shoreline

[prismaticbleed]

 

I should update, I suppose... I apologize but my memory is not doing well at all, and I've been sick for the past few days (the hives and nausea are back too). I haven't been feeling too hot since my surgery in any case, and I just got word that I MIGHT have to get another one soon. Lovely.
Anyway that's not something I want to dwell upon. I'm tired and want to sleep, but I need to stay in the habit of writing things down here.

Oh, I didn't talk about Tuesday yet, did I? Great, that gives me a point to start from.

As you may or may not have known, I saw my therapist for the first time post-surgery this Tuesday morning. However, since I couldn't drive, my mother accompanied me-- straight into the therapist's office. This was something we both felt was necessary (I am not good at self-disclosing information unless someone "pushes the right buttons," which she is great at, and I am thankful for it) and I had been trying to orchestrate for a while; unfortunately the ONLY reason she finally caved was my sudden resurgence of self-abuse.
That session was interesting. She talked for 85% of the time, which I really didn't mind, except that she kept redirecting the topic to herself-- I didn't mind that either, the poor woman is under a disastrous amount of stress and needs to vent too, but my therapist didn't look happy about it-- and almost ran us over the allotted time as she just kept talking. Mum has a bad habit of saying WAY more than is necessary but who knows, that could have been a big help for the therapist. For example, she kept going on tangents about home and family life troubles for her, as well as snippets from my childhood: all information that the therapist HAD asked me about, but which I either had no memory of, or did not see as important. She shocked me a few times by insisting on "important" bits of info that I swear never happened; I expressed this but didn't question her memory: she's an obsessive scrapbooker and photographer, and probably has most of my physical life documented in one form or another.
A few things stood out like a bonfire in a snowstorm, though. The first was her breaking into sobs at the very beginning of the session because of my self-abuse. Baffled, I asked her why. She explained that, as a mother, she "blamed herself for not being good enough to prevent it from ever happening." I told her that was silly, she had nothing to do with this and should not feel at fault for any of it. She then told the therapist that I had "started cutting for attention" after my brother was hospitalized in 2008, a very shallow assumption that I IMMEDIATELY called her out on. My mum kept making weird accusations, though. She then began repeatedly asking if I was cutting "because of my father," and when I said "no" she switched to my grandmother. I stopped her and clearly pointed out a truth that I honestly should have mentioned a LONG time ago-- I don't factor other people into my decisions like that, especially not where self-abuse or psychological health is concerned. Although I understood that her accusations were based on who she would blame, or at least deem blameworthy, honestly I couldn't care less what either my father or grandmother did and I sure wasn't going to harm myself over them! I then had the guts to explain WHY I even started cutting-- slashes were "acts of atonement," while biting/ bruising/ other blunt abuse was "sensory purgation." I went into a little more detail here (and you guys can review my recent entry on that same topic here, go figure), so hopefully that helped both her and my therapist get a better grip on the phenomenon as it applied to me.
To go back to the "other people" bit, though... as the self-abuse topic continued (now to include my eating disorders), I again had to state that I frequently didn't consider "what other people would think" about my actions, because I didn't see why they should be concerned. I was having a problem, therefore it was my cross to bear. They should be concerned with their own troubles. My mother then started to cry again (taking me entirely by surprise), shouting that she was the exact opposite, and that apparently my brothers were ALL expressing concern for my condition to her?? That blew my mind; if they were upset by my behavior, why didn't they tell me? Why didn't they speak up or at least show that they were concerned? She said they "didn't want to make it worse," which makes no sense to me at all, but there it is. All I could do was express this, while adding that I did understand that she held that point of view even if the behavior itself confused me.
