#so you don't actually have to set a boundary way farther out than is necessary as a precautionary defensive measure

[aeide-thea]

anyway totally apropos of nothing i'm just thinking abt like. i really hate DNIs that are—i mean, i could've stopped there, i really hate DNIs period, i think they're performative and useless and naive, but. i really hate DNIs that use identity as a shorthand for the (mis)behavior the poster expects from people of that identity

like there's a Respected Butch Blogger on here who years ago posted something about a man at a bus stop, idk, attempting to strike up a conversation/hit on her*, something in that line, and made some comment to the effect of like, look at me, i'm obviously a butch dyke, he should've known i wasn't available to him! and i thought at the time, and still think now—the problem here was the creepiness/entitlement of this man's behavior! nobody should be chatting anyone up at a bus stop or grocery store (real example from a past stage of my own life 😞) or other practical public venue where like‚ they're just trying to do their thing and get home! but framing the problem as instead being about, essentially, an IRL failure to respect an implicit DNI, as though someone who presented differently would've been fair game for predatory treatment—i hated that then and i hate it now

[ultimately of course it's like. people sometimes frame things in shitty ways on their perblogs when they're upset and it's good to cut them a little slack abt that... but also like. in venting veritas]

and i just like. this is a disconnected patchy sort of post but you just see people going up these ladders that are like 'i assume Men are looking at me and having Gross Disrespectful Fantasies abt me in their heads and so i don't even want them clicking a silent heart on my posts'

and ultimately everyone's entitled to set whatever boundaries they like! but it just feels to me like. tbh you're spooling out a whole Gross Fantasy of yr own abt Men when like. instead you could just set a boundary about what kinds of comments are welcome. and even from whom! but like. why are we collapsing Man into Person Who's Inevitably Gonna Behave Invasively and Disrespectfully. like when the traditional model of masculinity also says that but with an accompanying smirky thumbs-up, and then you're saying that with a thumbs-down... idk. just like. where's the vision of a better world. bc like. i thought that was actually what we were trying to open the door for, personally!

ultimately i guess it's just like, our approaches are not compatible and i shd be grateful 2 their DNIs for making that clear to me, but. i really don't see how the master's tools (framing identity as shorthand for/inevitable predictor of undesirable behavior) ever dismantle the master's house (kyriarchy)

[lolosrollercoaster]

Grief is fcking weird.

TW: DEATH, GRIEF, MENTAL HEALTH ETC (take all the TW and run away from this now, I rambled and went to it all and the last thing I want is for this to trigger someone. I only wrote this to express myself not to hurt anyone with my pain). Welp. Let me just start this off by saying - If anyone ever finds this - It's 7:51am and I haven't slept a wink... it's also the 1yr anniversary of the death of my favourite person... which is probably why I haven't slept a wink. So if this gets super incoherent then let it - because I just need to ramble for a moment. I tend to prefer creative writing to this blog/letter/diary type of style, and man is that probably why I suck at dealing with certain things (read: most things). In fact its probably one of the reasons why I've been so fucking frozen in time for almost 3 years, guess all the years of overthinking amplified and brought things to a complete halt. so yup - I've been completely stuck. And there hasn't been enough media, enough imagination or creativity etc to get me to do anything. Was it the pandemic? was it my penchant for overindulgence in all of it that finally stopped working as a coping mechanism and became one of the beams that now holds me down joining the rest of my collapsed psyche that now pin me to the ground? honestly who knows - but maybe I'll address that in another post- because today is about one issue, and that is GRIEF. what a fun little word - and yet so bad at encompassing what it can mean. I mean I feel like we're honestly just starting to get each other despite the fact that I think I've had it in my bag all these years. And man can it mean so much even in the same context if it's with different people? like you think you know what to expect but really (trust me) you don't. I feel like it should be in the human starter kit - the manual - that you absolutely don't know anyone until you've seen them grieve...or even worse- had to grieve alongside them. Like the fact that you never have felt closer yet farther from those people that share this common loss. Oof - if you had told me the whole "anger" part could mean "you're never speaking to this B*tch again" and part of it is mostly because you're angry on the behalf of someone who is already gone or because they made you bring that negative energy to them during their last few hours? I would've thought you were exaggerating. But nope - here I am, 365 days later still thinking - ONE DAY - I will let this person know how fucked up they are- but not today - because the person who died was my abuelita, and the b*tch is my tia - and honestly I can just see my abuelita being mad at me for being mad at my tia. Actually that's a lie - my abuelita could hold grudges when necessary, but she never got mad at me - I think she'd be more disappointed which is somehow worse. But see, anger, grief, rage? they make no sense. Because here I am still pissed af at my tia, a whole year later, and still I haven't called her a b*tch to her face - because my dead abuelita wouldn't like it if I said it. Even if she was actually being a b*tch ( that being said I'm human - so of course I've vented to everyone I know and gotten reassured) and everything she did prior to my abuelita's passing was cruel, stupid, wrong, and absolutely not ok (glad I can at least say that with certainty).

