I'm old now - ganked from somewhere :P

When I was a kid, adults used to bore me to tears with
their tedious diatribes about how hard things were
when they were growing up; what with walking
twenty-five miles to school every morning ... uphill
BOTH ways .. yadda, yadda, yadda

And I remember promising myself that when I grew up,
there was no way in hell I was going to lay a bunch of
crap like that on kids about how hard I had it and how
easy they've got it!

But now that... I'm over the ripe old age of thirty, I
can't help but look around and notice the youth of
today. You've got it so easy! I mean, compared to my
childhood, you live in a damn Utopia!

And I hate to say it but you kids today you don't know
how go od you've got it!

I mean, when I was a kid we didn't have The Internet.
If we wanted to know something, we had to go to the
damn library and look it up ourselves, in the card
catalog!!

There was no email! ! We had to actually write
somebody a letter ...with a pen! Then you had to walk
all the way across the street and put it in the
mailbox and it would take like a week to get there!

There were no MP3's or Napsters! You wanted to steal
music, you had to hitchhike to the damn record store
and shoplift it yourself! Or you had to wait around
all day to tape it off the radio and the DJ'd usually
talk over the beginning and @#*% it all up!


We didn't have fancy crap like Call Waiting! If you
were on the phone and somebody else called they got a
busy signal, that's it! And we didn't have fancy Caller ID Boxes either!
When the phone rang, you had
no idea who it was! It could be your school, your mom,
your boss, your bookie, your drug dealer, a
collections agent, you just didn't know!!! You had to
pick it up and take your chances, mister!

We didn't have any fancy Sony Playstation video games
with high-resolution 3-D graphics! We had the Atari
2600! With games like "Space Invaders" and
"asteroids" and the graphics sucked! Your guy was a
little square! You actually had to use your
imagination! And there were no multiple levels or
screens, it was just one screen forever! And you
could never win. The game just kept getting harder and
harder and faster and faster until you died! Just like
LIFE!

When you went to the movie theater there no such thing
as stadium seating! All the seats were the same height!
If a tall guy or some old broad with a hat sat
in front of you and you couldn't see, you were just
screwed!

Sure, we had cable television, but back then that was
only like 15 channels and there was no onscreen menu
and no remote control! You had to use a little book
called a TV Guide to find out what was on! You were
screwed when it came to channel surfing! You had to
get off your ass and walk over to the TV to change the
channel and there was no Cartoon Network either! You
could only get cartoons on Saturday Morning. Do you
hear what I'm saying!?! We had to wait ALL WEEK for
cartoons, you spoiled little bastards!

And we didn't have microwaves, if we wanted to heat
something up we had to use the stove or go build a
frigging fire ... imagine that! If we wanted popcorn,
we had to use that stupid Jiffy Pop thing and shake it
over the stove forever like an idiot.

That's exactly what I'm talking about! You kids today
have got it too easy. You're spoiled!!!!!!!!!

You guys wouldn't have lasted five minutes back in 1980!