There was one other instance where my mom broke down in tears: she was talking about my "talent" and expressing her complete frustration as to why I couldn't hold a job or get through school. She said I was the "perfect example" of "a fine line between genius and insanity," and that she just wanted me to be able to "function in society" at last. I told her that I was trying, not only to get a job and finish school, but also to move out, and to my surprise she insisted that I couldn't, that I was still such an obvious mess that she KNEW just as well as I did that I "could not survive on my own" in my current state. So that was unexpected.
Also unexpected was an event near the end of the session, when my mom suddenly reached behind her chair and brought out a plastic bag, with something in it. She was holding it secretively, and defensively declared to the therapist that she knew I "wouldn't bring this up of my own choosing," so she was going to, because it was a "huge problem." That's when I realized what she was taking out of the bag-- it was the black-painted Celebi doll from this horrific entry. In a shocking contrast to my typical demeanor I flat-out began demanding that she put it away, even saying "don't you dare take that thing out of there with me in the room." No matter how sternly I ordered her, she refused, so I actually got up and left the room. I'm serious, I was shocked at my own behavior! Even more baffling was the fact that, immediately upon sitting down in a waiting-room chair, my body began shaking violently and I felt as if I was going to vomit. Laurie showed up ghosting and asked me what the heck was going on, was I okay? I briefly explained the situation to her before adding, with a dry laugh, "I knew I should have burned that thing when I had the chance" (it had disappeared the morning after I had initially planned to to so, and this was the first time I had seen it since then). Laurie told me to calm down, that thing couldn't hurt me now, and she sure wasn't going to let it if by some off chance it did try. I thanked her but apologized, as I felt awfully sick and shaken up, explaining that I didn't know why. She said I just had a lot to deal with that I was refusing to acknowledge. Around this time my therapist called me back in the room, though, so Laurie had to leave. My mom apologized as well as I re-entered (trying to stop shaking and showing very closed body language in spite of myself), saying that she really did feel that needed to be mentioned... and then she asked me if it "had to do with the nightmares."
Nice move, mom. Quite an ungraceful segue into the most abhorrent topic yet: my sexual abuse of the past. She viewed those incidents as "nightmares" and I had to clarify that they were more "hallucinations" than anything. I was deliberately giving as few details as possible, while being afraid that she would present the info in such a skewed manner that my therapist wouldn't believe ME when I tried to discuss it in later sessions. Again she tried to put the blame on my dad or grandmother, and-- feeling utterly exasperated and somewhat angry (mostly for Julie's sake; she's been through more shit than I EVER will be and I wasn't about to let her pain be ignored, especially not by me)-- I said no, it was ENTIRELY an internal phenomenon, although there were "outside triggers everywhere" and that I "could not run from it, ever," which is what made it so traumatic in my teenage years.
Now I have no idea how the conversation progressed exactly, but somehow, my mother DID respond to one of my statements with "was this what Julie was involved in?" I paused, feeling both terrified and incredibly relieved, before responding "yes." Beautiful; the floodgates were open now, and I was now forbidden from lying or bending the truth. Thank God! Anyway I then explained that Julie had started her life as an "introject," saying how that anchor point had become irreversibly corrupted over the years until it "snapped back" and became a very, VERY angry person that matched the equally angry (but much older) voices in my head. That is all obviously simplified to extremes, and of course I was NOT giving any headspace details away without being explicitly asked, but I made sure all the basic details were explained as plainly as I could.
