improperlyhuman: (Default)
My mom just called me. She made a bunch of apologies for a bunch of stuff, but apologies don't really mean anything to me so most of it kind of went in one ear and out the other. That's a curious way to put it since a large chunk of everything people say to me goes in one ear and out the other...

Anyways, she said she wanted to be back in my life. And I said ok. So she's going to be calling me.

I'm not sure what prompted this. She did say that she's been wanting it for some time, but she also thanked me for taking in my sister, and I wonder if helping my sister made her decide to call.

So this is what's happening with me in the moment: 

I was kind of at a loss to say anything and expect to be so in the future. A long time ago, I subconsciously decided to minimize what I say in conversations with my mom to avoid encouraging interaction, being misunderstood, being pissed off, and getting the tiniest bit attached to talking to her.

This is one of the ways in which I have curbed my spontaneity to live up to my idealized image. I now know that curbed spontaneity has ramifications beyond what I imagined. It's a way to very gradually begin self-destructing from the inside out.

I worried that this would be awkward.

Though it was not difficult, I had to fight off my instinct to withdraw. I hesitated before I consented to increased contact. After I got off the phone, I began to worry about getting too attached. Too attached to my own mother! Wow.

So I've had a headache on and off for like the past three days. My metabolism seemed to suddenly rev up around the same time, so I thought the headache was caused by undereating and/or not eating soon enough. But I ate a ton over the last couple of days, and that barely helped at all. I wonder if the noise/stress is the cause.

I can only wonder. I've hardly ever been able to actually sense noise causing me headaches, even though I'm now sure that noise has so often been the culprit.

My insomnia has rapidly worsened. The fam leaves in about six days. I got a new contract yesterday evening and need to hold myself together.

A couple of days ago, I suddenly had a taste/idea for a double carb dish: potatoes and rice. It's been very satisfying. I think it would be better would white rice, however, but I don't have any and perhaps shouldn't dare eat any. I don't want to repeat that elevated blood sugar episode I 
had with the sushi rice...last year, was it?

I'm gonna go make some right now.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
Today I went into the kitchen and found my sister using my seasonings on a huge pan of dead chicken parts. Disgusting.

She actually listened to me for once and applied for unemployment. Great! She'll have gas money so she can go back to living in her car (which she is supposed to pick up tomorrow).

I can't take it anymore. I was in my room with the door closed trying to do stuff for my course and was continually distracted, mainly my nephew. I won't let them screw up my career. The apartment is too small and I'm too sensitive to noise. The apartment smells nauseating because of the junk food they cook, and they're creating a trash problem.

I'm stressed out over my sister's repeated poor decisions, but I'll be able to forget and relax once she's gone. Out of sight, out of mind. Today I found out how she got behind on car payments: blowing money on motels. Exactly what I told her not to do. I can't keep worrying about someone who doesn't listen; my own mental health is at stake. I'm going to lay it all out for her tomorrow.

I got in a nice long ride this morning, my first long ride breaking in my new saddle. Considerably less groin pain, but my butt was hurting a bit. I hope that's only because I'm not used to it.

I haven't decided whether I'll go to bridge lessons tomorrow. I'm on the verge of getting 1–2 new editing contracts, and the combination of work, school, exercise, psych self-treatment, familial stress, apartment hunting, and insomnia (I'm not sleeping again) is not going to leave me much time or energy. I'm not even interested in bridge.

I'm upset with myself for saying that I'd come this week. Disappointed, I guess. And even though I know it wouldn't be a huge deal, I really don't want to call and say that I won't be coming. The person who taught me last week went on vacation, so I'm not even sure who I'd call. I'd have to look up the other number, and I can't remember whether I was introduced to the other contact person.

Going to bridge wasn't terribly helpful. I went in there and I kinda started faking again. I wanted to skip all the small talk and just get down to the game. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of going? I went for social contact. The problem is that I don't really want frivolous social contact, but that seems inescapable with most people.

I've come to see the importance of disentangling neurotic issues from neurodivergent/personality type fallout issues. Neurotic issues can be solved by changing myself. Fallout from just being different (which I can't change) has to be dealt with via careful social navigation. That includes being selective about the situations I put myself in.

This evening, I read the chapter about the patient's role in Self-Analysis. According to Horney, my 3 tasks are

free association
recognizing neurotic trends
changing

I think I'm also supposed to fulfill the analyst's role, which is discussed in the next chapter.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
Today has been a discouraging day. Right now I'm slowly getting over being pissed at not being able to workout because my sister and nephew went to bed early in my living room (my workout room). Now my lifting schedule is messed up, which is particularly problematic given that I'm still just getting back into it (so missing one day is a biggish deal).

I was talking to my sister about her situation and plans today when something in my abdomen started hurting. It was like I was literally worried sick. I found out that she has some very shaky plans (not going into the shelter, putting off starting her new job and relying on help from social services while spending all her money to get her car back, and waiting to get subsidized housing, which has nothing to do with her housing problem) and has not been applying for apartments.

I was gobsmacked when I found out that she hasn't been rejected for bad credit for years. What the hell has she been doing??? She's been homeless with a stable job and sufficient money, yet she hasn't been applying for apartments? Now that I have specifics, I'm even more worried that she's going to keep screwing up and end up homeless for longer. I'm afraid I'm going to end up housing her for her stupid decisions. She doesn't listen!

I tried explaining things to her today, but I doubt I made much of a difference. What I really want her to understand is that she has been messing up royally. I told her that I was planning to move soon, so she said that she could live in her car again if things don't work out, but where is she going to get gas money if she doesn't go back to work and spends everything she has getting the car back?! It's like she's not thinking.

I thought I was doing well given all the noise they make, but I can see now that it's just slowly and unobtrusively wearing me down, like being near traffic all day wears me down.

Suddenly the drain was clogged. Suddenly a zillion flies are in the apartment. Why?? I don't know what they are doing. It kills me to see her feeding my nephew nothing but trash. He's overweight, he's gonna end up with diabetes like his grandparents or hypoglycemia like me or worse.

I told her she didn't have to cook and to just stop giving him sugary drinks and buy some canned beans and peas. She said she wants him to have something filling before school! What the hell, she thinks junk food is more filling than canned goods/??!!!!!!!> Who is this person?? He eats Doritos every day, and they are getting smashed into my goddamned carpet. Doritos are filling? Cookies are filling? This is poor ppl shit right here.

This is insanity. I don't need this stress right before my course starts.

