primordialness - Tumblr blog

[primordialness]

Well. The patches weren't quick enough. The therapist was not the right fit, and in the five and a half WEEK gap between therapists... the levees kinda broke.

Ope.

I know my truth. I know I have triggers I am still discovering. I know I have a problem with not knowing how to walk away from people and relationships before things blow up. I know I'm repeating trauma cycles.

And I know that when I'm at my best--when I feel safe and supported--I am a masterpiece.

I haven't been one lately. But now that I have better diagnostic support, I can get better therapeutic support.

(And YES, also better meds, but that's not what went wrong here.)

(And for the record, neither is alcohol. I've cut back a lot. No one sees that, but that's fine. I know my truth.)

I know I still have friends--bridges I am trying not to burn. So when I find a new space and make it feel safe and mine and HOME... I will be starting over from a little further ahead than last time.

And maybe that's all I can ask for--that every time this breaks, it still leaves a little bit more behind each time that I can build from.

I give myself grace, because climbing my way out of hell is fucking hard. I don't ask it of others; they can make their own choices. I know I'm doing my best, and I know my best can be better. She's a little better every day.

For some, that's not enough. For most people, I'm too much. For me, though... I'm doing alright. My best isn't too bad. I'm gonna be alright.

I knew the only way I'd make it in a new city was with therapy. I was completely isolated before this. I shut myself entirely away because I didn't know how to People. I knew I needed to commit to Peopling anyway, and I knew it would be difficult.

I didn't avoid that reality at all. I applied for health insurance in the first week, but there was mail fuckery. I got a job with health insurance in April, but didn't actually get to use that health insurance until June, so didn't get therapy until July, and now I'm in a 3-week purgatory between appointments.

It's so hard to keep the levees from breaking. I have executive dysfunction problems at work combined with interpersonal problems, combined with triggers I really didn't expect. I had one (1) relationship that triggered enough bad shit that I know I can't date again until I work through it. I have close friend problems, household problems... the family problems just sit quietly in the background for now... and it honestly gets more difficult every day. And I still don't even know if this therapist will be a good fit.

I know that I am consistently feeling better and more hopeful about my life than I ever have before. I know my quality of life is so much better than a year ago.

Still. The water is pushing, the cracks are forming, and I am just hoping I can patch myself up quickly enough.

[primordialness]

Give me a map of the midwest how you imagine it, and don't just use state lines, show me how you think the cultural area of the midwest actually exists in the US

[primordialness]

Send me to Mars with party supplies before next august 5th

[primordialness]

Now I wanna go set up a bunch of hammocks in the woods to make bears happy

Source

[primordialness]

New Star Trek headcanon just dropped: Geordi and data regularly hang out in the dark and Geordi sometimes forgets that people need light to see

[primordialness]

Your daily dose of cat memes

[primordialness]

To the Next One (Or: Rodents)

Capybaras and Porcupines are two of the biggest types of rodents.

I love capybara. My first gay date with a femme-presenting person was to pet a capybara, and I freaked out. There's video. I just kept saying "oh my god" while giggling.

There were porcupines there, too, around the corner--the Old World type, I think--but of course, petting them was not recommended. I'm becoming friends with another femme-presenting person who works in a zoo and keeps porcupine quills in her purse all the time, to make friends with; my cousin stabbed herself in the hand with one. Not very pettable.

Capybaras are chill dudes. They like taking yuzu baths and being friends with every other animal--even pelicans, despite that pelicans frequently try to swallow their heads.

Porcupines... have quills.

I want to be a capybara. I like baths, though I don't get them much these days. I would like to make many different types of unique, good, chill friends.

But I am a porcupine, and I hate my quills.

They stay put most of the time these days--so much more often than they used to. I need you to know and believe that about me. I have come to realize when they've been activated a little after the fact, a little after the harm. I am responsible for my worst moments... but I know they don't define me. Someday soon, I hope I will realize it as it's happening so that I can back down, smooth my quills, soothe my body, tend to my soul. Soon after that, I hope I can realize it before my quills so much as quiver.

I want to be a capybara. I want someone to be able to stroke my hair--to revel in it, even. I want people to be excited to be my friend and chill with me.

And I can keep a few quills around. It's not good to let pelicans swallow your head, or to let the Catholic Church decide you're a fish. I still need to defend myself and others.

But not like this. Not like this.

[primordialness]

I need everyone to know that the ship Götheborg, the world's largest ocean-going wooden sailing ship, answered a distress call the other day.

Imagine waiting for the coast guard or whatever to show up and instead a replica of 18th century merchant ship pulls up and tows you to the coast.

