I've been trying to get with Latka for forever. Latka has constantly denied my request for a romantic relationship. "Not today", "Maybe later", "Now is just not a good time" " I like you but not yet", and so on. He recently moved halfway across the world for grad school. Me being who I am I'm not going to let 14 hour time difference keep me from pursing them. So I decided to just declare that we are in a romantic relationship and see if they refuted it. And it worked! We are now in a romantic relationship.
This is an unedited blog about my thoughts, my life, and my experiences living it. I leave it unedited so I can actually watch myself grow. It forces me to acknowledge my mistakes and learn from them. Feel free to leave comments
2/27/19
Skittles: day 103
Hi, my name is J Skittles, and I'm addicted to love.
It's been 103 days since I've actively pursued Amoriartii. In that time I've pined, I've written to them (didn't send), I thought about them, stalked their Facebook and Instagram, I've typed out messages and deleted them, I stared up at the Moon hoping that they were looking at it too, I've missed them, I've longed for them, dreamed about them, cried about them, made myself sick over them, made excuses to talk to them, and watch them from across the room. In short recovery is not going well. In addictions anonymous the steps are basically all the same. I am still on step 1. My life has become unmanageable. I'm sick on admitting to being powerless. I don't know if there is really a line between addiction and love. I hear people would kill for what they're dicted to, but I think people would also kill for the ones they love. The struggle is between calling it an addiction and calling Amoriartii my soulmate. It feels like I just know that we could work. I think it's supposed to be terrifying. I think you're supposed to have to change. I think it's supposed to make you better. All of that would have to happen for Amoriartii and I to be together. We have to learn to talk and trust. We have to do those two things that scare us the most. Everything else is just so easy, it just falls into place, its effortless. Or I'm a crazy delusional addict. It's never going to work and I have to let it go. Hope, optimism, faith. Despair, pessimism, facts. I don't know which one is reality.
Thank you
2/23/19
Skittles: motivation.
Recently my dad asked me what motivates me. What makes me wake up and keep going when things are hard. I looked puzzled and confused. After a second I said my fault. But honestly, I don't know, I've just been going through the motions with no drive. I have an end goal but no real reason to get there other than it would be a better life than mine now. I decided I would think about this. I have decided that love motivates me. Both platonic, when my life is full of close friends I spend a lot of 1 on 1 time with or romantic love. I thrive when I'm sincerely in love. I suffer when I'm not. I am more productive, happy, and caring when I'm in love. I'm dead inside otherwise. I'm constantly thinking about love, actively trying to find love, and I do well when I have it. I think love is what motives me and with out it to fill me I am just a hallow reanimated corpse.
Daily struggles
I'm upset that pop music about love, relationship, and heartbreak since November 2018 have been about my relationship with Amoriartii
2/21/19
Skittles: the Rents
It's interesting watching my parents separately(because they're divorced and don't talk) come to the slow realization that I don't give a fuck about them. Not in the sense that they don't matter to me. Just that they're not my priority. I've come to this decision based on 3 facts.
1: I'm depressed. In treatment I learned that I have to prioritize myself and my happiness. My therapist told me again and again I care too much about what my parents think. I may have overcorrected I won't know for a while. However, one thing really clicked with me. Nothing will matter if I'm dead. So my parents and I don't share the same priorities anymore because they want me to get my life together and I want to make sure I still have a life tomorrow.
2: They were shitty parents. I have no desire to get into all the trauma. I did enjoy the freedoms of performing well and seeming relatively trustworthy. They didn't care then and I don't care now. They manipulate easy and always have. I just got tired of doing all the work of hiding that fact from them. the feelings of betrayal that they have currently a feeling like they never knew me is a fact of known since I was eight. They need to catch up.
