Finding My Own Path 🌳 (Fellow travelers welcome)

@NoneTheWiser
Thank you, still adjusting to meds, and been switchy and foggy lately.
How goes it in your neck of the woods?
-Crow

There is something in my heartbreaking.
I don't know if it's the medication change. (adjusting)
The therapist (Stepping it all up)
The fog of the medication change or dissociation.
DID itself.
Trauma triggers all around me.
The shit with my sister.
The stuff with the little traumatized girl.

But... I feel as though I am Alice falling down the long black hole with random pieces of myself all around me and all the others in my head occasionally here or there.

Who am I? What the heck is even going on?
We don't know? I don't know?

-Probably Crow

@WalkingCrow Sitting with you if that is ok. You are an amazing human being. 💕

@hillsideblues
Always welcome to come to sit with me, even if I don't know who me is at the time.
How are you?
-crow

@WalkingCrow I am doing ok! :)

TW (Maybe? No idea. Probably though)

I am tired.

How many times do I plan to start an entry with those words? I guess as many times as needed I should really come up with something much more clever. The meds are hitting, and life is going as it should. I have people to respond to and I cant always feel my face. Also Switching.

I got bitched at the other day because I dont support Marxism. Legit the person didnt even ask why just got pissed about a comment I made about not wanting to buy a product. Im too fucking messed up for my political leanings to be another thing for people to take jabs at. I dont care anymore, burn the whole place down.

I mean it. Ill light the match, just finish pouring out all your gasoline because Im too tired to light a match twice.

Im so fucking over it. Im fucking over people and their high and mighty beliefs they dont even understand. Im over the judgment of this or that, Im over the people assuming Im an ally or a hater. Im over being called a Fem Nazi, Over being called racist.

Im over people who dont answer me, or make an effort to reach out. Im over people who make my issues all about them, or theirs all about me. Im over people who hurt others for no other reason than they feel like shit. Im over people who feel guilty and feel the solution isnt to do anything about that but instead to pick out and find people guiltier than them so they can feel better.

Heres a pro tip, maybe whatever you feel like shit about isnt even about you. Maybe you should water that garden.

Im over not having anything to say, Im over having shit to say and not saying in.

Im over feeling the need for you or anyone else to understand me.

Im a goddamn lit match, mishandle me and watch that kindling you think is shelter explode and eat you alive.

I am tired of mental illness, tired of trying to figure out who I am. Tired of trying to figure out what day it is.

I dont care anymore. I kinda want to see you succeed. I kinda want to watch you burn it all down in the name of something better. I kinda want to see your face when it all is smoke and ashes and were sitting bathing in the sun of starvation, admiring our chains.

I kinda want to laugh. Laugh so hard my throat bleeds at your idiocy. Your ignorance has surpassed annoyance or irritation and is now something you wear as a fashion accessory. You polish it like a participation trophy that makes you immune from looking at your own flaws. You think its brilliant shine will deflect from the blood on your hands.

I kinda want to see it fall, slick with all that blood. Shatter as it makes a brilliant sound, see you scrap at all its pieces, and finding your reflection in each piece.

I kinda want you to succeed. I dont care, I have my own shit to handle, and its enough.

I am tired of not being enough, tired of you thinking black is white, white is black, and dirt is sky.

Fuck it, let the graveyards be playgrounds for the immortal age. Let us all join the immortal age and the flavor text of our headstones will say They were more wrong than I was

-Probably Crow

I started writing the first chapter of my book. No idea if I will do anything with it. The description is a pretty plain one.

A journal like experience of Dissociative Identity Disorder, and C-PTSD. Where time blurs, jumps, dances, and reality does backflips. A collection of poetry, notes, journal entries, and letters of a single mind containing more than one identity.

I scribbled out some memory I hadn't thought about in forever about nearly drowning as a child and being saved by my sociopathic cousin/adopted brother at the time. He watched me drown for a bit before deciding to save me. It's really not high on the trauma scale,and I'm not sure why I even remember it except I did nearly die (though there is a lot of those I don't often remember) I think it has more to do with him watching me drown for a bit before deciding to save me. He was right there and only had to reach out but the look on his face of consideration was so plain and curious and devoid of actual caring. My brain registered it and tucked it away as though if I survived remembering it was important.

Too bad I never really used it as an excuse to examine him further at least not that I recall. I saw a picture of him today with a little girl who is technically my God Child (I've never met her) despite being named God Mother (weird story there) anyway I suppose that's why he is on my mind.

I wrote an entry for my therapist about my rapid cycling lately. No idea what to do or write... or even if I am doing anything I should be...

-Crow

TW (Trigger Warning) (Massive Trigger Warning)

I can't breathe.

I feel like every second of my suffocation is being watched while people peer over my shoulder judging how I suffocate.

​​​​​​I feel like people are more interested in watching and giving pointers on how best to suffer gracefully.

My PTSD wraps it's thin fingers about my neck and squeezes. There is so much pressure I pray for my eyes to pop out.

