Actually, katz, thank you for that, even though I know it isn’t addressed to me. I’ve been spending quite a bit of time lately wondering if I am terrible. There’s been a catalog running in my head lately of all the times I’ve been a jerk before.
Ugh, I hate it when my mind gets hung up on bad things I said/did in the past.
But the fact that you’re thinking about them and you know they were bad means that you’ll be more sensitive in the future. And in general it means that you care about how your actions affect other people and so you’re going to generally be a nice person all the time.
Emily, is that a real question? Because seriously, that’s never actually true.
And if you’re wondering if it’s true, then inevitably it isn’t, because terrible self-centered people don’t wonder whether they are terrible.
Seconding this.
While your general headspace and environment is important while tripping, this:
Bad acid trips can send people to the psychiatric ward and cause permanent damage.
Is pretty much a damn urban legend.
That’s what happened to one of my step-dad’s friends. He’s in a horrible mental state now, and he still hasn’t left the psychiatric hospital. I could be wrong about it being common, though.
“What my parents told me” reminds me of something Mum said years ago – that whatever I am, it’s what she and the male parental unit* made me. Not wholly true, of course, but she has a point about the parents doing so much of the shaping of a child. They’re the ones with the power and the responsibility, and they don’t get to worm out of it by blaming a child for what it is.
(I’m presuming we’re not talking about a parent speaking to adult offspring who’s done something vile here; I’d have no trouble with an MRA’s parent tellilng him he’s a terrible person.)
*Mum didn’t call him that, though it occurs to me I should introduce her to the term …
Relatedly, where are my goddamned flashbacks ?! I was promised flashbacks! (This is a running joke with myself and a couple of friends — if I’m gonna have flashbacks, I want morherfucking acid flashbacks!)
Cuz see, my sources, for everything, have been the sort who try it themselves before playing it for sale to others. So bad acid is not a thing I had to worry about. Excellent acid otoh…*wanders off smiling*
Auggz, was she the budgie who’d been through hell with her beak, and your parents not wanting to take her to the vet, and who was quite jealous of you? Or am I thinking of someone else altogether?
RIP auggz’s birdie friend. I’m sure you gave her a nice happy life (and quietly of old age is perhaps the easiest way to lose a pet…)
Oh gods…speaking of acid and losing pets. I was tripping when I got the call that my 18 year old cat had died. I’d had her since I was too small to remember, and despite knowing 18 was damn old for an outdoor cat, wasn’t ready…well, I took it surprisingly well, and I suspect it was the acid softening it.
Auggz, I’m so sorry, it’s rarely easy, even with the consolation that she had a long happy life and went peacefully.
On a happy personal note: today’s the fifth anniversary of our kinda-wedding. It was more like a wedding reception, because there were certainly no formalities or legalities; needing any kind of authority to acknowledge/formalise a marriage is not a thing across the veil. It was more a gathering and excuse to frock up, and do the “Hey, look, everyone, we’re married!”. A celebration and marking of the marriage. It’s also Louis’s birthday. It was his idea to have the celebration on this day, because his birthday means little or nothing to him now (no wonder, after all this time) but it means something to me, so he thought it’d be a good idea to make it a day special for both of us in the here-and-now.
These are our wedding outfits. The background’s the ballroom at Fontainebleau, not our place. I didn’t have any shots that even vaguely resembled our home when I made this pic, and Fontainebleau being Louis’s birthplace (plus THE most gorgeous palace I’ve ever visited), it seemed an apt choice.
Ah, I was mixing up jealous conure with her, I think.
I’m sorry for your loss.
emilygoddess
11 years ago
Thanks everyone. That shit just lingers in my mind and pops out from time to time, like the world’s worst jack-in-the-box. It was a real question at the time, but my partner took me to dinner and I feel much less terrible now.
Auggz, I’m sorry about your birdie, but right there with you on old age being the best way for them to go. My beloved kitty is 17, and although I worry about her dying, I also know it’ll be because she had a long life, full of love and scritches.
My thoughts half of the time atm. (My brain is screwing with me too atm). Do you feel like explaining what’s wrong (ignore this if you don’t)? Or do you not know?
@Kittehsert
Happy anniversary!
@Everyone who responded to the wheelchair access yay thing
Yeah, I love it. It’s got the good side that since I’m living in an apartment, it didn’t cost us money, since the apartment normally provides accommodations to it’s residents. (though we would’ve been extra screwed if they’ said now)
I asked Louis this morning what he thought of my “catipalist economy” comment. His reaction was one of those “if you roll your eyes any harder they’ll fall out” looks. 😉
Unimaginative
11 years ago
One small mercy: at least it’s not food poisoning, it’s too soon if you were just eating the stuff at the time.
I’ve had food poisoning manifest within an hour of finishing a meal, so it still could be. I also get nauseated and, um, shall we say “loose” when I’m stressed and anxious, so it could be that too. Or a hideous combination of the two.