Although I'm not dwelling as much as before, I find myself coming back to  negative emotions caused by ugly situations with other people. I decided to keep posting on this forum as an exercise in not withdrawing, but I'm not enjoying myself too much. I'm not even posting on the main forum anymore, just trolling the spam section. It's good for lulz but when I get irritated with someone, it seems like it's just not worth it.

Someone who has posted dumb racist-sounding shit was talking to some other idiot in the chat section, and I was just so...frustrated. I've been trying to find some kind of enjoyment in other people, and it's not working.

They say to avoid talking about stuff like politics and religion, but why would I bother with someone I couldn't talk to openly about important topics? I don't understand how people get anything out of that. I'd always have in the back of my mind the knowledge that I have to sensor myself to avoid an argument. I kind of do that now, in fact; that's why I keep the trolling informal and discourage people from getting closer (denying their friend requests helps).

I have little compassion for others' limitations. I thought, maybe I'm just externalizing my lack of compassion for my own limitations, and if I can be nicer to myself, I can extend that to others and like people more. I don't know if that's true, but I guess I have to try it. The alternative is too bleak to turn to without trying something else.

So that's what I'm supposed to be working on now: self-compassion. I dislike the very word "compassion." I don't know how to do it; I still don't know how to deliberately change the way I feel. Other stuff I've "worked on" seems to just be changing by itself, without any conscious effort. 

Oh! Speaking of. Today I was thinking about kissing this oh-so-attractive person I found on OkC yesterday. And this is a new thing and a big deal because I used to not be able to do that, or rather, I used to unconsciously prevent myself from doing that, supposedly to reinforce social distance.

So I'm doing ok when it comes to being kinder to myself in terms of accepting my want (need) of an intimate relationship. (I kind of don't have a choice because the need has been nagging at me for some time and won't go away.) But I'm still not nice to myself when I make mistakes or get carried away emotionally. That's what I have to work on. If I can "accept" (I hate that word now) this in myself, I can "accept" it in others. That's the hypothesis anyway.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
My sister lost her car. She lost her car. And the friend she was staying with kicked her out. So now she's staying with me instead of on the streets. In my tiny apartment.

Not only did she lose her car, she didn't tell me about about it for days, so now getting the car out of the pound will cost "thousands" of dollars. In other words, she may never get it back. I don't know what happened, why it got towed away. I told her to prioritize the car. It was her home.

All this started cuz our good-for-nothing mother burned down an apartment and destroyed my sister's rental history. Permanently, it seems. How many major mistakes can a person rack up in a single lifetime? My sister is a hardworker and has had a stable job with decent pay for years now, yet no one will rent her an apartment because of our leech of a mother.

She was leeching off my sister at the time, living in an apartment she paid not a cent for, she leeched off my sister after the fire, and now I hear she may be leeching off our other sister. She can't support herself. She knows almost nothing about the job market, has hardly any work history (all minimum-wage jobs), and has a felony on her record! Moron. She wouldn't even go get help with her resumé when she lived three blocks from the employment department.

What kind of person is this? She probably couldn't work anyhow because of what she's done to her health. And I'm sure she will act completely helpless when it comes to applying for social security benefits.
improperlyhuman: screenshot of Apocalypse from X-Men: The Animated Series (apocalypse)
Been in a badish mood. After making subtly nasty remarks to me for a month or two, some creepy, irritable lesbian randomly decided that I'm not a lesbian. Then some annoying weirdo...I don't even know, maybe English isn't his native language or he has a communication problem. Time to get off the Internet. Trying to like human beings is self-cruelty. Why did I ever try to do this??

The irritation du jour is people making up random little traits that they then decide are human traits (which of course they can't back up). Especially when they say that human beings are "hard-wired" to do something. You just know someone has swallowed too much pop science when they use this phrase. It isn't even a good metaphor; there is generally more than one way to wire a circuit to produce the same functionality, so the "wiring" isn't exactly responsible for the behavior.

On top of dealing with those people, I've also become worried that I'll scare people away by seeming mean. Teasing people is one of the easier, more automatic ways I interact.

So today I decided to look for something, anything in town I could do involving other people. Lo and behold, free bridge lessons downtown. So that's gonna be my Thursday nights until I move away from here. I'm committing myself to it in words here because I tend to drift away from all things social, even if they aren't unpleasant.

This gets worse before it gets better? Or is the "worse" actually just my feelings of frustration and overwhelmedness at how much it seems I need to work on?

Somehow I ended up watching Youtube clips from the movie What's Eating Gilbert Grape? And I looked at slim, teenaged Leonardo DiCaprio and I thought, "I want slim thighs." And then I felt bad. I've been eating like a horse since I re-started exercising  and I'm concerned that I'll just get bulky again. I don't want to be bulky and I don't want chubby thighs.

I hate my goddamned parents. I know that the way my body is is partially their fault. When I was a baby, I refused to drink cow's milk, so they gave me orange juice. I bet that's why I'm hypoglycemic, at least in part. And the hypoglycemia forces me to eat a whole nother meal each day to avoid waking up with night sweats. Then they proceeded to feed me junk throughout my childhood, very few vegetables or fruit. 18 years of stress surely didn't help. I tried to lose weight in grammar school, received no support, had no idea what I was doing, tried to live on 700 calories per day, and no one even noticed until I was too weak to stand up for a month. I was allowed to leave the house for school and band functions only, so I never got exercise. I tried to do things right in junior high, but my dad wouldn't get me the gym membership I asked for. I tried to get them to buy healthier foods; that failed. My dad would buy one or two separate microwaveable junk food meals for me; goddess knows why. Idiot. And my mom did no parenting whatsoever at that point.

Anyways. There is a fitness center two blocks from here. Now that I have some money, perhaps I'll go there and get a consultation. I don't know how much I need to eat when I exercise regularly, so maybe I could get help with that.

Or maybe I'll have thighs like this forever and I should just get used to it. I mean but the endurance athletes are slim, so why couldn't I be? I just need to put enough miles on the bike.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
I hope. For how long, I don't know. I called a shelter in the town I had my campsites in when I was homeless. They had space in the emergency family shelter, so I 
gave them my sister's name and let her know to show up. I don't know how it turned out and I'm afraid to text her and ask. 

She called me today and told me she couldn't open a checking account because she had no money and couldn't get a payday advance loan because she had no checking account! And a few other details that further solidified my impression that she's totally failing at homelessness. I was so frustrated, I could hardly concentrate on my work. I was doing a trial editing job for a new potential client. I still can't figure out how someone with so much income got so behind on a mere $75 monthly storage payment, and why she would then decide to pay it all off at once, leaving herself no gas money!