Regards,
The over 30 Crowd

ARIES: "Who's in charge here? I'd like to see God right now, please. Am I dead?
Gee, I never thought that could happen to me!
Where can I get a crystal palace backlit with white light like that one?"
TAURUS: Leaving the body, Taurus realizes that she no longer has a stomach and immediately returns to the body (thud!), without seeing tunnels, light, God, etc., making Taurus skeptical for the rest of her life.
GEMINI: The key thing to the zodiacal twins isn't the experience itself, but how they can embellish it when telling the story (or writing about it). Since Geminis are comfortable in all worlds, except those without telephones, they usually bounce back to the body fairly rapidly-- and the mouth tends to work before the rest of the body comes back to life.
CANCER: Cancerians can live to be 125 years old, and they don't usually have near death experiences, but they can come awfully close to having a near life experience when they get brave and venture out of their house for "supplies."
LEO: "Nooooooo, I am NOT dead. I am not, I am not, I am not . . .
Who are those guys in the white robes? What's that they're singing . . . ? They're off key. I can sing better than that! Where's the choir director? I need a microphone immediately. Unless it's Rolling Stone or Spin, hold my calls."
VIRGO: Working a marathon 60 hours straight, Virgo collapses and leaves the body. She moves through that delightfully clean and sparkling tunnel of light, occasionally reflecting upon possible improvements . . . but soon becomes so worried by the thought of her loved ones "managing" without her that she snaps back into the body like white lightning, sits up, and calmly pronounces herself alive, glancing at her watch.
LIBRA: Floating out of the body, then in, then out, then in, and finally out again . . . Libra sees a tunnel and a vibrant being of light at the other end. "Wow, is that Jesus ? Wait a minute, maybe it's Kwan Yin . That looks like something she'd wear."
Never deciding whether to go through the tunnel (after all, what's death without someone to share it with?) Libra ends up back in the body by default, hounded by a mysterious compulsion to start a dating service for discarnate souls.
SCORPIO: Since most Scorpio's have nine lives, they tend to brainstorm different ways to trigger the near death experience. Once nearly dead, most can barely get to the end of the tunnel without meeting some being with whom they have astral sex.
When asked whom they prefer to greet them on the other side, 75% name a favorite vampire, though Medusa is a strong contender.
SAGITTARIUS: The Sag floats out of his body and has to laugh at the stupid way he bought the farm. After somehow BREAKING the tunnel of light, he absolutely refuses to return to the body, since he's been trying to get out of it for all these years (via clumsy accidents). Because Sag is immensely curious about whether the so-called organized religious have any validity at all, this stroke of luck leads to some amaaaaaazing lessons, until, alas, the astral folks tire of him and trick him into returning to Earth for the duration.
CAPRICORN: It might take Capricorn a little while to realize she is dead because there are special rooms set up to look like executive offices for newly-dead Goats.
A sharp-looking, older gentleman-ghost comes in and gives Cap an instruction manual titled HOW TO PROFIT IN THE ASTRAL MARKETPLACE, plus a "job evaluation" type assessment of Cap's achievements and mistakes over the lifetime, followed by a pink slip (meaning the body revived). Caps tend to return to their bodies quickly, unable to tolerate non-physical existence for long.
AFTER SEX COMMENTS BY SUN SIGN:
Aries: "Okay, let's do it again!"
Taurus: "I'm hungry--pass the pizza."
Gemini: "Have you seen the remote?"
Cancer: "When are we getting married?"
Leo: "Wasn't I fantastic?"
Virgo: "I need to wash the sheets."
Libra: "I liked it if you liked it."
Scorpio: "Perhaps I should untie you."
Sagittarius: "Don't call me--I'll call you."
Capricorn: "Do you have a business card?"
Aquarius: "Now let's try it with our clothes off!"
Pisces: "What did you say your name was again?"

Current reading list, and what I want for my birthday

Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand
Ethical Slut - Dossie Easton & Janet W Hardy
Opening Up - Tristan Taormino
The Girls Who Went Away - Ann Fessler
Fire Study - Maria Snyder
The Lies of Locke Lamora - Scott Lynch
Stranger In a Strange Land - Heinlein
The Study of Language - Yule
Witchcraft: A Mystery Tradition - Raven Grimassi
Freedom from the Known - Jiddu Krishnamurti
This Light in Oneself - Jiddu Krishnamurti
Chesapeake Blue - Nora Roberts

I guess you'd have to say my reading tastes are awfully wide and varied these days. Several recommendations from people, and some that I found on my own that looked interesting, and I've been dipping hard into non-fiction recently. Branching back into fiction shortly, as more stuff shows back up.

I know that people ask me routinely what I want for my birthday. And my standard response is "Nothing." This year, that's not the case. I want one thing, and one thing only. I want amazon gift cards. In any denomination, I care not. But I want, specifically, amazon gift cards. That's it, that's the only thing I want.

