#freewriting?

[altermun]

Tuesday blahs - absolute babble. Do not read unless you’re REALLY bored and desperate.

Running is a moment of escape, but I run the same path(s) all the time. Even running outside, I'm on a treadmill. I’m running in circles, even in my own head.

I see the patterns I’m repeating. Resisting assignments from school that I don’t agree with, procrastinating a self-assigned... thing with an important deadline because I’m scared, and a perfectionist, and reprimanding myself for not doing it yet, all the while feeling incapable of doing it in the first place...

I have a poster to create. And have printed, and in my hands BY 3/9 at the very latest. I’ve written the paper that this is based on. I have my sources. I have everything done in the background. I’m afraid to present, because this is the beginning of my professional career - really. I’m pretty sure I’m the only first year doc student who was accepted to present at TWO conferences.

The first one is less of a big deal, so I’m planning to use it as practice. Kind of. BUT I HAVE TO HAVE MY FUCKING POSTER DONE IN ORDER TO SHOW UP AND ACTUALLY PRESENT IT. ><

All night my kitten and her mother were running around, climbing the box spring resting against the wall no matter how I shook it (I didn’t have the spray bottle), climbing onto my nightstand - eventually I saw Addie go to climb onto the nightstand and tried to knock her away, but she tried to cling to the thing and knocked over a mostly-empty can of drink I had sitting there.

... -sigh-

My mini-manuscript notebook that had been knocked to the floor before took the brunt of the liquid damage... luckily I had only written a couple little melodies in the thing. It still somehow made me sad.

Like trying to come to terms with being a psychologist first and a musician second. Or third. Because I’m also mother to three cats. And sometimes I worry that none of them are happy, that I’m just a shitty mom, period.

I live in a world I don’t want to force a child into. I’m terrified that my child would struggle with chronic pain, or inherit my crohn’s, or depression, or whatever the hell is wrong with me. Or what if I’d just be a bad mother? I don’t even know if I could have kids. So I’m back to this. Feeling the kittens move in Siren’s belly may have been the closest I’ll ever come to feeling that (as bizarre as it was, and as much as it creeps me out a little to think of that happening inside me, and all the things that could happen during pregnancy)... Not that I’m baby-crazy, but I’d like to have a child eventually. I also want to talk to my boyfriend about the what-ifs, y’know? What if one of us is sterile? Could he handle adoption?

I could love an adopted baby as my own. I know I could - when I was working at my last job, where I became part of people’s families for 4-6 months, I loved those children. I still think about some of them. A lot of them left marks on my heart. A lot of them changed my mind about wanting children. But if I can’t physically have one... well, maybe that’s a conversation to have if it’s necessary.

Everyone around me seems like they’re either pregnant or trying to get pregnant. I’ve watched friends’ progress - everyone seems so happy when it happens. No one gets scared - cautiously optimistic is the worst I’ve seen.

I mean I have three rules - Must have started my career (i.e. getting paid as psychotherapist/psychologist), must be married, must be planning for said child(ren). One of them is about to get off the ground, but my guy and I are taking our time with the marriage thing.

Besides, you have to have sex to get pregnant. I have no libido. Occasionally my subconscious does and things happen in my dreams, but yeah. I’m not sure I identify as simply heterosexual in my attractionality style anymore.

Of course, it could be a side effect of chronic pain, or depression... how do you tell? I get intellectual crushes on people of all genders with no sexual attraction. I don’t have a “type.” I hardly ever feel like doing anything sexual. Like I know this is a bit TMI, but sex has never been the focus of my relationship with my boyfriend, and I’ve always been grateful. I thought it had to do with the problems I’ve had throughout life with sex and sexuality and others, but I don’t feel traumatized. I just... have no interest in sex. I enjoy it with the boyfriend when he catches me at the right time, but I’m almost afraid to cuddle sometimes because what if it leads to something and I’m not in the mood? Was I leading him on? Why can’t I just be a normal person with a normal sex drive? I don’t even want to write, read, or watch about it.

I almost have an actual aversion to sex right now. I wish I could decide why. I have at least... four possible reasons. Five.

Huh. I really, truly need a therapist. I’m gonna play some piano and dedicate the rest of the day to the poster.

[altermun]

Lather, rinse, re - oh fuck me.

