My mom and I both get a nerve pain on the side of our foot randomly and often (the arrow points where). It happens not when we walk, but usually when we’re sitting or laying down. I rarely wear shoes, don’t have dry skin or callouses or corns, etc., there. It’s def a sharp nerve pain, like a pin stabbing that spot (not in the bone or a joint). What is it? We’ve both experienced it for years.
I am my monster. I am an grotesque being of green, dead, rotten, sloughing flesh, living in a boggy mire of soupy mess. I wallow in all things unbecoming, undesirable, repulsive, abhorrent, repugnant. I am my own mire, repelling all who dare to come near, or stubble upon, me.
They, they are the ones I love, the ones I want, I need in my life. They are the ones I long to accept me, to… validate… the ones I need to understand, attend…
but instead they withdraw, turn their eyes and shun, they cringe at the sight of me, even at the thought…
They cannot kill me, the best they can do is grin, and bear the weight of me.
OK, guys, this one is going to be a bit different from my normal Writing While High posts. I am going into this one already a bit happy. Coming down from a smoke out, and just now ate a few gummies. So we’ll see where this goes.
It is the new year, so why not make this Writing While High prompt, Resolutions.
I really didn’t have any resolutions this year. Due to COVID-19, Sheltering-in-Place, and all, I had already been well into a workout routine, food plan, better health care of myself, mental health working, etc… thing I just decided to do one day and, thanks to Mary Jane, I can actually focus on and have the motivation and do it.
I’ve been doing better and better since I started in November.
I do not put time limits on anything. My only goal is to do better than before. I know what my agreements are and I do them, no overthinking, no monsters in my head degrading my desires and work, no procrastination. No pain. No punishment.
And it is working.
I have already started working what would have been my other resolution as well. Our house needs a lot of repair. We’ve tried and tried to get enough money together to do a big fix. It never works out. I have slowly started doing little fix-em-up projects on my own. It really feels good to even get one small thing done yourself.
I have felt a growth of confidence within myself lately, I think it also can be attributed to the partakage of the Grass. It kills my anxiety, therefore it kills the Monsters in my head that tell me I suck, I’m worthless. Without those voices I find more courage to try things and actually work to improve my skills.
Also, anxiety and depression are draining in every way. So by taking the Herb and killing the anxiety and depression, I find myself with much more energy and willingness to get things done!
A lot has changed the past six months. I am almost like a whole new person.
So, no need for resolutions. Just keep doin’ what I do.
I am thinking about giving myself a mow-hawk. I really like the idea. I’ve always wanted one so it would not only be fun, awesome, and cool, but also a bucket-list item!
I do feel genuinely happy and free. Like the whole of eternity is at my fingertips and, within the realm of possibility, I can do anything I set my mind to.
And so I no longer worry about every little grain of sand, I know life isn’t great, it’s full of pain and suffering but….I’m cool with it.
I’m all good, yo.
Like, for real, gimme some munchies, a roof over my head, and the love of my loved ones, I’m all goood.
One good thing that has come out of this pandemic is that it has forced those of us with brains in our heads to slow down. Stop and smell the flowers.
My mind is a blank tonight.
Really, I’m dull tonight. Except that my keys seem to be floating under my fingers.
I just went on a laughing fit so long and hard I almost pee’d myself.
one of the most intriguing effects of weed for me is that kind of synesthesia that happens so often during a good high. When senses get mixed up and crisscrossed. It amuses me, fascinates me. I usually both wonder over it and melt into it.
A great experience.
Last night I smoked some hookah with weed mixed in the shisha. I believe it was a mix of mostly indica and a bit of sativa.
As we slipped into the high, feeling very melty into the couch, my friend put on some music. The song was Oh, Death by Jen Titus.
The low humming by the men set my bones to a pleasant vibration. The music vibrated in my muscles and my body instantly relaxed. I felt blissful as the vibrations of Jens voice and the male voices purred throughout my body. Every note was a physical vibration, It was exhilarating and pure peace all at once. I was truly feeling the music.
I’ve seen spoken words as colors before, I’ve physically felt emotions (happiness was head pain, fear was a burning sensation on my skin, sadness was chills),… I’m no stranger to synesthesia. But the way I felt the music last night was a whole different level of awe.
I ate some gummies a few minutes ago. The special kind of gummies. although the ones I just ate are a hybrid strain, I totally prefer straight sativa. I like the head high more than the body high. I like communing with the universe, yo.
I have been mulling over the idea of writing while high just to see what comes of it. I have been wanting to do it for a while now but the last several times I got high I was hit with a heavy sleepiness and/or lethargy, and/or I was crossfaded. Anyway, I just didn’t write.
