Being Sick Is An Excuse: Episode 1

Being sick is an excuse: Episode 1

I get migraines with auras ( mine are sparkly lights and blindspots) He made me drive to get him beer after I came home from work early with a migraine. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I did it. And the completion of the task showed that it really wasn’t that bad. I needed to stop over reacting.

4am Musings

Is childhood inherently traumatizing?

Self care, I have discovered over the past 7 years, is really fucking hard.

Sometimes self-care is, actually, NOT getting onto the computer and little treats and watching youtube videos. Sometimes those things are self-care, but sometimes they're also avoidant behaviors.

Sometimes self care is waking up and just. Fucking getting in the car. And driving to the bank. And the store. And buying the cat litter. And changing the cat boxes you've been avoiding because your brains been stuck in a hole. And picking up the trash you've been piling up. And getting a load into the wash. And mowing the lawn before the village council sends you a formal complaint and potential-fines warning.

Like its hard and annoying to do because it sucks. It sucks so much. But if I don't start working on this pile of bullshit I've let build up because it stinks and i was stuck in deer-in-headlights mode, I risk letting it turn into fuckery. I do not have the patience for fuckery that I once - foolishly! - thought I had.

I don't think compassion for your abuser is necessary, nor is it a reasonable expectation of abuse survivors. But it might be good for some survivors. It's possible to be compassionate without reinserting yourself in someone's life.

What you need could change throughout the years, and it could differ wildly from what someone else needs at that same moment in time. Situations that look the same aren't necessarily.

*Incoming metaphor, sorry* Healing from abuse is a twisted, vine-y road covered in thorns. You just have to figure out how to make your way with as few injuries as possible. That could be with a machete, or pruners, or some cautious, thoughtful navigation. Or some mixture of the 3.

I don't know. I'm still figuring it out myself. What I do know, is that anytime anyone's tried to tell me what's good for me, it's been starkly in contrast to what I needed at the time.

The Recloseted Lesbian. Compassion

Over a year ago, he got into an accident on his motorcycle and was in the hospital for more than two months. I found out by googling his name. Yes, I still do that occasionally, maybe once a year; I can't explain why succinctly.

When I first saw the GoFundMe, I nearly donated. I could see that it was set up by a 3rd party, so I could donate anonymously with strict instructions that my identity was not to be revealed under any circumstances.

However, I waited. I credit healing and therapy for this. I asked myself a few questions:

Knowing him like you do:

Do you think he appreciates the donations he's received so far?

Do you think he's saying nice things about the people who donated lower amounts?

Do you think he's being appreciative to the girlfriend he has that facilitated this and is undoubtedly taking care of him right now?

Do you think this kind of experience would change him for the better? Or would he use it as an excuse and motivation to be worse?

Do you think he would appreciate any amount from you?

Do you feel you financially owe him anything ever again?

Does he actually need this money?

Each question had the same answer. So I put my credit card away.

Support Character - Part 1

When we were teenagers and I was still living at home, he worked very hard to get me to play Ultima Online. It's an online RPG game, similar in style to World of Warcraft.

Silly me, I thought he wanted me to participate in something he enjoyed. Of course not, he wanted me to play healer.

That can be fun in some scenarios, but of course it wasn't here. I didn't get any input on quests, areas or achievements. It equated to me following him around everywhere, and clicking the heal while he played.

I was in the support role. It was all about him. It was to be the theme of the next 12 years of my life.