labelleizzy: (brain dump)
Tuesday, July 20th, 2021 04:05 pm
I'm struggling to adult and there's lots to do.

* Relationship foo

* Schedule foo (see friends, see family, have dates

* Polyamorous foo (dealing with jealousy and finding the courage to bring up my concerns and ask for what I want)

* HEALTH foo, which is multilayer:

** Body pain: *chiropractor, *physical therapy and maybe *massage? I could use my birthday card from almost 2 years ago, but still, SCHEDULE foo.

** Optometry: apparently my last visit was in 2017. I didn't break my glasses so I guess I just didn't go in? (Scheduled for Friday PM)

** Gynecology. Because the girl parts smell bad, I have mild pelvic pain,and zero libido. (Just scheduled for Thursday PM.) ALSO I need to understand more about what to expect from my hopefully upcoming menopause.

** Mental health. The depression and ADHD are not managing themselves. I'm spending hours per day on the internet basically trying to cheer myself up.

About that last one. Today got pretty bad because J was starting another dating website profile, and it hit me hard. We have Stuff To Talk About and I struggle with starting the conversation. Partly because it went so badly for me before when I brought up Previous Stuff, which is also an Aspect of Current Stuff, of course.

Okay.
BUT I DID ask for help earlier today when I found myself panicking and spiraling, and he dropped what he was doing to come over and help, so that was good.

AND I'm going to have a needed shower 🚿 (my hair's been up in a braid for three days and it wasn't clean before that) also the previously mentioned smelly parts definitely need some gentle TLC.

And then I'll eat a little bit more of something.

I'm thinking this all is like getting a farm or a garden back up and running after fourteen months of not looking after it. The neglect, in the end, hasn't been very benign.
labelleizzy: (sun)
Monday, September 16th, 2019 04:42 pm
i have a new tattoo! First stage of my baby sea turtle was completed yesterday, and it's really a good one. [profile] jopie_lee made it so this stage is cool to wear and doesn't feel unfinished, but we'll come back to it in a month or so and work on the rest of the details.

i also had a pretty profound endorphins crash. [personal profile] wrenb called it a serotonin crash, she'd know better than i would.

she theorized that after the pain endurance of the tattoo and because I recognized at the time that I was definitely surfing the endorphin rush! that i was likely to crash today, so she checked in.

when i told her i was drinking yesterday's cold tea, she asked did i *want to* and I said "eh, it's easier"

she told the polycule that "whenever Liz or I aren't bothered or don't have the energy to make tea, something's wrong!" which, LOL, called out. But also not incorrect!

so she came over and took care of me, and it was LOVELY. she made all the decisions and just moved through the house like a mother of hobbits, helping and asking and doing and fixing things up "what else do you need to do to feel better" she asks after helping me clear all the surfaces in the livingroom/kitchen. so we (mostly she) folded and put away the laundry piles in the bedroom.

and [personal profile] wrenb found some clothes that were on the way to being rags and said, "do you really need to keep these?" and it was a good question to ask, because No, I don't need to keep ragged clothes, I can actually throw them away, it's totally fine, I have three other pairs of shorts and i don't actually know how many sports bras I have now... and it was GOOD.

All I have to do is finish clearing the bed off before bedtime. I fed myself lunch (potstickers in broth) after she left and it made it a little bit easier to think a little bit more, I'm gonna eat some fruit probably in just a bit and try to get a bit more housework under control.

*slurp* mmmm tea.

my friend Adi asked me why did I need to cover up the old piece. and that was also a good question to ask. I've given various reasons to other people, but to her I said, I got the old one when i was with my ex husband, and I need a new touchstone now. I like that. It has the added benefit of being honest and true without being something I thought too much about.

I don't know how i made it through literal years of thinking about and planning this tattoo without telling Jeff that I had elemental associations for all that big ones I've had planned. the one in the userpic above? the Sun. This one? a water turtle, ahead of my 50th birthday. Next one planned is a crow, mid-flight coming in to snatch a shiny thing. Probably gonna do that one for my 52nd birthday.

Earth, I've not decided yet. I've thought about a crescent moon on the back of my neck. not 100% sure about that.