3: They are parents. I would have to do something pretty messed up for them to disown or stop supporting me. I have done terrible things and they got over it and came back. I stopped talking to 1 of them for 2 years. Then that same parent without reason or explanation for me let me quit school and move back home. One of them I maxed out 2 of thier credit cards in a year without their knowledge. They kicked me out when they found out, then about 6 months later wanted me to move back in. Both of those things were done as acts of vengeance so don't go condemning me just yet. I might explain later
I would never jeopardize my parents' futures. I would also never make their lives unlivable. Everything I do is irritating and inconvenient that best. But I need to do me. So when it comes to a making them happy, fuck 'em.
2/18/19
Skittles: messages I sent joe in the past 24hrs
Joe is my youngest little Sib and he's away at University on a full ride scholarship. We are friends on Snapchat and I message him every once in awhile. It is Monday morning and I wanted share with you all the messages I sent him Sunday. Please enjoy.
*August 2017*
Now don't be entertaining those girls while you're away at college.
*February 2019 Joe is dancing at college entertaining those girls*
I didn't send you to college to entertain those girls
*I, his sister, did not send him at all because I am a sister not his mother and also don't own the university that gave him the scholarship*
Joe "You right. My bad"
Me: It's cold let's go to school in the Virgin islands they're offering free tuition. We could be roommates that never see each other.
Joe: You said girls in bikinis, cabana boys in tiny tight shorts, sandy beaches, and drinks with umbrellas in them?
Me: My bad. What I meant to say is that they quadrupled tuition and ended their scholarship program.
Joe: Oh. I understand autocorrect be on some bullshit.
*Joe playing Monopoly at midnight*
Ummmm.... What are you doing playing Monopoly instead of working towards only one? Let me talk to you second my man.I would like to inform you that you are in fact Black. Blackity blacking blackness, African American, negro * as Spanish word*, extra in Roots, R&B...lack, extra in the Color Purple, meanwhile somewhere in Wakanda, Morgan Freeman looks just like your grandpa and you don't know how old either of them is, you better put on a jacket, your eldest Aunt still looks 40, your parents listen to Motown, Soul Train, Super Fly, cocoa butter, cook good eat good, Black Twitter Black, your life matters black, bet awards, your parents talk about funk, Idris Elba looking ass, say it loud, the darker the berry the sweeter the juice and you're super sweet, has rhythm, visually fits in at any HBCU, the Black Power Fist, February is your history month, mom went to highschool with Michelle Obama and they got their hair done at the same place, as in here for known as forever and in perpetuity Black. As is such being the case your dad will not talk to Mr.Millhouse down the street and get you a nice sweet corner office like Chad. You will be lucky if Tyler the security guard lets your mailroom ass into the building.
Get you nose out of Brook's nether regions and put it in your goddamn school books. No they are not the same thing. One is a lot more expensive, harder to understand, convoluted, and slightly harder to acquire and it's not that girl Brook. Though they're both overpriced, will give you a headache, are illegal to steal and traffic, are easily confused by those who have subpar reading skills (or dyslexics), and base their value on some old white guy.
*Yes I did give hypothetical Brook daddy issues*
2/14/19
2/13/19
Skittles: a pain worst than heartbreak
I struggle when finding out that I have made my friends uncomfortable. I love my friends more than anything in the world. They have back. They are loyal, loving, supportive and make me feel safe. I want that to go both ways. Heartbreak sucks but the guilt I feel when I hurt my friends is how people can tell I have a conscience. I go out of my way again and again to show up for my friends. I give them my food, my clothes, whatever, I'd go without so they can have. I know I need to change and I'm working with them to figure out exactly how. I also know that my guilt and shame are of no use to them and I need to deal with it. I need to pick myself up so I can do better. But that's were I'm at a loss. I'm devastated. I don't want to hurt people. I'm already intimating and scary, people feel like they don't have a choice around me, that it's my way or nothing. I deal with that. But my friends, they should know me well enough to know I care about their feelings, opinions, boundaries, thoughts and well being (physical and mental). I talk all the time about the fact that there is little difference between how I love a partner and how I love my friends. That's because they are both founded in the same respect, understanding, and personal investment theories. I am a better partner because my friends have taught me what true love is. Now finding out that people I've know for 5 or more years don't feel safe with me just decimates the foundation of the method in which I base all and every type of relationship. I've nursed these people back to health when they fell ill. I've taken these people home and tucked them in when they were black out drunk. I've been there for more heart breaks than I can count. I've spent nights snuggling asleep with them. They never said anything, out of fear, out of shame, I don't know. It's so fucked up to think they trust me to take care of them but not enough to tell me when I'm hurting them. They tell me everything, except that they are ahead afraid of me.
