Tag Archives: pain

Those closest hurt you the most

Recently, I followed my brother onto this facebook page where this guy posted a comic depicting a man and a woman, and she give him her number, and as they walk away, the man is thinking, “I hope she didn’t give me a wrong number.” While the woman is thinking, “I hope he doesn’t rape and murder me.” Below that was written, “Today on “We’re Past All That” a critical examination of how men are really hurt when women don’t trust them and how it’s important that we really consider those feelings.”

My brother started commenting against the comments claiming that men are rapists and are not to be trusted, and then I joined in, because this is a completely unfair assessment that only damages any kind of equality we’re trying for. My brother stated that the comic was an unfair example, and that a better thing for the man to be thinking would be “I hope she doesn’t falsely accuse me of rape.” My brother has spent the past 6 years having to deal with the repercussions of that.

We were called rape apologists for saying that most men don’t rape, and that saying it’s fine to mistrust men is the same as saying it’s fine to mistrust black people. Neither one is ok. They claimed we were trying to dismiss women’s experiences by saying that not all men rape… even though it’s more like 5% of the population that does. 5% is not most, it is a mere fraction. Why should millions of men be accused in the minds of women of something they will never do?

It builds up a barrier, something we’ve been trying to tear down. It sets us back, and the people who claim that no man is to be trusted are just trying to raise up a new power in place of the old. No one group should ever be in charge, nothing will ever get better that way.

And of course my brother and I got banned, and then my mom sent me a screenshot showing me that my cousin apologized for our behavior… Great. How sweet. Apologizing for our behavior, knowing exactly what we’ve been through? Our position is as valid as theirs, but we were apparently invading a “safe space,” which happens to be a public page. PUBLIC. Safe places are private. Technically, there are no safe places… just look at what happened to me last year…

This is why I trust no one. I just didn’t expect it from family, especially the cousin I’m closest with.

Socializing fail

My husband has a knack for getting what he wants. Today, some colleagues invited him to dinner and invited me as well. I’ve been home cleaning all day with two cranky babies, so when he texted me asking if I wanted to go, I said no. There was no way I was going to deal with my kids at a restaurant in that state of mind. So then he texts me back saying his mom would babysit. So how could I say no, right? Just a bunch of adults at a nice (supposedly) quiet restaurant. After his mom got to the house and we put the toddler to bed, we left to get to the restaurant. I had never met these colleagues before, but from what my husband was telling me, they shared many of the same interests, so I was curious to meet them. There were only 6 of us at the place, but one was a young girl, maybe 5? And she was sitting at the end of the table. Incidentally, that’s where I was placed as well… I’m very awkward around talkative kids. I felt like I had been placed at the children’s table, away from the adults. The restaurant was loud and noisy (although to most people it was probably acceptable and low key) and I couldn’t really hear what everyone was saying, I had to lean in and strain to hear them. It was especially difficult with the little girl constantly trying to show me things on her mom’s phone. 

Every time I tried to join in the conversation, it was like I just couldn’t get a word in edgewise. I kept trying to talk, but they either talked over me or just couldn’t hear me. I don’t know. So the most meaningful conversation I had was basically “Oh our plates match! Look, you have blue and I have blue!” -_-; I hope I at least made her night more enjoyable… The mom took her daughter home early and we ended up staying, as my husband had discovered one of the colleagues really enjoys Firefly. We love Firefly here too, and so they went on and on about it, which led into the talk of Star Trek and the new movie, and I managed to mention a couple things, but as soon as I started actually talking about the original Star Trek and how the franchise was essentially executed before being revived by the latest movie, everyone got up and no one was paying any attention to me. Since everyone left, I just petered off and no one said anything about it. It was horrible.

I’m just really upset by the whole experience. I hate being talked over, I hate being ignored, I’ve been experiencing this crap for as long as I can remember. I’m just a quiet person, I’m shy and uncertain, especially with new people. It didn’t help that while I’m not good at naturally reading people’s body language, I have studied psychology and what certain poses mean and this one guy had his arms crossed almost the entire time and it made me very uneasy. I couldn’t tell if he was mad, upset, bored… Most people follow a certain set of psychological rules for body language, but I’m not sure if he was, or if he just has different body language. Either way, it bothered me. So on the way home, I tried to distract myself from crying and this guy stopped in the middle of the road so my husband slammed the brakes on and the guy behind us almost hit us. Scared the crap out of me. My heart felt like it tried to jump through my chest and I tensed up so much it hurt my neck. Of course all I could think at the time was how much it would hurt my neck if we got hit because of how tense I got! Lol.

