(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit
thoughts:

I can't stand to be in the same room with my father.  it occurs to me that life would be significantly less stressful if he would die.  I'm aware that if that actually happens, I'll feel guilty and awful - or at least some part of me rather hopes I would.  I don't get what the world's fucking obsession with fathers is.  every god damn movie makes father-son relationships all but central.  I don't give a fuck about him or what he thinks of me, I'd be perfectly happy to never see him again.

and, because I'm getting better at critiquing myself, I'm also aware that it's a hell of a lot easier to devalue him rather than to deal with the fact I feel like he doesn't respect me at all.  preemptive emotional strike.  yes, you can sign petitions to ban my future, spend all day working with a group of people in whose world I'm a maladjusted, isolated failure (and help them make that world wider all the time)...urg.  I can't even finish writing out a thought.

last night he walked into the kitchen and asked me what I was planning on doing.  "what do you mean?"  "...what are you doing with your life?"  he'd apparently somehow entirely missed that I've been registered for classes for more than a month, that I've already signed the student loans, all this shit - and I know we've talked about it, down to the amount of money I'll have leftover for books and such.  my mother knows every detail and has been well aware of all this for months.  it's not like I'm keeping it from him, he just didn't fucking remember and went into the default assumption that I'm just laying around their house in a bathrobe strewing clutter around.  90% of the time we talk it's about bullshit like some technical detail about housekeeping.  tonight I stayed up all night with the intention of staying up all day as well and getting into the swing of things before school starts, and I was going to unload the dishwasher at some point, to feel like I was contributing somewhat and just be nice.  he comes downstairs and doesn't say a word to me while he makes enough noise to drown out what I'm watching, then tells me it's too loud when I turn it up to try and hear, and the only other thing he says is that I need to empty the dishwasher before I go to bed.  I did, and by treating me like a fucking child he managed to piss all over what little contribution I was going to make, make it look like I only did it because he told me to, and make me grind my teeth at his bullshit patriarchal husband/father = general attitude.  he tells my mom when to go to bed.

the most annoying thing is that I'm reasonably sure I hate the fucker so much because that's easier than walking around crying over the approval I'm afraid I'll never get to the point I'm scared to admit I even want it most of the time.  that was an awful sentence.

I spent all night wondering if a character on the show I was watching was going to come out (I know he's going to eventually from accidental over-reading on wiki), and as soon as my dad sits down in the living room I'd rather turn it off than sit there on edge, feeling him judge both of us.  I feel like I have to hide 90% of what I care about from them and I can't ever enjoy anything or just be myself while they're around.  I want to get out of this damn house so bad, but without a car in arkansas I'm pretty much trapped.  I'm tempted to move into the dorms at fucking UALR, I had to check the website to see if they even had any.  it's $450 a month for a private apartment there, utilities included, only available to 21+, which I am, finally.  another option is $500 a month, comes with 1-3 room mates and you don't have to be over 21 to get in, so I guess there's more competition or something.  that one says it's $2250 per semester.  if I get a $2000 pell grant, like I was expecting, I could cover almost half that for free.  buying groceries would be trickier, though there are several asian markets close to campus which could potentially serve as primary food stores.  if I could get a job on campus or otherwise within walking distance all the better.

I don't know if this is doable or not, but another few thousand dollars to get the fuck away from parents and live nominally on my own would be totally worth it.

(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit
I had a dream tonight - first dream of the new year and new decade, that there was such sincerity.

when it started, I was singing - revolving weightlessly with arms outstretched, surrounded by a mosaic, thousands of pieces of glass in shades of blue, green, and purple - like floating inside an eggshell.  no words, I can't remember the melody, just that it was a deep expression of myself that meshed with everything around me.  I came up then, through the surface, and realized I'd been underwater.  there may have been snow on the ground, because I was outside in a park somewhere, but I wasn't cold or wet.  I can't even remember if I was wearing clothing.  the details may have moved with my awareness.  there were people, I either knew them or I didn't, but there was shared identity and purpose, and everyone was friendly.  I went inside a small gazebo then, inside was a hot tub and a professor of mine.  in real life we didn't necessarily agree on much, he wasn't especially popular, but he taught with conviction that bordered on ferver, and I think we had a great deal of respect for each other despite open disagreement.  he and a dozen or so guys of my own age were all dangling our feet in the circle of water, discussing something.  I don't remember what, but it was a good conversation, full of idealism, vulnerability, and trust.  I think I was closer to everyone there after that, new friendships.