[primordialness]

I'm rarely an impulsive person--but I do have an impulsive part of me, somewhere. In January, she decided we were fed up staying still and it was time to move out in six weeks.

Six weeks is not a lot of time to pack your life up. But it's so much time to doubt whether or not you should.

My soon-to-be ex-husband was always my fallback. He saved me from living with my parents. He was soft, warm, and almost always there when I needed him. Sure, he cheated on me all the time and in the long term, that was destroying me... but in the short term, things were easy and good and fun. Why would I leave that?

There was no use arguing with the part of me that craved his false safety. Other parts had tried convincing her for a decade, but she couldn't break that bond.

So instead, my impulsive part doubled down: she told everyone we were moving. She told clients and sub-clients, family and friends, posted about it in Discord servers. When we had a week left, of course the part of me that longed for him wanted to call off the whole thing... but the shame of having given up again would have been unbearable.

I'd let the longing part take a backseat for a bit while the impulsive part did what she had to do to get us out. And she's definitely made some choices that I regret now that I'm on the other side of them.

I owe my cousin everything for taking me in and letting me sleep on their couch for a couple of months. Planning to get out only worked because I had somewhere to go.

But I owe my impulsive side a lot, too. She did what she had to do to get us out. We are out. I am out. There's a part of me that misses him deeply, but I am finally, finally out.

[primordialness]

[primordialness]

you know what? fuck you. *unionizes your salt*

[primordialness]

Ask not for whom the gurdy hurds. It hurds for thee.

[primordialness]

I knew the only way I'd make it in a new city was with therapy. I was completely isolated before this. I shut myself entirely away because I didn't know how to People. I knew I needed to commit to Peopling anyway, and I knew it would be difficult.

I didn't avoid that reality at all. I applied for health insurance in the first week, but there was mail fuckery. I got a job with health insurance in April, but didn't actually get to use that health insurance until June, so didn't get therapy until July, and now I'm in a 3-week purgatory between appointments.

It's so hard to keep the levees from breaking. I have executive dysfunction problems at work combined with interpersonal problems, combined with triggers I really didn't expect. I had one (1) relationship that triggered enough bad shit that I know I can't date again until I work through it. I have close friend problems, household problems... the family problems just sit quietly in the background for now... and it honestly gets more difficult every day. And I still don't even know if this therapist will be a good fit.

I know that I am consistently feeling better and more hopeful about my life than I ever have before. I know my quality of life is so much better than a year ago.

Still. The water is pushing, the cracks are forming, and I am just hoping I can patch myself up quickly enough.

[primordialness]

A post from March 3, 2023

(I know Tumblr doesn't like timestamps because everything is eternally recurring here but whatever)

I fucking hate divorce laws.

In North Carolina, you have to be living apart in order to be considered legally separated. There isn't a form or anything-- just living apart. I couldn't afford to move out for a year and a half after telling him it was over, so we were still legally married. And in NC, you need to maintain legal separation (AKA live apart) for a *year* before you can file for divorce. There are no exceptions for abuse, etc.

In Minnesota, you can get a divorce while still living together, but the process to get a legal separation is a form that is just as involved and expensive as getting a divorce. Also, you need to have been a Minnesota resident for six months to file for a divorce.

What does that mean for me? Per the laws of North Carolina, my husband is legally separated from me--but if I'd stayed in North Carolina, I'd have had to wait a year to divorce him.

Per the laws of Minnesota, I am not legally separated from my husband. I either have to fill out the legal separation form and pay that money now and then do it again in six months, or I have to wait six more months in marriage limbo. (I knew about the six months thing before moving here--not the legal separation thing.)

He is the one who keeps the apartment and the pets. I am the one who moved 1,000 miles away and needs to buy snow tires with a TAX RETURN THAT WON'T GIVE ME UPDATES to escape him. He has health insurance already. I need health insurance, and if I put that I am legally separated on that form, it could be denied, because it is only half true. He keeps his doctors, his bills, his address. All of that has changed for me, and when I get a job and my own place, it may change again.

Over the next six months, every time I fill out a form and say I am separated from my husband, they can question that if they so choose, and they can doubt whether my husband and I are actually separated.

He is the one who ruined my life. How much longer am I going to have to pay for it?

---

(A brief update: it's now July 2023, and I have one month left in Marriage Purgatory.)

[primordialness]

broccoli and cheddar just belong together like idk what to tell you they are literally lovers. girlfriends. kissing with tongue. going on brunch double dates with their besties spinach and feta, who are also girlfriends.

[primordialness]

broccoli and cheddar just belong together like idk what to tell you they are literally lovers. girlfriends. kissing with tongue. going on brunch double dates with their besties spinach and feta, who are also girlfriends.

[primordialness]