[I don't know what it is. That is or isn't inside me. That gives me that empty feeling. Inside of me. A voice said to put it all down. Pretend that it's all just a lie. When the lamb and lion lay down. Side by side. Pigs will fly. Little one.]
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #543
I went to bed on time last night, but I still woke up feeling pretty groggy. It's been like that for a while now. I know I've said before that it can take weeks or even months to recover from a sleep deprivation injury or even a small disruption in one's circadian rhythm; it has to do with the way cerebrospinal fluid clears out debris from the brain while we're out, and the fact that this cycle runs on a hormonal timer. I know that the airplane trip was basically a month of sleep deprivation and circadian rhythm injuries that I'm probably gonna need a while to recover from. The 5 days on the way back, basically constantly on the move, were also very unhelpful, I'm sure.
...It's somehow both humbling and heartening to witness my own ass getting kicked by the very same mechanics I've already written to you about. On the one hand... I'm definitely not fucking invincible, holy shit. On the other hand... it's interesting to see and experience these mechanics play out in real time, even if the results kinda suck.
…
...I braided my hair real quick, got dressed in my work clothes, shoveled some leftover macaroni and cheese into my face unceremoniously, drank a glass of water, scrubbed out the inside of my face so I could put my braces back in, and headed out the door. The 10-minute drive down the road was uneventful. But on the way in, one of the gentlemen who tends the carts in the parking lot told me he loves my beautiful rainbow owl-cat hat, and that he recognizes it now, and looks forward to seeing it.
...That was kinda nice.
I was lucky enough to have both Tr and Ka working with me today!!! I haven't seen Ka in a very long time, between the trip and her just... generally being out. It was wonderful to catch up with her, but... she's having a bit of a hard time. She has a friend, and... that friend's father, who is a black man, was found... hanging from a tree.
…
...The people involved are trying to call it a suicide. But... I'm not convinced. Given the historical context... it seems possible that it was a lynching, especially given that times are what they are right now. In the past, shortly after slavery in the United States was outlawed, a lot of white people who were very angry about it liked to get together in mobs to intimidate black people in their communities by hanging black people in trees. They'd get hanged like that for all manner of very small so-called “transgressions”, such as looking at a white woman in a way they didn't like. It's only been about 160 years since those days, and... these sorts of hate crimes never really stopped. Not really. Maybe became less common. But they never really went away, which is... more than a little bit fucked up.
...I'm not a black person. I'll never fully understand the terror of living in a world that wants me dead just for my skin color. I understand living in a world that wants me dead for my genitalia, for my sexuality, for my neurotype, and for my life experiences, and I can maybe draw empathy from that place, but... it's still not quite the same as what Ka and her family have to go through. I can kinda hide my neurotype and almost all the other stuff I mentioned (except for being female; my voice gives me away). She... can't. Not that she should have to. Not that I should have to. But the world at large is more dangerous for Ka than it is for me or Tr. So... when Ka expressed fear for her life and her children's lives because of this potentially targeted thing, and Tr tried to say that she knows exactly what it's like because she apparently fears for her children's safety every time they go outside... I gently reminded Tr that, although traffickers and random people with malicious intentions exist, it's still a lot less common than race-motivated attacks on people, and that although yes, it is wise to worry about her children while they're out and about, no one is gonna come after them just for their skin color.
Tr got kinda quiet after that. Ka... thanked me for sticking up for her. Though I wish I didn't have to. Tr is a lovely and kind human being, but... sometimes she can be blind to her privilege, and that occasionally puts holes in her ability to empathize. I have faith in her ability to learn and do better, though.
I mostly put cookies on trays and packaged baked items today. Check it out:
There was one extra s'mores cookie leftover, still warm and delicious. I remembered how delicious it was when I first tried it – back when I was using my braces as a retainer for a bit. But... I am not using them as a retainer anymore. I cannot eat the warm, gooey cookie. Or even any fresh croissants. Not wanting the warmth to go to waste, I asked Tr if I could package it up and give it to An, of the meat department. And she said yes! Picked out a suitable container and everything.
Well... I got there. And An wasn't there; he wasn't supposed to come in until noon, I guess. But Ad was there. So I left Ad with the cookie, asking him to give it to An. And... Ad said something like, “I will, and I'll let your boyfriend know that you came by.”
