the sad sadness of being sad sometimes

 

😭

Bratty

 

my personal mapping project

 

I learned during my sociology degree that we 'brain map' our social constructs so that we can retain context on all our relationships, personal, social, work, school, etc.

Part of my #brainfail through my life was being unable to retain this ability to remember my own timeline, much less map how I fit in with everyone in a continuous stream of change over time.

I've been working on this for decades, and I think I'm finding a way to piece it together in a working map. In my mind I'm constructing this map in a 4D kind of way, perhaps 5D, since it covers changes over time. In my mind it kind of looks like a cosmic event map in 3D but with an added timeline so that the map model can change by rolling forward or backward in time.

I didn't know most of my life that I'm a fragmented person. They used to call it multiple personality, now it's dissociate disorders of varying degrees. As I've been waking up to my 'selves' and learning to share info among my fragments, as opposed to feeling locked out of my own long and short term memories and confused and disoriented, I've been very slowly piecing together the points of impact or breakage, as it were. It wasn't at all clear, especially since most of the fragments are independent enough to take and absorb life hits on their own, but over time I've been using a free association technique that allows me to 'randomly' tiptoe through my head, and learning to stop and let my 'head' talk back to me. That's more simplistic than it really is. Learning to recognize reality sifting down through simulated materials aka the way we process and retain our memories and then tell our stories back to ourselves has been a meticulous and very sketchy process taking several years, as evidenced throughout my blog fleet.

Part of the challenge has been more than one of us learning to do this and leave trails for each other, sort of like leaving notes or tag tabs for other people in a big project. Imagine working on a very large project over a very long time and never seeing the other people coming and going, and every time you come back to the project, things have changed and you either get a shift change log with not the greatest notes or nothing at all, and you try to pick up where they left off, which requires quite a lot of redundancy. That is what trying to piece together a bigger picture of a fragmented person is like.

For the most part, I'm very stable nowadays, rarely switching back and forth. And I can tell nowadays when I do because of the headaches. When I get sharp stabby headaches out of the blue that dissipate just as quickly, sometimes with a sick dizzy feeling that also comes and goes just as rapidly, I am dealing 'on the fly'. For years I would fret that those feelings meant something horrible in my body, like illness or stroke or whatever, but now I know it's simply a high stress moment being taken over by another part of me that can better handle a situation. Sometimes I'm cognitive of sharing space and sometimes I'm not. Most times I retain most of those memories, but they can get a little blurry. It's like I'm there but sitting on the sideline taking a break.

"I" is not always the same person. I figured out awhile back that we take turns writing in blogs, sometimes paragraph to paragraph and even sentence to sentence. Even when I had no clue this was going on, we were all chipping in together. Writing seems to be the way I talk to myself, or share my head with me. Many times I've gone back through blogs and read things I don't remember writing, or sections that seem surprisingly 'other person' chiming in. Any of you who've read through a lot of the old stuff probably saw sudden continuity breaks and just thought that was poor writing, lol. Well, I'm not a poor writer. We just don't all agree on when to stop talking, apparently.

So this summer I have figured out more of the free associating feedback, and it feels like the others are becoming a little more open to being stalked 😂, so we all seem to be building a common map together that helps show us where we all fit with each other.

In my mind, I was explaining to a fictional figure in an ongoing alt life reality (some might call it a dreamscape or storyboard) that a few key mes were like epicenters during fragment events, and they became their own color families. I think that explains the pinkybluejacky thing, and why Jacky is stuck on which color of blue is the best, azure, cyan, royal, or sky. Lately we've noticed that soft mint and rustic orange together seem to strongly evoke memory fragments, as well, so however an event cracked that current local landscape at the time, they evidently got color mapped. I realized a couple of decades ago I am synesthete and seem to map many things in my life around hex charts, including blogs, and that each color family strongly attracts or repels other parts of me. We seem to be socially grouped. The blue/pink treaty involving Jacky and Pinky happened a long time before I became cognitively aware of the significance, and now I recognize it as a shaky alliance between the two strongest personalities who fought for control most of my life and finally settled into sharing enough space to stabilize. This settling happened with my second marriage to a very patient and forgiving man who doesn't make a big deal out of my weirdness (this is where men emotionally ignoring women can come in really handy), and now nearly 3 decades into this marriage, I'm finally getting a bigger picture mapped out.

