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.

virtual minecraft in your house

I had the coolest dream last night.

People in real life could buy minecraft packages that were like pokemon go, like the mobs would show up in small dog size around the house and you could collect them and set up areas around your home with virtual decor that you could construct yourself with this app. It was all the new rage, and everyone was getting it for their kids. (Think Mo Creatures mod.)

In the dream I was a techmod just like I am on server, only instead of policing chat and helping with player issues, I could teleport to app packages that people set up in their homes and help fix the glitches. I helped them figure out how to set up 'claim' areas like in kids' bedrooms to keep the app a little more contained, and I could help them expand claims to other parts of their houses and stuff.

Imagine everything about minecraft build into an app that you could play with virtually in real life. Imagine anchoring  your purchases to 2D and 3D 'claims' that kept out hackers, like when they visit your house they wouldn't be able to make your virtual pets go off claim and stuff.

In the dream I went to at least 4 different virtual claim areas fixing problems, and it was so perfectly meshed between real life and virtual that it was a pleasure doing the work.

I'd love to go into a description, but I'm afraid it would turn into a book because it was so detailed. Just imagine your house literally having virtual pets running around.

WHO IS Q

So the Washington Post is reminding us there is a cicada eruption coming soon. The snip clicks to source.

To which I replied. This snip will click directly to the site I linked.

Other anons were answering, as well. Here is an example that will click to tweet.

After that I started a new thread. It clicks out.

I shared the cicada site link again and then shared these screenshots, this info can be found on the cicada site, which has loads of info.

Then I added more.

Brood IX is the one coming out in 2020.

Here is the whole image.

It is pertinent to note at this time I had already researched this cicada hatch because Q says nothing is a coincidence.
Q and Cicada, perhaps  May 1, 2020

In that post I wrote this, the screenshot will click to wikipedia.

"For instance, 2 or 3 years ago I was deep digging and wondered if Q either sprang directly from or hijacked the Cicada game." Note this link is different from the wiki link to the screenshot below.

This next comes from another site, click the screenshot to go there.

Then I wrote

"People forget things so quickly, even when they are very smart. As soon as Q established being 17, I instantly thought Cicada.

I don't have the kind of brain that decrypts riddles, but I do see more easily than some others how patterns emerge. I'm very good with patterns.

It's nearly cicada season. Q says it's going to be a hot summer. I live in the heart of midwest cicada country, so I'm very familiar with them. Maybe we should be taking this literally to get some deep dig info."

Again, screenshot takes you to the site.

"See that? Brood IX will hatch this year in states where big bases and alphabet buildings are located."

"17 is a very important number with Q and our current POTUS. One anon was noticing how many family members and past associates had been born on the 17th of their birth months. Things like that.

Maybe we need to learn where these cicada broods are typically located. Looks to me like some agencies will be getting swarmed."

And from there I continue the discussion about how this relates to the black cube, which permeates cultures and corporate logos all over the world. Here is that post again in case you want to check it out. https://pinkfeldspar.blogspot.com/2020/05/q-and-cicada-perhaps.html

After that discussion I continued.

"This is the year that the cabal goes down, per this POTUS administration.

This is the year cicadas swarm the black cube, per symbolism.

Just like in Hunger Games.

They stormed the Capitol.

You can leap to every imagery and pun and take that where you please. I honestly don't know if there is a connection between Q and Cicada, but Q says there are no coincidences.

In the event Brood IX means anything..."

This clicks to a map that you can zoom in on and see the areas better. Check out the towns and stuff. Maybe look up what is in the area on other maps...

Ok, that was the blog post.

Now let's get back to twitter. Very shortly after I started my new thread about the Washington Post announcing cicadas, another user started a new thread with my own thread starter. The snip is too large to get the timestamp, but this clicks over so you can see it if you want.

I was very surprised. Anyone who follows me on blogs knows that I don't handle interaction very well even when it's 100% positive because I'm a super reclusive aspienado, and that is why there are very rarely comments on my blogs, even with comments open. I'm a lurker supporter, I don't require anyone's acknowledgement or validation, and I just keep blogging anyway, so I had to wrap my head around this.

I took a deep breath and responded.

This is the screenshot in the pic. I got it from an image search, and it links back to a tweet. Click the image to see the tweet.

And here is that tweet with a timestamp, in case it ever disappears.

And then I added this tweet.