I Contain Multitudes. =)))

and sometimes you just gotta shed some skin to make the change happen.
labelleizzy: (Default)
Sunday, September 15th, 2019 12:39 am
(not much secret, I just posted a giant hint to InstaBook...)

I'm getting my cover-up tattoo tomorrow! Less than twelve hours away!

I don't know how much of it we can get done... But I've been following [profile] jopie_lee for awhile on Instagram and have confidence that we can make this good. She SQUEEEEEEEEE when I showed her the reference photos, so I'm pretty excited.
labelleizzy: (Default)
Wednesday, September 4th, 2019 02:30 pm
From October 12th, 2018, 03:28 pm
Inktober/wordtober/poem a day
The prompt was "Nessie" but I'm taking this somewhere else underwater.

Longing.

Have you ever been shamed for what you craved? Has your longing ever been pointed out as wrong or weird or twisted or broken or an imposition or something unnecessary?

I have. I've been shamed for wanting things, for wanting experiences, for wanting people. And I don't think that was right. And most days I'm okay, most days it feels like I'm over it, but today is not one of those days.

The thing about a longing is it doesn't come out of your mind. It's not a thought. It wells up from deep in your belly, deep in your heart, or dare I say it, spirit or soul. You can't talk yourself out of a longing.

You can hold yourself quiet about it, can keep the surface of your personal pond pristine and peaceful. Still, underneath the surface something lives, something moves, something travels. Something roils the water beneath the surface.

And there are days where I can no longer bear to live on the quiet pristine peaceful surface. On a day like today, I sink below to the Deep places, where the water presses through my flesh and into my bones.

I sink down to the deep mud churned places, where I can finally breathe.



2)
KILROY WAS HERE
(probably 2015)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903659

...and it takes place after the end of the world.

Oh god, we were SO FUCKING STUPID.
So naive.

those long discussions around the campfire or around the HDTV, cold beers in our hands, hot nachos in the fucking microwave, laughing and joking about the fucking "zombie apocalypse". How we would have this job or that job, how we would hole up in a Costco store, because it would have everything we'd need to survive and even enjoy life after the world ended. The skills we already had or could learn quickly in order to be valuable enough to win our way into someone else's fortified stronghold.

We had NO IDEA. We had NO IDEA what we really needed, what we really knew how to do, how fucking SOFT we were.
How much EVERYTHING would hurt. How much WORK just bloody EVERYTHING would take, how much thinking and planning and acquiring.

How much FEAR. Terror. Absolutely shit-your-pants terror.

We used to say, "I'd get a really good knife, and really good boots, and this kind of backpack and that kind of rifle" without really understanding.
What happens when your knife gets dull? Well, you sharpen it. How do you sharpen it? Do you KNOW how? do you have the right tools? can you recognize something else you could improvise as a blade sharpener, if you run across it? and can you use that blade, even dull, to do what you must to survive another day? It's hard work, gutting a carcass, butchering an animal for meat...

Same goes, obviously, for the REST of all our dumb-shit assumptions about how privileged and lucky and SKILLED we were.

What happens if someone TAKES your tools from you? Those books you treasured, that were the reason why you thought you'd gain admission into someone's guarded bolthole? The boots, the knife, even your CLOTHES. What happens if you're not strong enough to protect them? To hold onto them?

Knowing how to brew beer isn't very valuable when there's not enough fucking FOOD. Nobody really cares about booze when they're starving. Knowing how to bake bread is useless, so are gardening skills, if you can't settle down anywhere longer than a week or two for fear of the scavengers. Wildcrafting is a blessing, and I'm glad every day for what I learned from my beloved Girl Scout Leader, of all things. What she taught me when I was fourteen makes the difference now between hungry and starved to death.

I'm always hungry now, I'm always worried about getting hurt bad enough so I can't run anymore. I haven't had any of my meds in over two years, I've got half a tube of neosporin left and fuck-all chance of scoring any more. I'm getting slower, I hurt more often, I'm lonely as fuck. I'll never stop grieving my husband and my home and the comforts I once took for granted, but I just don't have any fucking TIME to FEEL. Every moment has to be spent in working out how am I going to survive this day, food, water, shelter, taking care of myself, whether I can trust anyone at all. Despair would dog my footsteps if Despair could keep up with me. I move fast for an old broad. Fuck that, I move fast period.