The actual traumas are incidental and fantastically boring to me by now, plus they've been written out all over my blogs, so I'm not going to reiterate anything. I do recognize that Janika is an epicenter that happened in the '80s, and that was so rough that I lost being able to map a continuous timeline for 11 years. I think all the really significant big stuff happened long before that last one, most of them during my childhood at various points over various very overwhelming events, but the key is realizing that two of the stronger personalities umbrella'd over and took control of successive fragment events. Jacky seems to be a parent figure for a few 'kids', and Pinky is the mom as recognized by other 'kids'. Claudia and Lydia respond and defer to Pinky making decisions and handling things, and since Pinky was universally recognized in my head as the interface with real world for several years, it was probably natural to become cognizant of those fragments sooner than others. Janika seems to be very rogue and is responsible for some of the 11 year messcapades, along with Yablo. From what I can tell, Yablo is a latent mostly nonverbal 'Loki' figure nearly completely disconnected from anything tangibly emotional to the rest, and probably saved our lives a few times during Janika's plunges into various miscreant behaviors. Not sure, but I think Yablo is the one who wakes up during surgeries and drove home during the heavy drinking. Yablo shares space easily enough, but without the emotional connections, the contexts are always sketchy. Yablo was around for a very long time before getting named by one of my sisters. Janika was named by my child when she was 4 years old.

Jacky and Pinky go way back to very early childhood with their own continuous timelines of memories. Janika doesn't have memories before the 80s, making me think that epicenter was from my friend being murdered and then the immediate dissociation for years. Personally, I think Yablo was already around and probably helped stabilize Janika from going over addiction cliffs, but just barely, certainly wasn't out of worry or caring, more like having a friend to pal around with. When I look into those two I can kind of see the switching off. Janika never passed out, ever. It was like Yablo could bypass all that and take over and drive. Those two easily shared space and have common memory trails, so as I've been learning to free associate back into my past, I've been able to pick up on that buddy system between a couple of ne'er-do-wells. At the root of that, Yablo is responsive to Jacky. Pinky and Yablo don't ever seem to cross streams, which may be the bigger cause for memory holes in Pinky than anything. Pinky is emotional, Yablo is simply unattached emotionally, so it's like they are mutually exclusive. Yablo also doesn't fight for dominance or control. Jacky, on the other hand, is very dominating and fought with Pinky for years over control, even though Jacky is flat effect. Jacky may be "the cat that walks by himself" (Kipling), but Jacky does care deeply that things not go off the rails and considers Pinky to be weak when situations get stressful. The only thing Pinky remains strongest over Jacky with is being the mom. Jacky isn't really mom material and probably lets things slide more than they should. Since my first husband and that whole mess came hot on the heels of my friend's murder, whoever was occupying and controlling head space at the time was clearly not being supported by Jacky until the epic control fight that saved my child from that marriage. I'm still not able to access that very well, even though memories come through clearly enough to know what was going on, so I can't help wondering if the 'kids' were muddling through that on their own with a dash of Pinky here and there. I just know my head was such a mess that I couldn't logically think through anything. That was before Janika started drinking, so it wasn't alcohol. It was more like still being in shock, nothing felt that real to me except having a baby. That was real. And the fear was very real once we realized we were very much in danger and that my kid was being so abused.

I can see how and why some people can't see reality around them when they are in bad situations. If they are already fragmented from abuses, the parts of them that recognize it just shut down out of some kind of weird psychological protection. It's hard to wake that up and then do something real about it, especially when danger gets overwhelming.

Anyway, my map looks like an undercurrent of babyhood that one of me calls Sasha for lack of better information, followed closely by a couple of epicenters that cracked Pinky and Jacky (and possibly others) into existence, and then a short few years later Lydia and possibly another, and then another few short years came Claudia. The ages look a bit like baby/toddler, 3 years old, 7 years old, and 10-11 years old. I'm only guessing, they just feel like that. Lydia is the one who started having the witch nightmares, calls them witch-cats, and she never talks out loud when she pops out, but she sees everything. Claudia is the crabby fighter personality who remembers how to kill things, rambunctious and argumentative. Not sure who the 'kid with the bike' is yet.

