Renaissance Faire

All right, so this is interesting. Nightengale is a big RenFaire fan, she loves those things. There's a faire coming up in autumn that she wants to attend, and I with her. She's been trying to get me to a faire for years, so I figured why not?

"Oh and you have to dress up!" She tells me. Woah, me? Dress in medieval garb? I can speak the lingo (thank you, Shakespeare), but I was really unsure of going. What good am I going to be at a ren faire? But then I thought that it might actually be fun to do something so out of my comfort zone.

"What kind of costume will you wear? I'll help you make it!" She is an incredible seamstress. But who or what would I be? I don't really care for the long skirts and layers that are required of women, I prefer the clothing that men get to wear. Its simpler. But wait! An idea came to me. I could dress as Arwen. The first time we see her in Lord Of The Rings, she's wearing a riding outfit. Pants with a flowing top that extends to the knees. Its lovely and something I could wear all the time if I wanted.

This isn't something I'm comfortable doing, but I suppose it would be good for me to go out of that zone I'm forcing myself into.

Long Battles

Today was a bit harder in therapy. Doc is always gentle, though today she was firm as well, like a parent teaching their child to swim or ride a bike. They have to push a little before the child will have success. That was today.

Last week, I gave her permission to be more direct, that she could ask or steer the conversation to places where I normally do not go. I feel that I am my own worst enemy because I'll divert the conversation or beat about the bush, as they say. This afternoon, Doc took advantage of that and said she was thinking about something I'd said last week.

"You said that sometimes you miss self harm, what did you mean by that?"

I must admit I was very close to telling her to back off, but in all honesty, its not the worst question she could ask and it was one that desperately needed answering... for myself. All of my siblings are addicts. One's an alcoholic, another is a drug addict, two are addicted to their own misery. Me? I worked very hard to not be a junkie, not be an alcoholic. Look at me now. Addicted to self harm.

I know a few out there ( okay... probably more than a few) will disagree with me, and that's fine. That's you. For me, injuring is an addiction. When you're stressed out, pissed off, in emotional pain, or feeling numb, do you have something you say you need? "I need a cigarette, I need a hit, I need a beer". I tell myself, "I need a tool." I hate thinking that I'm an addict, I hate it! But there is no getting around that fact. It is what it is, I am what I am.

Hells bells, I talked more about self harm today alone than I have in the whole of the time I've been seeing Doc. This tells me one thing that I hadn't really wanted to think about: Its going to be a very long time before I am no longer seeing her. It took years for me to get this bad, years to go from one method of injury to another, years.... Its going to take a while, maybe even years, to get myself "normal", or at the very least to conquer my addiction.

Am I up for that challenge? A few months ago, maybe a year ago, I would have answered "I don't know." But right now? I've fought all my life to survive. Its what I do, its how I function in this big, bad world. Its all I've ever known, and its exhausting.

I'll tell you this... I Want To Live. There are so many times when I should have died, when I could have died. Yes, that implies I had a choice and made the right one.

So here we go, its going to be one hell of a long battle, but I've fought this long. I'm worth it.

Not So Great Morning

Its been a week since the last post. Today, I'm feeling pretty much the same. I'm exhausted after falling asleep after midnight and waking at 5.30am this morning. My tummy is rumbling, but I have zero desire to eat. I have to copy all my music to my computer again. I tried doing it a fast way, using the flash drive to transfer the music. But guess who didn't know that you need to save this to a separate file as well? Yep... me!

Now I'm pissed at myself for being stupid. I'm also mad at Mum for giving me step by freaking step instructions on how to make spaghetti sauce! I've only been making the same recipe for about 20 years.

I have therapy in a couple hours and just want to scream. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin, I need to harm. Its like a damned drug in my veins. I just really want to injure... I'll try to hold off for a while. Talk to Doc.

Get To The Point

Had a session with Doc today. I think we may do things a little differently for a bit. I don't really go into things that matter for about half the session, then we have to cram. I told her that she may start asking more direct questions. I need to get things off my chest and take too long to get to the point. I've decided that to make the progress I feel that I should, I'll let her direct more.

For instance: Today we were about half way through the session when self harm came up. I know that I need to get going on this and I think allowing Doc to ask more direct questions should help. I'm not going to do the whole med thing, so its either talk it out or not at all. And that isn't an option.

Never Fear

So I went to karaoke this evening. I wanted to test if I was the anomaly when it comes to drunks. But this is Valentine's day so that means people are in fancy restaurants with their loves. That means no one wants to spend the holiday in a pizza joint. Any way... the point is there were no drunks. Seriously I think the group of people I hang out with are the problem, they engage and seemingly encourage the drunks. Its like they want the attention, I don't.