…
...I froze for a second, panicked. An is very lovely, but... he is definitely NOT my boyfriend. Likely never will be. And so. Like. I tried to say as much. That it's impossible, though not because there's anything wrong with An, but... because I'm not...
...Sigh. Look. I'm a chubby, awkward dweeb. I'm under no illusion that I'm even remotely desirable, and I'm not arrogant enough to think that An would want anything to do with me in that capacity. If anything, he probably thinks I'm weird and kinda dumb. So. Yeah.
...I tried to say all that. But... I was frazzled and it definitely didn't come out right, and... I probably just incriminated myself further. Goddammit.
...So I ran back to my own department, probably looking like a freaking lobster because my pasty Irish/Nordic ass blushes like crazy when I'm flustered. I buried my face in Ka's shoulder for a moment and whined a lot from the sheer level of embarrassment I felt.
I feel ridiculous and stupid for this nonsense sense of squishiness I feel for An to begin with. It is WHOLLY UNWARRANTED and WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE. The fact of the matter is, even after all this time, I barely even know An. He is not some adorable thing to be coveted; he is a human being to be known and understood, if he'd even allow that. Whether or not I am someone who could meet his needs, and whether he is capable of meeting mine, and whether he even wants that... these things have to be considered and evaluated VERY carefully. Because if you don't, then you end up hurting people. And I don't wanna do that. I don't wanna do that to anyone.
…The squishiness will NOT rule me. It will NOT be the driving factor for my interactions with An. I will simply continue to treat him with the same warmth that I treat anyone else who I happen to feel safe around. To do anything else is unfair to him. I will NOT do to him as has been done to me in the past. I won't do it. I won't...
He's a human being, not some fanciful daydream.
…
According to Tr, An did get the cookie I had intended for him. Apparently, Ad teased An, too, effectively saying, “your girlfriend brought you a cookie”. Apparently, another gentleman, Vr, stuck up for An, saying, “don't be jealous because someone wants to give him cookies and not you!”
…
I wonder if Ad is feeling left out. But... Ad doesn't usually visit the bakery like An does. So that doesn't make sense to me. Nonetheless... maybe I'll get Ad some cookies. Maybe then he won't feel left out.
I went home to find J bustling about the kitchen, making a cake, some bread, and some crackers, which was pretty rad. And... still feeling groggy and somewhat frazzled, I took a nap with J, and that seemed to help, some. Shortly thereafter, I wove a couple more wishes to life for you:
And... I guess that brings me to the here and now. Woo.
...And how are you doing? Have you put any more thought into yesterday's words? I wonder...
I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring. But... maybe instead of finding out, I'll be intentional about deciding how it will go. I hope that you, too, will be intentional about how your tomorrows go.
I love you so much. Can you feel it, even from an entire reality away...? I sure hope so. And... I sure hope you act on it. You deserve your own love. You deserve a love that is soft and kind, while still holding you accountable for your occasional bouts of nonsense. We all do. We all deserve a love that helps us become out most favorite self.
Be safe out there. Treat yourself like you matter, because you do.
sometimes this thing happens, and I don't know what it is because I've not spoken to a doctor or anything
But I'll get this feeling in my stomach, not quite adrenaline, but it's like that feeling you get when you drive over a hill too fast
And then my emotions just blank, and I feel like I'm watching from inside my body, like it's a suit or something
I usually refer to it as disassociating because I don't know what else to call it, but I'm pretty sure that's not what it is, because I'm still here and present, it's just like
different
Like I'm more or less just spectating from inside my body, watching from through my eyes
I'm still in control of my body and speech (obviously I'm typing this post out) but it's like my body is a hollow vessel and I'm just sitting inside and piloting it (Sort of like that episode of Doctor Who where Clara was piloting the Dalek)
Anyone else experience this? It happened like mid-conversation with my cousin with no warning
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I want to break my own ribs. Pry this chest open with my own big bloody hands and start shoving things inside to fill the gory cavity. I need to feed the everhungry heart-beast. I need to use up some of my great empty. But I can't do it. Not for lack of strength in these big hands nor from fear of pain (as there is already the always-ache of erosion, my cavern ever growing). I am afraid that I could fit the whole world inside my chest and it wouldn't touch the edges. That I could sacrifice every-everything and still the heart-beast would be hungry, the void proven unfillable instead of just unfilled. To be left alone with the emptiness, without even the hope of my gruesome fantasies for comfort is the one thing I think I truly could not bear.