And that is pertinent because it's this screenshot, which clicks to the site.

There was no response to that, so I let it go and went to bed.

This morning I decided to own asking the question.

And now I'm going to make a suggestion.

It's time. We need to start asking POTUS who Q is. We need to trend the question as hard as we trended other things lately. We need to make the world see we are asking the question so they will join in and ask the question so that millions and millions of use are asking

WHO IS Q?

come with me now

Aaaaand I have abruptly leapt to another blog, so perhaps this whole rough year is over now and I can move forward. It was just a really really hard year. Glad I'm past all that now.

the organ maintaining hull integrity so I stay healthy

One of my physical therapists let me know I have really young skin for my age and had a hard time believing I went through a body-wrecking self destructive heavy alcohol and more stage, to the point of kicking off a nasty autoimmune flare that lasted a few years.

I absolutely do not take my health for granted. I certainly haven't earned the good fortune of not looking my age.

The divergent nature of living for decades in loads of pain and stress and looking younger than my age the entire time only means I don't have the audacity to be vain. I do try to keep up being clean and pleasant to behold, but I honesty fail spectacularly in any fashion sense.

Inside my head none of any of that exists. I know the truths I live with.

"So you'd rather die than give up the man who tried to kill you?"
Sadly, yes, but love had nothing to do with it. I've often wondered how many other children he went on to rape over the years after I hid ours away from him.

"You were the one time that I let love weaken me, and I want you around as a constant reminder to never make that mistake again."
Very literally played that out myself, just didn't announce it. Sometimes I wonder if my psychologist ever figured that out. Just because one answer comes out of my mouth doesnt mean all the rest of me feel that way.

I could look like a Shar Pei and it wouldn't change my life inside my head.

I can't even begin to describe how boring my life is now compared to before. It saves my wretched soul from rotting in prison or in the ground.

I never look in the mirror.

Oopsie

Nevermind, there's no way I'm going to power through, so back to 1-1-1 while the taper stalls. The suckage in my arm is pretty real again.

My house smells like the salmon I cooked last night. Windows open, beautiful day.

Remember I had chopped my hair into an accidental John Wick? It's long enough to hold a French braid now, thank goodness. I'm just not cute with jaw length hair.

Dang it, accidentally pre-published. Oh, well. Gonna keep going.

Went completely off track at the psychologist. I really need to get back to listing topics of things I want to work on. It occurred to me driving away that 13 years ago my original intent was to be able to talk to people better, and that the last time we met I announced I don't want to talk to anyone any more at all. And he's the only person I talk to about stuff that really concerns me.

I have a family. I do have a few friends on this earth. I still feel empty inside. And I'm not sure I care that much any more about that.

If this is all in my head, if my life really is made for lurker games and shadows behind the scenes, if there really are strangers that reach out and check on me when people I love walk on by, then maybe, just maybe, this whole covert war thing validates the dream I had as a very young child (possibly 3 or 4) that I was a man with an important secret job and I was killed by an explosion, and I came back to finish what I was doing then.

I've joked around about people nearly and sometimes actually dying around me any time I really do get to work, and the first thing I thought per that pinky blog post I made today was possibly I got nudged about a threat to the ONE person I really talk to. If that's the case, do I withdraw, like I did from everyone else? Or do I weigh the current situation and continue?

I will never really have what I want in this life. I've accepted that. Friends came and went. Loved ones are far away or on very different mind planets. Sometimes I want to dwell.  Sometimes I can't feel anything else. So I live in my head.

Aspienado is rattling the bars.

possibly

Possibly another taper migraine like 2 weeks ago, auras in both eyes, but at least blood pressure is very reasonable this time. I'm down to only two gabapentin 100 a day now, skipping midday dose this week. Start twice a week physical therapy tomorrow. Hoping the pain level will keep going down as I finish the taper.

I haven't had any blog surprises show up since dad died. Just realized that. Interesting. Whoever was popping in has gone quiet again.

Yeah, I know, right? I just did that quiet ones post yesterday. Maybe I'm getting nudged.

Yeah, the game is surreal. Like one of me is psychotic or something and delights in baiting me.

Pretty sure that one goes back to the early days. Possibly the mean one. A very old dream just popped up with the dripping water sound in the dark, so who knows. The one inside a very dark cave with a big pool around a damp middle wall, and I'm barefoot so I can feel my way in the dark along a rough skinny ledge, and I'm trying to very quietly stay ahead of a dark figure also following the wall. One of those horrible dreams that never stops, locked in time, always there somewhere in my head. I'm always a young child in that dream, unable to call out for help, no possibility of safety.

