Jane's therapy to-do list
@inscrutabletrauma.bsky.social
Following this account is probably a horrible idea
My draft has a huge gap in it here because writing this is HARD, so I can't exactly release the "next chapter" in order unless there's enough interest to shame me into finishing it.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
My draft has a huge gap in it here because writing this is HARD, so I can't exactly release the "next chapter" in order unless there's enough interest to shame me into finishing it.
Off we went!
Spoiler: we built a LOT of history together, and as of this writing we still talk almost every day.
END OF EXCERPT
Spoiler: we built a LOT of history together, and as of this writing we still talk almost every day.
END OF EXCERPT
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
Off we went!
Spoiler: we built a LOT of history together, and as of this writing we still talk almost every day.
END OF EXCERPT
Spoiler: we built a LOT of history together, and as of this writing we still talk almost every day.
END OF EXCERPT
I was told to follow her car, and assured there would be loaner trunks and towels (one of the little dances of Southern etiquette is that once offered, you say you'll get your own, and are told not to bother; after those steps you give the actual answer).
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I was told to follow her car, and assured there would be loaner trunks and towels (one of the little dances of Southern etiquette is that once offered, you say you'll get your own, and are told not to bother; after those steps you give the actual answer).
After most of an hour in line, in the hottest part of the day, in the hottest week of the year, in Mississippi - the dial thermometer on the building said 107°F, which is roughly 42°C - she asked if I wanted to come swimming (swimming!), which in the above circumstance has only one answer.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
After most of an hour in line, in the hottest part of the day, in the hottest week of the year, in Mississippi - the dial thermometer on the building said 107°F, which is roughly 42°C - she asked if I wanted to come swimming (swimming!), which in the above circumstance has only one answer.
(That's from my perspective, my memory of that first impression; she's since given me the impression that she hadn't felt like any of these at the time, but then we are each a mystery, a shadow we cast on the wall that others may see and think is our reality.)
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
(That's from my perspective, my memory of that first impression; she's since given me the impression that she hadn't felt like any of these at the time, but then we are each a mystery, a shadow we cast on the wall that others may see and think is our reality.)
The first time I saw Maggie, she was about the most unassuming person imaginable, but only if considered as you would a still image. She somehow wore her frazzled frumpiness the way people do things "ironically" now: she was self-aware and funny and warm and powerfully real.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
The first time I saw Maggie, she was about the most unassuming person imaginable, but only if considered as you would a still image. She somehow wore her frazzled frumpiness the way people do things "ironically" now: she was self-aware and funny and warm and powerfully real.
Every morning I woke up disappointed to still breathe. Every bridge piling I didn't slam the car into felt like a missed opportunity. Every bite I ate fueled a machine I wanted to stop functioning.
But then, abruptly, there was Maggie.
(again, a pseudonym)
But then, abruptly, there was Maggie.
(again, a pseudonym)
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
Every morning I woke up disappointed to still breathe. Every bridge piling I didn't slam the car into felt like a missed opportunity. Every bite I ate fueled a machine I wanted to stop functioning.
But then, abruptly, there was Maggie.
(again, a pseudonym)
But then, abruptly, there was Maggie.
(again, a pseudonym)
It was August 1995, and I was just fucking done. Cobain was gone, Joy moved away, my parents had - just a few weeks before - said things that almost killed me (and did super-glue shut an early crack in the eggshell - I'll tell y'all in a later chapter), I didn't want to be alive anymore.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
It was August 1995, and I was just fucking done. Cobain was gone, Joy moved away, my parents had - just a few weeks before - said things that almost killed me (and did super-glue shut an early crack in the eggshell - I'll tell y'all in a later chapter), I didn't want to be alive anymore.
I don't have the words for how much this moment changed my life, I'm not sure there *are* words for how much the person - who appeared behind me, struck up a conversation, eventually ordered a whimsically-named shaved ice, and has been my touchstone ever since - means to me.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I don't have the words for how much this moment changed my life, I'm not sure there *are* words for how much the person - who appeared behind me, struck up a conversation, eventually ordered a whimsically-named shaved ice, and has been my touchstone ever since - means to me.
The first week of my Junior year, on Wednesday at 3:25 pm, I was at the last in a VERY long line at the snow cone stand near the high school, when I became second-to-last. I didn't know it then, but this was a Pivotal Moment.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
The first week of my Junior year, on Wednesday at 3:25 pm, I was at the last in a VERY long line at the snow cone stand near the high school, when I became second-to-last. I didn't know it then, but this was a Pivotal Moment.
(Looking back, a string of coincidence, chance meetings, stubbornness, and blind luck are what kept me alive long enough to finally find a way to *want* to live, and in hindsight I bless each wonderful blunder.)
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
(Looking back, a string of coincidence, chance meetings, stubbornness, and blind luck are what kept me alive long enough to finally find a way to *want* to live, and in hindsight I bless each wonderful blunder.)
With weeks spent getting used to feeling deeply alone again, I started junior year not caring what happened, whether I lived, or died, or ruined my life; what was left to ruin? Then, to my surprise, the Universe relented once again.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
With weeks spent getting used to feeling deeply alone again, I started junior year not caring what happened, whether I lived, or died, or ruined my life; what was left to ruin? Then, to my surprise, the Universe relented once again.
