Monday, June 12, 2017

I'm so lost and tired. I had my a laparascopic cholecystectomy last week, meaning they cut my gallbladder away and pulled it out through an incision in my belly button. Recovery has been harder than I expected.

Everything is so ugly and tangled in my head right now. Ophelia said she'd talk to me about her experiences with local care but she keeps forgetting, and I told her I don't feel ok continuing to ask. She says she'll talk to me tonight.

Anthony is moving in a week an a half.

The rest of the group... They don't make plans, they rarely join plans, they are introverted and flaky. I feel like things are Ending for all of us and it is the worst feeling.

I feel so, so alone and lonely. I can't even keep friends.

I went to Pride this weekend, despite the sore and puffy belly, and met some ladies from a (state) local women's group I stumbled across a few months ago. I think there are some really nice people; I'm going to try to make myself go to the monthly group outing in a few weeks.

In the meantime... I'm glad to have Percocet. I definitely need it for pain but I've also been too gorked to feel much of anything. I'm tired of feeling.

Saturday, May 27, 2017


So that you know where I'm coming from, as I don't care to discuss everything that fed into the last post, here is where I stand.

There is a difference between giving someone your power and having your power taken away. One is kink, the other is rape. If you find it sexy to give up your power, even if it's something I wouldn't like (and some things I definitely do like), more power to you. Power play is about trust, not force.
If you take someone's power by force, you have committed a crime. If you think it's sexy to create or consume fantasies (role play, porn, etc) about taking someone's power, you are saying rape is sexy. You're saying the act of force is what makes the experience enjoyable. I believe that is harmful even if it's carried out by consenting adults. That crosses a line for me and I do not apologize for not being ok with rape fantasy. If you are simulating raping a child, you are fantasizing about a situation where the person is literally incapable of providing consent. That crosses another line altogether. While I might cringe at the idea of rape fantasy, enjoying and defending child rape fantasy is something I don't need in my life.

For the most part I don't care so long as it's not being physically or verbally carried on in front of me. I don't screen people for their sexual preferences before I decide if we can be friends.

But some things are definitely justification for severing ties. Telling me that being sex positive means never evaluating if a sexual practice (even if done by choice) is harmful to the people who engage in it or to society as a whole... and not being allowed to speak up if I believe it is harmful... that is an irreconcilable difference for any kind of relationship with me.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Pedophelia is not a kink.

Incest is not a fucking kink.

You do not get to tell me I should sit down and shut up about my "kinkshaming" behaviors that normalize rape and abuse and suggest the victim enjoys it.

I will not apologize for that. You don't get to tell me "we were never friends" for having this conviction and being willing to sever ties because of it.

Discussions I've initiated to help me process a traumatic night involving a non-Drama Club friend of Anthony and Ophelia have led to unexpected revelations about where other people stand with "kink" and nonconsensual sexual contact.

If you touch me without permission I will fucking attack you because under the law that is a fucking sex crime. I was not touched, Red was. There was a lack of appropriate boundaries with Ophelia that fed into a situation where that became possible. I saw it coming, apparently no one else did. I am the only one who nearly lost my mind over it because apparently some people think that when it's a cute girl running around grabbing people it's not so much a problem???

Oddly enough, the discussion was at the tail end of my processing the aftermath with Anthony and Ophelia. Anthony has been nothing but upstanding and supportive, Ophelia has been more defensive but has still taken action in ways that tell me her beliefs even if she can't articulate them. We're in an ok place as friends, of which I am glad. Ophelia moves cross-country for work in less than a week, and Anthony follows three weeks after. If we part ways on good terms our friendship just might survive the distance.

Despite the intense difficulties, they are still some of the closest friends I have, and it is going to tear me up to have them disappear so soon after we connected, especially Anthony.

Everything sucks.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

I am not used to chaotic friendships. I am not blameless, neither are they. There was a really fucking horrifying catalyst. We are picking up the pieces and moving forward cautiously.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

This Mad Season

I pulled Charlie out to dinner after the Drinking of the Titanic to talk about the things he said. Ophelia had told me he was already having trouble that night, and Red getting sick just exacerbated it. I told him he matters - to all of us - and the part of his brain that tells him otherwise is a lying sack of shit. He said part of him understands that. I told him there are trained professionals who can help turn down the volume on the bad thoughts. I asked him if he's made plans, he wouldn't answer. I asked him if he would come to one of us if he were in danger, and he wouldn't promise, said he doesn't want to be a bother. I told him it's a bother to let him suffer for no reason. I'm gently encouraging the others to reach out and make sure he knows he is wanted in our circle and that we are here to support him. That's a tricky balancing act for Ophelia right now, though.

She has just started an intensive outpatient program. She says suicidal thoughts are not new to her, but she is having unusually strong and persistent urges. She believes in medically assisted suicide for terminal conditions, and is stuck in a place where she feels like things will always be that bad and so death is a mercy. Anthony told me that she is not giving the same red flags she usually does when it is this bad, and I told him I'm glad she has resources and is being proactive about using them, because it frightens me more that she is suicidal and able to act normally than if she were in obvious distress. They have agreed, under guidance from her therapist, for him to manage her psych meds and keep all sharp objects out of the house. 

I have spent the week in various states of dissociation and panic. I am still not eating, and my brain is doing this demented teeter totter between wanting someone to notice to show they give a shit and wanting everyone to just ignore it because interference doesn't help. I guess right now it is what it is.

We are all still hot messes. 

Saturday, April 15, 2017


Charlie, Red, Anthony, Ophelia and I gathered last night for "the first annual Drinking of the Titanic." We were planning MarioKart and karaoke.

Red, who normally has a high tolerance and a good sense of her limits, had a bad week and was planning on blowing off some steam. She slammed shots of apple whiskey and went from fine to puking her guts out and barely conscious in the blink of an eye. Anthony, Ophelia, and I rallied to make sure she was breathing ok and cleaned up the puke. Anthony carried her to their bathroom and stood handy outside while Ophelia got her into some clean borrowed pajamas. The three of us took turns holding her in a safe puking position then tucking her back into a chair between bouts.

That triggered a crisis with Charlie, who is newer to having more than a beer or two and has NOOOO idea of his limits yet. He felt hopeless and useless because he couldn't help Red so he was off slumped against a wall crying because every hopeless and useless feeling he has ever had was crashing down on him at once. So the rotation included soothing Charlie who felt that he was utterly unimportant and replaceable, and making sure Red didn't aspirate, and still had appropriate vital signs.

Good times :/

I am being far too open about my eating. I kept joking "It's ok, I ate lunch today" when everyone was laughing at how hard a small amount of alcohol was hitting me last night. We all crashed in the living room, though Charlie went home later during the night and Ophelia eventually went upstairs. Anthony and I stayed with Red to make sure someone was handy if needed. In the morning Anthony offered pancakes. "No thank you, I had lunch." "Ok, I'm making you pancakes." I did have one and some coffee because I felt like hell. I had my own mini spaz session after some discussion of childhood things (Anthony, Ophelia, and I have all spent time under the legal care of someone other than our parents) and had to step outside for some air. Ophelia followed me out and helped talk me down. That kind of dead hollow feeling followed me into the morning.

Today I am just feeling alone and empty. I wish we could meet up again tonight and do non-drinking things but I think that might be too much with Ophelia struggling with her own demons so much right now.

We are all grand hot messes.