My mother was afraid for me, she didn't feel comfortable with my going alone. Now if I would have told her that there would be a group, she would have been fine with it. She fears so much and pushes those fears on me. I've been called a great many things, but fearful has never been one of them! I refuse to be counted among that lot.

I have never been afraid of a man, nor a woman. There are a several things that I've been called: bitch, crazy, maniac. Never fearful and never stupid. Now I may be crazy and a maniac at times, but I refuse to live in fear of going out my own front door.

Seriously??

I went to fix the coffee for Mum and Dad, so they just have to turn on the pot tomorrow. In the pantry, I noticed a slip cover from the anime I just purchased. There are only two ways that it could have gotten there. Either I put it there, or my mother did. I'm sure it was in my ROOM this morning. Either that or the trash. So my mother had taken it out of the trash and put it on the pantry shelf. (The garbage is nearby. Its the pantry/laundry/etc.) Either way, she took it with the intention of having a little chat with me about how she feels its objectionable.

Lets male one thing very clear right here and right now. I am going to be THIRTY YEARS OLD in July. Thirty! She seriously cannot be doing this anymore. I hate that she watches B-rated sci-fi flicks, I find them annoying, and often vulgar. Add to it that they always make women seem to be idiots and you have a film I hate. I don't go badgering her!

To avoid the issue, I took it back and have every intention of disposing of it away from my house! Its so stupid that I have to do this. She already made me throw away Live Free or Die Hard. She didn't like that words and phrases such as "son of a bitch", "damnit", and "bastard" were in it. Its not like it was every word or anything. Beside, I am an adult. I can make decisions for myself. Now I have to hide things.

I'm now concerned that she will read my journal. The handwriting is terrible but there is a possibility that the odd phrase could be discerned. This is a risk I am unwilling to take. So... I will have to hide my journal. I don't worry about the computer. Its password protected and she's tech stupid anyway.

If I'm very lucky, she won't remember where she put it and will be unwilling to ask me anything about it. It'll just vanish and the anime will not be easily found so she won't be able to check the spine of the disc. I seriously hope that I don't have to start locking my damned door again.

This set me off. I've been fighting back the Fury and the Abyss for weeks. Now? Now I just want to give in and injure. I seriously have been trying hard, but the last few weeks have been hard to handle for so many reasons.

I don't feel good enough, like I'm not the person I should be. That I should be happy, there isn't too much fucked up with my life. But the depression never goes away and things like this just push me so close the edge. I want to harm and be done with it. I know full well it won't help, not in the long run, but that isn't important to me right now. At this moment, I want to feel semi-stable.

I really did not need this. Thanks, Mum...

Assertive vs Bitchy

What is it about me? There must be something that makes freaks and drunks think that I am willing to be touched or talked to. So here's what happened: I went karaoke with some friends handed my songs to the KJ (karaoke jocky). A drunk was "dancing", if the moves he was making could be mistaken for dance, and kept backing into me. Thinking he didn't see me, I pushed his back *between the shoulder blades and no where near his ass* to let him know I was there. His response? Oh to come closer of course! I pushed again. Third time? That isn't a charm, its a "I will kick your sorry back side from here to the curb!" I shoved him away from me, pressing my fist into his back hard. That was the clue he needed.

Next, I had finished singing my first song, one that I am rather good at, thank you very much, and I received some adoration from another drunk. "You were really great, I love that song and you were amazing," he tells me. I thank him, trying to twist out of his awkward side hug. "No, I mean it,you were great!" I look him in the eye, "Thank you, now stop touching me." He backs away, apologizing for trying to be nice.

This is what amazes me. When a man says 'no' or 'back off', he is being assertive. When a woman does the same thing, she is called a bitch. When she tried to be polite and then has enough of a man's advances and tells him in clear English to back off, she's called a tease or a tart. WHY IS THIS OK?!?!

I really am getting sick and tired of being told that I need to be nice and whatever only to have some drunk ass bastard start thinking that I am being a flirt. Honestly, I do not engage the drunks, ever! They have lost all ability to think clearly thanks to the effects of alcohol. Apparently, my ignoring them is considered a challenge, one that far too many are all too willing to take on. When I make is abundantly clear that I have no desire to be touched, I'm called a bitch and made out to be an unfriendly woman.

I'm nice, I'm friendly! I just have zero tolerance for stupidity and drunks.

The whole thing made me so angry. Beyond angry, I was ready to slam my fist into the next person that laid a finger on me. Instead, I went to the bathroom, made sure I was alone, and slammed my left fist into the wall. Now my knuckles are bruised.

I love hanging out with my friends, even if it is in a situation that I find difficult. I find this is good practice for me to maintain my cool and not bloody panic. Sometimes, I even have fun. But seriously? It would be awesome if the drunks would leave me the hell alone and not think of me as a challenge.

While I'm thinking about it... why don't my friends ever seem to come to my rescue as I do them? I'm always alone. Always.