This time, though, I planned ahead, ate the gummies mid-day instead of evening, and sat my butt in front of my computer before the high hit.
As my regular readers know, I never edit my posts, I write and then hit “publish”, no editing. I do this because I like to stay raw, true… and I think it holds my emotion and thought process so readers can, hopefully, feel like this is an in person talk rather than a stranger reading a stranger’s drivel.
Oh, OK, I think it’s starting to hit.
I am ready to go.
I have decided my prompt for this experiment is going to be discussing a certain fantasy I have had since I hit puberty, I have had the same base for the fantasy that long, but over the years the players, setting, and circumstances have changed. Why do I have this fantasy? What caused it? It’s so different from who I am and want to be, so, why have it?
The fantasy always consists of me (but what I think of as beautiful, attractive, very feminine, etc.) and a “hero” or two or three, usually a man/men, a crisis, a battle, and me and the hero becoming buds.
I am an intelligent, strong, perfectly capable woman who just so happens to have gotten into a lot of trouble. Hero (s) comes along a helps me out of the imminent danger and then we partner up and fight battles together.
OK, that’s just the most recent incarnation of this fantasy. There have been many incarnations over the years. When I first started having the fantasy I was very much a damsel in distress and there was one “Hero” and he was my dream guy. At the time my dream guy was dark haired, brown skinned, slender but tone athletic build, average height, kind, strong, leader…. you know, a Hero.
Yeah, a very common fantasy for girls. A very common fantasy due to societal and religeous inffluences teaching girls they need a hero, they need to be taken care of, protected. They need a man.
I was caught in that world growing up. And because I was also struggling with my life and drowning in feelings of loss, helplessness, uselessness… I totally fell for the hero idea, someone to come save me and make everything allright forever.
My religious upbringing had a lot to do with it as well. religion is very much a psychological safety blanket. We feel lost – no one feels like they got it all together all the time- we have that fantasy of being saved; the church comes along and offers us a savior, but our minds don’t think of a soul savior, but a letteral person who comes along and fixes our life and is our sugar daddy for life. Hell yeah, I will hold that fantasy in the back of my mind while I follow this God dude as my security blanket, he will save my soul, keep me “safe” not just right now but for all eternity.
I fell for that gobblety gook, too. It felt safe…but it wasn’t real, it was just a coping mechanism for life.
As I got older the fantasy would take on a romantic and even sexual context. Now my hero is someone I fall in love with… and have sex with.
More comfort, more security. In all aspects of life, I am brought safety and comfort.
Throughout this time the hero was always a man, and I was always helpless and weak. And he always swooped in and took charge and rescued me.
As I matured, my view of the world expanded and changed. My idea of women needing help by men dissapeared, my veiw of gender rolls shrank and shivelled. My fantasy slowly and significantly changed. MY hero sometimes became a woman, sometimes multiplied, and ofted became characters from movies, shows, books, etc. Sometimes the hero was a villian I fought and overcame or befriended. Sometimes I was the villian who learns new ideas and values.
As I grew in knowledge and experience, and as I overcame my mental illnesses, my fantasy turned from me and my hero to me being the hero, to me becoming a member of a group of heroes who have saved each other and helped each other become their own hero and now fight together to save others.
I have no idea where I am going with all of this, LOL. I am having trouble concentrating right now. So, yeah, I have this fantasy, a lot of people have their own version of this same damned fantasy and it’s all because we were raised wrong.
Even our fantasies have mental illness!
But It’d OK, life is good. LOL, LOL, LOL>>>
Oh, I am having fun with this writing while hight thing.
Everything I write is so gotdamned funny! LOL!
OH, I am going to laugh so hard when I read this back later! LOL!
I am going to pee my pants! LOL!
Lee(from the other room): “Tamra, why are you crying?”
ME: “I’m not …*Sprshhshsh*… I’m trying not to laugh….*sshhshhshh*”
Lee: “OK…you have fun with that now…”
Still trying not to pee my pants…
Trying to get my thoughts together. Hard to concentrate.
A bit sleepy now. Edibles come in waves, especially when you have delayed stomach emptying. Hehe. So I’ll have moments like this where I am more clear headed, then moments of total high where I laugh so hard I almost wet myself. Then less high, then high high again, and back and forth for a bit until the high fades all together.
Singing – “I want yoooouuu, you know what I meaaan….”
Lee’s talking to his gaming friends about me being “So super high right now…”
I love hearing him laughing with his friends. It’s been a long time.
My little butthole (my dog Tindi) is over here wanting to play with me… I just spelled ‘here’ ‘hear’ and I corrected the error but it just hit me as so damned funny! That type of error is hilarious! but what makes us make that error? the ideas are separate in our minds, but the spelling and idea get lost on the way from the mind to the fingers.