Wow, everybody seems to be having a rough day (or night). Hugs and internet cookies to anyone who wants them. And Ally, just about every educational institution has a counselling department that’s free to students. Take advantage, even if it’s only to have a safe person to vent to. Having a horrible home-life, even when due to roommates who *aren’t* your parents, sucks up a LOT of mental and emotional energy that you need to get through your classes, and develop your social skills/life/persona.
I ended up turning my plums into cake instead of pickling them. They’d grown wizened and invaded by fruit flies. The cake was delicious, and I miss it. And I just realized that my theatre tickets (for which my date jammed out and I couldn’t find a replacement on short notice) are for tonight, and the show started 15 minutes ago. DAMNIT! Perhaps I’ll make some in-person cookies.
Unimaginative – ah, I thought Ally started vomiting while she was eating the stuff. Yeah, an hour would be ample to make your stomach go, especially while stressed.
TMI innard reacting to stress:
I get the instant diarrhoea reaction, too. As in, within five minutes. Vomiting doesn’t happen often, thank goodness, and the CBT sessions I had with a psychologist a while back helped me get to an “Okay, adrenal system is going to do its thing, vomiting itself isn’t such a problem and the stomach will feel better afterward” stage, instead of the vomiting adding to the stress.
Bipolar coming crashing down and I’m sick so that’s not helping, and I’m like half anxious about being reminded about an abusive ex because of a client at work who really reminds me of him so fml about that because I can’t get away from it, and sick = brain fuzzy as well, and having fuzzy brain means I can’t figure out what to do for coping strategies – usually writing and/or reading and/or art helps, but when fuzzy brain happens no creativity happens so I’m stuck in a awful grey hole without any way to get out and no colours to paint it. Um… yeah.
Also, I don’t deal with anxiety well, because it’s a really new sensation for me. I’ve never had anxiety before, so when it first started last year I wasn’t even sure wtf I was feeling. Now I know but I’ve no ability to deal with it because it’s so new I haven’t developed any ways to do so/any understanding of it… And it’s not like an overwhelming anxiety, I don’t panic and it doesn’t escalate, it just sits static at the bottom of my stomach and back of my throat and tries to slowly kill me (at least, that’s what it feels like).
We Hunted The Mammoth
Emily, everyone deserves to be loved. Anybody who would tell some one that they didn’t deserve to be loved is abusive, regardless of circumstances.
Also, what everyone else said.
Does this friend not have the internet?
Ugh, I hate it when my mind gets hung up on bad things I said/did in the past.
But the fact that you’re thinking about them and you know they were bad means that you’ll be more sensitive in the future. And in general it means that you care about how your actions affect other people and so you’re going to generally be a nice person all the time.
Seconding this.
That’s what happened to one of my step-dad’s friends. He’s in a horrible mental state now, and he still hasn’t left the psychiatric hospital. I could be wrong about it being common, though.
N’thing the comments that Emily is Unterrible.
“What my parents told me” reminds me of something Mum said years ago – that whatever I am, it’s what she and the male parental unit* made me. Not wholly true, of course, but she has a point about the parents doing so much of the shaping of a child. They’re the ones with the power and the responsibility, and they don’t get to worm out of it by blaming a child for what it is.
(I’m presuming we’re not talking about a parent speaking to adult offspring who’s done something vile here; I’d have no trouble with an MRA’s parent tellilng him he’s a terrible person.)
*Mum didn’t call him that, though it occurs to me I should introduce her to the term …
Emily, What everyone else said plus all the hugs.
Relatedly, where are my goddamned flashbacks ?! I was promised flashbacks! (This is a running joke with myself and a couple of friends — if I’m gonna have flashbacks, I want morherfucking acid flashbacks!)
Cuz see, my sources, for everything, have been the sort who try it themselves before playing it for sale to others. So bad acid is not a thing I had to worry about. Excellent acid otoh…*wanders off smiling*
Auggz, was she the budgie who’d been through hell with her beak, and your parents not wanting to take her to the vet, and who was quite jealous of you? Or am I thinking of someone else altogether?
I’m sorry to hear about your featherbaby, Auggz.
RIP auggz’s birdie friend. I’m sure you gave her a nice happy life (and quietly of old age is perhaps the easiest way to lose a pet…)
Oh gods…speaking of acid and losing pets. I was tripping when I got the call that my 18 year old cat had died. I’d had her since I was too small to remember, and despite knowing 18 was damn old for an outdoor cat, wasn’t ready…well, I took it surprisingly well, and I suspect it was the acid softening it.
Auggz, I’m so sorry, it’s rarely easy, even with the consolation that she had a long happy life and went peacefully.
