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Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board / Re: Farm Journal - 2025
« Last post by sKePTiKal on December 17, 2025, 12:00:47 PM »
Slow days around here! Which is GREAT; I've been looking forward to this. So not much news.

The BF seems to have chilled out & got his head on straight. For now, 2 weeks & counting.
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We've been around zero for a few days now. The worst days we had 20-40 mph wind. Today's high will be 40.

I have the heavy comforter on the bed (and if it really gets cold, the fur (real, recycled) blanket will get added. I've been having some neck/shoulder pain (side sleeper) so Hol gave me a bed topper (think feather bed type) to try. She was going to donate it. That makes the new mattress just a bit softer; still firm for both of us. And new 2nd pillows in down, too. It's indulgently soft & warm in bed... which is why one or more kitties sleeps with us.

During the day, about the only thing I add to my normal coat, neck scarf, and fingerless gloves is a ski hat or headband. I keep reminding myself, I used to ice skate for 4-5 hours in zero temps. And I try acclimating to the cold in the fall & early winter, by not overdressing outside.

Nevertheless, about 3 pm every day - regardless of outside conditions - I need to start the fire in the woodstove.

It's supposed to warm up this week.
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Hops, I've been editing the kitchen...... knives got winnowed out last night.  Almost all of them placed in a box....so many of my Grandfather's blades....there, bc they were his.  Not bc we use them, so....into a box.

DD24 organized upper kitchen cabinets recently.  They feel so neat, right and good....like a magazine ad, which I've accepted, is beyond my abilities. It has to be ok.  It is ok. Same for you, I suspect.  Our brains aren't wired that way......they just aren't.

I noticed, and mostly dismissed, noticing my weaknesses.....tried to focus on my strengths.....dive in, embrace, do, achieve, HAVE what's available to me......sans all the typical judgments, and inability to just get on, in the best possible fashion.

A heavy, hand thrown chip and dip plate. with attached bowl, got filled with bird seed and water....put on one pile of hurricane wood in the backyard.  I filmed a bright red cardinal taking a bath.....a squirrel lording over his new hoard, now he's discovered it.... it's his. Snow flurries in the blustering wind.....leaves flying this way, then that.

Mostly, I begin small organization piles, sort, throw, put away and notice opportunities, to choose differently in every moment, come and go.  I can't judge it anymore, bc that time's passed.  I know better..... can't afford to waste the time....finally understand what's traded ...lost....am unwilling to just give away precious time to rumination.

That opened up flowing dialogue with younger parts. Things feel more like an orderly classroom....parts pop up....adult Lighter notices .....reassures/explains/redirects......things continue getting done. It's imperfect movement, of a sort....crabbing along.....sans care for appearances and.... that's not feeling so new.  It just is.

About the energy for other people...... it's always there.  It might not always be a distraction, but there's always a cog in'me brain pan....dedicated....devoted....committed to
redemption.  And I don't know if redemption arcs are.....on my path. For me.  For anyone.  It doesn't matter, but.... some part always pulls, like a stout little committed Frenchie ...always pulling towards it.

I stopped trying to drop it, change it.....banish it.  It belongs ...this cog...just another part.  Not good or bad.  Just there.

I attempted to force huge change yesterday.....by extending an invitation to a early 20's young woman, living in her broken down car.....to live safely in the jazz shack, till her car could be fixed.  Perhaps work with me, here, at the lake, till she's pocketed enough to build a safety net and safer living situation.

I'm looking at that....those words.....THAT would be catalyst for huge change, new choices....altering course drastically......which is something I desire....but more for others, than self.  It was a thought.

Hmmmm. 

She likely wants only dollars, for drugs, but the chance was there.... she's creative...but she knows catalyst is not for her. Yogi must eat, and Yogi wants what Yogi wants.  I'm somewhat relieved and disappointed.  For many reasons. My BS meter's installed.  Filters removed.  Four hands would have been such a relief.

So......my energy returns to self......which is what it is.  Self energy....comforting. Grounded.  Available and present for my younger parts.  We turn towards organizing the garage, which is heated, thank goodness..... itt was 10° yesterday. How do the little forest creatures not freeze? 

I've dropped off requested gifts/snacks at a nearby retirement home.
  That takes some pressure, to do do do for others, down to a French smile....just under a simmer, yup yup yup. 

That's ok too. To notice, and turn back to choices in front of me.  I can let the deeper cares, about people I'm attached to, recede, bc it's ok. Now. But still simmers to the surface, I bet tuce.  That's ok.  I feel like I'm sorting requests, positioning boundaries, and preparing to drop ropes without emotional charge.  It's problem solving...not rumination.

