No, more than a fever dream. I was full on in psychosis and genuinely didn't even know it. Until brandi took advantage of it and I knew something was wrong and felt BAD from day one because I thought I was lying, somehow.
Damn, and that was neither of our faults, at least not at first. When we were both children, hard to say if her behavior was her fault or not. Lack of education and lack of adults believing me, though, definitely contributed
Very very weird.
I've had a lot of epiohanies in this diary over the years, but this one breaks me a little more than usual. But I'm calmer about it than I've ever been about anything. So, meds working, therapy working, my efforts working.
And nice to know that I'm already more of who I am than I've ever been. There were truths in every identity I took on, no matter how confused I got.
Extra odd, I'm back on Ritalin, and I'm suddenly back to feeling completely like myself. As in, before all of the most recent brain damage. I feel like two different people. But everyone is complex. I'm not the only one who wanted to view themselves as a flat character in a big, flat world of flat people.
Sometimes some meds make me feel like I've been a gnat for a very long time. And I've just now gained consciousness.
Especially after months of not having all my meds. It is very, very off-putting to realize that I genuinely can not think without all my meds. Very, very strange feeling. I'm not even real, hahahaha.
No wonder I had a therapist trying to get me to stop saying I was outside my body and brain. But that's the dyspraxia, baby. Identity isn't real lol
Nothing is actually changed. You just thought about something differently.
The only thing changing is me as I adapt to every new minute. And this minute, I have 6 cats and 1 dog following me around as I clean up all their puke from accidentally switching a new food too fast lol. I own a petting zoo and my paternal instinct is powerful to be putting up with all the gross parts
edit to add: I love that I'm a lot nicer and way more trusting now than I was as a child. In my worst moments I hated the world, or actually, humanity. I don't at all now. I can even talk -- I used to just not do that lol. I'm doing pretty good considering everything
I have a doctor's appointment for the bleeding dick, which has now stopped bleeding so much for the second time, lol. So, might as well wait for the appointment now.
But I'm wondering if I should have visited a doctor sooner, like in an urgent care or something, because I'm struggling to catch up on hydration and electrolytes lately. I mean, I constantly feel like I'm dying of thirst, neurologist is waiting to check on diabetes insipidus or whatever it's called until I get insurance to help cover costs.
I have a video of the blood just gushing out to the point of filling a (small) cup though, so now that I'm thinking better this week (maybe) I'm a bit shocked the doctor didn't recommend visiting somewhere more.... Uh, urgent.
I'm Fine but I've been waaaay more thirsty and no matter how much I drink, even of Pedialyte (I'm not chugging it, don't worry), I'm still peeing dark most of the day, and still eating pinches of salt like some kind of lizard on calcium.
It's mostly just an inconvenience at this point, obviously I am fine.
Honestly, the most upsetting thing to me, and probably why I didn't react to the bleeding properly, was (1) blood in an area that previously received trauma and (2) the absolute body horror of having a vagina as a man and (3) that I could SEE the damage on it when it had slightly less previously, which felt disturbing
But now I'm laughing about it like it's funny, probably because it kind of is at this point. Because, I mean, it's weird that bodies will just change because of things for no reason. I was thinking of the guy after the car accident standing there on the phone with his insurance company, looking mildly annoyed in his bloody T-shirt, but he was using his only hand to hold the phone and his phone to push the buttons, and his other arm was still in the truck but he, the rest of him, was otherwise unscathed. I remember feeling like he was annoyed because I was staring, rather than because he had lost his arm and was already having to adjust, and yet he was just standing there and didn't seem to just be bleeding out.
But the stump kept moving anyway and there was too much red liquid on it to really see the individual muscles, but because of studies I kind of knew which ones were which and felt weirdly fascinated. And my mom was like, "I just want to give him a hug," and I said back, "He seems to be adjusting okay," not knowing about grief and shock yet.
And also just being like him, I feel like. I just go with the flow, mostly. Can't say I'd become that numb at losing an arm, but as an autistic/AuDHD person I related hard to the, "Oh, okay, so this is happening now; do I really have to emotionally grieve this before I move on?" mentality.