2/12/19
Skitt: give credit where credit is due.
The last three actual post have questions from Latka. I have a few things I need to finish and plus I want to write I don't know if it'll get done. I might just keep answering questions from friends for content.
Skittles: Depression and Intense emotions
I briefly explained and constantly bring up the fact that I feel emotions stronger than what has been deemed typical. There have been studies on the spectrum in which people experience emotions. That is how we understand psychopath as not having strong feelings of guilt, anxiety, or fear. Also how we understand people being overcome by the intensity at which they feel which is different than suffering from a mental illness. Understanding the spectrum of experiencing emotions helps psychologist and psychiatrist understand mental illness as well. I am a deep feeler with depression, plus an interesting back story and that makes life interesting. Before I start I need to make it clear that professionals in the mental health field and Neuroscience field that deals with psychological and emotional well-being typically agree that "deep feelers" are often misdiagnosed with mood "emotional regulation" disorders. I have been diagnosed with several mood disorders and insomnia, which is thought to be a byproduct of my mood disorders, currently all with my doctors knowledge that I am a deep feeler.
I have Chronic Major Depression with Seasonal Affective Disorder. My depression the worst in the winter and usually tolerable in the summer. I start declining in the fall and recovering in the spring. I live in a cycle controlled by the weather. Dark and cold means depressed, warm and bright means I'm alright. But sometime due to life, stress, or whatever I'll be terrible in the summer and the winter, because life is unfair. I have ADHD and General Anxiety. My brain moves really fast and makes it hard to concentrate on things I deem boring or unimportant. My brain fixates on things I decide are interesting, tuning out the rest of the world. The house could be on fire, I'm starting to catch on fire, with fireworks, alarms, screams, and sirens, I would not notice. The anxiety makes me feel like my skin is crawling. There's cobwebs covering me or something just ever so lightly brushing up against the tip of the hair on my arms. The anxiety feels like constant impeding doom, short breaths, a tightness in my chest, and a knot in my stomach. The fun thing about having anxiety and ADHD is I constantly have to be doing something as to not succumb to the panic. Riding the bus I'm listening to music, on the train I'm reading a comic, in the car I'm navigating/checking my email/ talking to anyone else in the car/ and preparing for where ever I'm about to be. If I don't have my phone, or it's dead, I have my notebook so I can write and doodle. I can't idly sit by. On top of all of these I build up tolerances to drugs I'm on for long periods of time so I constantly have to switch. Mental health drugs for all of my stuff though need to work as a team. If I switch 1 it means I'm more than likely going to have to change them all. Finding a new combination that works is a constant game of guess and check made more complicated by my seasonal cycle.
So what is it like to have all of that going on when I already feel more than the average person. Sometimes it's amazing. I get higher than most people. I know a happiness few will ever know. But most of the time it sucks. Knowing great happiness but not to live in that constant happiness frequently enough is pain. I know depths, layers, and complexities of sadness, pain, and hurt; a profound insight I never asked for nor wanted.