But anyways - Grief is cruel - and aloof, and odd. Grief has pulled me further from my mom than closer to her. More resentful. And it's funny because it's like it's brought out every quality I know my Abuelita would not want out of me. Honestly I might be in my villain era (or at least it feels that way - since I've decided to be strong and set boundaries - and enforced them... in a family where boundaries are non-existent... I might as well be).

But see the grief of her death came at me at the worst possible time. I know, come on universe? can't you check my calendar before you set me up for another one of these eternal redirections/world flipping moment/life "lessons" - and can we please discuss a maximum quota per decade? or at this point per year? I don't think I have the bandwidth for anything else at this point. (please don't take me typing that as a taunt or invitation! I'm good, I swear!)

You see, for some reason I guess the universe decided 2022 ( a year of my favourite numbers) was meant to be my most tested year yet - so much so that it started off with a serious accident for my dad, which happened on the day I was home after quitting the job from hell, on the first month of the year and didn't truly let up from there. By the 3rd week of 2022 I was catatonic - see, I guess 2 can play at that game and my brain+body+soul all collectively decided I needed a time out... so I just clocked out. for a month (?) I still cant tell you. but I guess I had what y'all call a little mental/nervous breakdown? ... anyways by march I was talking again, so I guess that's good - I mean at least basic communication, I wouldn't say I was out in the world, nope that took some more therapy, and A LOT of convincing from pretty much anyone who could try. And of course, given that I was bed bound, and not actively taking care of myself everything afterwards felt pretty much exactly how you'd expect it. Which was incredibly demoralizing - feeling like a zombie, unsure as to why you're alive to find that what little you appreciated about yourself is also not in shape atm - had to cut off all my hair, so that was fun... then more little issues came up, dental problems, and health problems, etc. Oh and on top of it all I had finally caved and filled one of those little mental health assessments (obviously had to lol I had stopped functioning- that was probably not a good indicator). And that led to seeing how much stigma still exists in the medical field for patients. Truly loved that. (I've worked on my mental heath for years but never fully put it all on "paper" fearing the stigma. preferring to have it be known but not written down for fear of how it could affect me - and unfortunately not even 6months later I got to experience it - gotta say it was also lk just the full meal: super fun & humiliating, y'know? even worse than what my overthinking brain had dreamt up so 11/10! great job to all involved!) But anyways, grief! that was also something I gained from my mental breakdown! who would've thought! ... definitely not me!

so anyways, I'm unemployed, living @ my parents house - parent's who definitely don't know how to deal with my mental health, they didn't know for the first decade, maybe its too much for me to expect them to know now going into the 2nd one 🤣 but yeah - idk they somehow kept me alive and here, so they definitely did something right. I gotta give props there! this is one crisis they didn't purposely start and stuck through to the end and provided what I actually needed at the time so 🎉 ( I know I sound like an asshole, but this whole mental breakdown and previous # of mental shithole years have provided me with an insane amount of introspection and reflection on my childhood which... surprisingly 🙄... didn't give me less to be angry about but more 🎉 I'm still unraveling it all, but I've definitely got enough content to keep a therapist employed for a while.) WHICH is a fun next point... access to mental health services ... why is is so fucking hard? man also so expensive when you're employed, even if you live in a country with "universal healthcare". The therapist my mom helped me get with (yay mom!) was with a service that didn't charge me too much, based on a sliding scale, and well I was unemployed and mentally broken, so income was low (thanks for 2021 Lolo for keeping some savings) so at least I could afford it ish but it turns out they worked based on "goals" and my goal in March was to get up from my bed... and hopefully make it outside my room, then eventually outside my door to actually breathe non-recycled air... maybe actually see some other human beings outside of the ones that live with me (or see them more often at least!) eventually be sort of a functioning human again.