So I don't want to find out what happened because I don't want to return to that state of worry just before bedtime. She may have gone to bed already anyhow.

Ooooh! I finally got my housing coordinator's info and called her about the apartment I found on craigslist. Sooooo excited. She called the contact person for me but had to leave a message; however, she has contacts and said she would ask around the town to see if she could get any more information about the place and possibly drive by and take a look at it! Awesome. I used to think I wasted my time in the military, but it's turned out to be pretty much the most valuable thing I ever did. Vets get a lot of great services.

OMG. That person I've been talking to on OkC has sent me another message. I'm scared to read it. Procrastination with respect to anything that may cause an emotional reaction, that's me. That's Enneagram type 5. I just have to force myself to do things. Once I do, I sometimes wish I hadn't waited so long (especially when it comes to work).

Whew. Everything was fine. I'm super excited about meeting her. We've been talking about going hiking. Now that I'll have some transportation money, the main problem is my ability to physically handle hours on public transportation.

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and I don't want to go. I waited until the last minute and then didn't cancel because I kept thinking that maybe the doctor would be able to do something for me. Like that sleep study. Then at least my sleeping problems would be documented. But I kinda feel that I'm just clutching at straws. I know I'll have to fix this myself, and really, what good will documented insomnia do me? I don't expect the sleep study center to find that I have any other problem.

I went walking for about one and a quarter hours this evening. Surely I can do something as easy as walking without feeling exhausted tomorrow. We'll see.

So I guess I'll need information on intrusive thoughts and maybe CBT or something for my insomnia.

I have like no appetite lately.

improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
My mom, sister, and nephew just left. They're still homeless. They drove quite a ways. three or so towns, just to get a shower, and my mom didn't get a full one because it's late and she has to drive my sister to work tomorrow.

I once again suggested that my sister get a gym membership. She said that she can't get one because she doesn't have a checking account. She said she got tired of her checking account because it got hacked and the bank lost her money. Multiple times. Wth? So she accesses her money through a prepaid debit card, which the gym won't accept.

She also said the local homeless shelter stopped allowing daily walk-in showers. And that the shelter is moving towards serving men more. They're not allowing families anymore! What the hell is that? Why prioritize grown ass men over children?!

I just had an idea and texted her: Keep only a small amount of money in a checking account.

I'm angry about the homeless shelter situation in this country. Children, females, the disabled, and the elderly should get first dibs, and womyn should not be thrown out in the street for complaining about the men who are now being allowed in womyn's shelters. I hate people so damned much.

I only worked about three hours today, yet I have a headache from staring at the computer screen.

Seems like my sleep aids aren't working anymore. Until recently, I couldn't have said why I've been having trouble sleeping. Now, however, I clearly notice myself jerking awake as a worrisome thought crosses my mind. I still have a terrible unconscious habit of morbidly reminding myself of various types of suffering and abuse I've heard about.

Speaking of the unconscious, I've pretty much finished reading Quenk's book about inferior function drama. The information confirmed my type (INTP); I could relate to the INTP inferior function experience (extraverted Feeling), but not the INTJ experience (extraverted Sensing).

Previously, I'd thought that my little pR0n overindulgence problem was an Se inferior "grip," but I now think that was an isolated incident with a different explanation. Come to think of it, that time I spent eating myself into obesity in France could be interpreted as an Se grip experience...but meh. The explanation of the problem doesn't matter as much as the solution.

And I think the relationship between Myers-Briggs theory and the unconscious may be able to help me find the solution to my insomnia because I seem to be unconsciously keeping myself awake. Or maybe sub-consciously is the word. Too bad the shitty therapist couldn't help me. Anyways, it is helping with my social problems.

So I've earned nearly $500 in the past three days (which is unheard of for me), and I am so relieved. $700 in the bank is a very real cushion for someone in my position, and I can allow myself modest little indulgences (like a five-dollar book off of ebay) without guilt and worry.

At this moment I am quite tired but don't feel myself able to sleep.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
I keep finding these little itchy bumps on my body, and I still don't know what to make of them. They go away in a couple of days, then I find one or two more.

The apparent respite in my fatigue was short-lived. The weird thing is that I seem to be able to hold the fatigue at bay with exercise—workouts or chores—yet I begin to feel tired shortly after I stop.

I want to know what the hell is going on, and I have to wait two and a half weeks for my next rheumatology appointment.

Oh shit! Just remembered that I was supposed to go for a walk today. Well hell. I'm burning too many calories anyways, so missing one day won't really hurt me.

Today is only day 2 and I'm already ambivalent about this diet; it seems almost too much to endure what with the fatigue and all. I said the same damned thing the last time I tried to diet. Although I've tried this and found it didn't help, I still have the sense that eating more food would make me feel less tired.

And another thing...I don't really want to be thinner. I want it but it's not super important. I'm on this diet because I hate abandoning my goals. I don't like to give up. I don't know why sticking to a goal for its own sake seems so important. Kinda crazy, isn't it?

I put in a lot of work proposals today and it took so much effort. Can't work without energy and can't move away without money. I think that there is a chance that I'd miraculously get well if I moved away. Maybe I don't feel depressed because all the depression is in my body. If that's even possible.

I have continued to work by myself on psychosocial problems. Day before yesterday, I made a thread and once again had to abandon it due to unsupportable anger and frustration over one or two of the responses. This is a very obvious pattern and it's past time I examine it. Well, the result of my examination is quite ugly.

I decided this evening that there are two main phenomena at play in these situations: lack of social connection and frustrated entitlement.

The latter seems the less serious issue. No matter how nasty I see people get, no matter how foreign they seem, no matter how boring they are, I cling to the expectation of social interaction that is (as I've written in my little journal sitting here) smooth, respectful, focused, and enriching. So when the hiccups, the misunderstandings, the disagreements, the seemingly stupid questions and obvious observations, the assumptions, the derailments inevitably happen, I cannot endure these things.

I could probably learn to take these things. I could, for example, go back and force myself to read through that thread, telling myself that it's ok to be angry and frustrated but that these bumps aren't the end of the world.