I have clear memories that go back to babyhood. The memories that we all share before fragmentation events are the strongest. I've been learning to go back in time to before those events occurred, finding the shared memories, and then sorting out the fractures as I slowly move forward. At each fracture event a new part of map emerges, and events with strong epicenters seem to reorganize the continuities into new behavior group patterns. Figuring out how each of my fragments relates to all the others has been a real puzzle, because over time they change, just like relationships do with real people around us.

One thing I've been learning is that just because a personality seems to be latent for a long time doesn't mean they are inactive. They are literally part of a real time brain, a whole, and it doesn't just shut off like a light switch. Even latent personalities can hear, see, filter, and incorporate information into themselves even if they are not sharing cognizant space with other fragments. They may be a little lost in time and confused in place when they do present, but they aren't stopped and started again like a dvd player. Each fragment is part of a real person, and it's rough feeling left out of the loop and suddenly having to deal in spite of a big gap of continuity missing, but that personality being out and active might be a crucial development in dealing with something. Whether we are cognizant of each other or not, each fragment is important to the overall stabilization of the whole person.

Part of mapping some of the fragments into relationships has depended heavily on our willingness to share feelings without self recrimination and even self harm. Jacky and Pinky intensely disliked each other for many years, to the point of sabotaging each other. If you have a disorder wherein you are self sabotaging, you might want to look into a duality playing out that is seeking common ground. You may not be fragmented as such, but you may need some kind of reconciliation therapy. It's ok to forgive yourself. That was a very important part of my own processing. Parts of me are OCD level perfectionists, other parts of me are life fail depressionists. That battle between two conflicting personalities only made things worse. Learning to share space with agreements not to inflict insulting judgements and guilts on each other was a huge step, and reaching a place of understanding that the root of that bitter fight all along was Jacky loves Pinky so much that Jacky would force Pinky into submission out of harm's way so Pinky wouldn't cry was utterly heartbreaking. That was a real thing, and reaching that place broke down a lot of barriers.

we are the cicadas

This is my response to a surge in world readers on my big pinky blog.

See, when [they] set all of us up into identity camps to divide us, they created leaders for the sheep to follow. You know, like how Gaga and Kathy talked about their gays. The flocks follow the rousting call to flock. This is the same for all identity camps, like political, race, religion, academic, you name it, there is an identity camp for it.

But what they didn't plan for were the autists. We are the wild card.

For years I was very minor on the world stage. My thoughts, ideas, questions, conclusions- yeah, they got around, but it was more from the point of view of autist eccentricity (and honesty) than anything, and the people who found me were like me, feeling similarly and haunting the webs in the dark looking for anyone else like them.

We are everywhere now. We have been emerging on the internet all over the world like cicadas, saying exactly what we think and how we feel and asking the hard questions about why is the world like it is AND FINDING THE ANSWERS.

We are the anomalies, the brains people think are broken, the observers who get it, who get the illusion and the scam going on all around us because we can see the world trapped in a glass darkly, and we walk in the light touching others to wake them up.

We are the digital army.

We came back for this.

Back for you.

Rise with us and stand up to the technocratic new world order that seeks to force us into transhumanism and population control and social engineering. We can still be who we want to be without them telling us how to be that. They are not the boss of us. We can be all these things and still be kind and loving and forgiving people. We can make their hate mongering and fear porn and learned helplessness stop flooding our screens, and we can change our world just by stepping past them, their rhetoric, their world narrative, their agendas for us.

We can be Ourselves.

Metaphorically and physically, some of us are fighting very real battles for our lives and our souls, and for each other's lives and souls. [They] see us as the enemy because we disrupt their grand plans for the entire world to go into one last permanent lockdown with no more freedom to do anything without their permission, and their goal to weed out all who won't obey what they dictate to us to do and believe.