I keep stopping typing so I can giggle, concentrate on giggling. LOL
Lee – “Tamra, you still alive?!”
ME- *giggle* “yeaaaahhh” *giggle*
Lee- “OK” , to his buddies, “She’s still alive”.
It just took me sooooooo long to type that.
That word is so expressionate. That’s, like, exactly what you do when you giggle. expressionate, I am laughing so hard at how I spelled that. I’m not even gonna correct it so y’all can see it and laugh, too.
One thing I’m not typing down for you is the constant negative narrative I have going on at the same time as my hillarious shit. As I type something hillarious, my negative mind is telling me you all are not entertained. That I am dumb and this blog post is terrible, meaningless, and brings no good to this world because I bring no good to this world, I never have and never will. I’ll go to my death never having made one person truly smile or truly better. My bone shall chill in the fires of hell.
And on the outside I am laughing and feeling oh, so happy. LOL *big smile*
You know the constant alert beeps on your phone? I know I can turn off notifications, but subconsiously I leave it on because I need to feel a contextion to other human beings. I need to be loved,
“I diserve to be loved!”
My #SPNFamily will get that quote. LOL
I’m so tired. Sleepy.
Yeah, I just did that…I can hardly believe I cold handle it. LOL
Gonna go get somthing to drink. Dry mouth. From high, not high.
LOL, my #T1D peeps will laugh at that. LOL
Lee to his gamer buddies – “LOL, Tamra walks and giggles into the room, walks between me and the TV, grabs a soda, turns to me and giggles, walks back into the room.”
LOL “Lee, is Tindi outside?!”
Oh, wait, I didn’t say that outloud.
But, really? Is Tindi outside?
I went to let Tindi back in. One the way back remebered Lee got beef jerky.
“Didn’t you get beef jerky?”
“Where is it?”
Lee hands it to me.
“Egh, it’s the sticks…” I say, then shrug and tke the jerky with me, “I’m high…”
These are gross, but they’re fine when ur high.
Couldn’t find the meme I was looking for but this one gets the point.
Yeah, this was a jump back to the “high, not high” comment. #T1D.
Awe, the high is starting to die. 😦
This was fun, maybe I’ll start a series of writings while high.
So, I hope you learned a lot about why I have such a common fantasy.
For many more people than in years past anxiety grows stronger as the election nears. As today is the day before the election I find I have a headache from all the jaw clenching. My mind has been loopy and sleep patterns are bad again. Also, when anxiety is high, depression grows as well.
I see pro Trump posts by people I love and, after all this time, I still can not fathom how they think Trump is a successful president…. or even a remotely good person.
Are they really that blind to what is right before their eyes? Trump’s not even trying to hide his evil ways! Are they willfully ignorant or truly ignorant? Or, -I sincerely hope not- are they as evil as he is?
If I weren’t an atheist I would be shouting from the rooftops how very much he matches the profile for the Antichrist.
I wonder how many Trump supporters are only still supporting him because they are too proud and/or ashamed to admit they were so very wrong. In this, I beg you, please, please swallow your pride and vote for Biden!
Speaking of Biden, no, he is not perfect, but in a two party system he is the only choice if you want a much, much safer, happier, and healthier United States of America.
At least he is human…
Enough with the politics and back to my politics induced high anxiety. I have had a few strange and disturbing anxiety dreams the past few days. Although my anxiety is caused by the looming possible destruction of all things good I know in my country because a person (Trump), who more than likely has narcissistic personality disorder as well as antisocial personality disorder that are not controlled, is trying to literally steal the election by a number of different illegal means, my dreams have not been political, but more about my feelings of loss of control and rejection or unrequited love.
Dream 1 – *Warning, this dream is of a very sexual nature* Hubby and I were arguing about our relationship (in real life we have a very good relationship but my mental monsters always tell me he doesn’t really want me, I am not loveable. So I often have to get reassurance and fight the lies in my head). I ask him if he wants me. I ask him why we don’t have sex very often. He gives me cookie-cutter responses which only frustrate me more and make me think he is lying and really doesn’t love me. Finally he says, “Hey, look at that guy over there.” I look. “Yeah, what about him?”.
“Do you think he’s good looking?” Hubby asks.
I think maybe he is trying to lead into telling me the problem is his self-esteem and has nothing to do with me. “I guess.” I reply, still not sure what this has to do with the conversation.
The man has been watching us and smiles at me and now walks over. “Hi.” He says. I instantly can sense that he is a nice person.
Hubby smiles and asks both of us, “Do you want to have a threesome?”
“Sure.” The guy replies.
I am aroused and nervous and insecure about the idea. “Sure”, I reply genuinely into the idea despite the feelings.