Help I can't breathe.
My vision has gone black and I feel numb.

I cannot feel my face.

Here lately when I have sex I want his hands about my throat.

I feel fear flood me and I want him to hold on tighter.

When did I become like this?

I can't breathe, and we aren't even having sex yet.

Just the thought of him brings that smell to memory and it wraps about me like a warm comforting blanket.

I think about that other one... that other one... and that other one... those other ones...

They pushed her into a ditch and laughed? She said, she said.... She says nothing now.

To me it was more gentle, They were blacked out memories on a canvas bleached white and made new.

When I had sex for the first time it was on the floor with the door open and the boy I loved who loved to beat me more took a nonexistent virginity with a truck stop condom. I married him for the favor and he did it again and again.
And tried to kill me.

He bought me such pretty apologies, with mirrored love letters and made art from everything. Inch by inch he carved his name into my soul until it was whittled down into nothing. Then he blamed that nothing for his losses.

I was his loss, his wasted effort.

I think of him and them and them, the sociopathic one with red hair, the Irish racist who married a black girl? I am so confused. How does one accidentally marry a clan member?

I think of the smiling faced quiet spoken one who leapt off the cliffs drunk and survived. I cannot remember the times he?
Oh no my memory is....

Filled with wild onions and popsicle dollhouses.

I am on a slide, a slide and breaking... My thoughts are broken...

......
-Crow

@WalkingCrow You have been in my thoughts. 💖

Still alive (TW maybe?)

I ended up changing therapists, my symptoms got worse, and I caught the worlds longest stomach flu. >> I sunk into a funky depression, and haven't had the energy for much other than signing on and attempting to do one path a day. Seems like I even flubbed that up at some point! But for a while there despite it all I was keeping it up.

I have blood work tomorrow morning, and I haven't mentioned this but I am terrified of needles. No idea why I've had guns put in my face and been fine) But you show me a tiny little butterfly needle and the feral comes out real quick! It's not even the pain, I'm fine with pain. I've been tatted! And well dealt with a lot of pain, but seeing that needle sink into my vein just freaks me out and I go wild. Last time though I told the people I had PTSD and they handled it a lot better. In the past, I've just said I don't like them, and I get an apathetic response no matter how much I explained it wasn't a normal dislike. PTSD people somehow understand better so I'll give that a go and see if it works again.

I have missed writing here. I have an online journal I write in but I feel more comfortable being able to let my guard down here. I miss the people here, they are awesome. I'm not back at 100% but I'm giving it a go. This new therapist seems to be struggling a bit in her personal life, but at least acknowledges that and has mentioned an actual appointment. It's a little rocky because god forbid I just want a smooth ride with a therapist for like the first week to get me in the groove, but such is life, a mess for everyone so I'm holding on hoping it works out.

-Crow

So ... here's the thing... Sorry maybe?

I ended up with Covid, have a secondary infection that sent me to the ER. More trauma stuff, more trauma stuff, more trauma stuff. Went off the deep end, had some DID issues... Tried to get back on the horse but can barely sit up (chest infection) Bottomed in the deep end, thought shit was getting to a place I could come back and write and work on myself, then found out I could tunnel further into the deep end.

And I lost this place, and a lot of other things that was keeping me healthy. Partially because it was a struggle to be alive, partially because sitting up still hurts my chest, and causes breathing problems. Partially because I didn't know what to say, and a little bit because I wasn't always sure who I was, or when I was.

PTSD is being a real bitch, and I don't like it.

Positive things I am attempting but not sure of. NaNoWriMo, starting a blog, and getting back to work on this site.

I have a lot to write about... I am also really tired, and unable to do as much living as I'd like. Most of my day is taking medicine and sleeping.

-Crow

@WalkingCrow Welcome back - I hope you feel better soon

@mytwistedsoul

Thank you! I've missed this place, a great deal.

So... I committed to a bunch of work which is going to make me hyperventilate into a paper bag every ten seconds. O.O

By January I have committed to writing two books. One YA novel, and one for Story Vault. Setting up a website with a blog, and beginning to release my first graphic novel. Since believing in myself is about as easy as .... well I suck at it. So much so I have consistently self-sabotaged for years despite talent. I've decided to give it a try and just throw up a few times, and maybe fail or succeed who knows. Either way, it's a good idea to put myself out there as a social practice.

Meanwhile, I am still kicking but fighting this secondary infection. I have started a diet and made it to the park the other day without needing the inhaler. And I bought Valhalla. I made a list for Turkey day. (some really interesting things going on around here grocery lists and panic) lol

There is still so much going on I should write about, but right now there is just so much I guess it's easier to ease into it. My head hasn't been in the best place, and I want to try to hold onto any positivity I can hold onto.

Meanwhile, PTSD is difficult to handle right now. At the store today I found myself standing in a blind frozen panic, unable to speak or move. But I think focusing on the positive and accepting PTSD and its new expressions is the only way through.

