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Challenging Womxn

Today someone asked me, "Are you a challenging woman?".

It was a disappointing question for sure but I tried to give them the benefit of the doubt. I think this person might be limited in their language. Anyways, what does it mean to be a "challenging womxn?". To my exes I may have been. I have a rich history where for a while I struggled with mental health stuff. Deep serious depression followed by anxiety that would have a nigga crippled as fucked neatly paired with anxious diarrhea. I had my first anxiety attack in 2020 in my bathroom, it was wild. My heart beat was in my ear and I got tunnel vision, it felt like things were closing in and my breathing was heavy. Up until that point I didn't really know what an anxiety attack was. I would say that I'm a rather moody person, I think I have been since I was a kid but that could have been for other reasons. As a moody adult, I'm not sure I see it as a problem but my ex-partners definitely did, which is fair.

I get self conscious about it now, especially if someone is interested in getting to know me deeper. I sort of advise them against it. I once was called "sporadic" and it still hurts my feelings. My emotions can change sharply sometimes but I wonder if the men in my life ever allowed themselves to feel their feelings like me and my friends feel our feelings. We swirl and twirl all over the place and its magical. Our conversations are filled with twists and turns, we cry, and then we laugh, and then we scream, and we cuss people out, then cry again. Its therapeutic and fun. It does not feel sporadic at all. It feels like a joyous flow, that helps us map out all the various parts of us that exist all at once. We hold so much at the same time so it makes sense for it to come out in irregular intervals.

I hope I'm challenging.

I hope I' disruptive.

For the longest time, I've been afraid of mothers. If I met anyone's mother, it would immediately send me into a weird, anxious space where my breathing became shallow. No. This isn't a MILF situation, just minor panic and anxiety. I think it started with my mother. I was afraid of her for a really long time, and it evolved into disdain, sadness, frustration, and grief. Oh, and disappointment. I am realizing I never really learned what a healthy motherly relationship could feel like. I never really allowed it to happen because it felt very threatening; even with the loving mothers in my life, I found a way to separate myself from them and resist their care. I needed them to know that I was good alone and would never become a liability. I need them to see me as self-sufficient and emotionally astute. A good listener and yeah, a good listener. I needed them far away from me, not too close, because then they would be able to read me, and being read by a mother is dangerous. You can't escape them. They are the ultimate authority. All you can do is freeze in their presence and conduct a performance of servitude. Mothers scare me because I'm afraid they'll crush me. I feel like they can see all my flaws, angst, insecurities, and vulnerabilities, and they don't mind shaming me for them.

I know it's dramatic, but it's where my body goes. Seeing people with their mothers or parents at large has always been an awkward experience for me. It's rather interesting how the dynamic plays out; you see how each person perceives the other. Do they hold hands? Do they comfortably and safely bicker with one another? Are they best friends? Do they silently work on separate hobbies in the same room right next to each other?

I'm sorry to the mothers who are mothers to me because I honestly do not know how to exist. I do not know how to internalize you as a concept fully. I do, however, appreciate the love you give to me anyway.

haverst

Late night thoughts #2

cats would be so fucking upset if they understood they were missing out on the ability to lie verbally

Getting The Thing

Getting what you want is interesting. There is this anticipation built up before you hit that goal. All the time that goes by and failed attempts. You lean into the dream of achievement to help you hold on just a little longer. Frustration and the dreariness of repetition take hold until you are almost hopeless and then "suddenly" you get the thing.

I didn't know that I would be bad at receiving the thing. I got the thing and I feel devastated. I'm confused. I thought I would feel more relieved, less anxious, more accomplished but I hardly feel those things. I feel scared and only a little excited. Why am I grieving and what exactly am I saying goodbye to?