Another Sunday, another fight. Seems we always fight on Sundays. Usually it's Boss that's all grumpy and/or hateful. When by some miracle he's not all pissy, I am. And on the super-rare occasion that both of us are actually okay, MK will end up in a bad mood. It's reliable enough that when MK asks what's wrong, why I'm in a bad mood, it's usually enough to just point out that it's Sunday, and he knows that Boss and I have been fighting.
What do we fight over? He wants to sleep in and I don't. I did sleep in and he couldn't sleep. What are we having for lunch and when? Are we going to go work out or not? There's a mess in the sunroom. I'm ignoring him by going to play with legos. I'm ignoring him by going out looking for yard sales. I feel smothered and pawed-upon and need some alone time. He feels like we haven't spent enough time together lately and needs to be close to my physically. I'm hot and don't want to be touched. He was looking forward to a day of doing nothing, and I'm bored. I had stuff planned that I need to get done this weekend and he's asleep. I feel like I'm neglecting my relationship with MK and Boss feels I'm neglecting my relationship with him. The laundry still isn't done and it's Sunday. We need to do some work around the house, but it'll make noise and the Metamour is sleeping.
I fucking hate Sundays.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
Now Drugged for Your Protection... [Me]
My mood swings have been improving lately. I asked the doctor to set me up on some anxiety meds to calm me down. He put me on Vistaril, which is anti-anxiety, anti-psychotic, and oddly enough, antihistamine. It's actually helping more than I anticipated, though of course I wonder how much of that is because I was told it would work. The anger flashes are still happening, but more rarely, and of much less intensity. The depression and sadness are still there, but I feel a little bit removed from them. They don't seem to be as all-consuming. So that's good.
The major side effect is that I get horribly sleepy after taking it - sometimes. Some nights thirty minutes after I take it, and some nights a couple of hours after taking it. Some nights I haven't seen any problem. But I get drugged-sleepy, like nearly walking into walls sleepy. Last week, it hit me hard on date night with MK, and all I could do was go to bed. He laid nearby with me, but that was the whole date. Wow, excitement...
I was worried that it would affect my switching about. All drugs, as well as stress, seem to affect my switching about. And I'm switching less, but I am switching, and I can mostly control it. So I don't think I've 'lost' anyone, or dropped the ability to deal with my multiplicity because of the drugs. Honestly, I see the less switching as more a progression from how I was doing before finding out my dad was dying.
So I'm hoping the drowsiness will pass as I get more used to the drug. I am enjoying the deeper sleep at night, but I feel like I need a little extra time to sleep. So in theory, bedtime is earlier. We'll see if I can do it.
---
Dad went back to the hospital yesterday. It worried me; I had this flash of panic that 'this is it'. But this time it was complications from one of the meds he's on.
My daughter still hasn't been able to get free to go see him and say goodbye. I'm worried how she'll take it if she doesn't see him before it happens. She has the potential for a lot of guilt for not doing the right thing. And even though she hasn't ever been close to him, his dying will hurt her a lot more than it will me. She just feels more than I do, it seems.
I talked to Dad's wife before and after the ER trip yesterday. I ended up playing counselor for her, because she's struggling to do the right thing for Dad, to make the decisions with him and how he wants them. But his family (my family) is resisting her. She feels a lot of antagonism from them, specifically from one of my aunts. And I keep telling her to let that go, don't engage, and deal with this for Dad. The problem is, she deserves the resistance. Yes, the aunt in question can be overbearing and is known for marginalizing the spouses of her siblings, but the wife is pretty antagonistic and poisonous, too. For the last fifteen-plus years, I've avoided getting close to my dad because of his wife's venom. But he's dying, and I'll put up with her for his sake until he's gone. So here I am, playing counselor for this woman I don't like, trying to encourage her to get along with everyone for his sake.
How come I have to be the grown-up in this case? Yes, my aunt is losing her brother, and the wife is losing her husband. I'm losing my Daddy, too, you know.