next I remember two or three of us were sitting at a picnic table - outside again - enjoying each other's company and having another conversation of similar character; effortless depth and sincerity.  I remember someone on my left, as he was coming or going, referred to God as "She", and I laughed and marveled that someone else thought that way. the guy across from me echoed the view and it was as though everyone there thought it was natural and right.  from something in his manner, I knew the guy across from me was succumbing to the same sort of feelings I always have to wrestle with and hide when I share this kind of thing with another man...catching my breath after seeing another idealist, reigning myself in with the sort of herculean effort that results in speaking in whispers and avoiding eye contact, so as not to violate a gentle spirit who doesn't share the same attraction.  except that this time - finally - we both shared it, and my heart leapt up within me at that understanding.  there was a flagpole there with two flags, the lower one american, and with the sunset someone started to lower it.  about half the people at this retreat saluted, no one at my table did anything.  I yelled "Anarchy!" (something I would only do in my dreams...) and got a wave of smiles and chuckles from people nearby.  a disapproving adult facilitator of some sort said how unfortunate it was he hadn't seem more people "showing respect", and expressed disbelief at the idea of "christian anarchy" (I hadn't added the "christian", but much like real life, people I respect and agreed with had) - we all got up and I started to talk to the facilitator about Tolstoy's The Kingdom of God is Within You, and I woke up.

I realized after waking that none of the institutions I've felt forced to leave had ever excuded me in this dream, church or schools or groups of any nature.  (I've always rather openly despised nationalism, even from childhood, so it was as much a reaity and a measure of peope in the dream as it is in real life) there were real people from both places there, and it was sort of a retreat for personal growth, the distinction between spiritual and academic having not been made.  It was easily the best dream I've had in recent memory.

(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit

so the christmas party I just got back from helped me realize what I’ve been feeling around the typical clean-cut 20 something straight white evangelical male set.

it doesn’t feel like they have to work at all in social situations.

I felt like an idiot through half this christmas party, with my foot in my mouth, stuttering, not looking people in the eye or even knowing where to stand.  I’m not like that in general, but when I’m around those kinds of guys I always feel that way.  I didn’t go too far with ideological statements (my usual source of awkwardness) because I didn’t make any, I spent the whole time filtering myself to try and be somewhat acceptable company for these people.

I guess it just feels like it’s taken for granted in social situations that I’m going to be the one doing that.  like when I just meet new guys at work or at the family christmas function I’m going to be haltingly speaking a second language while they get to go on with total fluency…except it’s about assumptions and culture and gender roles instead of the actual words.  like if I expect them to listen to me communicate in my native perceptual set instead of calculating what theytake for granted, the negative response will be too strong for me to stand.  I’m sure people have written about privilege and dominance and how they’re expressed even through interactions like this.  even before I got in the car I rejected what I really wanted to wear as too feminine for what people want from me, and therefore inappropriate.  course, even with very liberal friends I spend most days completely terrified of wearing my hair in anything but a low ponytail, let alone putting on a damn scarf or a bracelet.

I mean, I know WASP guys have to have insecurities, that they surely must avoid uncomfortable levels of self disclosure all the time and worry what other people will think, but it sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.  I honestly kind of resent them for not having to choose between quietly accepting dozens of little insults (not personal, just built into the structure of social interaction itself) or speaking up and being that guy.  (this evening during apples to apples “Feminists” were defined to a tween girl as “women who say they want to help women but mostly just make women look bad.”  speak up in defense and I’m a perfect example of the annoying feminist.)

it was lots of little things like that, most of them way more subtle.  something I can’t put my finger on about the way the men and the women talked, as groups.   halfway through the party I was standing there just thinking…if I feel this out of place, why am I even here?  am I supposed to be in some big city apartment with a bunch of leftists having our own party, instead of trying to make this work?