-Crow

@WalkingCrow You have been in my thoughts. It is so good to see you writing here again and I hope it helps

Those novels, blogs and website sounds so amazing and creative. You are really talented. I hope for a quick recovery from that secondary infection ❤️

@hillsideblues

Thank you! I've missed you all and been wondering how people have been.

I'm going to have a mental breakdown. =-=

I've been told that I am a racist horrible person unless I change my main character in my book to white. I don't know how to explain that, that just isn't okay with me. I can't just flip her skin color like it's not attached to her body or person or apart of who she is. Don't get me wrong it isn't who she is, but it's apart of who she is. And I don't have time or the want to write a new book... and I don't want to only write for female, pansexual, white main characters.

I thought I was doing this the right way. This character came to me, she is telling me her story. I reached out to black authors, to black lgbt groups, and more because I know damn well I am not black and black has meaning and so black voices need to have their say about a black character specifically black lgbt voices. The story isn't even about her being a black lgbt girl it's a fantasy with a talking raccoon she just happens to be lgbt and black and yeah that comes up but it's not all about that. It's about her finding herself and that's part of it, and faeries.

I have to write a novel in a month... It was supposed to just be a whimsical fun adventure... *cries* that's what I loved about it... now people want to see it... Want it publishable... and I'm a racist at the same time.. *vomits and hyperventilates at the same time*

-Crow

@WalkingCrow Hey Crow :) I'm sorry this happened - it really sucks. There will allways be someone who feels they need to throw that word around. And I think that it's your character thats's telling ther story - she shouldn't have to change just because someone thinks she should. ON a lighter note - a talking racoon huh? It sounds like a really cool book :) Maybe the raccoon could be white :)

@mytwistedsoul I'm sorry Crow - I didn't mean to make light of what you're going through. You put alot of work and thought into your story and to have someone say that to you - I can't imagine the pain it caused you :(

@mytwistedsoul
Oh don't even worry about it, it made me laugh out loud!

I think it's a spiritual upset I'm feeling because of the social climate. It feels like no matter how open or kind, or understanding I try to be, or how hard I try to educate myself I am always going to be treated like an asshole. Which granted I am sure I am ignorant on many things, we are all ignorant of many things. But I miss the days when people could just converse I guess. It's like the Something Else meme's from the Native community.

When CNN labeled Natives "Something Else" They took to social media and made fun of it, and embraced it and used their resilience as a way to educate and heal. I'm not trying to compare that single issue to every other single issue out there, I'm not even talking strictly about race issues. I just feel like it's hard enough for people who aren't mentally ill, let alone those of use with severe mental illnesses,

Why do people have to attack everything and everyone? It feels exhausting. I don't respect it but I am starting to see why when people get older they can get more racist or sexist or religious or whatever it is. Because it can be so exhausting to just exist without a tribe or without just saying fuck it... I don't care if I'm right or wrong anymore I don't have any more energy to spend on trying to educate myself just to be told I'm a piece of shit.

It's an abusive relationship between peoples. And I don't just mean on one side or the other. I mean on all sides. And to top that off I'm a social outlier as it is not going to lie, so meh. >>

I just unloaded on you, I'm so sorry lol
-extra hugs-

@WalkingCrow I think that once upon a time people were allowed to have different opinions. Now in the spirit of all inclusivity - anyone who doesn't share their views is excluded. Technically they're doing the very same things that they're accusing other people of. It's really sad to see the way that things are going. How the group think and herd mentality have basically turn everyone against one another out of fear of being caught on the wrong side. Not everyone is going to like everyone else

It is tiring! It's like you have to be so careful with everything - what you say and do. Like your book - this shouldn't even be an issue. It's your book - your characters - if they want it different then maybe they should write their own book and then they can make it as PC as they want

With everything that's going on right now - the masks - the social distancing - Idk - those of us who had trouble socializing before - just got worse at it. Now we have even more to worry about - yay!

LOL! No worries :) unload all you want - it's better then keeping it in

My name is Avalon and I am hijacking this diary for my own until it's being used again by the host. I'm not entirely sure what to write here, but I find myself agitated more and more lately by expectations. Jack is constantly acting like a manic child and I used to be able to decompress while out by talking to Kitten but even that has become a trigger for internal chaos. Kitten is a mutual friend of our system but due to Jack's childish behavior, I am stuck avoiding this person lest I trigger some sort of drama. Which leaves me alone at the park with stray cats.

I don't mind strays but I'm no longer allowed to fall asleep at the park or even leave without prior permission. I am expected to keep others inline while we deal with this new researcher which may or may not take our case. The host is perpetually in crisis and to be frank, I could use a drink, but there in again I am not allowed to drink either. As noone appears to be writing here, it seems like a safe place to let out my annoyances.

I have also not talked to a shrink before. What does one say to a shrink?

Avi

@WalkingCrow. Haven't see you around. Just wanted to say youve been in my thoughts and I hope everyone is ok