And then my teeth got fucked and my abuelita was sick all at once - and my family is not in this country, so we thought ok - lets fly home (10+hrs air journey)... and also lets bring my 13yr old pupper - because my abuelita loved her, and this might be her last chance to go home and see that fam. Also she has separation anxiety and all 3 of us were going (yeah I'm also an only child, unless you count the pupper as my sibling, which sometimes we do). So anyways - here we go - Four anxiety ridden overthinkers on a sad journey to see their fam - it was as insane as it probably sounds - my mom thinking about her mom, in denial of the situation, and also forgetting she had promised to take responsibility for the puppers, me trying not to break down again bc ppl, airports, anxious/stressful parents who always freak out during travel and turn to you for calmness but now you're the stressed one - overwhelmed pup bc its a long ass air journey and she doesn't love being confined to a carrier and would rather be on our laps or roaming the cabin.... yup. Also I needed a root canal - so I was in PAIN. But my tia is in dentistry and it would be a much better job + price back home anyways so it was worth the craziness.

And then I got home - and I saw her. And I lost it. And my dad lost it and that's also when I knew ok well we're fucked. Because my mom is the one that had kept it together this year - she was the one who had to care for us and now it was her rock who was about to leave her. But my mom was in DENIAL. See my mom believes in miracles, but to the point where she expects them to happen regardless of reality and if there's one thing she was never going to do was give up hope in this particular case. But that also meant we had absolutely no idea how it would hit her once it happened - and as much as my abuelita and my mom taught me to believe in miracles, I unfortunately couldn't see one here. See life beat me into becoming a realist, and I worked in healthcare for a while too so there was only so much my brain would allow me to deny or have any type of hope.

Hell, I thought I would be able to handle it better because I'd seen death now more than once. But nothing prepares you to loose your favourite person, specially not when they're suffering and slowly withering away. And I think that's what pisses me off the most still. I held the hands of strangers, I sat with them through their worst times, their last few days. But from the moment I saw her - I knew I couldn't. And in some act of bravery, or dumbfuckery - I did it again - I talked my brain into compartmentalizing it, into rationalizing it, into ensuring I would be present for her. I don't regret that, don't get me wrong - I would hate myself more if I had walked away that first day and never gone back. But in shutting myself off from my feelings regarding it - in minimizing it - because I just told myself "how could I do this for strangers and not for her?" I shut myself down emotionally enough to survive it, but I think it might come back to kill me later.

You see, I make myself useful - because I was taught that's what I should do. so I did. I helped wherever I could, I drew knowledge when I needed it from people who had it, I became the voice of reason when necessary. I organized and learned all I could about what she was going through, I researched what it could all mean. That was the hardest- knowing she was like this because she fell through the cracks of a broken healthcare system. I helped by learning and arming myself with what I could to fight for her, to do what I could to make things better, or less painful for her if possible. But it still didn't feel like enough (and yet it all felt like way more than too much). And then we finally had to bring her into a facility - you see my grandfather was also a victim of the healthcare system - in his case a mistaken dose of a medication not meant for him meant instead of going home that day... he went to a funeral home instead. So of course my family, my mom, my abuelita all feared ending up in a situation like that again. She never wanted to die in a hospital, but even in her pain I think she did it because she didn't want us to deal with what it would entail for her to die at home. So she agreed and asked to be taken to the hospital. And to make it about me again - "everything happens for a reason" is a sentence I hope to never hear again because what do you mean the one they sent us to was the one I was born in (not the usual hospital she would've been sent to, but that one was too full so they sent us to my birthplace) and in that same building 48hrs later after being admitted almost to the minute - she took her last breath ....( just 2months and 1 day before my 26th birthday) So 25yrs, and 10 months after I took my first one in that same building. I now know 2 dates/events to the minute.

my birth and her death.

I'm not angry about that - I'm just confused but not mad - I just still don't understand the meaning of it all if it is supposed to have one. I do remember the last ~14hrs of her life. Since I was the one who was by her side for most of them. So much for that schedule I made (she needed to have someone with her at all times), some would've thought I made it on purpose to get her all to myself one last time. And I don't think I regret a single minute of it -even if it was one of the most painful nights of my life. if not THE most painful. I remember my mom coming to take over and my abuelita looking like she was doing better - like she was giving me permission to go - but I didn't, because I still had stuff to do, I was doing some paperwork for her, and then trying to get an extra visiting pass for my cousin, and then, and then... and then... I found the chapel - by chance, took a wrong turn ended up in that hallway. (you should know, my abuelita was one devoted woman, and the only reason I still had some faith in all of that - but she never pushed, she wasn't a fanatic, she just had true pure faith and it was so pure she did witness miracles and had them happen to her and around her and all of us.) And I sat down and I prayed. I hadn't done that in years. but I did - and I just said one thing: "if its her time, and that time is now - then don't let me or my connection to this hospital be what holds her here. I don't want to be the reason she suffers, I don't want to be what's holding her here if it's her time. I'll figure it out, I'll deal with it all, just please don't let her suffer any more. She doesn't deserve that" And 30 min later she was gone.

