Emotional Processing And Pain I Could Once Ignore

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Content Warnings for discussion of childhood trauma (specifically neglect and abuse at the hands of my parents and brother).

I wish yesterday’s good mood had lasted a bit longer [it did eventually pick back up again, but today did not help much]. I made it through an entire day with it intact, but it did not survive a night of poor sleep and an unfocused day of finding myself browsing the internet because I needed something more engaging than my work to keep me awake. At least nothing bad has happened. I came by this poor mood honestly. It is a melancholy of my own making. A sadness of my own. Pure, homegrown sorrow. It was, of course, influenced by outside sources, as all such things are. It’s not like I want to think about my miserable childhood. I’ve gotten pretty good at not thinking about it, most of the time, but there’s little I can do in the face of something that will push past the blanket I’ve thrown over that portion of my mind and draw bits of my past out into the light. I’m only half to blame for it this time, though. Sure, I chose to watch last week’s John Oliver deep dive about homeschooling knowing that I was going to get myself caught up in the misery of the past, but I wasn’t exactly expecting it to be so focused on how homeschooling is used by some parents to avoid scrutiny while they abuse or neglect their children. Nor was I expecting an incredibly brief conversation with my friend about her trip to her local county fair to bring up oddly strong memories of the fairs I went to ask a child that eventually revealed to me that all the happiest memories I have of my childhood are from when I was alone or at least away from my entire biological family. But they did and now I’m trying to figure out if I have something I need to work through here or if I need to allow myself to be sad for a while since that’s a pretty reasonable reaction to my reflections and minor realization.

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Personal Warmth Thanks To Cozy Blankets And A Good Day

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I spent the weekend relaxing. I did my chores, listened to podcasts, played more Baldur’s Gate 3 (I’m currently hopping between a few alternate save files as the mood strikes me), and enjoying the chilly weather. I got to sleep underneath my comforter for the first time in more than five months, maybe six, and I feel like I slept super well both nights I got to sleep past sunrise. I had a few weird dreams both nights, none of which I remember at this point beyond a few vague impressions (well, now that I’m really digging into those impressions, I remember most of one of them), but I slept like a rock. Both mornings, when I woke up, I had to carefully stagger my way to the bathroom because my body was so dead to the world that I could barely keep myself upright until I’d had a chance to go back to bed and lay around for a while, waking up slowly as I luxuriated in the comfortable sensation of being beneath a big pile of blankets and not being so warm that I was sweating through them. I’ve always appreciate a good, weighty blanket pile, but my past couple years of plastic-covered windows and desperate attempts to keep my apartment warm enough that my pipes don’t freeze and my pet bird doesn’t die meant that I couldn’t do my usual thing of opening the windows in my bedroom at night in the winter and burrowing under as many blankets as I could comfortably fit on my bed.

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The Luckiest Man In The World

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“I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky alright, but don’t let it go to your head, Mister Two-Times-Lottery-Winner.”

“I mean it, though. Look at that parking spot!” Eli gestured at the distance between his car and the steps leading up to his accountant’s firm.

“I not only won the lottery twice,” Eli paused to make sure no one was listening as they walked past, “but I didn’t win until I’d learned enough sense to not blow it all immediately. Plus! I always find good parking, I’ve never had anything stolen despite how often I forget to lock my doors, and that I’ve never tripped, choked, or gotten sick. There’s no explanation for it other than sheer luck.”

Eli grabbed the railing running up the center of the stone stairs and gestured at the building. “Plus, I happened to make friends with the right accountant while I was this building’s janitor, so I’ve got no worries about embezzlement.”

“Yeah, fine.” Zach said from a couple steps behind Eli. “Who cares?”

“I do. It doesn’t make se-” Eli, looking back at Zach, tripped on the next stair and fell forward, barely catching himself before he face-planted onto the marble.

As Zach opened his mouth to laugh, there was a sharp crack followed less than a moment later by an air-shattering boom. Abandoning propriety, the two of them scrambled up the steps, through the doors, and into the shadowy depths of the firm’s lobby.