And I told my mom that maybe they'd reattach his arm, but he's NOT his arm and one day maybe he'd get a prosthetic, worst case scenario.
He ended up being really nice but I haven't seen him since then. All I remember was his accent and asking him where he was from, someone telling me that he probably didn't want to talk right now, and then him telling me what country he was born in and how he ended up in the United States, but I can't remember which country he was from for the life of me. I want to say India but I don't know, Asian.
But anyway, that's somehow become a weird thing for me -- body horror in general because I refused to be anxious about the middle part. That is, my brain just wants to go from event a, then skip b, c, d, then end up at e or beyond where it's already happened and the grieving emotions were "useless" because they didn't do anything but make me feel upset. Meanwhile, I already knew logically my actual vagina WAS a vagina and WAS torn up and bleeding heavily.
So, why go to a doctor about it, anyway? Why worry? At some point, maybe 3 days from now, it'll be done, and I'll laugh about it.
Hmm, feels like avoidance. It's definitely not that I didn't have empathy for that man, but I HATE giving myself empathy, and get uncomfortable when others show me empathy, because it doesn't MATTER, right?
If my arm popped off right now like a lego and I folded it up like a blanket and put it in a storage box for later, but couldn't attach it back, what would empathy DO for me?
But if it were YOU, and you folded up just your hand to put away and lost it, and you showed that you needed someone to care, or I felt like you MIGHT. You could be my worst enemy and I'd still stand there and help you grieve. Even though I know logically you don't have a hand and I don't need to grieve your hand.
If that makes sense?
On the other hand, if someone accidentally stepped on my cat and made him 2-dimensional (the reason I can't let him outside, he thinks being FLAT by tire would allow him to slip under any door in the house and get into EVERYTHING), I'd want to tell people I was sad. I'd never be over it because the cat is family to me. But I'd expect empathy? I guess?
Though, after a while I guess it would upset me. I'm not sure.
Anyway, glad the bleeding has stopped. It's funny now tho lol -- not horrible if it is what it is, I guess?
Something feels off after saying all that. Maybe I'm not quite all there today
Doesn't really align with who I am usually, I guess? Can't quite place it. Maybe I'm just not finished processing that it made me feel gross, weird, and unmanly. And it got lumped in by my brain to the man who lost his arm, because....? Because he didn't show ME he was frightened? Because I liked the way he almost seemed like it was a regular Tuesday?
The man from Guatemala who tried to end his life while at work in construction by jumping off the top of the building, landing on the road, the getting hit by a car -- but then SURVIVED and he practiced his English while I practiced my Spanish. It kind of feels like that. Where I didn't know the right words to tell him he deserves to live and I understood how he felt and was happy he survived, even if the hospital made him sit in a wheelchair and his wife was leaving him and his two daughters lived with her in Guatemala and not here where he was stuck. And he didn't know the right words for almost anything, so at the same time I was the one translating for him when the free translator went home at 6pm.
That sort of odd, disconnected feeling of being empathetic and knowing it matters, but you can't DO anything about it? Maybe?
The fact that he could tell me all that, in simple Spanish a child would understand, and then all I could really says was "soy feliz que está aquí" like we were already on the other side, but he was banned from showering in the hospital NOW because of all of stitches?
What is that feeling, anyway?
By the way, hope y'all have a happy new year :D!!!
Oh, also -- I made a new group chat for family and was very worried I was using it too much and annoying people, but now everyone is chatting on it for fun instead of just for alerts, and at first THAT made me nervous? But yeah it didn't matter lol
I hope you get the bleeding sorted out. Been dealing with non-stop bleeding over here too (almost three months ). I wasn’t sure if yours was trauma-based or hormone-based? For trauma-based bleeding.. yarrow tincture every hour might help. For hormone-based (pretty sure that’s not happening for you because you’re not doing the estrogen-progesterone party anymore?) Shepherds Purse tincture seems to be a miracle. Anyway, hope you can talk to a provider soon. The thirst thing seems like it could be a big deal.