The major side effect is that I get horribly sleepy after taking it - sometimes. Some nights thirty minutes after I take it, and some nights a couple of hours after taking it. Some nights I haven't seen any problem. But I get drugged-sleepy, like nearly walking into walls sleepy. Last week, it hit me hard on date night with MK, and all I could do was go to bed. He laid nearby with me, but that was the whole date. Wow, excitement...
I was worried that it would affect my switching about. All drugs, as well as stress, seem to affect my switching about. And I'm switching less, but I am switching, and I can mostly control it. So I don't think I've 'lost' anyone, or dropped the ability to deal with my multiplicity because of the drugs. Honestly, I see the less switching as more a progression from how I was doing before finding out my dad was dying.
So I'm hoping the drowsiness will pass as I get more used to the drug. I am enjoying the deeper sleep at night, but I feel like I need a little extra time to sleep. So in theory, bedtime is earlier. We'll see if I can do it.
---
Dad went back to the hospital yesterday. It worried me; I had this flash of panic that 'this is it'. But this time it was complications from one of the meds he's on.
My daughter still hasn't been able to get free to go see him and say goodbye. I'm worried how she'll take it if she doesn't see him before it happens. She has the potential for a lot of guilt for not doing the right thing. And even though she hasn't ever been close to him, his dying will hurt her a lot more than it will me. She just feels more than I do, it seems.
I talked to Dad's wife before and after the ER trip yesterday. I ended up playing counselor for her, because she's struggling to do the right thing for Dad, to make the decisions with him and how he wants them. But his family (my family) is resisting her. She feels a lot of antagonism from them, specifically from one of my aunts. And I keep telling her to let that go, don't engage, and deal with this for Dad. The problem is, she deserves the resistance. Yes, the aunt in question can be overbearing and is known for marginalizing the spouses of her siblings, but the wife is pretty antagonistic and poisonous, too. For the last fifteen-plus years, I've avoided getting close to my dad because of his wife's venom. But he's dying, and I'll put up with her for his sake until he's gone. So here I am, playing counselor for this woman I don't like, trying to encourage her to get along with everyone for his sake.
How come I have to be the grown-up in this case? Yes, my aunt is losing her brother, and the wife is losing her husband. I'm losing my Daddy, too, you know.
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Nametags [Me]
We finally got pictures of the nametags that Boss made for us! We wear these leather tags snapped onto our collar when we're around kink folk, so they know who they are talking to (if they want to). I've been wanting pictures of them for a while, and here they are!
Here are the main five that people might see at the club - Rubi, Sam, Me, Kiara, and Paul. You can see the blade and cuts all over for Rubi, the BDSM triskelion for Sam, my IDIC, Kiara's ladybug, and Paul's legos.
And then there are three more for alters that aren't likely to be seen at the club. Silent One doesn't have a tag because, really, you think it would put it on? Stephanie, Cherish, and Gracelyn are below. The symbol on the slaves' tags is for the House of Aten, which is how Boss identifies himself and his household. And Gracelyn has a purple flower.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Uncharacteristic Flashes of Anger
I'm struggling this week, more than last week. I'm definitely fighting off being depressed. And this time, it's coming in delightful little bursts of sarcasm and anger (that 'delightful' was sarcastic, if you didn't catch it). I'm getting flashes of being irrationally angry at people. And along with the anger comes a biting bitchy remark in my head that I'm just barely keeping from letting out my mouth. It would be acceptable if the target of said angry remarks deserved it, but that hasn't been true. It'll be something simple, like someone saying 'excuse me' to pass me in the hall, and I'll hear, loud and clear in my head, "Well if you weren't travelling down the WRONG side of the hallway, then it wouldn't be MY PROBLEM to get out of your FUCKING way!" It just totally out of proportion to whatever the micro-offense might be.
So I'm working hard to contain these flashes of anger, because they aren't justified, and they're about me, not about whoever I'm angry at. Oh, and I want to get angry at someone. I want to have a screaming, in-your-face, breaking plates and throwing things against the wall kind of fight with someone. Except the someones that are most likely the targets for a big fight are people that haven't done anything to make me angry; in fact they've tried to help me feel better.