The Ethical Slut, Opening Up, and Choices That Lead To Success

*grins wryly* So the first two are actually books I'm reading. The other one is advice from a class I'm currently taking. All three are interesting conceptually. Oh, and there was a very long post as the most recent post online here, and it's been moved and stickied at the bottom of the blog now, with a slideshow above it. It will remain there, until either I get tired of it, or until further notice? I don't know. It was cathartic for me to write, and I feel somewhat better now.

I'll be posting something else a little later, I have a ton of homework due at midnight, that I'm going to go start working on, and a test due Wednesday that I need to print out, and start working on as well. I will write other things, pertaining to my current life, and not my old one, when I have more time, and more inclination, but for right now, things are just sort of drifting along.

And I desperately want ice cream.

Golf balls, ping pong balls, and oligoastrocytoma

The echoes of my past, that reverberate in my head. Blank spaces filled with nothing more than vague thoughts when I'm lucky, or unlucky if the case may be. Yet another person, who I almost recall. And yet again, what I remember doesn't match. And as they wish, I won't approach again, won't disturb their life, because I have no idea what harm I might have done. My vague memories weren't negative ones, but it would appear those aren't the dominant ones. Nothing new there, right?

But it never stops hurting. Did I do anything at all when I was younger that marked me as anything else but damaged? Did I truly wreak so much havoc and destruction that there is nothing and no one who can remember anything else of me? Because I'm beginning to believe that might actually be the case, that there are no redeeming qualities about me at all. And perhaps being who I am now isn't enough to make up for whatever it is that I did then, to make me so universally despised.

And you know what? Now we're going to take a little stroll down some reading that most of you won't even bother looking at past this point. And that's fine. It's mostly for me, anyway. You might learn something about me, if you do. Something about who I am, and what I've been through, and how I came to be me, now, today. Hell, my parents might even learn something educational on this little stroll. No, I'm not making excuses for the fact that I was a colossal asshole when I was younger, because I was. This has nothing to do with that. But I am very nearly thirty-two years old. And getting judged for things I did when I was seventeen, eighteen, or younger, is starting to get old. Things I did half a lifetime ago, during a time period when I was apparently *literally* not me.

Observe. For those of us joining the party right now, hello there, I'm Controversy, and I'm a cancer survivor. I had a malignant oligoastrocytoma, grade 4, which is usually terminal. I was incredibly lucky. On April 5, 2009, I will be moved into the "survivor" category, meaning I have achieved 5 years without recurrence of the tumor.

And while I was lucky, and I'm alive, I lost many things when they took the tumor out. Some of them were good. But among those things, were a lot of my memory. Again, observe: This is how the brain looks. In my case, my tumor was the size of a golf ball, or very near. It was 3.9 cm. A golf ball is 4.2 cm. If you've ever seen one, while they're not huge, to hold in your hand? Imagine that, inside of your brain. And my tumor was between the temporal and parietal lobes. If you put a golf ball in between those two lobes, as the link shows you of your brain? It will push on *damn near everything*. When your frontal lobe, temporal lobe, and parietal lobe all become impacted, and then two of the three have a very large section removed entirely, you end up with this: Before the tumor is taken out, while everything is still shoved every-which-way to try to accommodate the extra mass inside of the skull itself, you have blinding migraines.

You ever think you have a headache? Rest assured, you have nothing once you put an extra golf ball or so, inside your skull, along with the pulsing, pounding blood coursing up there, making everything want to black out, and scream in agony. Twenty-four-hours a day, sometimes seven days a week. And there is nowhere for the pressure to be released. It simply is blinding pain, and no amount of narcotics, or migraine medication, or anti-inflammatory made can help take down the swelling of a brain tumor, inside of your skull. And that much pain, constant pain, will make almost anyone unstable.