It's also respite...... it's wisdom and knowing.....
to do what I can, then put it on the shelf.  A blessing when it just happens, without having to talk it through, or calm myself out of feeling helpless or at the mercy of, kwim? New pathways. 

It feels like spinning into a smaller, more focused spiral....not necessarily down.  Sometimes up.  Sometimes not changing levels at all.  Just....less unresolved baggage and misdirected yearning.....let go of....dropped away.

I've always understood I was plodding towards meaning.....towards important (to me) work.... that's just mine, and ok to care about, despite other people's disinterest, or judgements.

I notice obvious worries.....let them go by.....like passing clouds.  I am the sky.  I recognize what I can do, and can't do.  Do I need to do something? 

About dropping the packages at the retirement home....I brought the pug....wanted to see joy on resident's faces.... outstretched hands, reaching for chubby little rolls of double coated pug loveliness.

Instead, a worker caught me in the entrance hall.....turned me around, and sent me into the empty social worker's office. Very disappointing.  The pug frightened a dog-phobic employee, who almost climbed a co-worker, sitting at his desk.  More disappointment. 

I didn't go through all that trouble,carrying pug with, for nothing, so we marched back up the hall, to the wheelchair ed lady in a mustard colored mumu with red trim, somehow perfectly matching the pug's red with yellow and green sweater from Peru. It was just meant to be!  The lady's arms were stretched out.....she said she wanted to pet.....
her eyes were on baby girl pug, at this point. As I bent to her, pug raised to her level, the gal shifted her gaze to my middle, then put both hands on my stomach.  Shocking.  It felt like some dirty old man had possessed her, but old women can, and are, creepy too. WTAF? The aid, with old lady, looked at me like...."I tried to warn you."

Before I could react, a very short, very wide gray Frenchie approached us.....pulling his Asian leash-holder behind him.  As I willed the pug NOT to scream, the Frenchie lett out one big bark. I noted his little service vest, as he bullied by us.

The pug was silent....likely bc I had her in the air.....but appearances were....
pug well behaved.
Frenchie a fraudster service dog.
 I'll take it.
  Time to go. Frenchie parked next to us.  I really wanted to muff him up....was too late....they were buckled in as we got to our car.  He was impossibly low and wide ...little devil-bat ears.  Irresistible!

About dna and passing it along.  I see it......feel it.... experience it, but there's fear....veering me away from it, bc.....child oncology wards......adult children in diapers ....violent adult children, on the spectrum, kicked from facility to facility.  I have friends, and extended family members, dealing with some of these realities.  It makes my cells vibrate 🫨 uncomfortably.  Knocks the thoughts away.

I'm happy to say I feel refreshed, this morning, and focused on resolving particular problems....one way or the other. Choices have appeared.  It feels obvious.... now, but has created so much past grief and upset......grief and upset being the sticking points, I guess. 

My desk, and closet, are looking neater/less cluttered.....little circles of attention....happy spirals.

Stay warm,  ((Hops.))

Lighter





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Oh no, Hops!  I guess we're supposed to flip our wiper blades up....off the glass, in the cold.  I thought it was just for the snow.
Sorry that happened to you.....glad it's just the wiper blades......not too big'a hit, I hope.

About the cold..... sometimes I can't stand the idea.....I feel cold to my organs, want to bundle up just to walk on porch with baby girl pug.....fear the cold on my throat and neck.

But sometimes.....I hardly register the cold.....am surprised a light t-shirt and summer jammy bottoms are fine, in the cold.....I register it as feeling strong. Again.  Feeling cold feels vulnerable.  I don't like it.

That said, we were gifted a big box of blankets, by someone moving house....they did a hard edit.  I kept only one small heated blanket....soft and in the style of the 1950's blankets my Grandparents used in their basement.....mostly with prints. Think cowboy style.  Sometimes I use that blanket.  Sometimes I'm shocked I get cold.....bc I feel too warm, but it's on my bed, which is filled with the extra pillows and comforters used for October guests.  I need a hard edit, of bedding, too.

I realize, there's some discomfort of....not having enough....when contemplating that edit.  Giving specific things, to specific people, who need them ....mostly single mums and children .....throws a happy lever.....makes filling boxes easy. 

Bundle up proactively, Hops...... don't let the cold catch you.  Small heaters, in the bathroom feel so nice.

Lighter





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I hear that!
My over-sensitive self reacts to extreme cold like it's an assault. A slow, nearly scary assault. And it makes my chest hurt, which turns on the hyporchondriacal microscope.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Windshield wipers froze and one broke. Damn.

hugs
Hops
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Baby, it's COLD outside!!! 🥶 ❄️

That song just doesn't hit the same anymore. 😔
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PS, two things:
Your description of your desk was utterly enticing, and I wish I could see it. But really, you gave such a great verbal picture, I did.