I just sort of wonder what it would be like to just walk around being myself all the time, unapologetically.  I’m not sure I have the stamina to be that aggressive.  just standing around at this party my face was twitching and shit (my nervous system has gone to hell since I was paralyzed.) it’s bullshit that not actively filtering huge parts of myself could be construed as “aggressive” to begin with.  god I hope I’m not trans.  I’m too fond of my dick for that to be the case, I think, but socially the maleness seems a bit forced sometimes.  no one was remotely mean to me, I mean I got hugs and welcomes just like the rest, but its just so damn clear when hanging around straight christians that I’m not supposed to exist.

it’s all subtle and unstated enough I have to wonder if I’m just making it all up to feel sorry for myself, but I think there may be something there.  note to self: pay attention to conversation dynamics next time I’m in a group like that.

*sigh*  I’m glad I wrote this down.  before I started I just had a vague feeling that I was a horribly awkward person.


(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit
so I think (know) that most of the time when I'm blogging it's more or less a mating call.  it actually did work once, sort of, (sean called my livejournal posts circa march 2007 "intoxicating" and proceeded to hit on me) - meh.  I'm lonely.  I'll deal.

I was watching bones tonight, there's an episode where sweets is revealed to come from an abusive home (...actually I think over half the main characters had traumatic childhoods, maybe I'm not the only person whose immediate response to that is "hug them!") - and I find myself immediately crushing on the stupid character.  who is straight and played by a straight guy, who I will never meet anyway.  (to the show's credit the most normal and consistently supportive of the main characters is bisexual.)

I want to work in foster care/adoption.  I don't even know what that means, honestly, besides likely giving large numbers of children to nurturing, family-oriented fundamentalists who will most likely attempt to raise them to hate me and all gay people.  (dear left:  please adopt more, my fundie friends and relatives definitely put their money where their mouth is on this issue, and liberals reproduce below replacement rate to begin with...though my poli sci friend informs me I am not actually liberal, rather a libertarian socialist)

my shrink told me years ago that I identify with orphans because I feel cut off from my parents, I'm pretty sure he's right.  I'm slightly freaked out by the fact that finding out an otherwise normal adult has scars makes me find them more attractive...though I think I answered my own implied question just by phrasing that right.  (I knew I journaled for a reason.)  sweets had literal scars on his back from being whipped or something as a small child.  that makes me want to nurture, cuddle, and sex the guy.  I'm pretty damn sure that finding out someone had been sexually abused would slam down a barrier to physical intimacy of any kind (i.e. down to handshakes) like the berlin wall in my head.  I was worried, as I worry whenever I have the oppurtunity to think of myself around children, that it was somehow an indication I'm a child molestor without knowing it.  despite the fact the idea makes me want to projectile vomit.  OCD, maybe, I wish I knew what caused that kind of paranoia.  I all but carried my *large* and very old dog up the stairs tonight but still couldn't help a flash thought of "I could break her back leg if I wanted."  I do that with pretty much everything I find profoundly offensive, thinking racial slurs is something I've noticed too, it's like there's a part of me that sits around and tries to freak out and upset all the other parts with suggestions that make me doubt whether or not I'm a good person.  the racial slurs were what made it the most obvious, it's seriously like an entirely seperate person sitting in my head waiting for an oppurtunity to piss me off and shame me the most.  I'd think it was funny it didn't incorporate internalized homophobia, but I'm pretty sure my much more profound fears of even enjoying gender-inappropriate clothing and mannerisms in private and my history of extreme self doubt about ever being loved by anyone (fairly typical anti-gay myth, actually, "come to ex-gay therapy, everybody knows gay men are lonely and unhappy.")  are much more effective than just repeating "faggot" at me in my head.