But that actually isn't even the biggest problem. The major difficulty is that the extra mass pushes on actual functional brain tissue, which is designed to be doing other things, and is, in fact, causing various extra things to take place. Across the spectrum, because of that extra compression, and as the tumor grows, it will cause an entire range of responses.

The extra pressure on the frontal lobe can result in a variety of things, including lack of facial expression, difficulty speaking, thinking, aberrant sexual behavior are all among the problems.

Extra pressure on the temporal lobe can result in verbal, auditory language and speech problems, perception problems, trouble with sexual behavior, personality and affective issues. Now, if you're also having seizures that effect your temporal lobes, you can also throw in there, serious aggressive rages, paranoia and perseverative speech difficulties. The temporal lobes are the ones that are highly associated with memory as well. Just to add to all the fun.

And now we're at the parietal lobe, which controls the ability to recognize the world around you.

That was actually pretty simplified, and now I'm going to do the whole step-by-step tedious thing here, on "what happens when you *take the tumor out*". Because that's an entire different ball of wax, to be honest. It was enough of a pain in the ass for me, and my life, with the extra golf ball up there, as it made me unpredictable, in pain, and unable to recall things, among other refinements. Gods help the poor people who actually came into contact with me, depending on whether or not I was "Good Controversy" or "Bad Controversy" on any given day, hour, minute, second of whichever given day. Because I evidently did indeed change personalities the way 'normal' (and I grant that normal is somewhat variable) people take breaths of oxygen.

We've established that I had an oligoastrocytoma, it was *between* my left temporal and parietal lobes. What that means, in plain English, is that when they took it out, damage to the left parietal lobe specifically causes several things, in my case I got 'speech aphasia', trouble writing things down, known as transference, and some trouble with math. I also got damage to the section in between the temporal-parietal lobe that causes memory damage, in my case a lot of long-term memory is gone, and my ability to retain what I learn has been impaired. That aspect of what's considered 'short-term' memory has been altered, although with repetition I can encode it differently than I used to. My basic personality may or may not have altered, but the only persons who can say that with confidence aren't me. Because *I* don't remember. My left temporal damage was affected by the removal verbally in so much as I retain information better if it's written down, than I do if I hear it now. My speech was affected, and when I'm upset, my aphasia is terrible, as a direct result of the removal. As for the frontal lobe the most extensive damage that occurred to me there, after the tumor removal, was to my memory. A brain surgery is considered a "traumatic brain injury", and the effects of TBI on all lobes are variable. In my case, my memory has never recovered. Sometimes, seeing faces, talking to people, will occasionally make an association. It's rare, but it happens. But that's the biggest thing that's been long-lasting from the TBI that happened to my frontal lobe, the part that was most damaged from the tumor itself. The others were a physical removal, when they did the resection, but the frontal lobe damage was from the pressure, and what was shoved out of place from the extra mass inside my skull, and it has never recovered. There is no expectation that it will be any better than it is today.

I have to cope with that. And I'm aware that it's hard to believe, that it would be easier to doubt me. I was a fucked-up teenager. I was apparently a completely shitty person. Out of control, a total ass. How much of that was simply my personality, and how much of it was because my personality was influenced by the impulse centers in my brain having a golf ball pushing on them, I'll never actually know. And it doesn't honestly matter anymore. I'm almost thirty-two years old. I haven't been a teenager for twelve years. Anyone who actually *knows* me, today? And still doesn't quite believe the story of my demented little trip down brain-surgery-alley, I suppose I can show you the disgusting photos we took right after the resection, with my head half shaved, and stapled together to keep my gorgeous titanium skull from gleaming in the sunshine. The puncture wounds from the IV that kept me alive while they put a saw into my head and lifted off half my skull, which they never bothered putting back, because the recurrence rate on my tumor is so high, they know that chances are they'll need to go back in at some point, to try and take more out. It was easier to just need to unscrew the plate they put on, than to need to saw my skull back off again.