I don't think "bipolar" about you and I'm not qualified to know, but your T might be interested in the question. Despite my D's agonies, I know that bipolar is treatable with the right Rx and many people live peacefully with it. Many years ago, when I asked to see a medical record, I noticed that one counselor had noted: "Possible bipolar?" I went on to see various other therapists for a long time, and none ever suggested it again. But in the back of my mind I wonder: Did part of my D's vulnerability to this come through my genes, like my ADHD? And the mental disorders on my Nmom's side of the family? And the spectrum stuff from her Dad's side? Could be. That's nature for ya. Wiring wiring wiring. I'm believing nature trumps (pardon the expression) nuture a lot more these days.
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You're bold and brave, Lighter, as well as creative. What people outside of you are up to drains you sometimes and you just wish they'd GET it, amirite?

I'm cowardly and I know it. I always have been the bunny wabbit twembling in the bushes. My social strength has faded a lot in recent years, probably a natural part of aging plus my own tapes, so to speak. I don't worry so much about it meaning anything, but I notice I'm a lot more tentative about going out, and isolate by instinct. I'm more at peace with my rabbity side. Isolating isn't clever, but I'm learning to make "go mingle with humans" something like flossing teeth. Don't like having to do it, but teeth feel great afterward.

Like when I searched for a dog (here she goes, reverting to her obsession). Pooch, my soul dog, was highly sensitive too. Soulful and intuitive to an amazing degree. Now I live with a little aggressive warrior who is so driven by his drives that he is an exhausting companion a lot of the time. But there's always an hour or two every morning and evening when he's pressed up against me with such sweetness and trust, despite our battles, that he's worth it. Plus, he makes me laugh every single day. He has the kind of crazy face that makes people break into smiles when we pull up at a light and he's got his face stuffed out the car window. I love seeing that happen. Some glum driver will look over and just break into a huuuge, uncontrollable grin. Pup's face is SO funny (and cute), he doesn't have to try!

IwishIwish I knew how to post a photo. It just don't work when I click the image thing.

As much as the negative inner chitchat, I still feel joy, gratitude, and the most important thing to me, wonder. I tell myself, good lord, look where you LIVE! The world is absolutely AMAZING! I look at a shrub or a mulberry and feel ASTONISHED. The wonder is loud inside.

My negative "tapes" are scratchy, worn and a lot less loud, and I'm a lot less interested in listening to them these days. I'm interested and excited about myself when I write something good. Ultimately, I'll die with a wrinkled poem in my hands, and that will be peaceful for me.

The feeling that dominated my life for many years was anxiety. Depression is in there but now I watch for that like I do a virus: wash my hands a lot, avoid crowds. And so my anxiety is way softer than it used to be. The worst "tape" was like an endless argument with myself and a nonstop fear loop. Fear of being as alone and vulnerable and rejected as I felt as a child. Reflecting on that I realize the depth of sadness I was stuck in, year after year after year. I was also brought up in a shaming, sin-obsessed religion, which was like drinking Drano.

I believed with all my heart that I needed the acceptance and affection of others. Well I did, really, because humans need humans. But I remember lying on my bed as a child with my heart just broken, because of being bullied or worse, ostracized, at school. My sensitivity was massive. People would of course call it "over sensitive" and I struggled and struggled to try to figure out how much was allowed. The pain would get so big that if I'd understood back then that there was such a thing as suicide, I might've tried it. Thank heaven I didn't know.

Now I know how Popeye felt ("I yam what I yam.") I feels what I feels and I can always write about it. And with more years, I can see that wiring as both a gift and a curse. Spent enough time cursing myself for being wired the way I am, and now I'm a lot less worried about my nature. If somebody asks me how I am, I tell them the truth. Some are startled, but I've also found a few folks who enjoy direct, self-revealing honesty. When I'm not afraid of people, I do let out a wry sense of humor, which my Dad had too. He would make subtle funny faces for me that I took in as pure love. So maybe humor's a protective function I didn't recognize as such. It brings me pure joy to make people laugh.

Volunteering with the older-oldsters is probably the most healing thing I do. I feel purpose and joy when I shepherd some wobbly person with a walker who's lived a remarkable life. I've noticed that I can come back from a two-hour service feeling drained, though.