Far more hopeless is my lifelong lack of social connection. I don't know whether I am missing something that other people have that attaches them to others or I'm just in the clutches of a lifelong habit. But I think that every time one of these unpleasant things happens, justified or not I see another nail in the coffin that holds my social life. I see another piece of evidence that I can never convince anyone of anything, can never have any but the most basic of my perspectives understood, can never be taken at face value, can never escape the random little moods and hangups of others (yuck). Can never be on the same page, ever.

But I don't really have adequate evidence of those things since I've begun coping with the emotions by abandoning my own discussions. There are some sixteen other responses that I've not even read because avoidance, withdrawal, giving up, forgetting the whole affair, seems the only way for me to modulate my emotional response. My response is always intense, but that's because, I think, I've little social experience to ground me enough to modulate the intensity.

In my family, there were no discussions. There was no talking through disagreements, no voicing my opinion. It was my dad's way or the highway. My dad lectured, and everyone else kept quiet and listened or risked a blow. So no grounding social experience in my childhood to show me that these disagreements and things were no big deal, no experience handling them properly.

Then I spent most of the rest of my life never really talking to anyone, and disagreeing and explaining even less, so no experience there. Very little experience seeing that the world wouldn't end over a disagreement. Very little experience feeling myself understood. Where those experiences should be, deep within me, supporting my current experiences from my core, there is a void.

The thing that makes this more hopeless than the sense of entitlement is the lack of an immediate solution. I can work on my entitlement right away (I think), but there is nothing I can do to make up for 36 years of barren social life. I can only try to create that life now. But it seems so late. And the only way to make it to those grounding social experiences is to pass the gatekeeper social experiences: the acquaintances, the getting-to-know you phase, the first dates, the uncertain approaches, the mis-steps, the randomness. All the things I hate the most about socializing. It seems so much work. And I'm not even sure that would fix the problem. And my motivation is somewhat lacking because I know from long experience that I can just go back to isolation and survive.

And this is why I'm literally tired of being alive. It must be taken one day at a time. Right now looking too far into the future is the way of hopelessness. I feel like I can't be normal enough to deal with the small, auxiliary social experiences until I get that one deep social experience, but I can't get the latter without putting up with the former. It's a circle with no opening through which I can comfortably insert myself. The only proper entry point is childhood, and that's over for me, so I've no choice but to do it the hard way.

I Might Be

May. 26th, 2017 11:22 pm
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
Maybe I'm uncomfortable in sit-down restaurants and prefer to eat at my computer rather than a table because my family never sat down at a table to eat together all at once. We didn't have regular mealtimes either.

Maybe I'm terrible at keeping an apartment clean because I never had to keep a home clean. I wasn't ever given chores as a child. No one ever taught me how to clean a place of dwelling.

Maybe I have a poor sense of time because I had no schedules at home while I was growing up. I remember having a 9 PM bedtime for a while when I started school, but that didn't endure. School was the only place I had to be, and I had to rely on other people to get me there. I wasn't allowed to walk or take the bus despite my wanting to do so. At school I relied on the bells and never paid attention to time.

People in my house often stayed up rather late. I could hear them as I lay in bed. There were no nighttime rituals, no baths or stories, nothing to get children ready for bed. Maybe that's why I've had insomnia on and off during my adult life. Maybe that's why I struggle to adapt to a new sleep/wake schedule.

These are the things I've come up with while going through It Ends With You: Grow Up and Out of Dysfunction, a self-help book for adult children of dysfunctional families. Not too bad, am I? I don't get into abusive relationships, I don't have low self-esteem, I don't "solve" interpersonal problems with yelling and violence, and I don't smoke weed and drink alcohol every night. Alas, some of my siblings did not fare so well :(

So I think I don't really need to re-visit all that childhood drama. The shrink keeps tryna take me back. I just need to use the alarm feature of my cellphone, practice minimalism, get myself a chore schedule, and make sure I rarely have to get up early for anything.

Hallelujah. Tomorrow is Saturday, my day off from spinning. Being on that bike is so boring. I can see those beautiful abs coming in...and I'm decreasing the calories again.

improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
Once again I spent half the day emotionally paralyzed because of therapy. I could barely talk while I was there, kept breaking up. Something keeps telling me to stop talking, stop going, stop seeking help from others, and I end up fighting it instead of being 100% engaged while I'm there.

The therapist doesn't say much so I made myself talk, however haltingly. On the first or second visit, I mentioned that my dad had criticized me sometimes, and today she said that she wanted to talk about that next time. These damned therapists always want to pin everything on a person's childhood. I am not gonna let that happen to me again. My dad didn't criticize me that often and I didn't really take the criticism to heart, so I don't think it had a terribly strong effect on me, but of course there's no way to communicate that experience to her. 

Anyways, I decided to explore on my own whether I'm still suffering significantly from my dysfunctional childhood. I got a book about it from the library. The book says to look for traits in myself that I may have gotten from my parents, but I'm wildly different than they are. Whatever is going on with me, being like mom or dad isn't it.

I'm observing myself very anxious and freaking out about the therapist assuming something about me or misinterpreting something I say. I guess I will just tell her next time.I got the appointment moved to Wednesdays so that the all-day upsetfest doesn't interfere with lifting.

After I told the therapist that I didn't want to get to know a bunch of random people, it occurred to me that there is kind of a desperate quality to my social ambitions. I suppose that with no solid base of social support (friends/family), my priority must be to get some: an intimate relationship. I have known for some time that I might become more interested in friends after I had that primary relationship, but never thought much on why aside from my lifelong social disinterest and low social energy. Maybe I just don't want to waste time with friends because I know that that sort of relationship won't address what's missing.

During my walk this evening I started to wonder if I should go along with the therapist's plan to talk about my dad's criticism. I would have to tell her that I've reconsidered. Doing that really bothers me but I don't know why. Although I became very upset when she said that I looked depressed during our first visit, I reconsidered and decided that I I may have some sub-clinical depression. I thought that I should tell her that, but the prospect of doing so bothered me, and I don't know why.

I felt a bit less fatigued today.

I don't know if I have it in me to shoulder all this. I'm just tired of living improperlyhuman's life.

And I DO NOT want to be an editor.

I read something from another person who is Type 5. She said that it's important for Type 5s confidence and feelings of mastery to have jobs with clearcut...something, I can't remember. Well, editing isn't clearcut, like I've complained about before. Reading this was just more evidence that I should abandon ship.

