crunchy

I wrote a very horned-up post last night. But underneath that energy was a wild undercurrent of anxiety.

Last night was so weird. I don’t even have appropriate astrology to pin it on.

K was on a date-type thing with someone she hadn’t seen in a long time. In my gut I knew it was going to be weird, that she was going to feel weird (spoiler: she did). She’s super intense with her attention so I also knew she probably wasn’t going to text like she usually does.

Logically, I knew all that. But then it was midnight and I hadn’t heard anything from her. So all my insides lit up like they were on fire. Sleep kind of became impossible.

I read some erotica because I thought it would distract me. All it did was make me feel even more on-fire. Of course.

So I texted a sometimes-lover to tell him about it. He responded by insisting that he come over—NOW. Yes, I’d stoked his fire by talking about princesses turning into slave girls. But the sudden intensity of his blaze still startled me.

He did not come over. It was midnight and I needed sleep or else I’d be worthless.

But K never texted so I did not sleep well, which meant I was still worthless.

Eventually, of course, I did hear from her. She feels terrible and wants to come over, cuddle, care, all of those things she is so good at doing. But I am feeling a little crunchy. It will all be okay, but I need a minute to catch my breath, regain my footing.

Also I don’t really want her to see me cry and I will probably do that if I see her.

Good lord, humans are so complicated. But also extremely simple and primal and beautiful. Now off I go to wrap my big raw nerve of a body back up in a blanket.

warning: this gets kind of horny

I’m feeling stuff so I’m going to write about it.

First things first, I have a girlfriend: K. I don’t know why that word feels scary to write when it’s true. She is the coolest person ever. A sensitive and curious artist. Extremely hot. Fun. Communicative. Adjectives. I feel incredibly lucky, and that scares me, so I try not to think about it like that. More on that later, I’m sure.

We are kind of open. We’ve gone to queer sex parties; I watched her zap a line full of curious people one-by-one with an electric wand (it was awesome). I told her that sometimes I hook up with men and she was okay with it, “as long as you don’t feel used afterwards.”

I also told her that deep down I’m really submissive. She got me a little leather collar that is on its way soon (taking a while to be constructed). Huff. She is the best.

Relationships and commitment scare me but I’m also just feeling flooded with how much I like her.

She’s mentioned wanting to try out being a professional Domme. That it would be really fun and fulfilling to help people actualize their fantasies. People are beautiful and complicated.

One of her friends is a trans woman with a fantasy about being pregnant. She is currently having dinner at K’s house. It’s a friend hangout but also kind of a date. K has played along with this woman’s fantasies before, telling her things like how she wants to impregnate her and take care of her, that kind of thing. They are going to make soup tonight. K’s focus can be really intense and I know this is why she hasn’t texted me.

I feel okay about her doing this with this person, but I’m finding that the not-hearing-from-her thing is not fun. But I’m dancing around my apartment doing chores and trying to keep occupied in the meantime.

…this includes reading a super-horny book by Anne Rice and texting men. [covers face with hand]

There are three men that I talk to, and lately I’ve felt weird about seeing them so I’m basically acting like a cock-tease at this point. But then I had a breakthrough fantasy today: that when I’m with them and making them feel good, K is in the background whispering approvingly in my ear. Or she’s trained me so well that somehow pleasing men is still coming back around to pleasing her. Or… something. *fans self* Is it hot in here?!

I don’t really know anyone who won’t think I’m a complete slut weirdo if I tell them all this, so I’m writing it down here. Thank you for joining me while I make sense of my own brain.

tidal waves

My dad is depressed. It gets into the air and makes everything feel thick, heavy.

He is not sad without reason. But he doesn’t have the right tools for handling his feelings. I caught him in the kitchen sneaking “sips” of vodka, which he is absolutely not supposed to be doing.

My dad has regularly gotten drunk on vodka for most of my life, but over the past year was told by a doctor not to have it anymore. Because it makes him fall down, forget things, say stupid shit, etc. Oh also he is on a really strong anti-seizure medicine that counteracts with alcohol. I wanted to go out and throw the whole fucking bottle onto the driveway.

But we had company over and I didn’t want to make a scene. So I hid the bottle instead.

Not anywhere difficult – just four feet away, under the sink. I mostly just wanted to see what would happen.

My mom said “this is between you and him.” He also apparently called me the “women’s temperance movement” but, in typical repressed midwestern fashion, didn’t say a word about it to me.

A day passed. Then this morning I checked the hiding spot and the bottle was gone.

My mom made jokes and I tried to smile over my nervous, sad stomach. But I couldn’t shake that this was alcoholic behavior and he’s been pulling this shit for years.

I blurted all of that out and my mom rolled her eyes, like “ugh, do we have to keep talking about this?”

I have watched my dad get drunk, fall down, and get sad about it an uncomfortable number of times. But I can’t stop this. If I hide the bottle in a brilliant place, he will just buy another one. I am so sad and angry about this that it makes me want to scream in his face. But that won’t stop it either.

Luckily I have a therapist. We talk about ways that maybe I could establish some boundaries and try to find a little peace. We talk about the good things that are in my life too. She reminds me that I’m at this lake house that I’ve been craving, and I’m doing everything I wanted to do. There are other personalities in this space too, but whatever they do is not a failure on my part. My dad needs to choose to help himself and he just…. isn’t.

So at least for the next few days, I guess my strategy is to figure out how to take care of myself (that age-old question), and then remove myself when things are too much. My therapist also reminds me that I always have a choice.

This family does not let itself feel things. But I do. So I feel all of it. Sometimes that is like getting crushed by a tidal wave. But it’s way fucking healthier than the alternative. So I keep doing it.

..but maybe I can step out of the way of the tidal wave once in a while, and lovingly towel myself off.