The place I went when I reached out for the wall before I expired, perhaps. Not sure.

Probably NSFW.

Very quiet

The quiet one always gets overlooked.

shall we get to work

I was driving home with a playlist going that I've honestly not listened through since I made it because it got so long. So I was only half listening, not watching at all, and stuff starting clicking.

I've spent the last several years dealing with repressed memories and eventually realizing my oddball disorientation spells might be dissociative. The last 5 months in particular have been like finally nearing the completion of a huge complicated jigsaw puzzle.

I've been leaving myself messages for years, sometimes best laid out through free association games I started playing many years ago. I do what I think are random trails through youtube or search engines and come back weeks, months, or even years later and see patterns. Some of the patterns are more subtle and I have no clue I created them until I review later. Oddly, reviews are usually done on spur of the moment, like little timers go off in my head and I'm suddenly in the mood to follow one of my trails.

Keeping in mind that I once consciously possessed an eidetic memory (until illness initiated a sort of brain collapse in 2004) and have out of the blue known details without explanation (like my brain hides things from me), I've over time accepted that I simply no longer have conscious access at will and that I have figured out ways to communicate to myself across unknown barriers.

My biggest conundrums have been that 1981-1990 are a very mixed up broken blur, and that I seem to take myself hostage back and forth since I was a kid. 'We' sometimes fight each other for control, and I'm lately working through the idea that maybe we can cooperate more if we call a truce.

To make it easier to process both subjectively and objectively, I have been using blog names as personality compartments. I had no idea I was even doing this, at first it was just me using a sorting system to filter down some chaos in my head. I'm autist and misunderstandings galore are my lifestyle, so I guess I built a sorting system so I wouldn't feel like I was drowning in confusion.

One of the first strong blog personalities to step out was bluejacky, or just Jacky, what I've also dubbed the aspienado spawn event. The second that stepped up was pinkfeldspar, or Pinky. There must be some kind of middle ground because my pinterest address is pinkybluejacky.

Years later, I'm discovering these weren't accidents. These have been dominant personalities that I've been dealing with constantly all my life, and they repel each other like the wrong ends of magnets. During the last 5 months, the war for control (Pinky had been in control for years) crescendoed throughout my dad dying, and culminated in Jacky sliding back in after Pinky realized a truce needed to happen.

That was actually a huge relief. Jacky doesn't feel emotions, and going 'flat' again after so many years allowed a smooth transition into self care after years of physical and emotional sacrifice Pinky used to commandeer a tough situation.

To be frank, Jacky isn't the best person handling kids, and Pinky knew it. Once the situation changed, Pinky went on braincation.

We are both cognizant, both control a couple other wild cards that are very bad to turn loose, one being suicidal (prime?), the other an addict without a moral compass (Janika). We're not sure who the really mean one is, but Pinky says Claudia, and we drop that hot potato really fast without dwelling. So "I" am currently Jacky (don't really call me Jacky, that's dumb), and Pinky hears this. To be clear, I don't talk to Pinky, she's bossy and takes over. It's kinda hard explaining. This is the furthest I've gotten being able to word it out.

Back to the playlist today. Let's see what I might be wanting to say to myself. It's been crossing our mind that there might be a completely separate split problem, hence the secrets. I have no idea how to even approach this. Pinky suggested simply asking questions and seeing if we get answers. This goes back to the night I found out my friend was murdered, and then burning the box of letters the next day. These videos are so much like the inside of my head arguing over that hijack of control.

Ok, that first one was like how the me that hijacked that night hated the me it took over. That hate was so deep and harsh that I was unable to kick back out past it and feel anything again until I had a little girl and realized I would literally lose her to the state unless I took control back and did something about it.

After that, we duked it out, stealing control back and forth for several years until my life was so messed up that nothing got better until I met Scott.

Clearly, to me, I hit dead ends trying to figure out what exactly the fuck happened inside myself to spiral out of control so badly, starting with that night.

Ok, next vid.

That very first sentence is me in my childhood. Seriously. I had decided never to love anyone, because everything about love as a concept was so painful, I just had to shut it off. Except my best friend. I never consciously thought that, but evidently I worshipped the ground she walked on or something.