the depression isn't exactly beaten, I think about self harm and suicide all the time, but it's externalized to a very high degree, which makes it a lot easier to deal with...though I'm not sure if compartimentalizing something to the point you exclude it from your self-identity is healthy.  when I'm alone it's not at all uncommon for me to say "hush!" out loud to compulsions and anxieties I pushed away from my center.  I wish it shut them up instead of just giving me the psychic equivalent of an evil-ass siamese twin.  (I doubt anyone is reading this but just in case, disclaimer:  when I refer to any of the above in anything but the first person I'm being metaphorical.)

getting back to what I originally meant to write about though...the tumblr thing, and the livejournal thing, and every other blog I've ever had - it's an attempt to attract people with pretty things, but also - by letting them into my stream of consciousness, to be really understood and then connected with on a level I've never had before.  I want that on a really deep level, and the farther I have to push it into the future the more it hurts.  I don't know that I'll ever have it, but I hope so.  *shrug*  still, what I was trying to get at - I think the reason I've been interested in being a therapist for so long (the social work thing being a "new" major, but something I first wanted to do back in 2007, therapy since before 2005) is that it involves genuine deep connection with people.  the same thing I'm looking for romantically, artistically (not that I'm much of an artist, if at all, but I include sharing things I find beautiful with others as art, even if I didn't produce them) and maybe with kids, if I'm really wanting to work with them because I identify with abandoned children.

as I just texted to my friend, pretty much everything I do or want to do is tied to a complex of similar desires, and I want to get to the core issue here.  in the same episode of bones I found out sweets has scars (note: found his wiki page up on my ipod browser - I started to think he was cute 3 days ago, the scars didn't create it they just helped) he also mentioned that booth and brenan sublimate their sexual attraction for each other into something else.

the possibility for desires to be sublimated opens up the possibility that they aren't manifesting directly with me, that what attracts me to different ideas can be widely different from their surface relevence (with sex it probably is) and maybe one need has multiple manifestations which I've considered seperate entities...

this was disjointed and probably made no sense, but it was helpful for me, and I'm not distracted by the clinical handbook of mindfulness based therapy.  au revoir

(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit

happy tuesday!  just noting more random and fairly constant twitching under the left eye for most of the day.  no discernable relationship to stress or energy level.


(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit

I'm going to start journaling potential neurological fuckups:

today I had at least one anxiety attack, both sides of my face, especially around the eyes, have been twitching, my left arm went tingly and numb while I was just walking around holding the phone.

friday night while driving to conway the right side of my face and my right arm went numb and tingly for no apparent reason, while I was completely relaxed and comfortable.  it was the first time I'd experienced anything similar.  pretty sure lots of facial twitches occured, too.  I'm not sure if the weird numbness feeling migrated to the other side of my body or not.  it may be similar to the weird intense, semi-painful waves of energy I got back in late october.

today I also had one episode of depersonalization, I think that's the right word, for feeling like my awareness is falling backwards and is only interacting with the world through layers of plastic wrap.

while describing a stressful situation to chris on the phone I started shivering uncontrollably.  over the last few months this has been happening way more often than I recall it happening before.  it also happens more often when I'm just cold, but I'm pretty sure it's stress related.

the slight joint pain continues, but it's not as bad as before I took the steroid and the left side of my face stopped being paralyzed.

---

I don't know what the fuck is up with all this.  the doctor didn't test me for lyme disease because it would've been more expensive.  I'm on the antibiotic he would've prescribed had it been lyme, so I don't know what else to do if that's what it is.

between how much geschwind's sounds like me and the fact I've always had things like depersonalization episodes, I'm wondering about epilepsy.  I'm also wondering about hypochondria.  still, it would be nice to know conclusively what exactly is going on with me.  my left eye has been twitching randomly on and off the entire time I've been writing this.  an EEG would be ridiculously interesting even if I have nothing wrong with me.

yay for having health insurance coverage again in january!


(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit
I really want to be a dad.

(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit

several observations:

1) after attempting to talk a long time internet penpal into leaving his boyfriend and moving in with someone else, I really hope that somewhere between now and the time I'm a therapist there is going to be a big old class on "what the hell to say to people in really shitty situations."  "he choked me last saturday, it burst a blood vessel in my eye."  and "he calls my mom and tells her to come get me before I get hurt" are not indicators of a healthy relationship.  there's a reason I really love dark goddesses...the furies, ezili danto, kali...Ezili Danto in particular comes to mind.