Then my mom did something that made this session the best therapy session I've EVER had... in front of a therapist, she asked me who the "other people were," because she remembered some "other girl who was a lot nicer." Now blissfully oblivious to judgment, I asked "do you remember a name? Hairstyle? Color?" When my mom said no, I asked "was it Natalie?" Maybe, she said. "Was she a kid?" "I don't think so..." "Was it Lynne, then?" "Lynne, yes that was her." Bingo! Smiling slightly, I added "Yeah, she's super nice. She's still around." My mother exchanged a meaningful look with my therapist then, which I find hilarious in retrospect. Once again I do not remember the flow of this conversation, but something was said that essentially asked "is it just those three," and I responded "no," before counting on my fingers the other members in order-- Spine, Josephina, Nathaniel ("he died a LOT"), Waldorf, Leon-- then my mom cut me off and exclaimed "do you see what I have to deal with? I can't handle this." I apologized and said that I didn't even bring it up at home unless explicitly asked, but she said that wasn't her point... her point was that I was "psychologically exhausting," and that oftentimes she simply could not be around me even if she wanted to help, because there was "too much going on" and she could no longer deal with even testing the waters anymore, so to speak. I said this was fine, that's why I kept it quiet. Surprisingly she said "no, it's NOT fine," and that this is why she demanded I be in therapy right now; she was tired of "always feeling like she had to have all the answers to my problems." I immediately spoke up here, well aware of this old complaint, saying I didn't WANT her to "have all the answers," that wasn't why I brought up my concerns! I simply wanted to discuss things as we were now-- throwing out questions and concerns, answering them logically and quickly, moving on to the next, etc. I treated even my own state of mind scientifically and wasn't looking for sympathy or coddling. I wanted someone to pick my brain with me, using trial-and-error to narrow down our options until we reached a tentative, testable conclusion. Once again, my mother turned to my therapist and said "see? I can't deal with someone who thinks like this." (My mother is a very emotional, sentimental being-- I tend to be the opposite in these matters). I said I didn't expect her to, and would never want her to feel pressed to do so (which was why I no longer asked her to help), but this didn't seem to alleviate her nerves much, so I guess she needed a different response. I didn't know what else to say though.
Now, for this entire session I had been speaking with either a poker face or a slightly bemused expression. I was sitting still, treating everything calmly and logically, with no actual shows of emotion. Why do I bring this up? Because, just moments before our therapist declared our session time over, my mother asked about my headvoices again. She wanted clarification on Julie, was she still evil? I said no; true, she had used to be the "bane of my existence," but-- struggling to summarize that entire insane chain of events-- she had been manipulated badly, ultimately chose to "switch sides," and now we "got along pretty well." My mother paused, still thinking, and questioned, "wasn't there another bad headvoice?" I said no, why do you ask? She said, "because I remember you telling me about another one." I shrugged, but then she added... "wasn't there a real punky-looking one?"
I honestly fell back in my chair, grinning more widely than I'd ever consciously dare to in that office, and laughed. "That's Laurie," I admitted. My mom asked, "Wasn't she a troublemaker?" I grinned again, gaining enough composure to sit back up straight, and responded "not really, but-- well she is a troublemaker, but not a bad one." I couldn't stop laughing. Thank God my therapist said we were running out of time, because I was hopelessly unprofessional at that point and it was getting kind of embarrassing.
So yeah! That was therapy. This Tuesday's gonna be interesting, haha.
Oh!! She also mentioned Mr. Sandman very briefly (as my boss, too)!! I'm just super-glad that she recognizes his importance in my life enough to remember him, let alone mention him at all. So that's awesome.