Jacky and Pinky were borne of rubble, a survival mechanism, perhaps. Jacky and Pinky both stepped forward in 2007 after my heart broke again. I think they had been there all along and I finally accepted them as personalities. The only problem was I couldn't put them on the same blog... They were like opposites, one emotionally bereft and one a weepy, angry, severely depressed mess.

So now, truce. Jacky and Pinky are learning to 'talk'. Like I said, Pinky is very bossy. She sucks as a friend, as she puts it. And Failure Is Not An Option. "We would be strong together. No one can stop us."

Truce. No more sabotaging each other.

Next vid.

Load and clear. "You cannot have one without the other." "There was no me without him." Accepting each other. Accepting all my broken pieces. Pinky was lost without Jacky.

Pinky put the playlist together on the run during high stress, terrified another hijacking would happen with disastrous consequences. Jacky agreed this time not to take over and block Pinky out. Once the agreement happened, the switch was almost instantaneous. Pinky can share feeling the relief and is mostly 'asleep' now. Jacky is back on the original health plan goals from years ago and being amazing.

No more sabotaging each other.

Next vid. This is a clip of the show, not a fanvid. This is what it's like in my head blogging double meanings to myself without realizing it. This is how Pinky finally got through to Jacky through years of blogging.

And now we're wondering what part is still hiding the secrets. Because Jacky doesn't have an answer to why that box got burned.

There is a dangerously apathetic component inside me that we're not sure will even talk to us without doing something very, very stupid. That piece of me is utterly black being anti-love.

This is where we agree to just drop it and let it go. For now. Not gonna lie, it got real creepy when I realized during this next one that as I kept drifting in deeper, disengaged while I was driving, that an eavesdropper was thinking about wrecking the car. I mean, I wasn't even feeling depressed, Jacky mode is about as flat as it gets, and I had to pull back out hard and fast shutting that one down. It's like a super surreal mode that pops up once in awhile in the car and thinks about spontaneously taking the car off the road without any thought to damage or injury, no feels at all, and I nearly feel sick at the thought I might not be able to stay in control of my arms. There's like a dead space inside of me that really creeps me out.

I have no idea what that's about, maybe connected to the wreck I had years ago, but it's the same with knives, so whatever that is, Pinky and Jacky both clamp down on it.

And then this next came on and everything was fine. Good Jacky music.

~~~~~~~~

I've never written all of that in one place together before.

Every single day there are thoughts of death, sometimes bizarre suicidal kinds of thoughts, sometimes other kinds of bloody thoughts like dismembering, although I never think of hurting people I know, or about how fun that might be. I'm not into gore for gore's sake. I'm not into that kind of entertainment.

I feel like personality switching keeps the deeper darker lurker at bay.

I'm not afraid of monsters, but of what I will do to them.

Which would make me a monster.

~~~~~~~~

That was hard to write and took hours. I've been thinking for a couple of weeks how to even describe it. Vids help me since I lack emotional intuition, and oftentimes it takes quite awhile (months) for concepts and ideas to percolate back out into description.

If I weren't so inwardly focused, I'm certain I'd be quite the troublemaker.

I fixed Scott's computer through all this as well, so I'm the hero tonight.

I wonder what else I legit don't know

One of those catching up lots of little chores days. The rest of Dad's life insurance came in. My bank has been uber aggressive on fraud last few months, so I managed to get myself flagged trying to cash that. Then once that was settled, got flagged again for trying to make some payments. Hopefully that is settled now, but I need to go get a few groceries now. Really hope that doesn't flag again...

We have been living check to check for so many years that my bank doesn't know what to do with me actually having a balance to manage.

Anyway, it was a nice amount, and I am very content. All that stress over my dad all those months seems to be over, and getting something back afterward puts final closure on for me. I don't care any more about how hard it all was. Big crazy mixup, this life, for all of us.

~~~~~~~

First day skipping coffee on purpose. I've been sticking to half cup all week, this morning almost seemed like a drag to open new creamer for so little, so I just skipped it. My head caught up in the grocery store and said wtf we doing this with no coffee cusscusscuss. A gentler side of my brain added politely, Yes, during a taper, no less, and went back to humming along not helping at all with the shopping list.

~~~~~~~

1:45 p.m. Took a vote. Unanimous for 1/4 cup of coffee.

2:00 p.m. Headache was gone almost instantly.

~~~~~~~

It's getting almost comical how easy my marriage is with Pinky out of the way now.