*This* is my life, and these are the realities that I face, every single day. What I can't remember, and who I was are difficult for me to swallow, much less stomach, being that I have trouble putting the person that I *am* in context with the person people tell me that I was. And oh, yes, I accept it. And I apologize for it. I have apologized until I am blue in the face. But it hurts, over and over and over. How long am I supposed to pay, for a crime I cannot remember committing, and to whom do I apologize, when I look at you, and don't actively recall wounding you?

This is me. I have the proof on my scalp, inside of me. What more is there?

Hmm, updates from all over

Still can't decide whether or not I was being questioned about my thoughts, or being questioned about whether or not I knew what I was actually talking about. I'm not altogether certain it matters overly much, except in my own mind. I'm feeling a little raw at the moment, and am given to taking offense easily, so it may just be me right now. Hair-trigger temper and whatnot. In other news, having nothing to do with my ridiculously short temper, and my inability to control it:

I *finally* have managed to catch up, and grasp, what's going on in the linguistics course I'm taking. Gods be blessed, it only took eight chapters for me to stop feeling like the proverbial town idiot. Well, perhaps that's an exaggeration. I stopped feeling like the town fool around chapter six, and now feel more or less comfortable with the material in chapter eight. Unfortunately, I still need to take/pass the tests for chapters six and seven. Should smooth after that though, which will make my life a lot less stressful.

Psyche is still going beautifully, and I really like the course. And the professor who teaches it. She's terrific. The other classes? Well, I'm passing them, that's all I have to say for them. They're there, and you gotta go, right? Such is life.

I'm enrolled for the fall semester, thanks to my absolutely fabulous guidance counselor. She is indeed well-suited to her profession, and while I'd love to say that's a job I'd like, I don't think I have the patience to do it. Well, there's that, and the fact that I have absolutely no idea what one would need to do to pursue such a career. I wouldn't want to be a regular counselor, I'd want to do specifically what she does, which is work with students like me, and I don't think you get to pick and choose among the student-body group like that. I know she specializes in my group subset, which is awesome, but I doubt that's all she does.

Count 'em out, people, I'm enrolled for 16 units for the fall semester. Because I'm cool :P Or crazy. Possibly both. Most likely both, as a matter of fact. I'm actually running late on going out tonight, to be writing this journal entry, simply because this is more soothing that my original plans. Tomorrow will be a day of study, followed by introspection. And Monday is most decidedly a day of tests. Lots and lots of flaming tests. Evidently whoever is in charge has decided to see how well I can hold up under pressure, and Monday will be that testing day.

Unfortunately, I *still* have a mountain of keyboarding to work my way through, like 9 assignments that I am absolutely lagging on, and I know that I'm procrastinating on them, but they are frustrating me to absolutely no end, which is why I keep ignoring them. I will actually buckle down and do them tomorrow, and work my way through the other assignments that are drifting about as well, just to get it out of the way. I have a few things I need to be able to focus solidly on next week, and my attention needs to be undivided for that.

For those of you who have asked, and I haven't been very forthcoming about it, here are the current updates from all over: My MRI and bone scan came back flawless. All systems are currently go with that, it would appear that I am in full functional (as good as it gets at any rate) condition. The batch of lab work that was run two weeks ago, for the bloodwork that was sent out to San Francisco's lab, for the various standardized CBC panel, and the more complex cancer workup that they have available there, those results should have been back in last Tuesday. They were not. When I called to try and find out why I didn't get the results back on time, all they could tell me was that something went wrong, and the test was being re-run, and I need to give another complete batch to be resent. Unfortunately, another complete batch means that I have to wait until next Wednesday for me to have created enough to be able to give a full draw. All *I* know is that something is either really, really out of whack, or what they had to work with got contaminated. And no one can actually give me a straight answer, because they'd be idiots to admit they mishandled the samples.

