Maypole Madness – The Daily Screed

Got things done today, but not SRs. Did media work and banking and updated the dragon and researched crowd data. Built a balloon staff to work around restrictions on floating and flying devices ¹Though I expect there might be a petty tyrant to fight with about it at the door because I am still using a mylar balloon. I think I’ve got a plan for that eventuality..

I convinced J to come, which should be good. They do better when I request urgent action than when I try to make plans, so I waited until today to make it go. It’s risky of course, because the deadline itself can seem overwhelming, and I’ve only had partial success in the past. But today it worked and I even am going to have them trapped in a car with me for the better part of an hour, so there might be time to research or set up a new heist.

Shanda is all over, and often on the edge of hating me after I get attached to some resentment or frustration or pain that is floating around. I know it will get better when Cassie leaves. I’m worried it might take 9 days to decide you want it to be different, even once the stress is reduced. It’s a pretty common thing for anxiety to demand – that you keep avoiding the feels and hope external changes resolve them. But I’m hopeful. If I can get SRs under control we might be able to make a start on Monday.

A long time ago my therapist asked if I was ever suicidal when I was young. At the time it was easy to answer no, and that’s accurate, but a bit misleading. That thing where Mother smothered me and asked me not to fight back – the thing I could never do well enough to satisfy her – was to quietly will myself to die. I tried to get better at it. Practiced holding my breath, learned to dissociate so I would be passive instead of resistant. But eventually biology overrides even dissociation, and so I learned that I couldn’t commit suicide, at least not without some sort of mechanical assistance ²Not much later I probably could have planned something with a knife or maybe with traffic. But I was really afriad that it wouldn’t work, at least not on the first try, and that it would lead to me being more trapped. If I just was merely incapacitated, perhaps permanently, I would be more dependent not less. I wouldn’t get the relief of death … Continue reading. I was already ready. I was on board to do it when Mother told me to. I was just never good enough to get it done.

So I wasn’t suidical when I was young. I didn’t have enough hope to imagine suicide as an escape. Eventually it came back. I was definitely sure I could die by high school. In undergrad I was pretty confident that I could disappear over a break. Probably not even be noticed as missing until my landlord decided to evict, and even then never found. I imagined a number of options, but I figured the most accessible and reliable would be to walk off-road to someplace real isolated where I could let gravity decide. I could even be drunk when it happened, to make it harder for my body to stop me. It did when I was 4, and I’m far from the only one. But being real drunk would make escape harder and would help exposure kill me if the fall was inconslcusive.

Took the bus to the locks today, as part of a walk to Ray’s. I don’t really like eating there ³I don’t hate it, but it’s expensive and I haven’t really been impressed with anything I’ve ever had there. But it’s hard for Shanda to take out of the list. Not because you love it either, but just because you imagine it’s the “safe” thing to do when eating with people from out of town. I’ve asked for other things but there’s … Continue reading but it was a good transit plan to do walking as transport with almost not time on the street. Health issues in the party cut the ealm short but I did still get to go to the locks, which is a place I like. It’s away from cars and there’s lots of fresh water spray and big machines. At the bypass gates it’s fast and foamy. It’s noisy but the sound is featureless beyond being big – it’s so big it’s not even wet – so you can disappear into it even with people are only a few feet away. At the locks it’s quiet and slow and smooth and you can look out toward the empty Sound below you or the bright city upstream.

ZiB

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Sent from a phone.

Stars for Later[+]

Stars for Later
↑1	Though I expect there might be a petty tyrant to fight with about it at the door because I am still using a mylar balloon. I think I’ve got a plan for that eventuality.
↑2	Not much later I probably could have planned something with a knife or maybe with traffic. But I was really afriad that it wouldn’t work, at least not on the first try, and that it would lead to me being more trapped. If I just was merely incapacitated, perhaps permanently, I would be more dependent not less. I wouldn’t get the relief of death I’d get punishment to go with my paralysis, and the possibility that I’d be stuck with Mother until she was more successful at (presumably negligently and painfully) killing me.
↑3	I don’t hate it, but it’s expensive and I haven’t really been impressed with anything I’ve ever had there. But it’s hard for Shanda to take out of the list. Not because you love it either, but just because you imagine it’s the “safe” thing to do when eating with people from out of town. I’ve asked for other things but there’s so much fear you can’t hear me.