Set kou'd kouto, set kou'd ponya.
Prete'm terinn-nan, m'al vomi san ye.
Set kou'd kouto, set kou'd ponya
Prete'm terinn-nan m'al vomi san ye.

Men san màke pou li.

Seven stabs of the knife, seven stabs of the dagger
Lend me the basin so I can vomit my blood
Lend my the basin so I can vomit my blood
My blood is pouring down.

and through it the most fiersome and awesome determination.

and I forgot the other observations.  oh well.


(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit
there is an American Horticultural Therapy Association!  the combination of permaculture and social work may not be so hard afterall =D  even with my strong leaning towards mental health counseling rather than community organizing.  w00t.

(no subject)
ElkMoon
litteraoccidit
so, I hooked up with two guys just now.  however, one (a man with a medical degree who has graduated from three universities) freaked out and asked if he could just watch.  he joined in eventually but then asked us if we didn't feel horrible.  he said it just was so wrong.  we told him no, we don't feel horrible or guilty.  (incidentally the guy who didn't freak out had been the president of an AIDS nonprofit and done sex ed and various community work and public health stuff.)  we said it probably had to do with background.  I told him my parents are missionaries.  I wondered if the guy (pretty sure he was indian, from the accent) was Muslim or Hindu, turns out he's Catholic.  yay guilt and manipulation!  however, I am fluent in Catholicese, so after we talked a bit outside of the other guy's house (other guy had to leave for a meeting) I wrote him the following, sincerely:

---

http://www.dignityusa.org/
http://www.bidstrup.com/phobiahistory.htm
http://hnn.us/articles/42361.html
 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bible_and_homosexuality#Books_of_Samuel:_David_and_Jonathan
I meant it when I said you could talk to me about this.  God made you who and what you are.  if you pray earnestly to Christ and Our Lady, and I would encourage you to pray also to Sts. Sergios and Bacchus, I think you'll find what you felt so strongly about was lust, not male-male love itself.  hook ups aren't for everybody, but trying to hide or ignore or change how god made you will only bring years of pain and inner conflict.  happy, committed, well-adjusted gay people DO exist.  moreover we are as spiritually alive and close to our creator as any other group of people.
I am convinced that even as a straight marriage mirrors Christ's love for the Church, a gay one mirrors the interplay of love between the persons of the trinity.  we are made in the image of God, and what happens between two men who love each other is no less a sacramental recognition of that image than what happens between a man and a woman.  Pray with an open heart to Our Lady, our first example and strongest intercessor, and listen to what she says to you before what a priest reads to you.  Seperate the pain of the world from the true convictions of the Spirit.
I'll leave you with a quote from Servant of God Dorothy Day: "I loved the Church for Christ made visible. Not for itself, because it was so often a scandal to me. Father Romano Guardini said the Church is the Cross on which Christ was crucified; one could not separate Christ from His Cross, and one must live in a state of permanent dissatisfaction with the Church."
the priests are not perfect - and I firmly believe that the living God works through the Catholic Church, but that its teachings are not inerrant.  Seek the will of God with an open mind and heart, listen like a child, without the weight of traditions and laws between you and God, "Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven."
I honestly can tell you I feel no guilt about what I do or who I am.  the rosary I take with me everywhere was in my pocket tonight.  I sleep beneath the image of the Theotokos of Tichvin, and pray the Ave every night before I sleep.  again I encourage you to commit yourself to the guidance of Our Lady on this matter and I know she will lead you towards dignity and self-acceptance.  I'm here to talk if you want to, just text me.

---

he actually told me he was on his way to a priest after we got done.  he also mentioned it was his first time at the very end, (wow...mine was 7 years ago, and he's at least a few years older than me), poor guy.  I hope the priest doesn't mutilate his mind.

hmm, after I thought that I prayed for him and he immediately IMd me.  we'll see.

?

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