So instead of sleeping, I’m a big bundle of nerves and anxiety and frustration. I am highly upset, and am thinking I should just let myself cry about it, as petty as it all seems. Oh boy, you spent an hour getting ignored again! Nothing new there! But it is still upsetting, and I don’t know why I even said yes. I should have continued to say no. “No, I’m sorry, tomorrow I have to get up early and drive for a while, and I want to rest today after all that house work.” But it’s like I just can’t say no… I hate people right now and I wish I could just not deal with them ever. My husband is currently holed up in his computer room, playing video games… I don’t know what I want from him but I feel like I just really need him right now. 

So tell me again how I can’t shoot…

Target

This morning, up until about 4:30 as my in-laws were walking up the driveway, I had forgotten we were going shooting to test out my new scope. I was still trying to recuperate from yesterday (more testing with the psychologist) and was planning on having a nice quiet evening watching the new NCIS. I was still in my PJ’s, doing laundry and preparing dinner. I had just gotten my baby to sleep and my toddler was having fun helping me out. Oh well, I need excitement in my life… I still can’t believe I forgot!

Well, anyway, I have a Ruger Mark III Hunter, a not so little .22 pistol and I got a scope for Christmas for it. It’s in a nice shiny silver case that locks and has three safeties and I never keep it loaded. Ammo is in a locked case kept elsewhere. I am much more comfortable defending my home with a sword and/or dagger. Especially with kids in the house, because kids are inherently stupid. But I still do enjoy shooting. I can really only shoot a .22 anyway, the higher calibers are too painful. I have very sensitive hearing and I can also feel something like a .45. It jars me and it hurts. And I am so sick of people telling me “It doesn’t hurt.” Oh, so now you’re an expert on how I feel things? Great, let me just get a hammer and bash your toe it. It shouldn’t hurt, right? Because I sure as heck can’t feel it! Lol. Hmm, what is “empathy” again?

And that was what really set me off today. I was happily shooting my target and lining up my scope, so my targets had holes all over the place. I wasn’t worried, I just wanted to see if I could get the scope as accurate as I could. One of the range masters came over and told me my stance wasn’t correct. See, I like to have my arms at my side and they wanted me to have my elbows out in a position that is just plain uncomfortable for me. They also wanted my hands positioned differently, but again, not comfortable with it. I do what works for me and is comfortable for me while still being safe and secure. That little talk just annoyed me. I figured they get a lot of people in there that don’t know what they’re doing. I’ve been shooting since…. I don’t know, I feel like I’ve always had a gun, although I think I started with bow and arrow. Either way…

What annoyed me more was the guy who came up after and I can’t remember exactly what he said, but something along the lines that I should shoot a higher caliber or my stance would have to change with a higher caliber. So I told him I can’t shoot a higher caliber because it hurts. I guess he took it wrong because he told me he bet he could teach me to shoot a higher caliber. So I told him I’ve been shooting since I can remember and have shot higher caliber, have shot black powder rifles, etc, and it hurts too much, I can’t shoot them. And as he walked off he said, “If you won’t, then you can’t.” I can’t explain why that ticked me off so much. I’m still irritated by it. I mean, on the one hand it’s like, DUH!! That’s what I SAID. And at the same time, I just feel like there was more to his statement than just words. I don’t know what hidden connotation he said it with, maybe if someone more socially able had heard him they’d be able to tell me. Was he frustrated with me? Did he just not get that I’m super sensitive and can’t handle the explosions? I had a hard enough time with the .45’s on either side of me and that was with ear protection. I can guarantee that if I were deaf, I would still most definitely know when such a weapon was fired. I can feel it in my body, it resonates, sends a shock wave.

So, in my irritation, I shot the crap out of my target. My grouping was the neatest and tightest on the entire range, thank you very much. I think I went through 400 rounds or so before I realized my scope had wiggled two of the screws loose and was falling off…

I can’t explain why I’m bothered so much by it all… Maybe it’s just how tired I am. Maybe it’s because I was still getting over being surprised. I need to go to sleep now. My poor babies were not happy while I was gone and I don’t blame them. The toddler cried until about ten minutes before we got home. He was still crying in his sleep when I walked in 😦 My baby was so happy to see me and nursed to sleep (and then was woken up by the dogs and had to be nursed back to sleep again…) I don’t want to do ANYTHING tomorrow. NOTHING. ugh. screw this crap.