Metaphorically, I have always thrived on the challenge. I was born to be awake.

roomwithaviewofhell

 

Just copying this here from a blog that I stopped linking way back around January 2019, I think. No particular reason for posting this particular thing on this particular blog. Just forgot I even had this. 😂

Hold on, found another one, gotta pull it over here. 😂 It's classic bluejacky and hasn't been public for years. I may just try copying the html, hang on.

When I came back out public, no one knew at first I'd been underground for a long time, and now that some people know about that because I've said it, some still don't seem to pick up on why I went underground, so I'll say it plainly- I was hammered by quite a number of people on nearly a daily basis for several years.

Why am I saying this?

Once in awhile I pick up a friend who doesn't understand boundaries. That person might not have a clue how demanding they might be, and how draining they might become dragging me into emotional quandaries that have nothing to do with me. That person might especially not get how difficult it gets to continue to be sweet when I'm juggling private stuff with family and responding to other stuff going on behind the scenes or underground about code fixing and touch bases with other webmasters. Even if that person has been friends with me for several years and there never was a problem before, sometimes things suddenly get super personal because they've somehow elevated themselves to bestie or even family status in their heads. I take the blame for that because super aspie is pretty blind to all the signs and assumes friends will heed all the warnings I post, forgetting that a friend here or there might not think it applies to them, plus I write so much it's just dang hard to catch it all, I'm sure.

I can't tell you how many times I've been through this. The next thing that happens is jealousy, backstabbing other people to me in private, backstabbing me to other people behind my back, and eventually some very hurt feelings as I keep trying to cautiously extricate myself from the growing amount of time I'm seeing one person out of hundreds is spending constantly making sure I'm the one they see nearly every single day.

I have no problem owning who I am. I have a legitimate diagnosis, I see a psychologist, and I am very open about it. I also have no problem with people talking about me. I've already been through the very public worldwide hamburger mill as a fansite owner, besides some very sad emotional abuse by several people both in real life and online who told me they were my friends, and I know this problem is actually about ME because I'm so bad for picking up strays in the first place. People say I'm nice, even when I keep trying to tell them I'm not. I repeatedly say I'm not a nice person.

When I first got back on twitter, I was NOT looking for friends. I cannot stress this enough. I'm not the sort of person who needs daily convo. I also cannot stress THAT enough. My feelings are NOT hurt when people talk smack about me, and I was born without a single empathetic bone in my body. I say all these things very clearly.

I learned to be kind. On purpose. Because it's logical.

What's not kind is someone bothering me until I can't take it any more, beyond weeks and months of asking point blank not to be contacted. What's not kind is someone trying to get me to take sides against another friend. What's not kind is someone hogging and puposely diverting attention away from something I write that is very important to me. And what's still not kind is that person passive-aggressively and very publicly using memes to keep flicking their wounded feelings at me after I finally put my foot down, which looks like prompt bait to get other people to ask what happened.

Definition of a friend is NOT grinding my day to a halt every time someone yanks my chain. Definition of a friend is NOT playing along with the head games when someone else chooses to be negative and whine. Definition of a friend is NOT being a two-face who says one thing in private and another in public. Definition of a friend is NOT someone who feels sorry for themselves as a gimmick to get attention.

A real friend is honest. I was honest. A real friend draws clear boundaries and marks where not to cross to start problems. I was very clear, over and over. A real friend doesn't walk away. I haven't walked away. I'm still here, lurking. Why? Because I actually care when I call someone a friend. Just because I'm not hitting a like or fav button, just because I'm not tagging, just because I'm not talking doesn't mean I'm not a friend and that I've abandoned anyone.

What is a lurker? A lurker is someone who quietly watches, doesn't wave flags to get attention, doesn't troll around starting problems between people. A lurker enjoys lurking, likes lurking for sport, does their best not to get caught lurking. The whole definition of lurking is lost on some people. You can't jump up and down waving where everyone can see and call yourself a lurker. You can't draw attention to another person and call yourself a lurker. Calling attention to stuff is the opposite of lurking.