My mom held her hand in the end. I saw her face because of course I had to come back for something I forgot and I walked in as she was taking what I now know were her last breaths. I didn't run to her - I'd said my goodbyes in a way when I switched with my mom - I ran to switch with my cousin who was outside so she could go in and say hers.

she didn't make it.

I barely walked the 5 steps outside to my dog's carrier (who was there waiting for me as we exchanged) before my mom called only saying"she's gone" and I dropped.

if you asked me what happened after that I'd tell you flashes of it. I wailed. my dog wailed. I still feel guilty for that - she saw me drop and probably thought I'd been shot or something.

** Oh yeah I forgot to mention we had to extend our trip but my dad couldn't stay bc of work so he had to go home, and it was now just my mom, my dog and I (with the rest of our extended family of course). I eventually managed to start calling ppl - because right - we're the ones that know. my phone was at 16% and dying fast. I'd forgotten to charge it the night before, more focused on her care and not messing any of it up. I remember calling my cuz and just wailing "she's dead" then "sorry gotta hang up and call the others, my phone is at 15%" before hanging up. Still glad she doesn't hate me for that.

my dog stopped breathing and her tongue went purple/blue for a second on the taxi back to her home. we don't know what it was - grief, anxiety, the hand sanitizer my baby cousin was sniffing to keep from throwing up. it was only a second but my life flashed before my eyes again and I somehow got her back with some type of crazy cpr. My mom only found this out a few days ago - she was in the hospital with the body arranging it all. I helped pick out an outfit for her to be put into.

I helped my 19yr old cousin who lives where we live get plane tickets and helped her break the news to her mom (my tia) who was on holiday in Europe... they were supposed to come see her on Oct 4th, but they didn't make it in time. I heard their flight home kept getting delayed and she passed out in the airport.

I had nothing to wear - not that it mattered -but at one point they offered I could wear a set of her shoes and it kinda felt wrong - like why would I wear her own shoes to her funeral. it just felt wrong.

her funeral turned into 4 days of viewing - waiting for my poor cousin and tia to arrive because we couldn't get them there any faster. I don't know if it made it easer or harder to delay it. I stopped sleeping the moment she went into the hospital and didn't start again until ....still unsure. maybe a week after? when exhaustion took me out. I helped organize the funeral, deal with them trying to overcharge us, informing ppl, etc. I even managed to get her interred where she wanted her final resting place to be before our flight back (which when we'd managed to push it we'd changed our return date to Oct 15). I pushed to make it happen so my mom and I could leave knowing she was finally where she had to be. I stopped crying maybe 2 days after she died? ... I only cried 3 more times after. one being when I was a pallbearer.

My mom went... I want to say insane but that feels mean. She definitely did not handle it well, and absolutely pissed ppl off, also said some horrible things that she didn't take back - and hasn't taken back to this day.

I can't say how I was, but I do know I wasn't that bad? I think I spent more time ensuring my relatives saw me as an adult and separate from her so I wouldn't loose relationships than I did trying to offend ppl for no reason, so that was a win. and as far as I know I haven't been blocked by anyone yet - so clearly I did something ok.

I wish my dad could've come but with his health scares + being 70 + having done the journey there and back already it kinda made sense as to why he couldn't - rationally I know that. Irrationally I'm still mad I was left to deal with my mom on my own.

we got back and halloween no longer felt joyous (it was my favourite holiday). I still dressed up for her because she loved that. Apparently she always told my baby cousin that Aurora from tangled reminded her of me so I dressed up as her and watched the movie again and cried it out with my parents.

My dog survived the journey home and actually is now more of a fan of airplanes - we survived somehow.

(my biggest fear was my abuelita and dog dying at the same time, leading to my mom either dying or breaking down like I did and then me having to deal with it all on my own practically. I was sure I would not survive that.)

I tried to talk to the therapist I'd been seeing, he told me I had to reapply to the program... because its goal based, and when he took me on the goal was to get up from bed and leave my house. which I had. Grief however was a different goal and I had run out of appointments for this session set.

I stopped going to therapy.

