Forced Alternatives

Lately, I've been waking up in the middle of the night, but able to get back to sleep, and it's awesome. If it's for less than an hour, it's just an opportunity to ensure I wasn't sleeping through some dire news, check on Lady Miss Friday, and sometimes getting to lay there in awe of her sleeping next to me. Unfortunately, I woke around one and just got back to sleep before the sun started rising. Even worse, I had the day off, and I knew I had something I wanted to get done today, it just took me a minute to remember that it was filing the divorce. I'd say even I couldn't be that forgetful, but I think I could. I could also see myself subconsciously trying to put it off and sabotaging myself, though I like to think I have the mindfulness, if that's the right adjective, to avoid it. Even if that was the case, though, I caught myself and it's fine. Also maybe good that I was so tired, because Julian fed the cats at 7:45, and if I was less tired, I'd have already rushed in. Colleen sent a message thanking me for St. Lucia's "Elevate," and also for the lyrics in the Support playlist I made for her last year. (https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLWGgbQUduaUnl4F3PDDCfwdw01hJC15gx&feature=share). Looking at it currently, not everything on the list *perfectly* captures my feelings on the topic, but what those lack in accuracy, they make up for in passion. In other words, I like them and they get an "A" for effort, so close enough. :-)) I am help, and in addition to letting her know I'd be delighted to assist with anything she could need, be it an ear, advice, a ride, whatever, I apologized for it taking this long to have a relationship. I understand why it did, though, don't get me wrong, even if I'm still getting the pieces together.

Even with the Guide and File, it still took me all morning to finish the forms, and looking back, now I wonder if I shouldn't have included a note explaining that the car, which is community property that I'm asking for in the divorce, only replaced my Separate Property car, and the circumstances. I thought I'd still have to print and sign the papers, then file them in person or something, but with the Guide and File, I just have to promise to print and sign them at some point. It feels so wonderful to watch progress happen, especially since Division One Courts are notoriously antiquated. Criminal minute orders are still hand written. I felt like I had something else I wanted to get done, but I was tired and Lady Miss Friday kept asking for treats. Come to think of it, those two things were constant, so it makes more sense why the divorce took so long. Phyllis sent me a broken attachment over messenger, so I took the opportunity to share the news. Trying to stay productive, I bought new sandals. I'd started looking for sandals with paw prints. I also deleted all my saved sign ins from Julian's tablet. Realistically, the fewer reminders we have of each other the better, anyway.

Gary Bell posted something about his self-help guru program and asked for volunteers to talk about it, and in addition to wanting to help my friend, Gary's one of those mysterious new friends that I don't remember Friending, and I've found him fascinating. We scheduled our meeting, I convinced him to meet remotely, and probably good that I did. It turns out he also requested I review the info on the site, but he was patient while I did. I read a bit about mindfulness, and I'd just been thinking about it, so we talked about that. I was thinking of trying to define mindfulness, and and landed on it at least encompassing both self-awareness and a necessary strength, because we're not perfect and therefore not going to like all parts of ourselves. That's maybe part of my Grim Glasses, though I don't remember what alternative way there was to thinking we'd never like every part of ourselves. At one point, I was trying to mention thinking generously/situationally of everyone, and stumbled into that battered woman syndrome trope of explaining away tantrums because "someone" had a bad day. I freaked out, but he calmed me down and we talked about the freak out, too. He also mentioned that my anxiety about Sliding Doors when I reach a junction inserts a *massive* amount of pressure on trying to make the "right" decision. Regulating the nervous system is the first step towards self-care. He recommended Brene Brown - the gifts of imperfection. As gay men, our perfectionism comes from the impression there was something wrong with us, so unless we're perfect, we don't deserve love. Thriving exists in a space of play. It's so incredibly important to not be all work and no play, because that's kind of the difference between existing and living.

Later in the evening, I took some dxm and read through my old journal entries. I feel like I can safely read through the rabbit hole years, especially securely bubbled up on ketamine or similar, but dxm is obviously much cheaper. I didn't make it to them, as I remembered all those nights I overdosed and I couldn't remember the day, year, month, or whatever other very basic facts they asked me to recite. Even worse, I was so far down the rabbit hole I didn't find that at all alarming, just chalked it up to my regular uncertainty on timing. It was obviously still a very, very productive day, and I'm tentatively satisfied with it.