What the fuck am I even doing? Who am I even writing this for? I have no idea who's going to read it, but I'm stuck here anyway till it's dark and I can sneak away through the shadows. Might as well, I guess.
heh.
One thing my shitty childhood was good for. Learning how to hide, to sneak, to find all the places nobody would think to look for me. No, I'm not sharing my secrets. Find your own damn bolthole. Oh. Heh. If you're reading this, I guess you DID find your own bolthole, just that I was here first. Hi.

I'd tell you to keep the faith, but I don't think anyone has faith in anything but themselves anymore. I'd tell you to keep up hope, but I know you know that's a stupid, useless thing to say. I can tell you I'm thinking about you, because it's true. Random Stranger Reading This, I hope you're less hungry and less alone than I am. RSRT, I hope you have someone or something to love and take care of. RSRT, try to be kind. My only happy memories from the last two years are of random kindnesses. Someone scratched directions to a waterhole that hadn't gone dry. Someone left bedding in a bolthole. Someone left the last few pieces of fruit on a tree... that might not have been kindness, that might have been someone who was too big to climb out onto those thin whippy branches at the top of the tree... someone little like me could still get up and out to them.

Once, back in the day, I was fat and prosperous and happy. I thought I was ugly, being fat, I had NO fucking IDEA. I was so lucky then. I was loved, and safe, and pampered and treasured, and I had no idea. Now I'm tiny, wiry, strong, and fast. I have had to be, to survive.

Random Stranger Reading this, despite everything, have hope. Life may be shit right now, but if we all keep going, something has GOT to get better. Maybe I've been off my meds too long, and this is a manic episode, maybe it's just I've exhausted all my fear and I don't fucking have time for anything that doesn't keep me going.

I do have hope. I don't know why, but I do.

It's almost dark now, I can barely see to write, so it's time to pack up and head out silently to my next bolthole.

I hope you can pass some hope along to the next person you meet, and I hope they're worthy of you trusting them.

Good luck, and gods' speed to you.

"kilroy"

Logged reading time: 7:30


3)
poem: Building Strength
(2:30)

why is it painful to let go of unhelpful words?
perhaps these were once upon a time, protectors,
the words bookworm, nerd, gimp, weakling.
the belief that if it was hard, I wasn't meant to do it...
if I were meant to do it, it would surely come naturally?

i can't seem to get my glasses clean
to see my own Self in the mirror
to understand my own wingspan
or the extent of my reach
or how far I can leap

hamstrung by my blindness
the persistence of memory
self image of pale, soft, weak, fearful
but there is so much more to me
than what I used to be

Am I strong? Yes. Am I smart? Yes.
Am I capable? Yes. Am I flexible? Yes.
Am I kind? Yes.
Am I soft?

*smile* Yes, I am soft.
Soft like a pillow at naptime, and comfortable.
Soft like silk sheets, and strong like them too.

Am I brave?
Yes.
Could I write were I still fearful?
Yes, ... but I wouldn't show my heart, were I still fearful.

I don't deal in trivialities.
I want the blood, and the bone, and the sweat,
I want the gritted teeth and the grunts of effort.

I step beyond old useless protectors.
I make myself stronger from the inside
I stand strong

I do not need the deflections of nerd, gimp, weakling.

I see the world as it is and as I would have it
and I reach out my hands
to begin shaping the world
A strong, kind, smart, compassionate world

and my strong hands
will shape it

NOTES: Good audience attention and faces.
Kit said, "damn you got some tasty brains!"
Jeff said, "good pieces!"

Jen and Andrew, Sean and Julia, Suzie and Bala, Mindy and Steve, Jeff and Daniel,
Kit and Amy, all attended!!!
labelleizzy: (Default)
Wednesday, September 4th, 2019 02:16 pm
old ghosts (tw: termination of pregnancy)

I was looking in the mirror one day and thought, "I would have none of this if I hadn't ended the pregnancy."

I was 25 years old when I got pregnant.
Can't decide if I should phrase that as "had an unwanted pregnancy", "got impregnated", or what. "got knocked up" isn't quite appropriate for the situation, because I can't afford in telling this story to be too flippant.

it was 1995. My dad had been dead less than a year, after being sick from diabetes and liver damage for several years, declining worse each year.
Mom and I were living together, in the house on Papaya Drive with the 1970's Spanish tile floors and the little fish pond and waterfall in the back yard. I had a great view of the green green green backyard, and had the constant waterfall noise in my ears every night as I fell asleep.