A whole bunch of misunderstandings develop when someone making a habit of talking to me for the sake of talking thinks I'm a new playground to splash around in, a new toy to experiment with, something to poke and see how I'll react, and then when I do they run away wahwahwah to someone else saying I reacted and it wasn't fair and I'm mean and then passive-aggressively throwing hints out to the world that a big baddie hurt their feelings. This looks a little ridiculous after I've very publicly shared that I have a social deficit.

I *am* a big baddie. If you are playing these head games with me, you. have. no. clue. who. I. am. You have no clue how kind I've been allowing the head games to go on. You have no clue how many other people all over the world who know me are holding their breaths waiting to see how long it'll be before I make you bleed.

Let me be clear.

Everyone who sees me sees you interacting with me, because I've been around a long time in multiple fandoms and I'm watched by a lot of people all over the world. Everyone who sees me stomp you continues to watch you to see why I didn't kill or maim you, because in fandoms, that is a sport. Many of the watchers still lurking and not stepping in are the sort of people who pop popcorn and make bets on who's gonna crawl off and die. I know I have an audience, that is why I don't play the head games. Sometimes other people try to get a little attention for themselves hanging around with me, but sometimes they're just really thick and don't get how visible they are because lurkers don't pop up and high five them.

A friend would never post this after meeting someone who has openly confessed to struggling with this in real life and with a psychologist. A friend who would post this would be being meaner than I was, whinier than I've ever been, more judgmental, less forgiving, and strangely enough, way more egocentric. More sadly, that person would be lumping a genuine psychological challenge into a generic trash can, along with the friend they're whining about ~*~and never see the irony in this~*~.

I've said before that I'm not brave as much as I am brazenly stupid, because I'm easily led and I keep falling for people who say they're my friends, and I don't let the fallout stop me from being myself. You know why some people go underground and don't come back out? Because their 'friends' mock them in public and stab them in the back in private. I've seen this happen so many times that I can't believe in 'faith in humanity restored' at all. All I can do is say I don't know if I'm being brave or stupid.

It is a HUGE frickin' deal that someone like me is trying so hard, and especially that I'm sharing so much of my real life and so much private stuff. Every time I hit 'publish', I am taking the risk that someone on this earth will use my personal stuff against me, to hurt me. But since I've been picked on and even abused my entire life because I'm autism spectrum, and since I've actually been nicknamed a robot on twitter (which I like), and because I've taken all the crap and all the crap and all the crap since I was a small child, it's time I turn it around and just say it- If you want to be my friend, figure me out. All my REAL friends go through the mill with me. They don't walk away and start throwing rocks. I don't even understand that at all. Maybe I don't know what being a friend is supposed to be, but I sure don't act like that.

I do know that real friendship isn't about demanding my time and my attention and then whining if I get angry because I've had enough of the overwhelming demands diverting attention away from my very real SAD STUFF and SURVIVAL to butting in and making very off the wall remarks and jokes instead of actually validating what I've just said. You know how I know? I've been through it so many times. This isn't new to me. This is so familiar that it barely phases me any more.

People kill themselves over this kind of stupidity. I've been writing about depression and suicide since 2008, and the person I allow to come the closest is sometimes the person who will literally test every fiber of my being, and those are usually the people who don't understand when I can't take any more. This is why I say I suck as a friend.

I'm going to say this as simply as possible. Narcissism is what saved me from committing suicide, from drinking myself to death, from staying in toxic relationships with real guns and rape, from becoming an interstate drug runner, from abandoning my child, from so many other things. Every time I noticed I was epic failing, it wasn't good sense that saved me but being too proud to go down into those gutters. I really was there, too, all those places. I didn't like those places, so I changed things. It takes lots of guts to change your life (especially more than once) when you're stuck in between rocks and hard places, and the reason most people don't is because they don't believe they'll succeed.

I SURVIVED. If that's not good enough for someone who calls me their friend, then that person can stop following me around and whining about the way I survive another friend doing me dirty. You don't see me whining on my timeline. My personal blog is a different story, nobody has to go there and keep up with all that. I don't write on Pinky to get validation, I write to FOCUS.