There is a physical aspect to depression, lack of energy, sleepiness, not eating. However, I not only feel the emotional symptoms to an exceptional degree but the physical symptoms as well, but emotionally. Having no energy emotionally manifest to a sensation of being all but dead. My limbs don't ache like I worked out to much, or from injury. They feel especially heavy. Each finger feels like weighs considerably more than I remember, and more than it should. To wake up just as sleepy as you went to bed despite having slept 9 hours is a special type of hell. I constantly wonder if I even went to sleep. Hunger is a physical and emotional feeling. As a deep feeler the emotional hunger, or lack thereof drowns out my body's physical hunger for days. I only realize I haven't eaten once I start getting light-headed or having headaches. For a about a year I lived without ever feeling hungry.
The emotional symptoms of depression take a special toll. Apathy is the first thing listed as a symptom, probably because it starts with a. I wish I felt apathy. I've been numb before and I distinctly remember hating it. I know I prefer to feel nothing to pain but not by much. But I digress. Hopeless and a lack of interest are two that I feel but not in the traditional sense. I feel there is no hope that I will lead a happier life. I feel all hope is lost on not wanting to die/be dead. I know that I shouldn't want to die. I don't want to kill myself either but the longing and fantasizing persist even when I'm feeling better. But I don't generally feel helpless as a person or in my future in general. I never want to do anything. I lack interest in things I like, love, dislike, and hate. I have no interest anymore. When it comes to emotional opinions I'm apathetic. I live to travel and I love it. However, the day of I am always filled with buyers remorse. I snooze my alarms 3 times thinking to myself, "I could say I'm sick and cancel no one would suspect a thing." By the 4th alarm I convince myself that I can always leave if I don't enjoy myself. Bargaining with myself is the only way I get to go to anything or get anything done. Finally there's the sadness, sadness that is oceans deep. I get lost in the sadness like a row boat to far from shore, no map, no compass, and no knowledge of the stars. The sadness, like the ocean, is filled with far too many creatures that would feast on me if I ever threw myself to the depths.
The emotional side of my depression is so intense that it causes physical manifestations. All the above mentioned feelings that I experienced generally manifest as an illness. Hopeless, lacking the will to live, sad, and honestly having no interest in staying alive, my body gives up. Right around the time I got diagnosed, I was fighting off a myriad of diseases one by one. I kept getting sick. I would either having some illness or my body would attack itself which caused physical pain. The doctors said I had some sort of autoimmune disease. They couldn't find the cause and it wasn't like anything that would be genetic. They couldn't put me on an immunosuppressant because my immune system fluctuated too wildly. It was either too low which led to constant hospitalization or too high where it would attack itself which lead to pain. Psychosomatic they said. No will to live no immune system to fight. A longing die, you're literally killing yourself from the inside. I had to get better mentally in order to stabilize myself physically.
It was very hard for me to fight for my mental heath when it was just eating regardless of not being hungry, going outside, personal hygiene, spending time with friends despite being too sad to leave my bed, taking my meds everyday, and talking to my therapist once a week. It was effortless to improve my mental health when I was physically dying. It's a lot easier to know you're alive when constantly have to hear the sound of your own heartbeat. Physical illness gave me something to fight, there was a clear enemy, the virus, the bacteria, the misbehaving white blood cells, ect. I could measure my progress and get better. There was a finite end goal. I would momentarily find the will to live in my physically deteriorating state. Indignant, I was not going to die in a hospital. Every suicidal person has a picturesque image in their mind of how they want to die. Ironically my sick brain decided on something rather poetic. I wanted to die, but I wanted to die living. My cause of death shall living a full, all be it wild and reckless, life. Something I cannot very well do in the throes of depression. To die I have to get better, and ideally, when I'm better I won't want to die. For in the moment of all that extremely loud noise and incredible lights I will realize I am alive, and then I will live.
2/9/19
Daily struggles
I don't know how to love people who don't know how they want to be loved. I know how I want to be loved and I can teach you. I need the same from love.