I'm just rambling along, Lighter. I see your monologue in this post as remarkable, and it goes deep. I think it might be your own "I can always write about it" way of caring about yourself, your inner tapes. So much of it is focused on others that I admire your ability to imagine correcting and training those who are clearly harming themselves. I wonder if you feel your responsbility for others' well being and/or progress feels good for you, or sometimes is a burden? Are you allowed both? Is it just a matter of keeping it in balance? Sometimes on, sometimes unplugged?

With renovations and decor, the new lingo that fascinated me most was "curating." It's a new tilt on self expression. My brain's not orderly enough to do that, as I'm more splash and dash, even with writing. Visually, I love things and colors that express rather than impress. Largely, the latter is either beyond my skills or not very interesting to me.

Thank you for trying to do that for me sometimes. It works!

hugs,
Hops
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Loyalty.
Patterns
People....sometimes men..... sometimes women....... sometimes children, who're kind to some, toxic to others....sometimes flipping back and forth.
People, who allow toxic behavior......invite it back, over and over, despite repeated trauma inflicted by the charming, charismatic, and toxic people who will never ever ever ever commit to them, but still, they're allowed back, over and over.....what IS that comfort?  I dislike calling it comfort.  Feels wrong.  Feels exhausting to contemplate.  People, surprise me all the time, with the energy they have for unhealthy people, skin peeled off feels like homeostasis to some?  Well, ya....it can.  It does.
Pawing back past relationships, however shallow and meager a meal......over and over, likely kept as backup supply, as coping strategy......the discarded ones, lacking enough self esteem to accept the truth, and withdraw their hope/energy/whatever it is they believe might change, even though the past 30 or 40 years of deeds, facts and evidence are plain as day.  This person will never change, but still.  Hope.  Blah.
Wounded people wounding others.
The kind empaths, attracted to the overtly wounding people.....over and over. 
Exhausting, but filling enough.

Patterns....all kinds....all around us.... sometimes, often, our own patterns.


I feel next T session will be T telling stories.
Story time, yup yup yup.
(I feel I might could figure it all out, if only I gained enough emotional distance.) Sometimes.

I want an......overview....simplification I can digest..... to extrapolate from.  I want it to make sense....square up.
No.
 I need it to make sense....today.
That's what I get for seeking quiet time, and meditation.  It changes things.

All the sudden I'm sick to death of the patterns....repetition....the tired plodding in habitual formation. With food, relationship, actions and people...... everything.

I want to shake everything up......just......shake it. 

Do NOTHING reactive......
but choose, select, discern in every moment.....mindfully?

But.....
 with a vengeance. Ya.

That feels.....
 just about right, as does the discomfort, of contemplating radical change.  Just bc it's sickening, doesn't mean it isn't the best next handful of uncomfortable possible choices.

When the discomfort of staying/repeating patterns, outweighs the comfort of changing/leaving....
one changes/goes.

Contemplating radical change, sans permission, understanding or approval from others, is a natural progression of the villain arc....I know it is.

Like a nauseating mental roller coaster.....plodding up, then screaming downhill....barely hanging on.... sometimes coming off the rails.....by accident.....not even trying.

Is everyone thinking bipolar here?

I digress.

What happens when one commits, with some measure of intestinal fortitude, to the unfamiliar and uncomfortable, sans the familiar plodding back to familiar resets?  Just letting the familiar go, as the new reset?

Feels like..... increased meditation, and discomfort, coming to a friend near you.

No matter where one goes.....there one is.  It's not location one switches up.... it's altering brain pathways, and choices....after restoring choice.  After noticing the absence of choice.

I miss Changing today.

Lighter






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I hear that!

For me, loyalty is a hard thing to unseat. So, if a present friendship goes sour, which a few have done over time, I have to teach myself that peeling gently away from it is not unkind to either person. I often ponder medical metaphors...if one needs lifesaving surgery, the incision and recovery pain are good and necessary things. I can fear the change in my self-perception (More Alooooone!) or loss of a source of support, but ultimately, my Poet trials have taught me a lot. We'll see how it goes; I know I'm different with her and her radar is pinging.

You taught me a lot. And dogs. And neighbors. And women's groups. And men. And nature. And aging. And and and and and....

Today, speaking of friendship, I'm meeting a writer pal for lunch at a diner and Pup is spending the afternoon at Dog Camp while my house gets cleaned by the angel I worry about (undocumented immigrant, expecting her fourth child). I love E and worry about her and her family. I'm also having irrational grandma fantasies about her child. I'll tell her she can bring the baby here to work whenever she needs to. Have also asked my church if she might be included on a "giving tree" we do during the holidays. Today I pay her quadruple for the holidays, because she deserves it. If that dents the savings, so be it.

hugs
Hops
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