[image found here: https://www.etsy.com/listing/112266137/apres-moi-le-deluge-fine-art-print-by?epik=dj0yJnU9WVE4RjBmQ01pTnVoaFE0cGdBTnZOTE1oRjlUb09QbUEmcD0wJm49Sm1GMFJIMVN0bEpZcXI2dHNVQnVRZyZ0PUFBQUFBR01UMGdZ%5D

just need to breathe

when you are trying to take a selfie of us and I don’t know what to do with my hands or face or body

when I am at your house and you are wrapped around me and I’m feeling trapped

..or terrified that I’m not good enough for you

just breathe.

you once told me that whenever you see me, at first my eyes and body language are always nervous for a few minutes. Like I’m subconsciously begging “please don’t get mad at me”

you said “but don’t you know by now how much I care about you, don’t you know yet that you’re safe here”

I just need to breathe

and move beyond being scared you’re going to think I look fat or bad

because things are different now

let all of that go silent

sink into my body and know I am enough.

[image found here: https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/jlarriva/tempest/ ]

mermaid report

There’s always lots spinning around. Even when you’re out of the city.

Parents are humans and sometimes they have outbursts. Sometimes your dad has road rage and threatens to beat the shit out of a random child that made a face at him. Or your mom tells you about her sadness and grief over your uncle + aunt getting divorced; and their daughter having a girlfriend; and your sister coming out as trans.

“This has been a huge year full of heavy shit,” she says. So it’s probably for the best that you don’t tell her you’re queer. Or that you have a girlfriend… and also sleep with men sometimes. Maybe don’t tell anybody that. Like, ever.

Meanwhile you feel guilt for not enjoying yourself. Not as much as you think you should. But there is still sun and lake and breeze. There is time to read books today. Beyoncé’s album exists. You picked up a giant piece of bright blue, beautifully smooth sea glass. The waves are calming.

So I don’t know. Things are complicated but there’s also love. We’re here and breathing and feeling the good and hard things.

(Image found here: http://www.mcbridegallery.com/nizovtsev/nizovtsev_paintings2.html )

oh and by the way you should thank us

I’m at a lake and it is Friday. The water is still like glass from my window, barely moving. It was so hectic getting here but now I’ve made it. Take a deep breath of cool air.

The city was hot madness but now from what I hear, it is cooling itself off a little too. Come live among the rats and trash, in this paradise where winters make you depressed and summers melt away your sanity. Where you’re paying way too much for way too little and everything is too close together.

Fun!

Wait.

Why aren’t you having fun?

woopsie

Bonjour, I have Covid.

Wow what a wild and fun time to be alive.

Am I even allowed to write that? Is someone going to censor me for saying that? I’ve had my shots. But this new one is really contagious so I got it. I also had it right when this whole thing started. That first time was a lot scarier. This time I mostly just kind of feel like I’m high.

Earlier I was meandering around my apartment and tidying up. Because if I don’t, no one else is going to. While I was tidying up, I was dancing a little. Even though I was a little dizzy.

But then it hit me how strange it was that *no one* could come into this space and see me right now. How this silly and innocuous little scene was completely closed off from the rest of world (and honestly, it would have been anyway). But now I was officially Sick. So it was closed off for the sake of public safety, not just privacy. That made it feel a little heavier.

I took two tests and both of them had two angry red lines, pretty much instantly. I thought about making a joke that woops, I’d accidentally bought a pregnancy test instead. But I didn’t.

It hasn’t really been all that dramatic. My parents sent me comfort food groceries and I have been playing video games and watching TV all day. I feel loopy and feverish but I’m okay. It’s hot as fuck outside and everything is so weird but I am okay. I feel tired and wired but also okay.

playwrong

I am a playwright. I write plays. Create theater.

So what happens when I cancel a show that I wrote? And read long guilt trip texts from my now-super-pissed director? And write apology emails to the entire cast, and the people running the theater? Am I still a playwright then?

What am I when I completely lose my inspiration and don’t want to do this anymore? When thinking about it makes me heavy with dread?

If I’m not a playwright, do I become No Longer Interesting? Do I find something new to do? Some way to be creative that actually feels fun?

I don’t know. But when a lot of people are angry, you tend to just mostly feel like a goblin who has ruined everyone’s time.

dreams!

I don’t usually sleep much on a full moon, but this time was different. So many dreams! I only remember a couple.

The dream where your teeth fall out. I had an extremely elaborate version of that. It boggles my mind that my dream made them feel so weak. Like they could be knocked out by the lightest touch. And then it’s permanent irreparable damage. Or at least it seems that way. The faux-physical feeling though. That’s the craziest part. Your brain trying relentlessly to convince you that this time, unlike all the others, is the truth.

The other one was just crying. I don’t remember many details. Just lots of sobbing. Grief-based. At nighttime. While hugging someone I couldn’t see.

It’s a full moon in Sagittarius. So you’d think the dreams would be, I don’t know, a little more gregarious. But here we are. Sobbing in dreams and trying to crawl back onto the internet while also being freaked out by it.

notes on fading a little

I went dark on social media. Because things were feeling overwhelming and I wanted peace. Stayed off for the span of a Mercury retrograde. Now that is over.

But I have to be honest. I haven’t gone back on yet. I don’t think I want to.

Everything is just… a lot. Still. I thought going offline would bring some sort of relaxed exhale, but it just clarified the parts of my brain and heart that hurt. The clarity is nice — just not exactly blissful.

Good things did happen. A lot of them did, actually. Dating certainly did not slow down. My play is going to a festival this summer. And I got back to therapy yesterday!

Because it turns out, you don’t have to do this alone. People want to help you. And that already feels so much better.