At first I thought the anger was Rubi's. Anger is usually her emotion; she's a frothing pit of teenage anger. But it's not her; she's doing just fine. No, this is my anger.
The only thing I feel like I can potentially legitimately blame it on is that my father is dying. I'm not exactly sad about this. I mean I am, but it's not crippling sadness. He's been more or less out of my life for twenty years. It's a shame he and I didn't get to be friends again before he turned out to have deadly cancer in his brain. But it's not really going to change much in my day-to-day life. So I have trouble being really sad about it, except in little bursts when I'm actually thinking about it. Like now, because I'm writing about it.
So what else can I be depressed and angry about? Work's going great. I feel capable and appreciated and well-paid and encouraged. Best job I've ever had. My kink-teaching is going great, too. We just taught a Blade Play class and I'm teaching Dungeon 101 tonight. I've also submitted to teach at two cons this fall, the same ones I taught at last year. Soon it'll be time to start looking at teaching Pro101 again. Money's tight, but that's nothing new - and I can see a potential light at the end of the tunnel now that the old house is on the market. There's still a lot we need to find time to do on the house, but it's no longer an overwhelming amount. Just a few hours should do it.
The only place where things aren't all hopeful and nice are relationships. I knew all of us moving in together would require some adjustment. And it still is doing so. I don't get to spend much more time with MK than before he moved in. But I really love getting to just touch him or give him a quick hug as we all pass by going in and out. I know he's either depressed or kinda sick right now, but I don't know what I can do to help him. Boss is also in a pretty needy place right now. He needs me to be all touchy-feely-sexy with him and comfort him and reassure him that, even though my other boyfriend is in the house, he's still all-important and needed by me. But I'm so far from touchy-feely-sexy right now. I feel a huge aversion to touch right now, especially sexual touch, which is unusual for me, as is the anger. I need hugs and pats and then to be left alone at arm's reach. Which translates to Boss as 'Fine, I touched you. Now leave me alone.' But what I mean is, 'Here's a touch; it's all I can handle, and I want it to go to you.'
I am committed to both of my guys. I want the four of us (don't forget the Metamour!) to be together five years from now, ten years from now. But today, I really wish I lived by myself, so I could pout and mope and be miserable without anyone else around. And then I could scream and throw things against the wall until I felt better.
So I'm working hard to contain these flashes of anger, because they aren't justified, and they're about me, not about whoever I'm angry at. Oh, and I want to get angry at someone. I want to have a screaming, in-your-face, breaking plates and throwing things against the wall kind of fight with someone. Except the someones that are most likely the targets for a big fight are people that haven't done anything to make me angry; in fact they've tried to help me feel better.
At first I thought the anger was Rubi's. Anger is usually her emotion; she's a frothing pit of teenage anger. But it's not her; she's doing just fine. No, this is my anger.
The only thing I feel like I can potentially legitimately blame it on is that my father is dying. I'm not exactly sad about this. I mean I am, but it's not crippling sadness. He's been more or less out of my life for twenty years. It's a shame he and I didn't get to be friends again before he turned out to have deadly cancer in his brain. But it's not really going to change much in my day-to-day life. So I have trouble being really sad about it, except in little bursts when I'm actually thinking about it. Like now, because I'm writing about it.
So what else can I be depressed and angry about? Work's going great. I feel capable and appreciated and well-paid and encouraged. Best job I've ever had. My kink-teaching is going great, too. We just taught a Blade Play class and I'm teaching Dungeon 101 tonight. I've also submitted to teach at two cons this fall, the same ones I taught at last year. Soon it'll be time to start looking at teaching Pro101 again. Money's tight, but that's nothing new - and I can see a potential light at the end of the tunnel now that the old house is on the market. There's still a lot we need to find time to do on the house, but it's no longer an overwhelming amount. Just a few hours should do it.