As the two of them sat on the ground, panting, while the accounting firm’s security staff scurried around to find the source of the bullet that had nearly killed Eli, Eli laughed until he was gasping.

“Okay, I won’t argue.” Zach said, fighting the panic. “But you can’t say you’ve never tripped anymore.”

My Experience Of OCD As A Whole

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Content Warning for discussions of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, specifically the obsessions and compulsions that make it up, which, in my case, includes suicidal ideation.

I write about my mental health a lot. I’ve written blog posts, poetry, short stories, and even worked on longer fiction all about my depression, my anxiety, dealing with trauma/PTSD, etc. The only thing I’ve never managed to really cover in a way that felt satisfying was my OCD. I can write about it just fine and I’ve done plenty of blog posts discussing it and the ways it impacts my life, but I’ve never really been able to capture how it feels in a way that felt true to my own experiences, as I’ve done with the other things I’ve mentioned. The only bit of writing I’ve ever found that felt true to my experience of OCD (specifically as an expression of it rather than a mechanical depiction of it) was John Green’s Turtles All The Way Down, and even the best mechanical depictions of it are still fairly rare given how often it’s falsely depicted as different types of fastidiousness in popular media. Green’s excellent book felt incredibly reflective of my own experience, even if it still fell short because of the inherent distance between Green’s experience (which he wrote about) and my experience (which I’ve yet to ever convey in a way that feels true and complete). It’s frustrating to want to capture something that has such a strong and particular feeling to it and be unable to do it in a satisfying way no matter how often I’ve tried.

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Fall Has Finally Fallen Over Wisconsin

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After what felt like a never-ending summer (I’ve been wearing shorts and flipflops non-stop since I-don’t-even-know-when last spring, but it was easily five months ago since I made the change before my friends’ wedding), fall has finally arrived. It feels odd to see the leaves already making substantial progress give most nights haven’t dropped below the mid-sixties until very recently, but there have been enough cooler days that they maybe got the program. Or maybe they’re trying to provide an example since it feels like the temperature is following the leaves rather than the other way around. I mean, it is actually fall now, on the calendar, so it’s been weird seeing summer stick around as long as it has (with a significant resurgence in the last days of September and first days of October). Normally we’d have had a week or two of cooler days and many cooler nights by this point, but the day I’m writing this is the first time I’ve thought about leaving my windows open all day since it won’t get warm enough to wish I’d turned the AC on at any point in the next few days. Sure, it might wind up warmer inside than I keep the AC at, but I only keep it there so my home is cool at night and so my bedroom is cool enough for me to sleep easily when I go to bed rather than knowing I’ll have to resign myself to a sweaty hour or two before it finishes cooling down since I turned the air on after I got home from work.

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Losing Context And Burning Out

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I was talking to a friend the other day about everything going on in our lives right now and she remarked that it seems like everyone is going through a lot these days. I responded that it seemed true that everyone seems to be having a rough year and that no one who I talked to regularly wasn’t having a difficult time at some point in the last month. As I’ve thought about this conversation further, I’ve added in my on-going thoughts about how long it has been since I last felt at peace for more than a single day. Because, if you think about it, the last eight years have been full of fairly dramatic moments, events, and entire years, to the point that it now feels difficult to properly contextualize anything outside the scale of my day-to-day life. Plus, since stuff is happening relentlessly, there’s no opportunity for anyone to take a break, make some space, and try to recontextualize things, there really isn’t a way to fix this problem in a way that doesn’t contribute to the on-going problem of being constantly overwhelmed. I mean, the last quarter of my life includes Trump’s presidency, all the crimes related to that, the 2020 election, all the crimes related to THAT, the complete enshitification of pretty much the entire internet (though I’d say this marks just the conclusion of that process since it began far earlier than 2015), the various police murders of people they were arresting or just encountering in the course of their state-sponsored violence (which has going on for much longer than the past 8 years but feels like it’s been getting worse), all the mass shootings (which have been going on most of my life and seem to only be getting worse), and so much more.