Skittles: Can't read my poker face
To say that depression caused me to start experiencing emotions in a stronger way would be false. I have always been this way. Deep feelers or emotionally intense are two terms for the same thing: one who has an acute sense of experiencing their emotions. Dramatic doesn't even begin to scrape the tip of the iceberg. But I am slightly different then those who are typically described as deep feelers. Primarily because of other people's lack of ability to perceive my emotions. But I am a deep feeler I just go about handling it drastically different from others.
I keep my business to myself. I try to limit those who know my actual intentions, my end goal, my feelings, and my leverage. I am secretive and don't trust easy. I'm even secretive about being secretive. I talk so much about certain parts of my life it makes people feel like they know me. What could someone who talks so much about themselves possibly be hiding? Over sharing in one area makes people forget about everything else. I know that is manipulative to say and do. Manipulation is part of being secretive. So is controlling one's feelings.
Fake it until you make it has layers of different implications to me. My home life growing up wasn't all it was cracked up to be. However, all anyone saw was a happy healthy child. I did have problems at first in school. I had to go to socialization therapy from kindergarten to third grade. The idea of socialization therapy is to teach a person doesn't naturally understand social cues to understand. That's not what I did. I learned to read people. Then I took that and used it to my advantage. I already had practice, because of what was going on in my house, how to suppress sad emotions. No matter how bad I wanted to cry I could put a smile on my face and laugh. I can seemed just as happy as anyone else while actually dying inside. Thanks Mom. Now I could also accurately fake other emotions, angry, scared, and frustrated.
As deep feeler, my normal way to feel and express those feelings is too much. My happy is the fairy tale ending. My sad is rivers of tears and valleys of misery. My anger could fuel a war. My fear would make normal people make senseless and inhumane mistakes like locking children up in internment camps. Processing my feelings can be quick or it can take months. Something that I felt years ago can be triggered at a moment's notice, by a sight, sound, thought, or smell. I verily experience feelings. My emotions often come with a physical manifestation. I get so scared I shake. I experienced euphoric state, similar to a drug-induced high, when I'm really happy. I get so frustrated I get headaches. I have gotten so angry that I overheated and had a nosebleed. I get so sad my immune system basically gives up and I get really sick. I was so heartbroken in December I actually got diagnosed with broken heart syndrome (symptoms that mimic a heart attack can cause extreme chest pain).
All of this happens and no one is the wiser. That is because I could basically control how I outwardly show emotions. I had problem not laughing at inappropriate moments. I can still cry on cue. That is how I made it through grade school. I avoided giving the bullies the satisfaction of seeing me scared or cry. But just made me more of a target because everybody thought but I didn't feel. I played teachers, friends, and family. I wouldn't call it years of pretending though. To really be able to make the emotion seem real they basically have to be real. It wasn't hard lying to the outside world when you believe the lie yourself. I compartmentalize really easy. While I was in grade school I believe that I had four different versions of myself at play. My mom's house, school, swim team, and dad's house. None of them with the real me. Each one liked different things, spoke with a different vocabulary, different friends, had different goals, and a slightly different backstory. I crafted each character and then I lived out her life. Each different character genuinely reacted as a typical person would given their fake history, ideals, and experiences.
*** SIDE NOTE***
Now one of the versions of me that I have play is more truly myself. I have more down time to just myself with no one around to be who I truly am. I have slowly begun to choose individuals who can actually know me. So far I've chosen two and only actually began show myself to one of them. This blog though is the most honest representations of myself. Which I allowed because of the anonymity. There no consequences for in the real world. No one is able to figure me out still. You all know me without being able to effect me.
******
It wasn't difficult to transition between everything that was going on. It was difficult to remember who I was, truly. I built the fantasies to escape the reality. It was difficult to leave behind the fantasy that I loved so much for the reality that I hated. That was the beauty and the nature of the beast. Create a character to escape the harsh reality, live as that character, love that lie of a life, become that character. There's no end to the lie of a life that I've created except for my actual death. The fiction and my biography are intricately entwined. For I am the lie and the truth.