The only place where things aren't all hopeful and nice are relationships. I knew all of us moving in together would require some adjustment. And it still is doing so. I don't get to spend much more time with MK than before he moved in. But I really love getting to just touch him or give him a quick hug as we all pass by going in and out. I know he's either depressed or kinda sick right now, but I don't know what I can do to help him. Boss is also in a pretty needy place right now. He needs me to be all touchy-feely-sexy with him and comfort him and reassure him that, even though my other boyfriend is in the house, he's still all-important and needed by me. But I'm so far from touchy-feely-sexy right now. I feel a huge aversion to touch right now, especially sexual touch, which is unusual for me, as is the anger. I need hugs and pats and then to be left alone at arm's reach. Which translates to Boss as 'Fine, I touched you. Now leave me alone.' But what I mean is, 'Here's a touch; it's all I can handle, and I want it to go to you.'
I am committed to both of my guys. I want the four of us (don't forget the Metamour!) to be together five years from now, ten years from now. But today, I really wish I lived by myself, so I could pout and mope and be miserable without anyone else around. And then I could scream and throw things against the wall until I felt better.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Doubting Days & Invisible Disability [Me]
I passed a woman on the street the other day whose arm was amputated at the elbow. And my first thought was, "It must be nice to have her disability right out there obvious." I was having a pretty negative day that day, one of those days where I'm questioning my multiplicity.
All the multiples I know have had those Doubting Days. Am I really multiple? Maybe it's all in my head, just a terrible effort at getting attention that has become so intent that even I believe this thing that's not even true. Who am I kidding, saying that different people live in my head? What am I, a little kid, talking to my invisible friends? Why don't I just grow up, take responsibility for all of my life, and quit pretending? Why do I put the people around me through this, making them participate in my make-believe? Do they really believe me, or are they just humoring me? What does that say about them? About me? It would be so much easier to just be a singleton. I think I could do it if I tried.
Now keep in mind, I don't usually think like this. Just on those dreary unhappy-with-myself days. Days when not even my alters want to talk to me. Days when it's quiet in my head. So when I saw the woman with the amputated arm, the idea of having the thing that sometimes cripples me right out there in the open, where I could see it in front of me, and not have to doubt whether it's even there or not, that was very appealing, in a way. I know she never looks at her arm and wonders if it's really there or not. She never wonders if her arm might show up if she just quits feeling sorry for herself. It's concrete. She's missing an arm. No doubt about that.
Of course, that means every time she meets someone, that's the first thing they know about her. Nice to meet you - hey, you're missing an arm! And the obligatory curiosity. I think about times when I've had a bandage in an obvious place, and how tired I got of answer questions about what happened. And that was for days, not for the rest of my life. For everyone she meets, she starts of as 'that chick missing an arm'. She has to start every relationship a few steps behind 'that chick', and work her way up to having a name and personality in the other person's mind. Every relationship takes a little more work.
Invisible problems, like mental conditions, at least can be set aside to deal with after you get to know someone. I'm a big proponent of telling people early on in our relationships that I'm multiple. And I'm not talking romantic relationships, but just people I'm going to spend time around. I don't want to hide who I am - all the who I am - who we are. If I'm going to be friends with someone, I want them to know early. But that does mean there's always the Question Phase, where they ask about why I'm multiple and who all lives in my head, and how they're supposed to interact with me, with us. Just like the girl with no arm, I have to explain my disability over and over again.
Except I get to chose when that part comes up. I can control how well I know someone before it becomes known. Can't do that with a missing arm. The cashier at McDonald's (for example) can tell she's missing an arm, and ask her annoying questions about it, right away. I do visibly advertise that I'm weird - I shave my head and wear a steel collar - but I don't quite cross that line where every stranger I meet feels the need to ask me for details. And depending on how someone reacts to that part of me being weird, then I have a clue how they might accept me being a we, and if I want to disclose that to them.
All the multiples I know have had those Doubting Days. Am I really multiple? Maybe it's all in my head, just a terrible effort at getting attention that has become so intent that even I believe this thing that's not even true. Who am I kidding, saying that different people live in my head? What am I, a little kid, talking to my invisible friends? Why don't I just grow up, take responsibility for all of my life, and quit pretending? Why do I put the people around me through this, making them participate in my make-believe? Do they really believe me, or are they just humoring me? What does that say about them? About me? It would be so much easier to just be a singleton. I think I could do it if I tried.