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My First Session of Heart: The City Beneath Is In The Can

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After so many months of preparation, it finally happened. I ran my first session of Heart: The City Beneath. As far as first sessions go, it was a bit rough at times, but considering this is the first time any of us played the game and was the first time our group was roleplaying together (since we never played our icebreaker game), I think it went pretty well. We may not have made it through the entire mission I sent them on in order to give them something to do as we all settled in to the game, but we made it through most of it. They killed a nasty beast, made it through their first delve, and started to repair a bit of magic integral to the Haven they were going to be passing through. We also learned about fallout, about stress rolls, about using the character sheet for Heart in Roll20, and about risky and dangerous actions. I’m hoping sessions will move a bit more quickly in the future, so I can attempt to stick to my goal of getting all five of my players through at least one beat per session (or one beat equivalent of progress since Major and Zenith beats take a bit more setup and work to be met than a Minor beat would). I know they’re all on track to get at least one met by the time the “session” has ended when they return from their mission, get paid, and rest up a bit, but I think it’s possible that my players might not bite at the opportunity for some of the less mechanically-oriented beats and I might need to help cajole them into it.

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Sometimes, You Gotta Take A Little Risk

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Galbret stepped up to the off-color wall panel and pressed a hand to it.

“Do you really think no one knows about this passage?”

“Yes.” Galbret tried to focus his hearing on the door, but Xendin’s pacing, heeled boots clicking on the stone floor, made it impossible to hear anything. “Just hush for a minute.”

Xendin stopped pacing and rolled their eyes at Alesi, but her back was turned as she watched the way they’d come.

Just as Xendin was about to speak again, Galbret laughed and stepped back from the opening wall panel. “Ha! I knew I could figure out the lock!”

As Alesi and Rogmaff started down the hallway, steps silent as they went, Xendrin paused next to Galbret. “How do you know this passageway is unknown to the Corpsedancer?”

“I don’t. But this place is so chock full of dust, I doubt anyone uses it. Plus, we only need it forgotten long enough for us to escape since we’ve got the Orbs of Zillamur. Once we’re out of the castle, it won’t matter.”

“Sure, and if there’s traps waiting for us on the other side? Or it leads to the Corpsedancer’s Hall of Bones?”

“Then we improvise.” Galbret ushered Xendrin inside and closed the wall panel. “Now hush. We’ve gotta catch up to the others.”

“How can you be so comfortable not knowing what awaits us?” Xendrin’s heeled boots clicked down the passage as they forgot silence in the face of their queries.

Galbret shrugged. “Sometimes you just gotta roll the dice.”

The entire table erupted in boos and hoots of derision as Thomas, a grin plastered across his face, waggled his eyebrows at Sam who sighed and covered their face with their hands.

“Sorry,” Thomas grinned even wider. “Was that too PUNishing for this group?”

The Wearing Down Continues

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Every so often, I just have one of those days where I forget to take time for lunch and wind up clocking out, turning to grab my bag, and noticing my lunch is still sitting on my desk where I left it when I got into work that morning. Today was one of those days. When I got in to work, I went to my desk, unpacked my bag, and then left to go check on the test I’d left running overnight. Three hours later, at twelve thirty, I returned to my desk for the first time. I left seconds later and didn’t come back for another hour. After typing up a quick message, I left again and didn’t go back for another two hours. When I stepped away to go get some files off my testing laptop, I got swept up in a “let’s go have a meeting at the local ice cream parlor” event and didn’t get back to my desk until almost five. So all I had to eat today, before I came home and ate dinner, was my fiber supplement, a Nutri-Grain bar, my daily coffee, and a scoop of rainbow sherbet at the ice cream parlor. All despite running around so much that I felt like a disgusting, sweaty mess before I’d even gone on my daily walk, much less worked several more hours and gone on a 4-mile round trip bike ride to a nearby ice cream parlor. And I was so tired by the first time I realized I’d never eaten lunch at 3pm that I just wasn’t hungry anymore.

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