The smell and the feel of that house inform my memories of the time.

Brian and I were having sex and he didn't tell me that the condom broke, till after. Like, it still puzzles me, he says he felt it tearing, he says it was actually kind of painful for him, but he kept going.

He told me afterwards that he thought I wanted him to, to keep going, which yeah, who doesn't wanna get off, but seriously WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE DOESN'T TELL HIS GIRLFRIEND THAT THE CONDOM BROKE. I still ... *makes incoherent rage noises*

You know how I learned that the condom broke? I reached down to hold the top of the condom when he went to pull out, and the horror of it was that all there was to hold was the ring that was the top of it. That was all that was left. … we had to dig inside my vagina and find it to pull it back out….

I could try to put possible reasons on what he was thinking, maybe it was as simple as HE wanted to get off too so he kept going even without the condom.

But I don't really wanna think about his alleged motivations because **I** was the one who wound up pregnant.

I felt the change in my body almost immediately. Within just a few days after the "accident," my boobs got bigger, the nipples got softer and more tender. My pussy and labia were constantly hot and tender, and I just had this internal *awareness* low in my pelvis and belly. And I had so many feelings about all of it.

mostly I came to a sudden and crystallized awareness that, more than not wanting to have to raise a child, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with BRIAN. And I knew immediately, at a gut level, that in some way or another, no matter what else, I'd have to deal with Brian forever if I chose to have this kid.

and it was almost inconceivable anyway, (heh, yeah I went there) to think of having a kid. You spend so much of your early adolescence and twenties controlling your fertility really tightly, worried about the what-if. And sex is mostly fun, mostly meant to be fun, when you're not in a serious relationship and *planning* to have a kid…*

I had done research for a paper in college into medical side effects of being pregnant, it's no kind of easy walk in the park! There's real risk of gestational diabetes, blood pressure problems, varicose veins, digestion issues, likelihood of daily vomiting over months, *massive* mood swings and hormone changes, I mean the number of side effects you have to suffer through for a WANTED pregnancy, not to mention the non-zero risk of DEATH, or single parenthood, or ... all the different ways your children hurt you or break your heart.

That little... blue line on the pregnancy test. Oh my god. Possibly the scariest thing I've ever seen, and I already even KNEW. Like, there was no MISTAKING what my body was doing. I had this swirl of emotions going through my brain and body.


And I left the test on the bathroom counter, under a sheet of newspaper.(back when we still took the paper) Like I had zero idea how to talk to my mom about this. I was terrified I was going to be a disappointment to her, but I knew without thinking that if I *didn't* conceal this test, she would find it and know and help me. (and it turned out that she did find it, and she did help me, which I'll talk about at the end)

I can't even tell you about all the other things I was feeling then because even now, 25 years later, it's still hard thinking about that time in my life; emotional chaos and turmoil, still angry and grieving my father's death, along with everything else. I know I haven't quite forgiven myself for my own ignorance (and what feel like bad-choices when I am being hard on myself).

Though, trust me I do know all about the extenuating circumstances. I know why I made those bad choices especially because I have gotten therapy and done a lot of self work over the last two decades. I can see my own patterns and recognize where those impulses arose from and I don't let that part of myself drive the bus anymore, because I've healed a lot of those childhood injuries, or at least mostly healed them. Largely through talking and writing, both writing the blog and longhand and poetry. All kinds of ways.

I was 25, and Brian was 28. Theoretically that was old enough to know what we wanted, but both of us were dumb and inexperienced in relationships. We'd not really thought and especially not talked about what we wanted at the time or at any time in the future. We were just slinging along together because I think both of us thought we were the best we could do.

But we were old enough to decide if we wanted to have a child together and we met at Tower Cafe in downtown Sacramento to talk about it. about two weeks after the condom broke and a few days after I had taken the test. I'd said "we need to get together and to talk face to face" and he said yes, so we scheduled it. We hadn't even sat down properly at the patio table when Brian said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" and I said yes. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went but I remember it wasn't a difficult or stressful one.

