thepnutgallery (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thepnutgallery) wrote2021-02-15 04:34 pm
thepnutgallery) wrote2021-02-15 04:34 pm
Entry tags:
Cure and the Cause
I was sort of vaguely irritated all morning that I'd fucked up my long weekend both by trying to forgo my meds and wasting time beating off. But I had things to do today since I didn't do them yesterday, and I promised Tim I would swing down. I called the smog place, just to make sure they were open, and started getting ready to head out, but ran out of time before I had to hack together some homework for my session with Candace. I hadn't really thought much about last session, which is likely a reflection of much of the subject matter. I owned it at the start of the meeting and replayed Tim telling me her philosophy: You take what you can when you can. Bassically.
Candace was obviously fine with it, we talked some about Houdini dying and the echoes of my rage over Mousey. She noted that Houdini died peacefully instead of filled with pain and terror, and that's obviously why I scream so loud and often over Mousey. The whole fucking reason I saved him was so he didn't die in pain and terror. F. F Minus. On the plus side, we also talked some about mistakes. Kind of apt (AAAPT!), really, since I was just talking about intent. As you know, my dad was the king ofwishful thinking hindsight. He would have legit been disappointed in me for not guessing the right Lottery numbers. If I fuck things up and bad shit happened, that is a world of difference from *wanting* to fuck things up. It's how I decide if the guys my boyfriends cheat on me with are friends or dinner. If you didn't know you were part of my partner cheating on me, all good. If you did, I will do everything in my power to destroy you. I don't happen to have much power, but it's worked here and there. On that note, she sort of deflected from my partners' intent, noting that it probably "seemed like a good idea at the time." I have no fucking poker face. All of my partners who've cheated on me have been well aware of...whatever that insane mixture of vanity, jealousy, and satyriasis is. I keep the red haze from bleeding into a murderous rage over them not just fucking communicating with me by reviewing their motives and recognizing that awkward topics are very hard to bring up. Easier to beg forgiveness (if caught) than ask permission.
I mentioned both my pull to relapse and the many friends of mine who've relapsed. In particular, and I remember going through this with cake, all these holidays got me jonesing. She noted there's always a reason to use. Yay, it's Friday! Drink! Oh no, another week is over and I haven't accomplished X! Drink! And to paraphrase myself, the sadness of the world will relapse you if you let it. I thought more about that post I'd seen from Justin re: suicide. "You don't want to die, you just want the pain to stop." Addiction falls under that same umbrella. When whoever it was, maybe even an introspection, wanted me to figure out why I was so desperate for numbness. I don't want to be here, and failing that, if I can just numb enough, it'll be a stopgap. I'm obviously not as bad as I was, but if I had an out in front of me...
Since the day was flowing by I headed down to Tim's boat directly instead of getting my car smogged. He asked me to bring creamer and Splenda, so I packed a bag with veggies for the ducks, cheese for Pupple, and enough Splenda and creamer that I'll just keep a stash there. It was a little disjointed since Pupple walks sandwiched everything, and our conversation kept fading. It felt like we both had things to say but couldn't figure out the right way to bring them up. I remember we talked about the symbol for my religion, my worry that the heartfinity would be mawkish, and the knowledge that you can't convey absolutely everything in any symbol. I let perfect be the enemy of good often. I thought it was too late to feed the ducks but went along with it anyway. The ducks gathered on the beach in anticipation, I felt like Evita, and then all sorts of birds flew in to get in on the snack. Finches, seagulls, loons, etc. Next time I'll bring more. I loved feeding them, obv, but I felt all my pessimism circling. I didn't feed them enough, and if I did, they'd just outbreed any amount I gave them, and either way they're going to be fucked when I stop.
I probably shouldn't have, but I stopped at the store on the way back. Picked up Splenda, creamer, cat food for both LMF and my stray friends.... And wine. I called my mom when I got home to let her know of Houdini's passing, but she was at the store with Mike, so it was a brief conversation. I tried to watch the new season of Bonding but found the unrealistic plot devices too much, but I was at least reminded that the guy playing Doug is gorgeous.
Candace was obviously fine with it, we talked some about Houdini dying and the echoes of my rage over Mousey. She noted that Houdini died peacefully instead of filled with pain and terror, and that's obviously why I scream so loud and often over Mousey. The whole fucking reason I saved him was so he didn't die in pain and terror. F. F Minus. On the plus side, we also talked some about mistakes. Kind of apt (AAAPT!), really, since I was just talking about intent. As you know, my dad was the king of
I mentioned both my pull to relapse and the many friends of mine who've relapsed. In particular, and I remember going through this with cake, all these holidays got me jonesing. She noted there's always a reason to use. Yay, it's Friday! Drink! Oh no, another week is over and I haven't accomplished X! Drink! And to paraphrase myself, the sadness of the world will relapse you if you let it. I thought more about that post I'd seen from Justin re: suicide. "You don't want to die, you just want the pain to stop." Addiction falls under that same umbrella. When whoever it was, maybe even an introspection, wanted me to figure out why I was so desperate for numbness. I don't want to be here, and failing that, if I can just numb enough, it'll be a stopgap. I'm obviously not as bad as I was, but if I had an out in front of me...
Since the day was flowing by I headed down to Tim's boat directly instead of getting my car smogged. He asked me to bring creamer and Splenda, so I packed a bag with veggies for the ducks, cheese for Pupple, and enough Splenda and creamer that I'll just keep a stash there. It was a little disjointed since Pupple walks sandwiched everything, and our conversation kept fading. It felt like we both had things to say but couldn't figure out the right way to bring them up. I remember we talked about the symbol for my religion, my worry that the heartfinity would be mawkish, and the knowledge that you can't convey absolutely everything in any symbol. I let perfect be the enemy of good often. I thought it was too late to feed the ducks but went along with it anyway. The ducks gathered on the beach in anticipation, I felt like Evita, and then all sorts of birds flew in to get in on the snack. Finches, seagulls, loons, etc. Next time I'll bring more. I loved feeding them, obv, but I felt all my pessimism circling. I didn't feed them enough, and if I did, they'd just outbreed any amount I gave them, and either way they're going to be fucked when I stop.
I probably shouldn't have, but I stopped at the store on the way back. Picked up Splenda, creamer, cat food for both LMF and my stray friends.... And wine. I called my mom when I got home to let her know of Houdini's passing, but she was at the store with Mike, so it was a brief conversation. I tried to watch the new season of Bonding but found the unrealistic plot devices too much, but I was at least reminded that the guy playing Doug is gorgeous.