*Side note. In real life I am the one who has tentatively brought up the idea of threesomes or an open relationship. Hubby does not like the idea at all and we have never gone beyond the “How would you feel about…?” point. I am perfectly fine either way.*
We go to a place that has an orgy getting started. I am a bit surprised, I thought it was just going to be the three of us at home. There are at least five other people besides the three of us.
Everyone gets naked, Hubby, the guy, and I start out together but I soon become frustrated, angry, and crushed by the fact that this threesome is much more of a twosome and I feel very much like a third wheel.
At some pont the guy is no longer in the room, I am sitting in a cushioned chair feeling like a wallflower. A young, very attractive woman starts to come on to Hubby. I can feel the heat of jealousy and pressure of heartache in my cheeks and chest. They kiss and I think of how much he loves to kiss and how much I loath it (I really do not like mouth to mouth kissing, no idea why). I think that it is things like this that turn him off of me. I am the reason he doesn’t want me. Tears stream down my face.
He begins to give her oral pleasure and I just can’t stand seeing this. She looks over to me, smiles, and motions me to come over to them. I do. This time she gets all the fun from Hubby and I, and I am not feeling anything but slightly aroused and emotionally negative. I know it is the jealousy mostly, and the jealousy is fed by my insecurity… but I don’t let myself realize that at this moment.
I walk away, again, and watch Hubby be very social and having a good time. A man approaches me and gently caresses my shoulder. He tells me something about me having a beautifully curvy body. We go at it and eventually I realize I am feeling the pleasure, very aroused, but I just can’t seem to climax. At some point I look over to Hubby who is watching us and although his expression is slightly positive I can see the hurt and anger he is hiding.
I suddenly realize he is all I want, he is all I need, and he values me.
Dream 2 – I am in my first year of college, still living at home with Mom and one of my brothers. I have not been going to classes and Mom is getting on me about it. I feel lost, depressed, anxious. I have no idea what the future holds or how I will support myself, what I want to do for a living. I really feel like I am sinking in my classes, not able to keep up with all the work, and I hate going to school.
My brother says something like, “It’s not that hard, just do it, get through it and then do what you want.” I want to smack him upside the head. None of what he just said is true and I hate him for being successful and making it look so easy.
I get in my little red Suzuki Swift and drive off, intending to go to class but as I head that direction my chest grows tight, I feel sick to my stomach, and I feel like I am going to have an anxiety attack. I pull into a McDonald’s parking lot and sit there bawling my eyes out and feeling like a huge failure.
Dream 3 – I find out I am pregnant and I am scared out of my mind. I drill into Hubby to not tell anyone at all. With my health issues this pregnancy is super high risk and if I have a miscarriage I would rather no one have known anything. I think about my option to have an abortion but I just can’t bring myself to do that. Yes, there could be serious, permanent problems with the health of the baby. But the baby could also be perfectly healthy. I think about all the possibilities and scenarios. I am driven to the brink of an anxiety attack.
The baby is born through C-section because it is so big (due to insulin therapy for my Type 1 Diabetes). It is a boy and he has Down’s Syndrome but is otherwise healthy. We take him home.
Here is to fighting for the next four years to be safer, happier, and healthier than the last four years. VOTE!!!
I seem to have an entirely new outlook on life. I used to hold on to relationships as if they were the most important things in life and it was some kind of blasphemy to let them go. I don’t do that anymore. If a relationship is one sided or toxic, let it go; stop hurting yourself by trying to hold on to something that does you no good. You are not a bad person for ending a bad relationship.
This is my life. I am not who I was before. I no longer try to be loved. I am loved and those who love me show it regularly and in many different ways. I do not need everyone I know to love me and I do not need to fight for love, love is natural and does not need to be fought for.
I want to manifest my art. I want to write all the stories I’ve been creating in my mind since I was eleven years old. I want to build furniture for my yard and cats. I want to fix my house with my own two hands. I want to landscape my yard all by myself. I have the ability to do all of this but have never had the….guts…to do it.
Why? What am I afraid of? If I fail it is only myself I’d be letting down.
I have slowly this past week let go of my fear, my inhibitions. I have been gingerly letting myself be free, wild, untied. It feels good and has been good for my imagination. I am starting to see things differently and I like what I see. I feel happiness. I am no longer tied down by cultural, racial, “proper” guidelines and rules. I am allowing me to be myself.
This all has not been easy. Not at all. I have made little steps, both forward and back. This has been a very long journey, a lifetime of struggle to find out who I am and what I want and need for myself to be safe and happy. I have learned and worked hard and the journey is nowhere near its end.
A blog about my life with multiple chronic illnesses… and some other things I like and do mixed in as well.