Okay, so I’ve decided journaling in the morning should be a thing for me. Let’s see how long I can keep this up... ha.

So I left all my heavy textbook reading for yesterday. Day started out wonderfully; I played through all of Tempest with both hands, at about 1/4 speed - maybe less, it took like an hour to get through the whole thing. Did not realize that monster is 12 pages with the repeat. Whoo! Surprisingly, though my hands hurt like little whiny bitches after I played yesterday, they’re okay, today. I didn’t wake up clenching them (my jaw, yes, my hands, no), or needing lidocaine cream (though I am taking that with me today... Quick break to toss that into my school bag... and back)

Speaking of school bags, right - left all the heavy textbook reading for yesterday, and not too shortly after I finished pianoing, a headache started to set in. My eyes felt weird. I managed to read through one of my chapters for Statistics, but I didn’t even get to touch half of the reading for my other class, which I’m already freaking out about and a bit embarrassed - the professor is my faculty advisor, and he wrote me a beautiful recommendation letter for one of my practicum sites where he basically said he thinks I would do just as well in an ivy league environment as I am in this school. I mean, sometimes when I’m confident I like to think so, but really? The last thing I want to do is disappoint him. I hear he’s a tough professor - but thorough. Two of my professors appear to be nerds like me, and excited about their subject matter, and the other two I a) haven’t even met yet, and b) hear fantastic things about. I have hope...

I’m scared though. My headache yesterday got so bad I went out in zero-fuck windchill at 6:00pm to get ibuprofen, which I’m not supposed to even take because of my crohn’s, and come straight home. I managed to eat, but I was then so nauseated I was afraid to move, and fell asleep watching quiet South Park with an ice pack on top of my head.

I’m bringing ibuprofen with me, and I bought way more than I hope I ever need, but I’m now nervous about first day back. I know I can do this. I got through first semester with all A’s... This semester’s classes are actually - well, two of them are relevant (psychopathology and personality change, and evidence based practice), the third (statistics) is always relevant but should be particularly helpful this time around, but the fourth is probably a waste of my time.

I’m still a bit on vacation brain, having trouble remembering everything I need to do before I leave for classes today... but for now I’m packing up my computer and brain and starting with feeding the mewbles.

[altermun]

That feeling that you’ve somehow pissed off all of your friends... Even though you’ve barely spoken all day, and they’re probably in the middle of something. Or, just, actually doing something... while you’re curled up on the couch in your bathrobe wanting to go to sleep, but you’re not tired, and it’s too early, and you have a headache and you just want to fucking feel better... But it won’t stop, and you can’t stop. So you look at yourself in the mirror and remind yourself you’ve been through worse. ... You shouldn’t have relented then; you won’t, now. It’s a chess game, and in the end, you know you’ll be the one with the smirk pulling at your lips. “Zugzwang.”

[solanumm-blog]

the sea sees a rock worth wrecking and wears it down over the years people aren’t like that people shouldn’t be like that your waves lap at me with all the anger of Poseidon and I am not faultless in the eyes of a cruel god born of a wicked tongue, mind games the red hot touch of a poker, sharpening fingernails on the brickwork, avoid puncturing my skin, because those half moons remind me of a tremor, I can see the fault line cracks in the mirror, put there by a malignant fist, a network of something more than worry, more than pain.

[ricewinesake]

How clear and sweet her voice Yet her words one blow after the next Beautiful darling light Help my ribcage be full, And stop smashing it with your lyrics of humanity I beg you, Sister to take my hands Who's voice mists over the world with dew Drawn from the welling tears on my lashes Sister, take my hand The voice you break my heart with is not enough To make your grace cement itself in my jaw Sister, tell me he will find himself Before your songs fade The heartstrings your bow strokes Are on the guitar of our souls He is out of tune Sister, will love be enough Your songwords make me the shadow Of your stories, tell me Will singing with you give me your courage?

M. R. Leslie

[dateswithlesbians]

And I have been there before I have felt my hands freely touch the world in places so intimate I have seen rivers deeper than  I could ever hope to swim but I have swam them. I've been lifted beyond what we know.  Met with the Buddha, Mother Mary and Osho.  I have met the world with such pleasure !!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I FEEL NUTS MEOW