I don't know if I should go through with the certificate anyways though. I don't know what to do. Good thing I haven't submitted the enrollment form yet. I guess I should first explore alternative careers. I'm gonna feel like an idiot if I decide to ask my voc rehab counselor to change my employment plan.
improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
This body is so awesome. I LOVE it. I couldn't stay away from the mirror today. Prancing around the house in my goddamned underwear and the knee socks I wear on deadlift days. My one-womon vanity parade.

It's getting hot here. The apartment holds in the heat like I never would have imagined given that I nearly froze to death over the winter.

No word from the landlord about the heater he's supposed to install. I'm kind of afraid to tell the housing authority. What if I have to move out because they have rules against paying rent for an apartment that doesn't pass inspection?

I finally took a look at the employment plan my voc rehab counselor emailed me. Started crying. Not because of the plan so much as because I don't want to have to make this decision (and just generally being overwhelmed with everything going on in my life). Not right now, not without more information.

Maybe I should have asked to be trained for a different career, but that would just take more time. Editing is really the only professional skill I have. May as well stick with it. But even with a certificate from a prestigious university, I'm still going to struggle to get work. I'm still going to be wicked poor. Editing itself is...meh. It's ok. All the other things that must happen to maintain a career are the problem. I guess I'll just take the course and simultaneously keep my eye out for something more suitable.

I texted my sister. She responded without saying anything dire, so I guess she's ok. I don't know if she's housed, however. I decided to keep my message brief in case she's still upset with me.

Insects creep me the hell out. I just put one outside that had a gazillion legs. I hope this town isn't the sort of place on which a plague of insects descends in the summertime.

I was looking through my old entries today when I found a resolution to remind myself each morning to not worry about what other people think of me. Gotta stick to that.
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Shit that is not science fiction gets classified as science fiction. Worse than librarians shelving fantasy in the sci-fi section of the library, somehow a drama entitled In The Forest was on a bunch of sci-fi movie lists. I couldn't find the indie sci-fi films I wanted, so I watched that one this evening.

It was fairly interesting, and I was using it as entertainment during my cycling workout, so I kept watching it. I can usually spot an upcoming rape scene well ahead of time, at which point I shut off the movie. Not fast forward it, just shut off the whole damned movie. I used to fast forward them, but that didn't put enough distance between me and them. A couple of times, I found that I hadn't fast forwarded far enough! Horrible.

But I somehow didn't see this one coming. I thought that guy wanted to steal their food, their gas, or their firewood. And like every other time, I wish that I hadn't seen it. I was silently yelling at her to swing that axe.

And what really twisted me up inside is that she got pregnant. And wanted to keep the baby. While they were damn near starving to death, with no hospital or medical supplies or other people anywhere nearby. I mean I guess giving birth is safer than letting your teenaged sister perform an abortion on you with no knowledge beyond what she's read in a goddamned encyclopedia.

But this movie was not science fiction.

Why does my head hurt?! I could have sworn I ate not so long ago.

I am sick in my I-don't-know-what. Sick in my psychology. I mean made ill, cancer put in my mind that eats at me. I can't unsee things.

This movie was not science fiction. There was a major power outage; I thought a science fictiony cause would be revealed, but no cause was ever revealed. Just drama and tears and sickness and vague regret.

Their dad died and their mom was already dead. I wondered what it would be like to actually give a damn about one's parents, to miss them, to have had a good relationship with them. A curious thing it is. Just one more thing to be sad about; who needs that?

I worry about my sister. I wonder if she would ignore me or be angry with me if I texted her. I'm not sure why she got angry with me. I don't even know her. I hope that she at least tries to go to her friends for help instead of another guy.

Time for dinner.
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
My sister texted me asking to borrow sixty bucks today. I can't really afford that, and I knew there was a very good chance that she'd never pay me back. She said the money would be for a motel room, which she wanted because the cops had told her that she couldn't sleep in her car. Like one night in a motel is going to solve her problem. I'd just be pouring money down the drain.

She seems to have no idea how to deal with long-term homelessness. She's staying in a dangerous town and won't leave because it's near her job. She'd probably be safer living homeless in the town where her job is actually located.

I was shocked to hear that she hadn't showered in a week. I never went that long without bathing. After I told her to get a gym membership, she lost it and told me that she wasn't related to me anymore (lol) and that I should never contact her again. Huh? I don't even know why she's so upset with me.

I survived the same situation she's in for years with way fewer resources. She has a stable full-time job that pays well and a late-model car. I had three hundred bucks a month and a van with a bum transmission, a van I eventually lost. I know what the hell I'm talking about and try to give her advice, but she doesn't listen and I don't know why. I suspect that she's not yet accepted how difficult her life has to be right now.

I told her that her stuff (which she was supposed to come get weeks ago) was going in the trash, and didn't realize that that was not the best wording until after I'd sent the message. I didn't say that to be mean; I'm just not going to provide free storage indefinitely for someone who won't ever contact me again. I was thinking that she'd never come get her crap. So she called me names and said she'd come get her stuff tomorrow, but she didn't give me a time and I know she may not come.

I am worried about her safety, but I don't really give a shit about us anymore. There never really was an "us." I tried to have a relationship with her and it didn't work out; now she's acting like an ass and there's nothing for me in it anymore. I never could get her to speak her mind so I don't even know her. When I'd call her, she'd say that she'd call me back and then never called me back. She's not the person she used to be. Or maybe I didn't know her then, either.

There goes the last sister I had contact with. It's strange that I don't know any of them or ever speak to them, given how many I have. I don't even know where they are. Messed up family.
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Couldn't sleep last night because of the cold, slept late and missed a very lucrative work opportunity. The heater kept shutting off; I don't know why.

Took a bike ride out on a country road today, hoping to make it to the next town. Someone else who biked this route described the road as "gently rolling hills." Well, they weren't gentle at all. The ride started off with three slopes, each within half a mile of the next, each steeper than the last. I made poor time and didn't reach my destination. I was afraid that the sun would soon set, and I didn't have it in me to ride up the last hill I came across before turning around. I got in a good two-and-a-half hour workout, so I'm satisfied for today, but I'm not motivated to go out that way again. That leaves me with few cycling options; there's only one other bike route around.

I think I was about 9 when I noticed how disinclined my mom was to work, and I felt irritated with her because I foretold that she would try to leech off of me one day. That hasn't come to pass because she's been leeching off of my younger sister. They are homeless because my mom destroyed my sister's rental history by setting fire to the apartment my sister was leasing.