Skitt: What does love feel like?
For me love usually feels different for each person. But I'll talk about the many faces and shapes my great loves took. I would say that I have been in a relationship with 3 of the people I've ever felt "great love" for Kimmie, Amoriartii, and Vendetta, respectfully. I think other than all feeling relatively the same that these "great loves" are like love of a lifetime. It is a powerful, strong, and distinct feeling. My love for them came from ever fiber of my being. My love for them was so intense the emotion had a physical manifestation. I could feel it just as much as I could feel getting kicked in the shin.
Loving them felt like longing. I wanted to be with them as much as possible and I missed them when we were a part. Loving them felt like motivation. I was so efficient when I was with them. I got my homework done early so that I could be with them. I worked hard to be able to buy them nice things. I wanted to be my best for them. I would move mountains with no hesitation, they didn't even have to ask. It looked like constant consideration. I planned my schedule around time dedicated to them. I would see things that they might like and just buy them. It felt exciting. I was always giddy to see them. It felt happy. It felt like having butterflies in your stomach. I was always so nervous around them. I didn't want to mess up. I wanted the kiss to be just right. I wanted to keep the right place when we were walking. I didn't want to hold thier hand too tight. It felt right. I never had any doubt that we weren't meant to be. When I was with them it felt like that was exactly where I was suppose to be in that moment. I knew that each of them were right for me despite how they ended. If I could choose not do be with them to avoid the heart ache after, I would still choose to be with them. It felt inspiring. How could I be better every day. How can I show them I love them. It felt sexy. To be wanted and to lust for them was addicting. It felt passionate. Fire running through my body wouldn't have made my blood as hot as it was for them. It felt like admiration. Most of the time I could just look at them and say " Wow! What an amazing human." I respected each of them so much. It looked like making them 1 of my top priorities. Keeping them in mind always influenced my decisions. It felt like distress. Watching the person you love struggle or be in pain is harder than experiencing it yourself. All I wanted to do was make it better and I was often powerless to do so. It felt like understanding. For the most part, I feel like they all understood me and where I was at their approximate time in my life. Love can feel like a warm peaceful filling feeling would just come over me.
There was one love, I won't call it's a "great love" but it sticks out in my head. It was different from the ones above. My love for Godric was calm and steady. My love for him felt safe. My love for him felt comfortable. It felt easy. The love I had for him put me at ease. My love for him felt peaceful. It wasn't a feeling that overcame me. Sometimes love feels like the emotion it's taking over you in a rather forceful way. This wasn't like that. The love wasn't imposing. It didn't take over my life. The love was passive. The love felt inviting and nice.
It hard to describe what it feels like to think about the same person for a period of time everyday you wake up, through the day, and right before you go to sleep. For me it's almost always sudden, like being hit by a giant wave. Then the feeling just grows and gets stronger everyday. Love songs start making sense. When you're in love you understand poetry and art about love. You want the best for them, more than you want the best for yourself. You would do anything to keep them from harm. To know you would sacrifice everything for them. Their love for you is your most precious possession. You would die for them, but more importantly you would live for them. Love can be a person's whole reason for living. I kept a text on my phone that said "I love you", just in case I got into a life threatening situation and was dying. I wanted them to know my last thought in this world would have been about them and I would want my last words to be telling them I loved them. I kept a letter detailing my love for them in my stuff at home just in case I died and couldn't tell them beforehand. Love is more addictive than any drug I've tried. Love can be the motivation behind the strongest frustrations. To love some and let them know is one of the bravest acts a person can do. Loving someone is to be vulnerable. Loving someone is to trust. Love caused the worst pain I've ever felt but it was worth it.
2/7/19
Daily struggles
My favorite pick-up line is: I don't mind sharing you with your work because I'm poly like that.
2/4/19
Daily struggles
I think my favorite part of my kink relationship with my play partner is part of me Doming her is just showering her with gifts and her pouting about it.