The rest of that day was spent chilling with my mom due to her schedule being too busy to leave me off at home-- we stopped at my natural food store so I could buy soap and toothpaste for the next month, then drove another half hour to a different city entirely for a court hearing, then went to a library I'd never visited before (they ACTUALLY had Gaiman's Sandman comics and stored them in the adult non-fiction section, I want to hug whoever did that), and lastly went shopping at her behest, only stopping when I reminded her that I hadn't eaten at all that day, I felt like passing out, and it was already close to 5PM. We were home at almost exactly 7PM and I was too damn tired to do much but collapse at my computer, haha.

Wednesday and Thursday are all but nonexistent in my memory; I have no idea what happened, save for the late nights-- Tuesday was with Laurie (business but pushing it for once), Wednesday was with Chaos (and lots of blue Christmas lights, it was oddly inspiring), and we'll get to Thursday night in a moment. Today's been a sickness-tainted blur but I DID get a random compliment from a fellow student at my college who recognized me on another site (we had taken the same health class last summer), saying (since I had mentioned I was in an art slump) that I shouldn't try so hard to create "perfectly"; he had faith that I'd get right back in the swing of things if I just took it easy for once, as I struck him as a "very unique and intelligent person." That made me smile AND gave me enough motivation to turn on my other computer and at least try to work on some music for the first time in months. It's still on; I'm honestly too tired to do anything tonight but I WILL put more effort into it tomorrow-- I despise weekends (no solitude or quiet time in the house), and that just might give me enough relief to get me through this two-day interim without having another depressive (or, God forbid, suicidal) meltdown. They ALWAYS happen on weekends if I don't watch, which is horribly ironic because there aren't any self-help hotlines available on weekends! I'm fine by Monday morning, sure, but what about Sunday evening, when I was standing in front of a mirror with a bloody knife again? There's no one to call or talk to when THAT happens... just Laurie, and my boss... and honestly if I'm that far gone, they are just as inaccessible as everyone else, myself included.

Anyway, sorry for that awfully morbid topic tangent (those need to stop).
Last night was pretty great? Let me say something first, though... I haven't spoken to Infinitii (or anyone else) about this yet, but the more I ponder it, I think that I am a different person during different times of day? LITERALLY so, not just "oh my mood changes." I think I have TWO "selves," maybe, and the "real me"-- the White one, the heart-based one-- is the one that only comes out at night. If there is a Red consciousness in me, it's the daytime persona I wear... and honestly that theory makes so much sense it's kind of creepy. That "Red" me would be the "lingering individuality" that stuck to ALL of my old personae, the oddly unchangeable qualities that seem to spring up entirely unwarranted whenever I'm awake during the day, but NOT FRONTING AS WHITE. That is the BIGGEST and most important distinction here: when it is out, I am not conscious. The Red "me" can literally be nose-to-nose with a mirror, taunting and laughing at itself, when suddenly I will "snap to attention," and I'll have no idea what I'm doing, other than a vague awareness of the preceding moments. IT IS NOT ME. It is completely independent, it has a mind of its own, and it frequently stands at odds to me, even in spite of its own best interest-- it just likes to rebel. The problem, though, is that this "me," this Red stranger, is the face that the world sees, and learns to love... but honestly, I've never really felt safe around that side of myself. Sure, it's happy and expressive and bright, but it's also manic. It's the "me" with boundless energy, a quick wit, sparkling enthusiasm, and bottomless creativity. It faces obstacles and risks with a grin, it believes it can do anything, it takes nothing seriously, it is never afraid of judgment or scorn. But it's also completely independent, outright REFUSING all relationships as they "tie it down," and it HATES to be tied down. That seems to be the only thing it outright despises... attachment. It wants to move. It wants to run and sing and laugh and break all the rules it wants, all in the name of living life to the fullest, but show it the slightest hint of restriction and it will BURN you... that is, if it doesn't shatter first, and pray to God that it does.
The... the deeper me, the "White" color I hold on some quieter, truer level, is different from that "me." It loves rain and snow, not fire and wind. It loves quiet thoughts, not loud shouts. And it loves people, not things. But it only comes out during soft, fading, "unreal" moments... those first few minutes in the morning, and those last few minutes at night. Play your cards right, and it might even stick around for an hour or two. But never more, not if it is forced to get up and move... not if it is forced to interact. THAT'S the problem here, THAT'S why I keep feeling tied to Red. I cannot be White when I'm downstairs. At least, not yet... if it's even possible. We'll see.
All I know is that Red is female, and White is male, as far as appearance shifts go. I also know that there is something deeply frightening about the Red... and I don't want to have to fight it for my own life anymore.