My mom has made mistake after mistake, resulting in a near inability to provide for herself at all. But what is really grating is her reliance on her offspring, given that she has done jack shit for us our entire lives. I don't understand my sister's devotion to her; I would have unloaded her long ago. Actually, my sister has needed a babysitter all these years, that's probably played a part. But her son won't need a babysitter for much longer.

While I was out, my sister left a message saying that she and mom had to separate, and that she didn't want mom out on the streets. She wants her to stay here, for few nights she says. I've no doubt that few nights would turn into a long-term stay if I allowed that to happen. Other than calling about shelter information, I've ignored the message.

As much as I don't want her around, I was considering allowing her to stay when I remembered that fire she started. Putting a roof over her head certainly isn't worth my housing voucher.

It's been three-and-a-half hours since my sister left the message, and she hasn't called back, so they've probably made other arrangements.
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My mom called me again. One of her brief check-in calls. I haven't had the energy to tell her to stop calling me up until now. So I told her. I said that I was not comfortable talking to her. She asked if she'd done anything wrong, and I said "not recently." I did not, however, say what she'd done. But she apologized and said that she never wanted to hurt any of her kids.

I don't know what's the use of an apology from someone who doesn't even know what the grievance is. Before I could ask her what the hell she was apologizing for, she simply said that she would stop calling. Then she said that she wouldn't really stop calling because she'd still make brief calls to give me news about my sister and nephew (with whom she is living). By that time (a matter of seconds), I had forgotten what I'd wanted to say about the apology. Auditory processing deficit at work.

I know that I should attempt to actually have a discussion with her about her horrible parenting for closure and repairing what little relationship we have left, but it's a painful thing to talk about, and a small part of me is afraid that she won't really understand or listen, and that she doesn't give a shit anymore because she's tired of my distant behavior.

An even smaller part of me wonders what the point is. I'm almost thirty-six and she's...I dunno, a zillion years old, and this is an old issue that can never be fixed. Dysfunctional childhoods can never be fixed. Oh well. Maybe I will speak up next time.

I walked around town a bit today and finally got to see the gorgeous view. I also had the presence of mind to work on not feeling anxious. And I finally got the bedroom window closed! Hallelujah.

Split pea stew for lunch today. I also tried some vegan jerky. It was a bit tough to chew. I don't have a teapot yet, and the stew is taking up my only pot, so I made tea by setting a mug full of water directly on the range. I used my glove as a pot holder and with the hot mug accidentally melted a small hole through the base of the pinky.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
My mom, sister, and nephew suddenly found out that they will have to move out of their place. Today they came over and stored some of their stuff in my bedroom closet. I wanted to show off my new-found strength by carrying the boxes, but I felt kinda weak, so it wasn't really impressive
: (
I still ended up doing most of the lifting. My sister said I was "hecka skinny." No I'm not. My nephew is overweight. I told my mom to tell him to sit to use the restroom. There'll be no man-spraying in my apartment.

They didn't stay for very long.

I'm tired of being on a diet. My weight has decreased by 1 lb. at most in the past three or four weeks. And it is so weird that I hardly ever feel hunger pangs, and even when I do, they aren't as strong as they were during my last diet, despite the fact that I'm eating roughly the same number of calories at a higher weight, greater muscle composition, and a much higher activity level.

I usually feel weak and tired instead of hungry, and, contrary to expectation, the weakness and tiredness are usually more difficult to handle than the hunger pangs.

Maybe I'm holding onto water weight. Thanks to processed foods, I've been eating about twice as much sodium as I normally have.

This morning, I tried a more suitable bike sprinting routine: 15 seconds HIIT, 45 seconds low-intensity. It was still difficult and still made my head hurt. The workout doesn't last long enough to give me a full-blown headache, however. I was hoping that I could work up to something approximating that 20 seconds HIIT/10 seconds low-intensity, but I seriously doubt it now. It's not really a matter of fitness, I don't think.

I finally set up landline service! I was at first frustrated with myself for putting it off for so long, but it really was the ordeal I'd anticipated. I was on the phone for half an hour, struggling to listen to someone with an accent all but yell into my ear.

The apartment is looking open and inviting these days now that I'm keeping it tidy.

I must have got sunburned a few days ago. My shoulders are peeling like they were after Pride so many years ago. That was like a decade ago! My sister asked me if I was "like really old right now." Wut. Compared to the universe, I'm just a baby.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
I am making bank with my new client.

I am nearing the point of not needing to actively seek out new things to learn about editing. I am becoming An Editor.

I am still struggling with aggravating mechanical workflow problems, namely fitting my keyboard, mouse, and mousepad on the keyboard tray. I'm not even really using my standalone numeric keypad; there's no space for it.

Editing with text editing applications is too slow. I am now more motivated than ever to learn vim, but it is going to be a pain with the Colemak keyboard layout.

Last night I had a very disturbing nightmare about my sister. In the dream, I woke up and found some guy she knew at my house, along with a child of hers that was different (younger, and maybe a girl) than her actual child. I don't know what he was doing, but he was looking through my stuff and I was angry. Then he decided to leave the child with me!

The scene changed in that senseless way that scenes change in dreams, and then I was with said sister and our third sister in their home. I confronted the former about sending her boyfriend or whatever to my place, and she was irritated, tried to brush me off, wouldn't explain herself. Then she was about to leave and I began to question her more aggressively. She kicked me in my stomach and walked off! To be suddenly confronted with the fact that she would do such a thing (she is a very peaceful person) hurt at least as much as the kick.

So then our mom appeared in the kitchen and I was talking to her about the attack. She said something about my sister having been picked up, interrogated, and tortured for some information pertaining the guy who'd been at my house. She told me to look at my sister's hands, and I noticed with horror that several of her fingernails had been pried off. I awoke shortly thereafter.

The dream affected me so much, I considered calling my sister to ask if she was ok, even though I knew that it was just a dream and had nothing to do with what's happening in her life. Still in bed, I thought about the piece of trash that impregnated her and was very angry. I thought about all of the womyn who end up pregnant by men who care nothing about them and soon leave them. Yet if I tell any of the former to stop trusting men or at least stop engaging in ONE SPECIFIC ACT with men, I'm the bad guy. ("Bad guy" is one of the few sexed idioms that I don't change to a feminine form. It's an accurate phrase because the "bad" person usually is a guy, considering the worst forms of "badness.")

Sometimes I think it meet that idiots so stubbornly wedded to patriarchy suffer for their self-destructiveness. Maybe the suffering will snap them out of it, I think. But I know that patriarchy brainwashes females into self-destructive behavior, so I try to quash such thoughts. Merely a symptom of anger and frustration, they are not at all helpful. Gotta keep my eyes on the prize.