When Joy's family moved away, I quit the store and spent the summer in as much isolation as possible; it seemed that I didn't deserve a friend after all, and the Universe had stepped in to correct the oversight. I didn't deserve her, didn't deserve anything, didn't deserve to be happy, or to *be.*
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
When Joy's family moved away, I quit the store and spent the summer in as much isolation as possible; it seemed that I didn't deserve a friend after all, and the Universe had stepped in to correct the oversight. I didn't deserve her, didn't deserve anything, didn't deserve to be happy, or to *be.*
My closest friend at the time was Joy*, a cashier at the store; we spent enough off-work time together that people assumed we were dating, but the truth was even better - she was my best friend, with whom I never felt the pressure of expectations.
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*renamed for privacy
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*renamed for privacy
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
My closest friend at the time was Joy*, a cashier at the store; we spent enough off-work time together that people assumed we were dating, but the truth was even better - she was my best friend, with whom I never felt the pressure of expectations.
-
*renamed for privacy
-
*renamed for privacy
How could they know that I hated what I was so deeply that I couldn't bring myself to seek affection, and was simply grateful for their friendship? How I saw myself (for that matter, still do) as the "ugly friend" kept around for the favorable contrast?
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
How could they know that I hated what I was so deeply that I couldn't bring myself to seek affection, and was simply grateful for their friendship? How I saw myself (for that matter, still do) as the "ugly friend" kept around for the favorable contrast?
I worked after school as a cashier freshman and sophomore years, and the summer between, where I was quickly close with the girls but never really made friends with any of the boys; the boys just saw me as competition for the girls' attention, but how could they know I was so broken, so defective?
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I worked after school as a cashier freshman and sophomore years, and the summer between, where I was quickly close with the girls but never really made friends with any of the boys; the boys just saw me as competition for the girls' attention, but how could they know I was so broken, so defective?
I sat in the back of classes to keep eyes off of at me, while maintaining mostly excellent grades in difficult classes; I spent my free time reading, or writing songs, neither of which were polite to interrupt; at lunch I sat with older girls, listening much, speaking little.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I sat in the back of classes to keep eyes off of at me, while maintaining mostly excellent grades in difficult classes; I spent my free time reading, or writing songs, neither of which were polite to interrupt; at lunch I sat with older girls, listening much, speaking little.
I had fallen headlong into music as my escape at age 12 (I started learning various instruments by age 5); in high school at the height of the Grunge era this served me well. I hid in plain sight as a "sensitive musician" and wasn't expected to perform masculinity as flawlessly.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I had fallen headlong into music as my escape at age 12 (I started learning various instruments by age 5); in high school at the height of the Grunge era this served me well. I hid in plain sight as a "sensitive musician" and wasn't expected to perform masculinity as flawlessly.
By high school, I was doing okay socially with girls, but got bullied a good bit by male classmates; it seems being attentive and kind was a two-edged sword. My closest friends were girls I talked to (along with two male friends from early childhood who stuck around, bless 'em).
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
By high school, I was doing okay socially with girls, but got bullied a good bit by male classmates; it seems being attentive and kind was a two-edged sword. My closest friends were girls I talked to (along with two male friends from early childhood who stuck around, bless 'em).
I felt a huge need to be accepted by girls, and an unbearable shame that I was somehow lying to them; lying about what, I couldn't figure out, but whatever it was must be terrible for me to be so ashamed of it.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I felt a huge need to be accepted by girls, and an unbearable shame that I was somehow lying to them; lying about what, I couldn't figure out, but whatever it was must be terrible for me to be so ashamed of it.
So from the time I started being interested in girls while also desperately wanting to just make my physical self go the hell away, I flirted, made friends, flirted more, sometimes dated, panicked, and then pushed them away, over and over.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
So from the time I started being interested in girls while also desperately wanting to just make my physical self go the hell away, I flirted, made friends, flirted more, sometimes dated, panicked, and then pushed them away, over and over.
I have no clue how I had repressed why I hated myself without being able to actually *stop* hating myself; if you know, please hop in a time machine and tell young me!Except if you're already there and can afford a time machine, a copy of *Nevada*, a case of Premarin and $1,000 would've helped more.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I have no clue how I had repressed why I hated myself without being able to actually *stop* hating myself; if you know, please hop in a time machine and tell young me!Except if you're already there and can afford a time machine, a copy of *Nevada*, a case of Premarin and $1,000 would've helped more.
At this point (around 13) I had no idea even of *what* was wrong with me, but I knew it was something, and I knew it was terrible, and that they would hate me if they found out.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
At this point (around 13) I had no idea even of *what* was wrong with me, but I knew it was something, and I knew it was terrible, and that they would hate me if they found out.
I made friends with a lot of girls, went on a few disastrous first dates, and even "went steady" with a cute (Queer-coded) girl from church youth group - safe, since there were so many rules to follow - but never got too close, for fear they would figure out that something was badly wrong with me.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
I made friends with a lot of girls, went on a few disastrous first dates, and even "went steady" with a cute (Queer-coded) girl from church youth group - safe, since there were so many rules to follow - but never got too close, for fear they would figure out that something was badly wrong with me.
Turns out I got along really, really well with girls, and still do; seems that maybe not trying to define people by pseudo-randomized attributes and instead recognizing them for their choices might be a good plan. But because I hated my physical self, dating was a minefield.
November 21, 2024 at 4:13 AM
Turns out I got along really, really well with girls, and still do; seems that maybe not trying to define people by pseudo-randomized attributes and instead recognizing them for their choices might be a good plan. But because I hated my physical self, dating was a minefield.