Essentially, I'm sitting around quietly trying to not rip my hair out, and not panic while I wait for it to be Wednesday so they can get the results slammed through. They're running out of time, and everything needs to go smoothly. I believe the term here is "down to the wire", followed closely by "go-time". I don't know what will happen, exactly, if those results don't come back with an all-clear. I *do* know, that as it stands right now, I do *not* have a tumor, or a speck of a tumor, inside of my head. That alone should be enough to be able to sign off for everything to roll smoothly on the fifth. But I don't know for certain whether or not they're thinking I might have managed to get something new someplace else. And wondering is sort of sucking right now.

Danny wanted to know today how I'm holding up, or if I'm scared, and my response was that it doesn't matter how I'm holding up, or whether or not I'm afraid. It has to be done, and there isn't anyone else who can do it, except me. There's not someone who can hold my hand, and make it easier for me, and do it for me. There's just not. At this point, I'm not even certain that I want there to be. The one thing I've learned in the last eighteen months is that the one person that I can depend on unfailingly, is myself. When it's difficult, and it hurts, and I feel like things are going to break into a million pieces, I can still pull it together, and depend on myself. It's not fun, it's not easy, and it never gets easier. But looking to depend on others is a really good way to get let down, at a time when I really can't handle anything else.

And that's not to say that I'm not slowly learning to trust anyone, because in all honesty, I am. But it's going to be a long, slow, uphill road. I'm not in a hurry to find what I once was looking for. I'm more content these days, to enjoy the company of others, without necessarily trying to have it be anything more than that. Things that I can feel beneath the surface, I choose to ignore most of the time now. I wonder, if what I ignore, is what most other people never actually feel to begin with? Perhaps that would be easier...

Perspectives, multiple perspectives, and miscommunication sucks

(12:21:32 PM) xxx: What is your take on Gods?
(12:21:51 PM) xxx: and Goddesses etc.
(12:21:57 PM) xxx: How do you define them?
(12:25:20 PM) Controversy2317: explain what you're asking?
(12:27:22 PM) xxx: Does your family worship anything?
(12:28:11 PM) Controversy2317: yes
(12:28:33 PM) Controversy2317: And I'd rather not elaborate on the list of it unless I have a reason to be doing a ritual with you...
(12:31:50 PM) Controversy2317: I'm sorry
(12:38:14 PM) xxx: I'm not asking who.
(12:38:23 PM) xxx: I'm asking what. What is a God?
(12:38:51 PM) Controversy2317:
(12:39:31 PM) Controversy2317: As in "Is a God an all-seeing-all-knowing entity that dictates our lives?"
(12:39:49 PM) xxx: Do you need more time to research the answer?
(12:39:52 PM) Controversy2317: no
(12:39:57 PM) Controversy2317: I'm trying to follow the question
(12:40:07 PM) Controversy2317: A god isn't a thing
(12:40:25 PM) Controversy2317: for me, a god or goddess is a part of me, something more than me
(12:40:36 PM) Controversy2317: that gives me answers to things I don't understand
(12:41:22 PM) Controversy2317: I don't think I've ever had anyone phrase the question that way
(12:42:01 PM) Controversy2317: http://www.schuylersmonsterblog.com/
(12:42:10 PM) Controversy2317: and *that* is what I'm currently reading, just FYI
(12:42:14 PM) Controversy2317: I wasn't looking something up
(12:51:36 PM) xxx: It is a subjective question, I don't believe there is a right answer.
(12:51:41 PM) xxx: Just curios what your take was.


^^^^^
And a different conversation with someone else, in the same vein from a different perspective.