Now keep in mind, I don't usually think like this. Just on those dreary unhappy-with-myself days. Days when not even my alters want to talk to me. Days when it's quiet in my head. So when I saw the woman with the amputated arm, the idea of having the thing that sometimes cripples me right out there in the open, where I could see it in front of me, and not have to doubt whether it's even there or not, that was very appealing, in a way. I know she never looks at her arm and wonders if it's really there or not. She never wonders if her arm might show up if she just quits feeling sorry for herself. It's concrete. She's missing an arm. No doubt about that.
Of course, that means every time she meets someone, that's the first thing they know about her. Nice to meet you - hey, you're missing an arm! And the obligatory curiosity. I think about times when I've had a bandage in an obvious place, and how tired I got of answer questions about what happened. And that was for days, not for the rest of my life. For everyone she meets, she starts of as 'that chick missing an arm'. She has to start every relationship a few steps behind 'that chick', and work her way up to having a name and personality in the other person's mind. Every relationship takes a little more work.
Invisible problems, like mental conditions, at least can be set aside to deal with after you get to know someone. I'm a big proponent of telling people early on in our relationships that I'm multiple. And I'm not talking romantic relationships, but just people I'm going to spend time around. I don't want to hide who I am - all the who I am - who we are. If I'm going to be friends with someone, I want them to know early. But that does mean there's always the Question Phase, where they ask about why I'm multiple and who all lives in my head, and how they're supposed to interact with me, with us. Just like the girl with no arm, I have to explain my disability over and over again.
Except I get to chose when that part comes up. I can control how well I know someone before it becomes known. Can't do that with a missing arm. The cashier at McDonald's (for example) can tell she's missing an arm, and ask her annoying questions about it, right away. I do visibly advertise that I'm weird - I shave my head and wear a steel collar - but I don't quite cross that line where every stranger I meet feels the need to ask me for details. And depending on how someone reacts to that part of me being weird, then I have a clue how they might accept me being a we, and if I want to disclose that to them.
Wednesday, June 4, 2014
What Do I Say? [Me]
I'm back to work after visiting my father in the hospital. The return to routine is helping me a lot. I'm having moments of Sad, but mostly I'm just going about work as usual. Which is okay until a coworker asks me about my dad or about why I was gone last week.
My dad's gone home from the hospital. I'll call later today to find out how the adjustment is going. But yesterday he said he felt better than he had in months and was really looking forward to getting home. We even teased back and forth about whether or not he was going to tackle mowing the yard later this week. So I felt pretty good about it, until he asked me about my son, his grandson. Yeah, he thought he was talking to the step-daughter, and has us confused again. That happened several times in the hospital. So I know he's still got some real confusion going on.
I've seen four showings have happened for the house, which went up on the market like the day before I went to Memphis. I hope it sells quickly, but don't really have the energy to do much about it right now.
I have several teaching things coming up soon. We got asked to teach a BladePlay 101 class this Saturday, to fill in an empty spot on the club's teaching schedule. So we'll scramble just a little tonight to get that ready. It'll be fine. It's time to teach Kink 101 again soon. I meant to do it in late May or early June. I'm looking at late July now. But I finally messaged the venue about that to see what their schedule looks like. I also submitted to teach Kink 101 at Akai-Con again, like we did last year. And Dungeon 101 is next Wednesday.
So that means that this weekend is my 'public face' weekend. I need to be all Welcome-Wagon on Friday for the Munch, then I'm teaching on Saturday, then I'm teaching on Wednesday. I really don't feel like being friendly and welcoming and authoritative right now. I want to be depressed and petty and selfish. But once each thing starts, I'll snap into role and it'll be fine. And that's probably good for me, just not what I want right now.
So that brings me back to answering the question "How is your dad?" A lot of the kink folks know that I went out of town to see him, too. It seems a little crass to answer, "He's dying." But it's the truth. And I don't feel like softening it for their comfort. It's an uncomfortable question, and an uncomfortable answer to match. Because my Dad is dying. I'll make it through, and I'm more okay than a lot of people would be at this point. But I'm not happy. And I need to go ahead and focus on other things that I'm doing.