On a happy personal note: today’s the fifth anniversary of our kinda-wedding. It was more like a wedding reception, because there were certainly no formalities or legalities; needing any kind of authority to acknowledge/formalise a marriage is not a thing across the veil. It was more a gathering and excuse to frock up, and do the “Hey, look, everyone, we’re married!”. A celebration and marking of the marriage. It’s also Louis’s birthday. It was his idea to have the celebration on this day, because his birthday means little or nothing to him now (no wonder, after all this time) but it means something to me, so he thought it’d be a good idea to make it a day special for both of us in the here-and-now.
These are our wedding outfits. The background’s the ballroom at Fontainebleau, not our place. I didn’t have any shots that even vaguely resembled our home when I made this pic, and Fontainebleau being Louis’s birthplace (plus THE most gorgeous palace I’ve ever visited), it seemed an apt choice.
Ah, I was mixing up jealous conure with her, I think.
I’m sorry for your loss.
Thanks everyone. That shit just lingers in my mind and pops out from time to time, like the world’s worst jack-in-the-box. It was a real question at the time, but my partner took me to dinner and I feel much less terrible now.
Auggz, I’m sorry about your birdie, but right there with you on old age being the best way for them to go. My beloved kitty is 17, and although I worry about her dying, I also know it’ll be because she had a long life, full of love and scritches.
Do you have pictures? I love budgies <3
I’m sorry to hear that, auggz. :<
Life is miserable. I am sick. Why doesn’t my brain work?
auggz – it worked. She was so pretty!
Auggz, sorry about your bird. Hugs to you, and more hugs to SittieKitty as well!
Also, congrats to Kittehs and her regal dude.
That’s a lovely bird, auggz! I like the blue and white.
@auggzilliary
your bird is so cute. I’m sorry for your loss.
@Sittiekitty
My thoughts half of the time atm. (My brain is screwing with me too atm). Do you feel like explaining what’s wrong (ignore this if you don’t)? Or do you not know?
@Kittehsert
Happy anniversary!
@Everyone who responded to the wheelchair access yay thing
Yeah, I love it. It’s got the good side that since I’m living in an apartment, it didn’t cost us money, since the apartment normally provides accommodations to it’s residents. (though we would’ve been extra screwed if they’ said now)
Thanks, cloudiah, Fade!
I asked Louis this morning what he thought of my “catipalist economy” comment. His reaction was one of those “if you roll your eyes any harder they’ll fall out” looks. 😉
I’ve had food poisoning manifest within an hour of finishing a meal, so it still could be. I also get nauseated and, um, shall we say “loose” when I’m stressed and anxious, so it could be that too. Or a hideous combination of the two.
Wow, everybody seems to be having a rough day (or night). Hugs and internet cookies to anyone who wants them. And Ally, just about every educational institution has a counselling department that’s free to students. Take advantage, even if it’s only to have a safe person to vent to. Having a horrible home-life, even when due to roommates who *aren’t* your parents, sucks up a LOT of mental and emotional energy that you need to get through your classes, and develop your social skills/life/persona.
I ended up turning my plums into cake instead of pickling them. They’d grown wizened and invaded by fruit flies. The cake was delicious, and I miss it. And I just realized that my theatre tickets (for which my date jammed out and I couldn’t find a replacement on short notice) are for tonight, and the show started 15 minutes ago. DAMNIT! Perhaps I’ll make some in-person cookies.
Unimaginative – ah, I thought Ally started vomiting while she was eating the stuff. Yeah, an hour would be ample to make your stomach go, especially while stressed.
TMI innard reacting to stress:
I get the instant diarrhoea reaction, too. As in, within five minutes. Vomiting doesn’t happen often, thank goodness, and the CBT sessions I had with a psychologist a while back helped me get to an “Okay, adrenal system is going to do its thing, vomiting itself isn’t such a problem and the stomach will feel better afterward” stage, instead of the vomiting adding to the stress.
I’m pretty sure I have irritable bowel syndrome.
Fade,
Bipolar coming crashing down and I’m sick so that’s not helping, and I’m like half anxious about being reminded about an abusive ex because of a client at work who really reminds me of him so fml about that because I can’t get away from it, and sick = brain fuzzy as well, and having fuzzy brain means I can’t figure out what to do for coping strategies – usually writing and/or reading and/or art helps, but when fuzzy brain happens no creativity happens so I’m stuck in a awful grey hole without any way to get out and no colours to paint it. Um… yeah.
Also, I don’t deal with anxiety well, because it’s a really new sensation for me. I’ve never had anxiety before, so when it first started last year I wasn’t even sure wtf I was feeling. Now I know but I’ve no ability to deal with it because it’s so new I haven’t developed any ways to do so/any understanding of it… And it’s not like an overwhelming anxiety, I don’t panic and it doesn’t escalate, it just sits static at the bottom of my stomach and back of my throat and tries to slowly kill me (at least, that’s what it feels like).