The novel Carol was beginning to irritate me because the protagonist was really becoming clingy and jealous. In the chapter I read today, the title character's husband is revealed to have put a private investigator on the trail of his wife and her new young...I hate the word "lover," it seems really seedy. I think it rubs me that way because I learned it in the context of a novel about an extra-marital affair.

Anyways, the book is set, I believe, in the 50s, and I don't think that I can stomach lesbian persecution (fictionalized, even) at this point in my life, especially not that old time lesbian persecution from which there was little or no escape.

Last week I downloaded a free Kindle book that catalogues old school lesbian-themed fiction. I suppose that I should have known how many depressing story lines were in store. All the plots consisted of some combination of nymphomania, murder, suicide, domination, womyn's prisons, and child abuse. Horrifying.

This morning, I also thought about "curing" some of my resentment by simply telling my mother that I feel uncomfortable with talking to her because I resent her poor parenting.

I read e-books during my morning cycle and I love the routine. I continue to steadily lose weight: 5 lbs. as of this morning. Give or take a pound, I've lost half of what I gained. It's so easy this time.

I've stopped eating in the evening, but night sweats are not as intense, just a damp neck is what I get. I can't even remember some nights because I'm sleeping so much better.
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I went to what was supposed to be my six-month dental checkup today. The receptionist called my health insurance company and found out that bi-annual checkups are only covered for clients under the age of 21. Wut.

So the entire day was wasted for nothing. Every time I go out for the day, I hope that it'll be the one time I somehow manage to avoid the exhaustion that always comes at the end of days away from home. I'm always disappointed. Since I've arrived home, I've managed to do little besides play Mah Jong.

At the moment I'm listening to a Chopin (a piano concerto, I think), a CD I got as a teenager. Striking is the difference in the moods occasioned by the music then and now. As a teenager, I found it somewhat gloomy, partially because it seemed so long. I had only been into classical music for a few years, and I was still working out how to develop a taste for the longer works.

I remember finding the CD in Kmart and feeling nervous about asking my dad to buy it for me. I knew that he knew nothing about classical music and wouldn't understand, wouldn't even recognize the name Chopin, and I was accustomed to being scrutinized for interests that were too "white." His "girlfriend" at the time looked at the track list and laughed when she read the "Death March." Such memories I have.

Hearing the music now, after all these years, is much more pleasant. The variety of classical works I've listened to in my 23 years as a fan seems to have put the concerto's tone in a non-gloomy context. I no longer dread listening until the end. There's a bit of...I don't know what to call it, nostalgia, maybe. No, more like tenderness and understanding towards my teenaged self.

I have since devised a way to enjoy new musical works that are long: I put them on in the background several times over the course of days or weeks, allowing myself to merely hear, without committing myself to the burden of focused listening. After a while, I recognize enough of the song such that conscious listening isn't so taxing. Coping technique for undiagnosed auditory processing deficit, I'll bet.

I finished a Udemy course on anger management today. About three days ago, I chose the course as part of Udemy's early review program, then decided to complete it for my own benefit rather than simply scanning through the videos for the review.

It was very helpful! The course was made of up very short videos, totaling just one hour of content, and I was disappointed that it ended so soon. I made sure to work through all of the reflective assignments, and they were quite instructive. The instructor was engaging (of course, I mean my type of engaging, not feely/charismatic engaging) and made the course very comfortable despite the subject matter.

To put it simply: I don't feel angry anymore. It seems almost foolish to type that; to say that something that's been bedeviling me for...years? now is gone in a matter of days. I'm almost afraid that I'm wrong and it's still here with me, just masked by today's exhaustion. Then again, it doesn't seem quite so sudden considering that it had begun to fade before I'd started the course, back when I figured out that I was mainly angry with myself.

A lot of things came together for me as I finished the course this afternoon, and I think being overwhelmed by the mental work and the sudden clarity and release of...whatever I released, contributed to the exhaustion, which came on shortly after I'd finished watching the last videos.

The layer underneath the anger is made up of resentment, so that's what I have to deal with next. I think that'll be a lot harder to "fix." I wanted so badly for the anger management instructor to have provided a course on resentment as well. I looked for some books and other online courses, but I didn't find anything promising.

I noticed that a lot of the material on this topic revolves around forgiveness and close relationships. Neither of those applies to me. Forgiveness is just...it doesn't compute. It has no meaning to me and does not seem relevant to me. As stupid as it feels to type it now, most of my anger issues revolved around situations with strangers. I'm not dealing with betrayals by trusted loved ones or anything seriously intimate like that (which is probably part of the reason why forgiveness is irrelevant).

This post is long!

After more than one hundred and fifty pages, finally some lesbian action today in my current love interest, the novel Carol. The protagonist, Therese, was joyous, and I was happy with and for her. That made me think of something I'd read about schizoids: that they enjoy relationships in their heads more than relationships in the flesh. I know that I would feel terribly anxious in Therese's place, anxious to the point of avoidance. I think that I've not quite yet reached the point at which I'd rather read about it than live it, although I'm certainly close.

improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
Can't do low carb after all. I had brain fog and the beginning of a migraine up until I started eating carbs again today. Damn. Since I felt fine yesterday, maybe I will try eating low carb every other day.

My VA doctor called for my phone appointment two hours late. I told him about my fatigue and his advice was "you need to eat." WOW. What quality physicians medical schools are churning out. He was talking about my fasting blood test results. I told him that my blood sugar isn't low all the time and he didn't seem to have anything to say to that.

I asked him if low Vitamin D could cause fatigue and he started in about Vitamin D being related to bone health and some other stuff, so I had to repeat my question. I'm still not sure he even understood that question.

Finally, he told me to take double doses of Vitamin D for a couple of months, and he said that my levels had been very low (I hadn't known that they were very low), so I decided to take the vitamins. I just came back from the drug store. ALL the brands of Vitamin D3 are made with gelatin, so now I have to find vegan Vitamin D3. I wonder if it even exists. I was surprised that no vegan Vitamin D3 was available from the company that makes the vegan B12 I take.

I got my vegan wristbands today, and of course they don't fit my scrawny wrists. I'm wearing one halfway up my forearm.