So if you see me, don't feel like you have to ask about my dad. An extra hug would be welcome, though.
My dad's gone home from the hospital. I'll call later today to find out how the adjustment is going. But yesterday he said he felt better than he had in months and was really looking forward to getting home. We even teased back and forth about whether or not he was going to tackle mowing the yard later this week. So I felt pretty good about it, until he asked me about my son, his grandson. Yeah, he thought he was talking to the step-daughter, and has us confused again. That happened several times in the hospital. So I know he's still got some real confusion going on.
I've seen four showings have happened for the house, which went up on the market like the day before I went to Memphis. I hope it sells quickly, but don't really have the energy to do much about it right now.
I have several teaching things coming up soon. We got asked to teach a BladePlay 101 class this Saturday, to fill in an empty spot on the club's teaching schedule. So we'll scramble just a little tonight to get that ready. It'll be fine. It's time to teach Kink 101 again soon. I meant to do it in late May or early June. I'm looking at late July now. But I finally messaged the venue about that to see what their schedule looks like. I also submitted to teach Kink 101 at Akai-Con again, like we did last year. And Dungeon 101 is next Wednesday.
So that means that this weekend is my 'public face' weekend. I need to be all Welcome-Wagon on Friday for the Munch, then I'm teaching on Saturday, then I'm teaching on Wednesday. I really don't feel like being friendly and welcoming and authoritative right now. I want to be depressed and petty and selfish. But once each thing starts, I'll snap into role and it'll be fine. And that's probably good for me, just not what I want right now.
So that brings me back to answering the question "How is your dad?" A lot of the kink folks know that I went out of town to see him, too. It seems a little crass to answer, "He's dying." But it's the truth. And I don't feel like softening it for their comfort. It's an uncomfortable question, and an uncomfortable answer to match. Because my Dad is dying. I'll make it through, and I'm more okay than a lot of people would be at this point. But I'm not happy. And I need to go ahead and focus on other things that I'm doing.
So if you see me, don't feel like you have to ask about my dad. An extra hug would be welcome, though.
Motel M is for Sale!
I posted this in my Facebook notes, but here it is again, because it bears repeating. I need to get the house sold and out of my life.
My old house, affectionately referred to as Motel M, is now up for sale! Price is $85,000 As-Is. 1212 sq feet, 3BR, 2BA.
It's a nice little zero-lot-line house (think duplex, but with two separate owners, and a bit thicker walls). It needs a little work, and would be fantastic for someone to come in and fix up, either to live in or to rent. I lived there for four years, and then rented it out to friends for a couple of years. But it just isn't arranged well for us, since two of us can't go up and down the stairs, and only the Master Bedroom is on the ground floor.
Downstairs is the Living Room, which has a fireplace in one corner, and a cute little eat-in kitchen that gets lots of light. There's an attached laundry room with lots of space for storage - we had three large bookcases in there to hold all the laundry stuff and tools and such. There are also pantry shelves over the washer/dryer hookups. Also downstairs is the Master Bedroom (12x17 ft), which has a large closet (21 feet of closet-rod space!). Also the Master Bathroom, with a standup shower and a new dual-flush toilet. Upstairs are two very large bedrooms (11x21 ft each) with angled ceilings and long closets, as well as a second full Bathroom with a standard tub. Outside there is a small back porch/deck attached to a new wood storage shed with plenty of room for a wheelbarrow, lawnmower, etc. There's one nice tree in the back yard, and one in the front.
The house does need some fixing up, within the reach of do-it-yourselfers. Inside, it needs some paint, and the carpet's old and stained. The upstairs tub runs a little, and needs resurfaced or covered by one of those bath-fitter setups. Some of the ceiling upstairs shows evidence of an old water leak (over 6 years ago). Outside, the ridge vent on the roof needs replaced, and some of the fascia outside needs replaced. Other pieces of fascia have been replaced and merely need painted.
The water heater and central heat & air unit were both replaced 2007-2008. The kitchen includes a fridge and dishwasher.
The MLS listing number is #1544712. Here are some links to some online listings for the house:
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