^^^^^
(3:51:04 PM) cc: Hey
(3:51:07 PM) cc: someone asked me today:
(3:51:16 PM) cc: and I'd like to see your response to this same question
(3:51:42 PM) cc: What's your take on Gods? and Godesses etc. How do you define them? Do you worship anything?
(3:52:53 PM) zzz: i define them as greater more powerful more knowledgeable kinsmen
(3:53:01 PM) zzz: do i worship them?/ not as most people recognize the term
(3:53:38 PM) cc: ok
(3:54:10 PM) cc: My response was "yes" and "I'd rather not elaborate on the list of it unless I have a reason to be doing a ritual with you...I'm sorry"
(3:54:30 PM) cc: he followed with "i'm not asking who I'm asking what"
(3:54:49 PM) cc: What is a God?
(3:55:43 PM) cc: so I said "As in "Is a God an all-seeing-all-knowing entity that dictates our lives?"
(3:55:58 PM) cc: and he seemed to be mocking me "Do you need more time to research the answer?"
(3:56:11 PM) cc: I was actually trying to follow the question
(3:56:36 PM) cc: so he ended up getting this
(3:56:47 PM) zzz: i need to know if they're asking whaht is a god based on the judeo-christian and/or islamic tradition, or one of the others
(3:56:53 PM) cc: 12:39:52 PM) Controversy2317: no
(12:39:57 PM) Controversy2317: I'm trying to follow the question
(12:40:07 PM) Controversy2317: A god isn't a thing
(12:40:25 PM) Controversy2317: for me, a god or goddess is a part of me, something more than me
(12:40:36 PM) Controversy2317: that gives me answers to things I don't understand
(12:41:22 PM) Controversy2317: I don't think I've ever had anyone phrase the question that way
(3:57:07 PM) cc: Yeah
(3:57:12 PM) cc: he's pagan
(3:57:19 PM) cc: which is why I wasn't sure what he was asking
(3:57:38 PM) zzz: to some people, god is a manifestation of the inner self
(3:57:42 PM) zzz: and for them i guess that's just fine
(3:57:49 PM) zzz: it's a projection of the inner divine
(3:57:53 PM) zzz: which i actually agree with
(3:57:57 PM) zzz: but ti goes a lot farther than that
(3:57:59 PM) zzz: my wife is a goddess
(3:58:08 PM) zzz: she has that inner divine
(3:58:17 PM) zzz: there isi something sacred and precious and noble within her
(3:58:27 PM) zzz: something that only a woman can have, and that all women CAN have, but not all do
(3:58:32 PM) cc: I believe in reincarnation, self, previous self, etc
(3:58:51 PM) cc: so of course there would be pieces inside of me that can be and are tapped back for answers
(4:00:14 PM) cc: by the same token, I firmly believe that there are gods to whom I am praying to for guidance, for help for a variety of things, external of me, that help me
(4:00:26 PM) cc: and the same goes for goddesses
(4:00:47 PM) cc: which I would have explained to him, except that he'd already poked at me with the snark of "need to look it up?"
(4:01:14 PM) cc: No, I'm not going and looking anything up, I'm trying to figure out what the hell you're even asking :(
(4:01:25 PM) zzz: i speak to my Gods ever day. i ask for guidance. i ask them to watch over my family. i request assistannce and information. sometimes we just talk, and sometimes i beseech. it just depends on my mood. and theirs.

"and everything you hoped would last - just always becomes your past (it hurts)"

It has a certain truth to it, sad though that might be. Everything must always give way, and the present becomes the past whether you choose for that to be the case or not. Certainly you can celebrate each joy and each passion for what they are, and you can pursue each love with everything inside of you. That is the right of each person, to clasp to their heart what means most to them, and cherish it.

Yet in the end, time moves steadily forward, and each moment drifts into the next, and the brilliant flash of colour that lit up the world, when it meant so much, and while everything was swamping your emotions, will move into the next moment in time. And that flash will become yesterday, and all the yesterdays before. And it will be a memory, instead of the reality that is right now.

Not that a memory is bad, or something unworthy. But you cannot hold it in your hands. There is no way to reach out your hands and touch a memory, and feel it beneath your palms, and feel the texture against them. You cannot smell crispness in the air, or hear music pounding in your ears. There is no substitute for what goes on while you are building what will then become the future memory.