I was thinking about telling my mom to stop calling me again when it occurred to me that my avoiding the one person who wants to listen to me while basically going insane because of no one listening to me is ironic. Or is it ironic? I'm no longer sure that I know the meaning of "irony." Anyways, my mom claims to want to talk to me; I don't know if she would really listen. 

For a while today, I considered taking her up on those conversations she wants, but I don't think they would go well. We have so little in common, I can imagine getting little more than frustration out of talking with her. I've never told her much of anything about myself, so I am basically a stranger to her. She was preoccupied when I was a child, didn't talk to me much, then she went to prison when I was a teenager, and I'd moved away when she came back and shipped out to basic training shortly thereafter. She doesn't even know me.

Déjà vu.

I think I know why my compost molded: Too much coffee grounds. I trashed it to get rid of the gnats (it didn't work). I don't really have the energy to start over again, not now at least.

I put my steel water bottle into the oven so that gnats couldn't land on it, and had forgotten about it when I started up the oven for lunch. It caught fire (I think it might have exploded had I not noticed the flame through the oven door when I did) and part of the plastic? silicone? top melted onto the floor of the oven. I removed all the plastic I could see while it was still a semi-liquid, but the kitchen still smells toxic, like burning plastic, whenever I use the oven, which simultaneously has a thin smoky haze in it. I'm brilliant.
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Who the hell started this bullshit practice of adding sugar to everything, and why? I bought some pizza pockets today and they were sweet!

I feel much better today; keeping a journal is good therapy. Got my second wind and did a good amount of work today.

So I was searching for some lifting shoes and I learned the ugly truth: that a lot of our clothing is petroleum-based. I found a pair of lifting shoes that listed synthetic leather as one of the materials. So I looked up synthetic leather and ended up watching a manufacturing video of liquid toxins being mixed in a huge vat. Sooo sick and wrong. The narrator said that furniture upholstery is also made of frankenfabrics. Well, it's definitely vegan.

I don't want any petroleum-based shoes, so I need another solution to my squatting difficulties. I'm going to try squatting with my heels up on a plank of wood. If it's good enough for Arnold, it's good enough for me.

Arnold squatting like a boss

BEEFCAKE!!1!!

It'll also be cheaper. Lifting shoes run for around 100 bucks on the cheap end.

Got my monitor cable today and I still can't get an image on the monitor. Piece of crap.

Something just occurred to me while I was playing atris. Most people socialize (date and make friends) within their own socioeconomic group, right? Once or twice, I've wondered why that is so. Aside from simple proximity/availability, most people probably find it a lot easier to get along with other people from their socioeconomic group.

But me, I've never felt like I got along well with my socioeconomic group. I've always felt anxious talking to poor people because I know that they sometimes get awkward if someone references words or ideas with which they are unfamiliar. I simplify things I say. I don't like doing it because, knowing that I don't like it when people do that to me, I feel like a hypocrite. It's not really a problem now, but it was something I did in my twenties.

I also worried about them talking to me about hobbies and interests. People have gotten awkward when I said that I like to read, when I didn't recognize the popular music they were singing to me.

But my goodness, ADOAS were the absolute worst. No other group of people has been so quick and so forward with their expectations and stereotyping. To this day I am paranoid around them. Of course my dysfunctional family was the worst. I remember they teased me about not being able to dance (ALL ADOAS can dance, apparently) when I was just a small kid, couldn't have been older than 4 or 5, and I cried! Awful bunch of people.

But even complete strangers made it clear that I was expected to be a Christian and listen to rap music.

Something I still don't understand is why ADOAS seem to be just Christians. Why no specific denomination? Baptists? Lutherans? I only ever hear them refer to themselves as Christians. Maybe when a people get their religion handed to them (or was it beaten into them?) from the white man, even the more salient details get lost.

What was my point? Oh yeah, never really felt any sense of belonging to a socioeconomic group. Even if I did feel a sense of belonging, the cultural differences would still exist. Maybe I would have a social life if this were not the case. Maybe in my twenties. I had no definite social preferences and no idea what people were like. In my very early twenties, I hung out with a guy from my Reserve unit who was a Christian and I barely even thought about it. Not today!

I used to just go along with shit back in the day. That's how I got any friends at all. I didn't have any particular interest in the people who (very rarely) approached me, but I just went with the flow and gave out my phone number.

Weak ethnic affiliation is apparently a trait that has been associated with schizoids. But I don't have weak ethnic affiliation because I'm a schizoid. I have weak (or rather, nonexistent) ethnic affiliation because

1. ethnic affiliation is useless to me and tainted by the white man's sociocultural engineering, and

2. ADOAS subculture just doesn't fit with my personality, and has some warped elements to it. That streak of anti-intellectualism probably killed it for me. I heard tell that there were some middle class ADOAS somewhere that were different from us poor, criminal, broken-family, school-dropout ADOAS, and they sounded like they might have had a nicer sub-culture, but I don't have any experience with that.

Actually, I don't even know how to classify the family I grew up in terms of class. We lived in a car and motels during my earliest years, then we moved into a house in the suburbs when I was five or six, but the only reason that came about was because my dad put the house in my nineteen-year-old sister's name (his credit was probably ruined), and the money came from the crimes he and my mom committed.

Then my dad tried for years and years to leave behind his lifetime of crime and become a businessman, but he failed hard. Finally opened a business when I was an adolescent, but never earned much from it. I think he may have owned another business or two before I was born, but he obviously hadn't been able to keep them going. The piece of shit desperately wanted to appear respectable. When I was about fifteen, I asked if I could get a job. He said no because, how would it look for a businessman's daughter to be working?

I'm all over the place with this blog post. The truth is that I probably wouldn't have any strong sense of ethnic affiliation regardless of the group of people I may have been born into. Strong ethnic affiliation is a stupid, provincial, normie thing. Feeling strongly identified with a group of people that one is a part of by mere chance is like so shallow. And to the extent that my weak ethnic affiliation helped to get me misdiagnosed as a schizoid, it is yet another illustration of why I'd be better off with a therapist who has experience with gifted adults.

You're so smart, iconoclass, that's what people have said to me. But do they put two and two together and see that being "smart" is a fundamental part of my personality, that it directly affects my behavior. It's not just something that makes me good at schoolwork. Anyways, I'm not just gifted. I'm 2E! A little bit of heaven and hell to keep me grounded here on earth.

I do think I got a little something from my family. I like to cuss up a storm like my dad. And none of us ever minced words for the sake of feelz. I think that may have gotten me into some miscommunications. Did I use that phrase correctly? I've never used "minced words" before.
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