I don't have the time or knowledge to speculate further on that now, though. I want to recap last night before I forget it, and before it gets too late.
As you probably know, I've been mostly inaccessible emotionally lately. Chaos confronted me about it last night, and I said I was aware of it, but couldn't solve the problem from that same analytical mindset. Since it was getting late we were hoping for a 100% switch into poet mode or something, so that we could break it, but... it happened very unexpectedly, instead. As usual, time makes no frickin' sense during the evening, so I'll say the things I remember. One, I recall asking Chaos to talk in his "native language" if possible, and him actually doing so mentally, in oceanic sensations? It was incredible because the dialogue was LITERALLY untranslatable-- it's a known fact that Chaos speaks more in emotion than in thought, but I didn't realize he could get THAT abstract, yet paradoxically clearer than any words could get. Second, at one point he either touched my face or my hand, and I FELT it. That's when my armor broke. Third, it was shattered entirely when he noticed me doubting his entire existence again and told me to look at him-- and I swear to you, I DID see him, more clearly than I EVER had. I didn't just see green, I saw BLUE along with it, and... well, I'll admit, as it sunk in I literally started sobbing... physically, too. All that lost love just crashed into me, and I was gone, man.
Point four is, uh... hilariously personal? I don't like talking about what we do when we get "romantic" because it's very intimate for me and it's also very weird to anyone who doesn't know us. Let's just say that, um... my weakness for fangs goes a little further than I thought it did, and I blame Laurie for making me fond of pain in the first place. Chaos just succeeded in making it much worse. For the record, don't go near my Heart Jewel at all unless you're Chaos, because it makes me incredibly vulnerable and unraveled if you even touch it and it's kind of embarrassing (I can't help it man that resonates). He is the ONLY person allowed to drive me over the deep end that way, but he pays for it in full, because then I get to do it to him, and he's just as sensitive, hehehe.
Point five is that when Chaos literally dragged me up into another snogfest (I will tease us both about that forever), I decided "you know what, let's actually try a Jewel-Link since we're this far gone; we haven't had one in far too long." Boy let me tell you I had no idea what I was getting into. It was INSANE. I think I made it WORSE by being so emotionally distant; we got it leveled-out quickly enough but getting it to top took a while and if you've never experienced that, let's just say you will lose your mind from the buildup. When we finally got it to loop I swear, ALL I could see was rainbow confetti for like twenty solid seconds, LITERALLY. Please pardon the capitalization and other over-enthusiastic emphasis on this subject, but that was something else and I just want to make sure I don't forget it!! We had a second one because "why not" and I was so incapacitated by the time we finished that I don't even remember the process, haha. Geez.
Oh yeah, uh... then Chaos suggested I go share that with someone else, who had apparently been asking for me, since I had been so unavailable to everyone upstairs lately?
Long story short, a few minutes later, I ended up in Ryou's room.
He was at his laptop when I showed up, closing the lid somewhat when I fully appeared (babe what were you doing), but surprisingly happy to see me. I briefly explained to him what had just happened, mentioning what Chaos had said as well. Ryou looked down sheepishly and said it was true, but that he wasn't sure how to bring it up. Sadly I don't know what we said that led up to this next part, but... he asked me if I remembered our "favorite place" from when we were kids, and with a mischevous smile I said "this?" and literally warped us there.
Now I will put money on you readers not knowing this: back when I was 12/13, Ryou and I would always hang out on this small "bridge" overlooking the ocean in Domino City. We would just lean over the rail and watch the water (and/or sunset), talking about life, enjoying being together. We loved how free we felt there. Now, standing there again after so many years, I asked Ryou why he wanted to be here now, of all places? He said it was simple: what we had back then hadn't faded over the years, despite all the stuff that had come between us. Sure, back then the most we had ever done was hold hands and hug, but he was the first person to EVER call me "Jewel," at that very spot... and it was also during that time when we had both admitted (blushing like the schoolkids we were) that yes, we did see each other as more than friends. No matter how you looked at it, it was an important spot, and he wanted me to realize the significance of it STILL being that to him. It was around now that I realized just how clearly he was coming through; I could practically see him, and his voice was unmistakable, despite not having heard nor seen much of him in a very long time. Grinning, I apologized and started running my fingers through his hair, surprised at just how thick it was, and making him laugh as well at just how amazed I was at all this. We talked for a while longer, reminiscing and reflecting on the strange but incredible truth that we both still cared about each other so much after so long. But at one point I asked him if we had ever tried something close to a Jewel-Link? Shocked, he asked if that was even possible; he didn't have the right biology for that. I said he had a Soul Form; that was close enough, I'm sure I could make it work... and besides, I really wanted him to experience something like that, as it meant a lot to me-- and I mean a LOT-- and, let's face it... he deserved to have one with me after so damn long, seriously.
So, uh... I got it to work? We had to move into more unstructured headspace to do so, but it worked. It was somewhat different than a typical one, as I was now working with an energy core instead of Power Jewels, but it was still really beautiful. Hilariously enough, Ryou was somewhat dazed, rather euphoric and completely shocked afterwards-- "you mean THAT'S what they're like??" I laughed and said yeah, now you see why I prefer those to anything else when it gets serious.
Long story short, everything went better than expected with that situation. I was incredibly burned out physiologically after everything though, so after talking a little more I apologized and warped us to Central headspace, where I think Laurie showed up and worriedly offered to walk/carry me to my room (for like the third time this week, I've been a mess)? I was fading too quickly though, but to a rather disconcerting extent, and I surprised myself by repeating the old "if I die tonight, guys..." thing for the first time in months. THAT scared Laurie a little-- "the heck is going on, are you okay?"-- but honestly I could barely think or breathe or talk, and I think my body just shut down a few minutes later.

