Good People

Some of you will be tempted to remind me, after Bad Children, that I’m not a bad person. Even that I am a good person. But it’s not really a question of judgement; I don’t really believe there are good or bad people in the first place. It’s a matter of faith. I have unshakeable faith that the real me is harmful to others. And I’ve constructed a reality where your reassurance that I’m not is evidence that I’ve tricked you into liking me. Is evidence of the specific way in which I am already hurting you.

Of course that view isn’t very kind to you. It assumes you don’t know your own mind, or that you’re incapable of understanding the way that I’m harmful. So I don’t want to believe. And in fact sometimes I can arrange for my brain to think that I’ve done a sufficiently good job acting like I’m not a monster to stop being one – fake it ’till you make it. But the bits of my brain that remember being 4-years-old are very sure that a real human wouldn’t cause so much pain, and when that toddler gets a vote I’m back to inconsolable monster.

All of which is to say, I appreciate the idea of your reassurances, but they are unlikely to work. They are more effective if you address them to my logical brain with a more subtle presentation – that I am only sometimes a monster and that I only sometimes hurt people. That my intentions are as irrelevant as anyone else’s and it’s only my behavior and not my mere existence that can be harmful. Or if you address them to my emotional brain with a presentation for the isolated and abused toddler – that you are here to help me with the times I am a monster, and to protect me from the times when Mother is.

It’s been a long time since I cared about the condition of my lips. It’s a thing I learned not to regulate when I lived a life where poor skin condition was unavoidable and lips in the winter were something you hoped to keep from bleeding (to avoid upsetting people who see you bleed) but couldn’t possibly keep in good shape. Eventually I gained independent access to chap stick (via December gifts), which helped, but even then I used it more as an emergency supply – sometimes grease on your face or ears could help a lot in the cold wind. Once I stopped living outside it sort of slipped my mind. But these days is seems important, because makeup and cracked or peeling lips don’t mix. So I’m gonna have to do something about it. I’m glad to know not only that I probably can but that I want to, and not merely to avoid upsetting people. My broader skin condition is still unmanaged, but lips are a win even by themselves [fig 2].

I got to chat with M today, about something that has been on my anxiety list for a long time. Which I really appreciate, because I know it was hard for you to consider. I no longer feel like I’m hanging in space, somehow having pushed a button so wrong that it can’t even be discussed. And I hope sharing your fear helped you feel a little less alone, even though the fear itself is valid and remains intact.

I’ve been thinking about why it’s hard to watch movies these days. Specially by myself, but even a bit with people. One reason is that I used to have taste. I mean, I still have taste but I no longer watch enough movies to find many really good ones. I also feel like I no longer have time – or at least not the inclination – to watch both all the popular movies for culture’s sake and all the good movies for goodness sake. The popular ones can feel like a burden with their terrible, unexamined messages and their intentional recreation of tired tropes. All of which makes me feel like I don’t know any good films anymore. There’s also the bit where engaging in film while I’m alone and anxious reminds me of the times I used it for endless distraction, to keep me awake until I couldn’t do anything but sleep, to keep me from thinking about how terrible my life was, to give me someplace to be inside for a few hours for a medium amount of money. I’m still not sure why I get so twitchy when I’m watching a decent movie and am not overtly anxious before starting, but it’s good to know this much, and I’ll keep poking at it.

I’ve been pretty bad at work this week. Literally no progress on my SRs. I arranged to not have any super old ones coming in but I should try to make some progress tomorrow – one or two of them should be easy to get rid of, and that will make next week better. And there’s no robots so I’ll have a little extra time. But I’ve done fine with deadline work and email and whatnot, so I’m satisfied overall. I’ve been able to not worry about it very much, and to prioritize things I like and need ahead of it without resorting to distraction, so like 5/7 combined score. It would have been tough if this had been a busy week but it wasn’t and only outcomes matter.

I’ve got my care packages just about wrapped up for the month. I’m still expecting 1 or 2 contributions – I need them in the next few days if you want them to ship this month (though there will be a next month’s box also). I sat on slim pickings for a while but I feel like it has all come together in the past few days. There is still a little work to do but I feel like I’ve finally got a plan.