~~~~~~~~

I just found out we've had an accordion in the basement for years. Like possibly way over a decade years.

An accordion??? O_o

~~~~~~~~

Lots of waking up last night, BUT I can't remember the dreams I wrestled with. That's a first. I remember I had lots of them and they disturbed me. That's all.

I've been quietly asking myself more questions. Maybe I'll get some more answers soon.

as the Storm rolls through

I will be very surprised if internet doesn't completely go down at least for a short while during the Storm.

Prayers with all our patriots as the war rages for our freedom from slavery. Qanons who've kept up with the research will understand this vid progression. Blessings on the SRA victims who've stepped forward and even testified amid ongoing threats to life and safety.

This is not a game.

past the hardest part, perhaps

Someday our mythologies will be about the stories we grew up with that developed our truths through an entertainment industry.

Kinda makes you wonder if the old Greek stuff was originally written by guys not unlike Stan Lee...

Except nowadays the writers are heroes themselves.

I say that with deep respect. I know it wasn't easy.

Someone lately keeps wiping out my produce in my player shop every single night. I normally wake up to all the arrows or portal staffs being gone, but lately it's carrots and potatoes. o_o

Every night? 

lol

~~~~~~~~~

Lotta rain out there. Sure beats ice and snow.

I moved tomorrow's appointment so I can take care of something else. The countdowns seem to have faded since dad died, so it's not bothering me at all.

Aside from my normal manic waves rolling through, which seem gentler lately, I seem to have flattened back out into mostly not feeling. I noticed it several weeks ago, like I flipped in an eye blink, like Pinky relinquished control and Jacky stepped back in. Jacky is the practical problem solver in a more ego pov. No worries about others. No holding down the fort, as it were. A few times there have been minor struggles to care, but Jacky soothes it over with Doesn't this feel better now? To just not care? And the point is conceded and rebellion lies back down to sleep.

Yes, I am still me. But who is me? Me is we. The Pinky years seem to be on hiatus. Janika is allowed in name only (alcohol craving disaster, we roll our eyes). Jacky is back on original Plan to get healthy again, and results so far are nothing less than amazing.

Pinky was so afraid to give up control. Being an interface doesn't mean being executive function.

Pinkybluejacky was always a conundrum.

effects

I like seeing how far I can progress effects. I save each change and move forward from there. I used to use the AOL editor years ago, made some interesting artwork out of photos. Then I played on Print Shop for a few more years. Now I just play on my phone. I do this with all kinds of pix. The goal with the save and progress is like a visual game, a logical irreversible sequence of 'events' with a final destination that still retains integrity. Progression is usually impossible at some point.

This is an RLT progression. Original photo is from IMDb at  https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2088699/mediaviewer/rm3627150080

~~~~~~~~~

This year has 2018 beat hands down for length of illness time for people around me. My worst ongoing symptom is laryngitis, otherwise never really felt the impacts others have been dragging through for weeks.

So I cut coffee down to less than half a cup a day several days ago, and my blood pressure has improved markedly so far. Honestly not missing it like I thought I would.

My blood sugar has likewise been pretty fantastic for having another steroid shot. Of course, I'm not being stupid. Just usually don't see it back in the 90s so quickly.

Assessment-wise, just about everything heart related is unchanged from 2011. I have a few notes leaning toward congestive heart failure developments, but they don't seem to be developing much over time. Obviously, meds that cause edema make things worse, and so I fight to get back off them. If coffee were a med I'd be fighting it, too. The side effects have been ridiculous, just because it's socially sanctioned doesn't mean I'm not an idiot hanging onto it.

~~~~~~~~

See, like this.

~~~~~~~~~~~

So anyone who looked for me is getting up to the 24 hour world news information on my facebook and pinky blog. I'll put it here as well.

From https://dinarrecaps.com/our-blog/restored-republic-via-a-gcr-rumors-as-of-feb-22-2020

Pinky blog followers watched me struggle publicly with many researches over the last few years over whether the Intel drops were for real. I had to migrate to new blogs and accounts to stay ahead of the tens of thousands of mass account closures as we tried our hardest to keep saying these things out loud.

I hope you will all understand many good things are coming. Too bad the medias are still trying not to let this wonderful news become public for the masses. Many will be confused. Please be patient while the light of truth is worked through the dark to you all.

I love you.