I woke up this morning in the expected "relationships? what relationships?" mode, and I've been stumbling through the day and trying not to vomit since then. Good times.

We are worried, though. Tar is creeping up on me VERY fast at night now, like it used to. I only have a very tiny window of "safe time" before any headspace in my immediate vicinity begins to completely collapse. If you have never witnessed or been a part of that, thank God for it, because it's scary as hell. Point is it's happening FAST now, sabotaging the precious time period at night where I can talk to people in honesty, and trying to infect whoever comes near me during that time as well.
Boss avoids that when it happens, as he can't prevent it-- he can only try to protect me within dreams, but (as he's said before), if the disturbance comes from within me, he can't stop it. Laurie can, but it's very hard for her to find me when headspace itself starts warping around me. I'm wondering if the only person with any power in such a situation is Infinitii... and I haven't had either the guts or the heart to ask him yet. Honestly I'm too scared of what I'm doing to him, or what I might do to him, even unconsciously. I'm scared of our overall relationship right now. It's too deep, too twisted, too complex, too close. I don't understand it at all. I don't understand myself, when I'm inside that bubble. I'm not sure what to do.

I miss my daughter. I typically only see her on Saturdays now. I feel like such an awful father... but it's for her own good, it's for her own highest good, to stay far away from me when I'm this sick.
I don't ever, EVER want to hurt her... and that risk is too high now, some days.

I will heal from this though. I must make that a promise now, during this moment of rare lucidity and determination and trust. I WILL rise from these ashes, loving and alive, no matter how dark it seems some days.
At heart, I know who I am. That truth doesn't change. It doesn't ever change.


...Well. My grandmother's radio LITERALLY just started playing "Mister Sandman, give me a dream..." and I think that's a VERY loud sign that I need to sign off and get to work!

I'll probably see you guys tomorrow after the awesome Homestuck shit inevitably goes down. It's inevitable.
Who knows... maybe it'll even have the answer I need right now.





Evenings on the route
These riders harbor doubt
Down to sigh and sink into the crowd

This night is room to grow
A chance to carry home
Swear this busted soul will come around

He wants to be your friend
He wants to be your free spirit
He wants to be yours

He wants to be your friend
He wants to be your free spirit
He wants to be yours
he wants to be yours

To leave this cold behind to find
A better point of view
To walk along a different path
And wind up next to you

To be alone with all guards down
All lost on in a dream
It's now or no one
This heart is off to set a spirit free

We weren't made to be down.