We were unanimous, that we didn't want to have a child (together), and we were both relieved to find that out. That neither of us had to try and convince the other to keep or to terminate. We were agreed to terminate.

I made the appointment. I had to stay pregnant for a total of eight weeks before the hospital could perform the procedure. I don't remember why that was.

To his credit,(Brian) did take me to the appointment, and did get me home safely.

My mom, and this makes my eyes fill up with tears, had a heating pad, an extra blanket, and she'd set up her bed, the big bed, for me to have a nap. She brought me a bed tray with my favorite tea, some toast with jam, and a little rose-bud in a little vase. I absolutely did cry from that, and everything else.

Brian stayed with me there on the bed until I had the snack and fell asleep. It was dark when I woke up, and he wasn't there anymore, and I was disappointed and angry, but realized there was really only so much I could expect from the guy.

Mom was good to me. No judgment, no anger, just support. She had my back. I had her back. We were a good team back then.

I don't like contemplating alternate universes for this story. Like, the what-if game doesn't work out well for me.

in 1995 I hadn't gone back to school to get a teaching credential.

I hadn't met my first husband, or even the boyfriend before him (who was and is a better human being and more thoughtful and kind than either Brian or my first husband).
I hadn't started my spiritual journey that gives me so much richness and meaning in my life (and which I was turned on to by the boyfriend I mention above)///
I hadn't started getting therapy for my relationship with my dad and my inability to grieve him or to get out of the anger stage of the grief.

My mind shudders away from the idea of having had to raise a kid in the conditions we were living in. Not that those were horrible, but it would have been stressful, hard work. And while I know motherhood is supposed to have its rewards, I just don't even know how I would have coped, without the skills that I have been able to acquire BECAUSE I didn't have a kid...

It's this fork in the road that my life took, and I DEFINITIVELY chose the one path and left the other path behind.

I'm glad I am HERE. I'm glad that THIS is what it is. I'm glad to have Eeyore and my priesthood and Burning Man and a lot of beloved friends. I'm glad to have the writing, and the making and the sewing and the dancing, and the work toward social justice.

The ability to choose when and whether to have a child is HUGE in your ability to determine your life's path. HUGE./// 12 Minutes

I don't have any kind of snappy ending, except that I am grateful that I got the chance to have the choice about whether or not to have a kid, and I will continue to fight for other people's right to chose whether to have a kid or not.

NOTES Performed this on the spoken word stage at center camp, Burning Man 2019 Mon August 26. One woman thanked me and cried. One man told me about, before he knew he was gay, his girlfriend got pregnant, and when she miscarried, they also cuddled in bed with the heating pad. And a couple that were pregnant (8 months) and beautiful "the first one I've carried to term"
But the last person said, "did you do this as a TED talk? It feels familiar" and I said no, it was a blog post and he said "huh well I guess we know what comes next"
SQUEEEEEEEEE

TAGS abortion, actions have consequences, anger, becoming, challenge, children, choice, dad, death, designing my own life, feeling some feelings, feelings, guilt, karma, life is good, making things, mom, open hearted, pagan practice in everyday life, paradigm shift, parent, past lives, pathwork, personal cartography, pregnancy, probably more than you really wanted to , sad, self, self-worth, spirituality, state of the liz, stomping brain weasels, stream of consciousness, taking care of business., truth falling out of my mouth, what doesn't kill me makes me stronger, words, spoken word, burning man
labelleizzy: (nanowrimo)
Wednesday, January 16th, 2013 10:37 am

I am grateful that...

 

* I have a husband who loves me and who I love & can respect , is physically demonstrative with affection, pets, and cuddles, and supports us both in comfort.

 

*I have a pair of silly and serious kittehs, who nag me to get up, to pet them, to feed them, to play with them.

 

* I have exceptional health. I barely got a sniffle, for the last two years. My body is working well and responding to Martha Graham's "slow and steady pressure" as I incorporate loving movement into my daily habits.

 

*I have a good mind. I troubleshoot and bring creative problem solving skills to all kinds of situations, and sometimes can find the solution that eludes others.

 

* I have a good heart. I try to love well and without "judging", and to communicate proactively and with radical honesty. I try to bring health, clarity, and optimism wherever I go.