**somewhere around here was when I had my first stigma filled experience with a GP I went to for a health problem I had. My birthday sucked. despite a bit of a time difference - my abuelita was always the first call I'd get that day. I didn't have enough time to prepare for that one since it happened so soon after. I decided to make my birthday nonexistent. I felt I had nothing to be thankful for and I definitely had nothing to celebrate. I didn't even feel like myself.

I got a job, it was supposed to be a good one. I was excited. I would start it in the new year.

Christmas - sucked. It is(was?) my mom and abuelita's favourite holiday. Not last year. We didn't even put up a tree.

New Years Eve felt like more lk YOUR YEARS GRIEF. I rang in 2023 half conscious as the absolute train wreck of a year finally hit me - and I could not stop crying or being angry or passing out from crying so hard then waking up again to be annoyed again.

And that's when it hit me I had two types of grief.

I'd completely lost myself.

and

I'd lost my true North Star.

see the one thing that questionable therapist got right was that I'd become such terrible people pleaser my entire identity crisis was happening because of it and it had helped push me into that freaking mental breakdown. I had no sense of self bc I would make myself whatever or whoever I needed to be to fit into where I needed to fit. so much so that now I had no idea what part of any of it was actually me and what was just me adapting to survive.

fun, eh?

And then my favourite person, the centre of the most joyful perfect memory in my mind - died. aka the unthinkable.

And now here I am 365 days later - with a fuckton of unfelt grief because I just COMPARTMENTALIZED IT LIKE A PRO. To a concerning degree according to just about everyone who knows me or asks about it. I mean I can't talk about it, or her. I can't read things about grandparents, or death, I definitely have almost broken down at seeing numbers like 82 (her age) anywhere. But nope, I somehow kick it back - shut it down. it almost feels like when you're about to sneeze and then you just don't? y'know that feeling? that's the closest I can compare it to. My eyes start to fill with tears and then suddenly they're dry as a desert and <I'M FINE> (read that like Ross in that one scene in friends). Anyways what's happened in the rest of those 365 days? had a job, left a job (toxic environment - so yay!) put some of that money in savings, spent the other. fought a lot with my mom. Went home by myself this time - took cuz who's my fav adult and also the one who took care of my abuelita all throughout that last year on a much deserved vacay with the liquidated vacation days I got *thank god for our birth country's currency being devalued. I feel terrible about it for my people but since I don't live there it makes it easier to do things like that one - visited Abuelita for Mother's Day. didn't cry. So clearly still repressed af.

but what's new.

Saw Beyonce at the Renaissance Tour with my friends- of course we got tickets back in February so I only realized months later that it was on my abuelita's birthday - but hey - Virgo's groove almost got me to cry in her honour since Bey asked all her Virgo's to get up and dance.

Saw a couple of plays. (Mom got a volunteer gig there and can get me tickets, also she thinks it's a bonding thing. it is kind of fun as long as it's not forced.)

Tried to challenge myself to reading 200 books - pretty sure I've only read 3 so far. BUT I'm trying and that's what matters, right?

also there's a fucking recession apparently? and finding a job is SO FUCKING HARD. that I'm spiralling harder than before. it's been fun - I'm so unmotivated and idk how to fix it. I'm back to hermiting tbh. Also my financial anxiety is at an ALL TIME HIGH. because I only calculated to have fun off work for a couple of months, and it's been more than that - I was so hopeful that I'd get a new job a lot quicker than I did.

Also for another healthy form of *🤡DEALING🤡* we're about to go to Cirque du Soleil with my parents- because we couldn't get tickets for another date (quite literally. these were the only left and we got a special deal with my parents' job). and isn't that funny? or fun. Y'know back when I had lk hopes and dreams, and I was a naive little girl I used to have these ridiculously grand ideas ahah like having acrobats at my wedding ... and that was when I'd only heard about cirque du Soleil which I'm actually only seeing for the first time today. But I don't think I ever thought "HEY- here's a thought - lets watch them for a deathaversary instead since you're so into the dark side nowadays"

But y'know what? I'm just going with the flow at this point.

Because apparently that's grief. And that's life. And that's the universe.

anyways if anyone has a treatment for repression - I'll take it - because this constipation of feelings has me down bad.

also pls pray for your girl to find a job. Her mental health is in the shitter bc living at home is not ideal when they're part of the reason you got shit mental health.

I pray to one day be a mentally healthy individual and actually maybe hopefully have a healthy (or as healthy looking as possible) relationship with my mother. and maybe even my father . but that shit aint happening with all of us under the same roof. that's just a fact. Despite how bad the real estate market is out there, in this case braving it is a life saving measure.