Social rules

Talking about my husband’s family is difficult for me, as they’re a tricky people… I dunno, it’s like there’s some weird set of secret social rules that I really don’t want to tread on, and writing anything down about them, even if I would love to tell them in person, if they ever found out, I would hate for them to take it the wrong way and start a family feud. I am, after all, notorious for screwing up. So while the chances of them finding this blog are slim, it’s still possible. And I honestly love them, they are my family too. So even if they took something I said incorrectly, it would still be my fault for saying it in the first place. But… at the same time, it really bothers me that I can’t just up and say whatever I want, especially something that bugs the crap out of me. There are so many social rules that boggle my mind…

My husband and I inadvertently caused a small fight in the family just a couple weeks after our wedding but not sending some of his family a thank you card. He has never met these people before, they live in another country even, and they were calling his grandma, not us! to complain about us not sending them a thank you card. Um, yeah, like I want to thank you now? We were on our honeymoon! If someone has a problem with me, I want them to come to me. No one else, but ME. I made a mistake, let me fix it. Ugh. So I have to tread gently so as to not make another stupid mistake like forgetting something so crucial as a thank you card. Don’t get me wrong, I like to thank people. I even learned how to say thank you in 20 some odd languages and leave thank you notes behind in restaurants using all the languages. But I am HORRIBLE, downright DREADFUL at remembering to actually send anything through the post. I have this amazing friend who is working in Germany and I have been horrible to him, forgetting to send him his Christmas presents and birthday presents… He leaves there soon and I want to get him his presents before he leaves… it’s been years. Ugh.

So the fact that I have to remember certain things makes me want to forget everything and just not tell anything to anyone. I wrote a post elsewhere once saying I had a suicide headache that made me want to bash my head into the wall and someone took it to mean I was suicidal and they freaked out, wondering who was going to take care of the kids! So I have to watch what I post in public apparently. This blog is rather secluded. No one in my family knows about it and it’s hard to say if they’ll ever run across is and even put 2+2 together. Part of me wishes they would see it. I hate being all secretive. But I’m paranoid, too. That’s an entirely different blog post. And something I need to talk to my therapist about.

I guess what all started this was that the other day, my mother in law (MIL) came over. She doesn’t outright tell us what she’s thinking, but she’ll make little remarks that, from talking to my husband, seem to have a much deeper meaning. Such as when she said that she’ll just put things away wrong on purpose means that I’m screwing up my job as a housewife by not keeping things to her standards. I guess she expects the house to be spotlessly clean 24/7? My husband is the one who translates her comments, although I think she’s getting more blatant because the other day she came over and complained that no one had done any work since the last time she was here. I know it’s been 20 something years since she had a baby in the house but you’d think she’d remember it’s not that easy. I HATE, absolutely positively HATE DESPISE ABHOR LOATHE ANYONE messing with my stuff. I have always been this way and it’s not going to change. So to have someone come over and feel they are entitled to clean however they want, and to do it wrong on purpose, makes me feel so violated and angry and hurt. Telling her to not clean while she’s over here is like talking to a brick wall, too. I guess she doesn’t think we’re serious, or maybe like we’re using reverse psychology? The worst was while I was in the hospital and she came over and cleaned in my room. I was freaked out for at least a week until my husband blew up at me. He didn’t understand. I don’t think he understands still, the intensity of the feelings I get. I lose myself, I freak out so bad, I can’t think straight.

And I guess that’s another reason that his family doesn’t know how bad I’m really doing. As far as they know, I’m doing fine, just have some seasonal allergies. They may have their suspicions, but we won’t tell them. Not with how they react. Which is really kind of sad. When my husband picked up his motorcycle, he didn’t tell his dad first because he was afraid his dad would try to talk him out of it, talk him out of that bike, etc. His dad was so vehemently against my husband ever getting a bike. He was hurt when he found out his son got a motorcycle but now they’re cool. My husband has already decided that he’s not going to tell his parents if our sons get diagnosed with anything. Or if I do. I know they won’t believe me anyway. My MIL didn’t believe when I told her that my grandpa was on the spectrum. I can’t help it if I hide it when I’m around them. Besides, everyone else is so talkative and I hold back so much, I don’t think anyone even notices. I don’t like their topics anyway 😦 They usually talk about how someone is doing this that and the other. I prefer to talk about the why or something else entirely.

I don’t give a crap about social bullcrap. I don’t give a crap if someone doesn’t like how my house is never spotless. I could spend every moment, from waking to sleeping cleaning, and ignore my sons, and I still don’t think it’d stay clean. I have two dogs, two kids, a husband, two cats, and two rabbits, and my husband has people over all the time. I have to do laundry, cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I’m breastfeeding my baby still and plan on doing it for quite a while longer still, I have plants to take care of, and my toddler is always trying to help me in everything I do. I’m not going to be perfect. I tried, I tried so hard to be a superwoman, but I realized it was doing us more harm than good and so I had to let go. I had to give up trying to be perfect. My husband had to let go of the idea too, that it’s just not possible for me to live up to a perfect expectation. The comments of “Well when I was —- I did it” and similar still hurt, but I’m not them. I have problems and I try not to let people know about them, because I don’t want their pity. I don’t want sympathy. It does me no good, and it really doesn’t do anyone else any good either. 