 

I am grateful for my ability to learn from my mistakes and to incorporate these lessons into my life. Every bit of learning has something to do that can make Life better, and even the small lessons (eat something when you get up if you have a Sad) have a remarkable impact. (like now.)

labelleizzy: (yoga)
Tuesday, September 11th, 2012 06:15 pm
Having a few thoughts about this fitness journey.

1. It feels weird doing "self-care" at all, but "self-care that involves moving my body", I only have one model for in my childhood, not from my own childhood, but from fiction: The Secret Garden by wosshername... I'll remember it in a bit. I don't have a lot of "moving feels good" memories from when I was a child, most of them happened when I was alone and exploring the capabilities of my body... I used to hold my breath for ages... stand on my head for long minutes at a time just for the hell of it... swim for hours in the pool.

So moving now, because it feels good and makes me feel BETTER when I DO IT? well. It's kinda revelatory.

2. On THAT note, yoga today ROCKED. My first yoga class since just before the knee surgery, so about ten months. It was just the right amount of gentle and the right amount of challenge for where I am. My right hipflexor and right outer thigh were cramping during a mildly challenging pose, it's a good indicator that I still have work to do to balance out the damage and imbalance from years of a broken ligament. Okay. It's data, I can work with it.

I do want to do some kind of workout and weight training earlier in the day before having a formal yoga class again next week, I was wobbly-as-heck during the balance poses (Tree was particularly difficult) and I do seem to have better balance when my muscles are warm and loose. So that's something else to bear in mind.

3. Lots of the body feels better now. Very exciting to feel warm and stretched even three hours after the workout. And my heel doesn't hurt either, thanks for the advice on that, [livejournal.com profile] blacksheep_lj! Hips and side muscles need more work and stretching, shoulders and the under-behind of the shoulders still need to be stronger and more flexible.

4. Got a date with a massage therapist on Thursday, I can't WAIT... saw him two weeks ago and he worked wonders on my neck (the airline cable previously mentioned) when paired with a nice hard workout just after the massage (only I think I will try to do it just before the massage this time and compare the results)... Hips and calves and neck again, I think. This time I get a 90 minute session and I think we can do really good work... he had an excellent delineation technique where he got into several of the tiny neglected support and balance muscles very deeply, and it was just incredibly therapeutic.

5. Food in my house is phenomenal right now. I'm so blessed and lucky. Brand new lasagna and fresh green salad last night (and sooo much leftovers), leftover red peanut curry, seafood pasta salad, and the go-to sandwich fillings just feed me right. I love [livejournal.com profile] eeyore42's cooking...


that's all I have for right now. I can't wait to have a regular yoga practice again!
labelleizzy: (green path)
Thursday, February 25th, 2010 09:23 pm
I'm about to embark on a three week intensive journey deep into the landscape of Waldorf.

I may or may not see and talk to y'all for the duration, I probably won't have time & energy to read LJ.

Here's the schedule: Oh, and did I mention my car needs a new radiator as of yesterday? BAH...

  • This upcoming weekend: Still have classes in San Rafael, with its particular soul-quality and load of homework requirements
  • Daily during the first week: Drive from Mountain View to Santa Cruz, and back.
  • Spend most of the day intensely observing, and breathing in/living the culture of the 4th grade classroom and the whole school.
  • First weekend: Still have classes in San Rafael, with its particular soul-quality and load of homework requirements
  • Second week: Daily drive to Santa Cruz etc, except I should be actually assisting in the class
  • Second weekend: I get the weekend off from my Waldorf classes to prep for my actually teaching a Waldorf class during the week. *inhale* *exhale* I can do this.
  • Second weekend: Am currently planning a visit to the Nova Albion Steampunk event in Emeryville. Not sure I can pull this off; let's see how heavy the workload and prep time are.
  • Third Week: Daily Drive to Santa Cruz etcetera, AND I'll be teaching the main lesson, on a totally new subject from what I've been observing. Whoa. AND it's something I only just learned myself, in my last Waldorf weekend class, AND I'll have to present it in a way that's appropriate for fourth grade Waldorf students, which I am not yet sure how I will do this.

Okay.

Short answer: I'ma be busy, and none of it, unfortunately, brings a paycheck. I'll be hermiting hard, practicing self care, and getting as much sleep and water as possible.

Still, I Love you all, send me an email if you wanna talk to me, or give me a phone call.