I am public again because I'm a world rep for a fandom and I believe what I'm doing is important. What I'm doing is being a genuine person getting through real life problems and living out loud for other people who need to see someone making it out of the dark. If it takes narcissism to reach this level of cool, I'm good with it, because it sure beats hell outa wasting my life feeling sorry for myself and probably being dead by now.

People who don't get #TeamSpooge will never get ME. It's not about playing the convo games, it's about actually being real people sharing who we really are, not bugging and poking and playing blame games.

When my friend figures out what public passive-aggressive behavior does to genuine lurkers who want a friend but stay in the dark because of people behaving that way, when the self-inflicted passive-aggressive tweeting actually stops, then maybe the self defense barriers will come down. There is such a thing as friending people to exasperation, but I'm not going to look for a cute little chart to make a point and put it on my public timeline.

Aspie spoonie Lexx fan on a mission- and how embracing my narcissism is changing my life. Let's revisit that chart.

= Everything is my fault. I own my stuff. Narcissism actually makes this easier.

= I'm there for everybody who asks for genuine help. You guys never see how many times I've dropped everything I'm doing for a suicide run or to sit in hospitals and doctors' offices with people. Narcissism doesn't cancel out doing what one believes is right.

= I refuse to be the victim. I'm a survivor, thanks to narcissism. I want to WIN over all the stupidities that have haunted my life, and nothing's going to stop me.

= I see everything about you, your need, your love, your pain, your loneliness, and your accomplishments. I'm a lurker deluxe. Narcissism drives me to check on those who are 'mine'.

= Everything will always be about me. I feel this is a wise business decision, but you guys know I love you. Besides, the more I stand up for my stuff, the more I stand up for the lurkers who wish someone would stand up for them, too, in a world full of haters, blamers, and backstabbers. Narcissism doesn't mean I'm not afraid, but it does mean I won't hesitate to stand up in full view and take arrows and bullets for people I love, because I believe I'll make the better target.

= "My way or the highway." Yep, my blog, my timeline, my personal time, my life... "They never give an inch but demand a mile." Imagine if I didn't expect so much of myself. Narcissism is a demanding mistress.

= I admit I'm wrong all the time. I've been professionally trained to apologize, and I've won customer service awards for it. However, I'm not an enabler. Big difference. Drama addiction on social media is a genuine problem and needs to be addressed as such. Narcissism isn't always about drawing attention to oneself for the sake of attention. I have a bigger agenda than that.

= Frequent silent treatments yada yada yada. See drama addiction again. Narcissism actually compels me to establish my territory. What you might see as the silent treatment, I see as me saving your social media life with the Pond of Death. How many times have I said if I'm not talking to you, it's because I'm not eating your head.

= "When you finally leave..."- omg, I can't shake people off for weeks, months... I've literally disappeared off the internet to escape people contacting me. "...they spread lies and rumors about you." Well, actually, I'm being narcissistic and talking about myself.

What really cracks me up about this whole thing is this person has no clue I've actually blocked, with extreme prejudice, my own cousins on facebook. If this friend were my real family behaving like this on social media, I'd have already set fire to the internet.

Anyway, yeah, I'm sorry it's 'over', but I'm not the one counting it as losing a friend. I'm not the one still throwing rocks days later. I get the hint, though. Throwing rocks is what people do to dogs they want to go away. Fine.

Meanwhile, several thousand other people are actually keeping up with my stuff, and I really don't have time for this crap. I think this Pond was just a byproduct of me getting through the remnants of all that death stuff that I'm still kind of dealing with, and now it's holidays, and while I never expected a gut punch, I knew I had it eventually coming for attempting to be tolerant of a soul sucker. Tis the season for emotional vampires to refuse to admit they have depression problems like the rest of us.

Ah, memories, that was fun. There are a few more posts left sitting around over there that I didn't pull into private if you're bored. Staircase of Satan, Pond of Death (roomwithaviewofhell.blogspot.com)

test post, ignore this

I'm trying to do something and the only way I can see what I'm doing is through two browsers, so ignore this while I play.

Here, enjoy a cookie.

looking glass technology, they say

Almost that time of year again. I got that in 2012 on a camera that had been dropped a few times. I drop my phone all the time now and the pix look fantastic no matter what happens.

You guys need to see this.