What good does it do to tell someone I have bad food allergies that are currently making me live off meat and water, while I’m trying to breastfeed a baby, and I live in constant pain because I have fibromyalgia, and a neuropathy that may or may not be related to that, that I get asthma along with my allergies and have to use an inhaler… Some days are better than others and I can really get a lot done, but some days it’s a struggle just to get up. Today I was trying to feed the baby and ended up having a horrible coughing fit. I was crippled and the force of the coughing was so severe it felt like my face was going to explode. My face did swell up a bit and my airways became swollen and made it hard to breathe. I was unable to think, unable to act, just laid on the floor, drooling, snot coming out my nose, coughing. It eventually subsided and I was able to think again enough to grab my inhaler. Parts of it I felt like I was going to stop breathing all together. It was terrifying. My neck still hurts and feels swollen and it was hours ago. I suppose it could be stupidity that I haven’t gone to the doctor about it yet, but honestly, what are they going to do that isn’t already being done? I have my meds and my inhaler… It is possible I might need an epi pen soon, especially considering it isn’t just food causing this but smells as well. I’ve never had it so bad before and it’s freaking me out. I can’t get in to see my doctor until the 30th…

I’m a bundle of bad emotions right now and I don’t know how to sort through them. I have to wake up early tomorrow so I can go to my psychologist appointment for further ASD testing… If she concludes I am not on the spectrum, I really don’t know how I’ll feel. There is something going on, and hopefully if it isn’t an ASD, we’ll find out what it is. Can “Weird” be a diagnosis?

Ugh… and now I don’t know what to eat anymore… I’m afraid to eat. The food lover is afraid to eat.

Venting/freewrite (warning)

I am a ball of emotions that are tumbling around in this red world full of emptiness. There is nothing, there is no one living being, there are no plants, there is no water. Only the stones that build the layers upon layers of bridges and plateaus. No ceiling, nor floor, nor walls can be seen. I feel empty, I feel lost, I feel confused, I feel angry, I am full of rage, I feel depressed. I want to scream, I want to break things and throw things, and scream. Holding it inside is something I’m used to. I cannot let it out anymore and it kills me. It’s eating me from the inside out. Writing it out is my therapy, and it’s the best one I have. I am stressed, I am worried, terrified, and my dreams are full of fear and helplessness. 

I wrote a part of a dream I recently had down. “Danny lay curled up in the fetal position, not daring to move. Fear had paralyzed him. He was painfully aware of his nakedness and vulnerability, but he no longer cared. What did it matter with the monster still nearby? Never had he felt so powerless. He heard a grunt and shuffling sounds as if the monster was getting up again. He prayed it would just ignore him and leave. Hearing the footsteps come towards him, his panic flared. No no no no no no. He whispered over and over again. Not again, please not again. A strangled cry escaped his lips as a large hand gripped his neck. He knew it was futile but he fought with everything he had. His attempts got a laugh out of his attacker. He was picked up, flailing, and thrown like a ragdoll through the air, landing in a crumpled heap. He pushed himself and stood up, trying to run away, but a foot caught him in the back and he fell down again. Gasping for air, he tried again, knowing the beast was toying with him as a cat would a mouse. Sometimes the mouse could escape if the cat got careless.

It let him run for a while, giving him a fleeting bit of hope, before easily catching up with him. He knew the second before he was going to get caught and prepared himself. It grabbed a leg and hung him embarrassingly upside down. The monster wasn’t that much taller than Danny, so his head almost hit the ground. Seeing a chance, he grabbed a leg and in a swift motion pulled himself to it and bit as hard as he could. He was rewarded with a yell and was promptly dropped on his head. Lights flashed before his eyes but he scrambled up and ran again. The beast was through playing games and was on him like fire, beating him with its fists.

Danny lay sprawled on his back on the ground, barely aware that the monster had stopped beating him. He was gasping for air, but his chest hurt so badly to breathe. His attacker let him rest a little before grabbing an arm and flipping him over. Danny closed his eyes and cried, unable to fight it anymore.

There’s so much more to it… I tried to write it down with as much feeling as I could, so that anyone reading it could feel within their very soul the helplessness, the futility, the feeling of being trapped yet trying so desperately to escape, grasping at any glimmer of hope. Crying only releases a little of what is trapped inside. There is a monster inside and I can’t let it out, even though I desperately want to. I think it would do more harm than good, but perhaps it does more harm being kept locked up. Maybe if I let it out, people would realize I’m not as well off as they think. Haha, like I want them to think I’m actually dangerous. I’m just in pain, agonizing lonely desperate delirious pain. I don’t want to die, I just want to be free. I want to soar with the birds, swim with the fish, run with the horses. Their lives are harsh, but they have a freedom I desperately long for.