I’m going with Shanda to an appointment with a physician tomorrow. Which hopefully helps me see how humans interact with medical care. And which maybe lets you get more comfortable with the idea of helping me with it. And then a little brick and mortar shopping to facilitate impulse purchases of things too weird or useless to be easy to find a text search, or too cheap for online retailers to stock in-country.

I have been trying to talk about my daily health here. Mostly because I currently do not often even notice let alone track it, as a result of years of not being able to do anything to manage it, and not having the time or energy to do anything at more than survival levels. That’s why I’m great at first aid and have done lots of research on a whole variety of ailments, but it takes me days to notice I can’t breathe. I also have this abuse-based belief thatany discussion of my physical state that isn’t “everything is great I’m not even tired” is a selfish complaint designed to justly manipulate people into feeling bad for me. Which I of course internalize and imagine that feeling bad is just me making excuses for myself, and failing to be accountable for my own life. Only welfare people ¹Welfare Person is a thing Pete used to tell me he was afraid I would become. Sometimes about being ill or injured, certainly about letting him know I was. Sometimes because I got a “B” and he was embarrassed because someone else knew. It’s about average on his racism scale; he doesn’t see how it’s racist but he also isn’t sure racism … Continue reading get sick; real humans arrange their lives to never be at less than 100%. So I’m trying to get used to the idea of sharing about it, in the hopes of getting your help both noticing and figuring out how much to talk about it.

I was going to say I felt mostly fine today, but that’s not quite right. I felt mostly typical today, which I think is probably medium bad in absolute terms, as there are few days when I’m not somewhat hindered by my health. Breathing remains fine and today’s slow walk was no challenge. I even pulled Dog along by a stick for a ways without becoming immediately tired. So that’s pretty good in relative terms but still well below even my typical. I ignored my hunger until noon but did eventually eat, which is medium. It’s hard enough for me to achieve lunch most days so achieving breakfast seems like a stretch, but I shouldn’t imagine them as dependent on each other – I should eat whenever I’m hungry and haven’t eaten recently.

A couple of bouts of tinnitus today on the left; short-lived but louder and still quite distressing. Please don’t let me ignore this if it continues, because silence is very valuable to me. Nothing intestinal that was bad enough to interfere with my day, but also not quiescent – better than average for me but below average for the population. Joints were fine today against light usage. I almost never have anything to say about my muscles regardless of my recent activity or other condition; it’s hard for me to say if that’s because they’re usually fine or because I’ve become immune to noticing. Probably some of both. Minor light sensitivity when I was inside this morning, but nothing persistent once I shielded myself from the daystar; I didn’t go outside until after sunset. Skin improving from recent days so I think I’m past peak in this cyclical ailment, but still a significant amount if inflammation and active sores. Didn’t notice any negative impacts from poorly regulated blood sugar or water levels (beyond being hungry, but my liver seemed to work that out).

I am afraid to share the above, even though I don’t consider any of it secret. It’s all things you could know by watching me, mostly even things you could know by watching me in public. But I’m afraid it will help reveal the monster at my core.

Here are some things I shout about fear, when other people feel trapped by it:

1) You like things you are afraid of. When you think something is a good idea but are also afraid of doing it, you’ll probably like having done it. It will still be scarey to get started, but being afraid doesn’t mean you won’t like the outcome, or that you don’t want to try.

2) You don’t have to be afraid alone. You can not only have help with the scary thing, you can have help with the scary anticipation and decision making. A little bit of figurative and/or literal hand holding can make it much easier to frame your fears in realistic terms and figure out what you want to do. Your anxiety tells you that sharing will make it worse, but I’m pretty sure sharing makes it better.

3) Literally nothing is permanent. Fear can stop you forever if you let it, and keep you from ever knowing if a thing is good or bad. But it’s almost always possible to stop – often even to undo – if you try something and it doesn’t go like you hoped.

I should remember that myself, with respect to my health. To letting my monstrosity be seen. We all should, because fear is a terrible way to make decisions. And we should help each other when we see fear running the show.

ZiB

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Sent from a phone.

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