone in a crowd, and claustrophobic all at once. I love people for their potential, and loathe them for their flaws- And note, by that I don't mean their mistakes. Mistakes are mistakes. When you choose to be an asshole to someone for no reason, with no psychological reason in your past to back it up.. It's not right. Arrogance annoys me, though I can be arrogant. I also accept that in the grand scheme of this planet and the universe I am nothing, though.
To me, love is something you can't really explain as simply platonic or familial or romantic. Love is much more than all of that. It's all of it combined. Love is knowing someone for all their strengths and faults, their problems and the reasons why and liking them anyway. It's liking them FOR their faults, for their issues, for their very being itself. It's a hard thing to do, and exhausting when you're hurt by them. But I think it's worth it.
And yes, I am random. But I think this sums me up more than I expected ^_~ 'Til next time..
-Kat-
First thing I will tell you, I will be doing my best to post a blog daily. I may miss a day, simply because I'm homeless and trying to rectify the situation.
I'm not the most social of creatures. Hardly surprising, considering I am posting blogs rather than doing video blogs or being a comedienne.(Ah hah! It's a female!)
A little glimmer of what's in my mind- I'm sitting here in the library beneath all the layers of criss-crossing stares and in a single glance I see at least 4 people walking up or down a different part of the intricate staircase.
In those four people are four totally different lives with multiple layers of thoughts, beliefs, friends, political views, emotional entanglements, troubles and happinesses.
All humans on the planet share 99.999999%(etc) IDENTICAL genetic stuffs. That means that although they all look very different, have different mental and emotional and physical issues, though they are of different ages and have different jobs etc, and think in totally different patterns, they're all practically the same thing. They may despise each other beyond belief, or love each other as deeply as people possibly can.
All sorts of things fascinate me. I'm often caught between deep feelings of disgust toward people, and amazement. The intricate nature of mankind amazes me, yet what people do, say, how they act often disgusts me. I feel alone in a crowd, and claustrophobic all at once. I love people for their potential, and loathe them for their flaws- And note, by that I don't mean their mistakes. Mistakes are mistakes. When you choose to be an asshole to someone for no reason, with no psychological reason in your past to back it up.. It's not right. Arrogance annoys me, though I can be arrogant. I also accept that in the grand scheme of this planet and the universe I am nothing, though.
To me, love is something you can't really explain as simply platonic or familial or romantic. Love is much more than all of that. It's all of it combined. Love is knowing someone for all their strengths and faults, their problems and the reasons why and liking them anyway. It's liking them FOR their faults, for their issues, for their very being itself. It's a hard thing to do, and exhausting when you're hurt by them. But I think it's worth it.
And yes, I am random. But I think this sums me up more than I expected ^_~ 'Til next time..
-Kat-
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