zetasyanthis: (Default)
This one might be a bit disjointed. I've been trying to write the past few weeks, but my energy levels just haven't been there. Maybe it's the medication (Zoloft). Maybe it's the phone call from my sister last week. I just don't know. Whatever it is, I've been nowhere near 100% for a while.

Since I need to write, but am not sure what to write about, I'm just going to start with a bit of a status update. The last few weeks have been rough. I started deep DNMS therapy shortly after my last post, and while it's really helpful, reaching back to comfort my earlier self is a hell of an energy drain. In fact, the first session, combined with an event that happened shortly thereafter (~3 hours or so) knocked me out of commission for a good week and a half. :/

I'm going to try and talk about the therapy a little bit here, but I need to acknowledge, at least in a little detail, the aforementioned event, because it's had a profound effect on my own mental state the last couple weeks. I've learned a lot about the true depth and power of depression and anxiety in the last year, but never more so in the depths of my own mind last October. On that night a few Thursdays ago, I learned a different lesson along the same lines as I spent more than two hours trying to talk a friend down from committing suicide. I learned what it meant to fail. I learned what it meant to fail another, to fail myself, and what will happen if we fail each other.

While she survived the night, I had no way to know she would when she finally disappeared on me. As I laid there, texts going unanswered, I finally collapsed, energy levels flat-lining after far too much energy expenditure in one short span of hours. I awakened to find her alive, and I am eternally grateful for that, but I am scared now. Scared for all of us. :S We have got to do something about the hate and violence directed towards us. We have got to do something about the way we teach children that they are broken in so many ways. And maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to teach everyone else that they can be safe and happy along the way. >.<

This cannot happen any more. We have got to help on another, to help ourselves, and to reach out to those in need. The next few months, and perhaps even years, may be terrible ones, but we can make it through this. We must. We have to teach the rest.

...I guess I didn't talk about therapy, but that's okay. Maybe next time. :S
zetasyanthis: (Default)
There are days that change lives.  Some changes are for the better, others are for the worse. I'll be damned if I'm going to let the latter happen on my watch.

I saw a friend break tonight. I saw a friend break, and by the time I saw it, it was too late to do anything about it. I don't even know what to describe what I'm feeling right now, the mix of grief and disbelief pulling my own self down, desperate to find a way to cling to the cliff edge, to throw a lifeline down and do anything I can. This journal is for him.

There are times in a person's life where they are not at their best.  That goes for all of us, and *especially* those of us who are by nature a little bit different. Sometimes it's just a bit of frustration at work. Other days it can be a news story that sets us on edge, making us a little more likely to lash out, and a little more likely to reinforce our armor against the world that hurts so badly to look at. On worse days still, we fall down, and hate our world, our leaders, and even ourselves for failing as miserably as we do on a regular basis. On those days, our armor seems to desert us, leaving us open to all manner of pain we thought ourselves safe from. On those days, we can be mortally wounded.

Here's a secret: We. All. Fail.

I saw a friend break tonight because someone else couldn't see past their armor. Funny, people seem to forget that armor comes with a visor that restricts your ability to see. When you can't see, you can't understand, and when you can't understand, you can hurt someone with words that you expect to bounce right off their armor. After all, yours protects you, right? No. Not nearly.

Their armor may not protect them from the same things yours does. Your armor may not protect *you* from the things theirs protects them from. Yet both of yours blind you from seeing the particular problems you've shielded yourself from. You have no problem with anxiety because you've fortified yourself? That means you can't see the gaping hole in their armor that you just gut-punched without meaning to. The hole in your armor that makes you weep for days? They didn't mean to stomp on that either. They just didn't see it. They couldn't.

So here's the thing... That armor you're wearing? You need to start losing it. A bit a time, here and there, you need to drop the plating, the greaves, the goofy headdress with far too many I-won-an-argument-see-how-smart-I-am feathers. That's not how you have a functional relationship with people. It's certainly not how you connect with them, on a level of friendship, or anything else.

When they're reaching out for help, from any quarter, it is *NOT THE TIME* for your arguments to continue. It is *NOT THE TIME* to make pedantic points and "win" your chess match with a beaten opponent you hardly understand. You have to rip the fucking blinders off and LISTEN to the other person. Listen to WHY they're saying what they're saying. Listen to *what brought them to this moment*, before you jump down their throat.

If these thoughts, or the pain behind this scares the everliving hell out of you, it should.  We are human fucking beings, and we'd better start acting like it.  Your fucking move.


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Zeta Syanthis

September 2017



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