I have cried, screamed, and been frustrated recently, railing against myself. Against many things, maybe even against the gods, for making what seems to me to be so difficult. I am angry, I have been angry, a great deal of the time lately. My memory, my lack of memory, angers me. And it is a rare thing, for me to rail against that, because I had long since stopped fighting a battle that I knew I could not win, where my memory was concerned.

For the most part, I simply try to not think about it. It does me no good, to focus on something I have no control over, that I have long since lost. Sometimes, I fail. For the last few weeks, I have been an epic failure on that front, and I go around and around in my head, wanting nothing more than to have back what I have no access to, to understand what is missing inside of my mind. I want to be able to work through the puzzle inside of my brain, the way I can puzzle out the missing pieces of other things that do not make sense in the world around me.

I should not be complaining. It could be a lot worse, and it galls me that I sit around feeling this sorry for myself. I can look at myself objectively, and I know that I could have it a lot worse, and I should simply shut up, and be grateful. I am grateful, truth be told. But being thankful for what I have, does not seem to make it so I do not long for what I miss. And it does not make it easier right now, as the beginning of April creeps inexorably closer.

Would I do everything again? Because someone is inevitably going to ask that question. Knowing now, what I know, would I allow it, would I do it again? Make the same choice, to have this end result? Yes, I suppose I would. There needs to be better support in place as after care. Not physically, but emotionally. Being the only one is isolating, and extremely difficult. I do not even want to think about how bad it might be for a child. There are a great many things that could have been done, and should *be* done, to make that transition easier. And, as unfortunate as it is, I do not want to be the one who helps to lead that charge. I did what I needed to do, and my part is over now. I will speak long enough to help convey my thoughts on how to set up such support groups, and give my input on exactly how isolated it feels to lose as much of myself as I did, and hope that will help them, to help someone else. After that, I no longer want to be on display, or be an example.

I never asked for this. I am told that I am a much better person now, than the person I was before. That is a good thing. I actually do not much like the person that I was, and am content to leave her behind. But none of that changes the fact that I never asked for it. And living my life, from the point of surgery forward, while trying to deal with people from my past, has been incredibly difficult. It has been painful, and trying and in some cases emotionally devastating. I walk blindfolded through a minefield, hoping that I am on the path that is safe, with no real way to tell whether or not I am.

No one mentioned any possibility of memory loss, before they cut into my skull. Hearing loss, lack of motor skills, possibility of paralysis. Not being able to speak, or read, or write. They even offered up possibility of dying. But nowhere in there did anyone say that they would take my memories away. Or that they would leave only the terrible ones. Had I known then, that memory is stored differently, good and bad, retrieved differently, or that doing the surgery could take it away? I honestly do not know what my response would have been. I most likely would have let them do it anyway. But at least I would have known what the possibilities were.

And I would have been better equipped to deal with what I deal with now. And they need to know, and understand that. Yes, they did a phenomenal job, and I have never said otherwise. I am alive, and grateful for every single extra day. But for every person who comes after me now, this is the reality they too might face, and a life like this is not simple, it is not easy, and it *is* something that needs to be prepared for the possibility of.

I feel empty, frequently. Alone when I look at people, and wonder if I should have memories of times spent together, happy things or times gone by that they know and I do not. I am solitary now, by choice, because being alone is easier than being with people and constantly questioning myself and feeling empty or hurting because of that emptiness.

The only people I am truly comfortable with, are people that are utterly new to me, that I know had no connection to me 'before'. I prefer my life that way, simply because it makes things easier on me. I know there is no hollow feeling inside of me, there is simply the knowledge that I can build memories with this new person, because there are no 'old' memories lost or shared. The few, rare, people who I am happy around reflect that. And not all new people are people I like. But there are some, and I appreciate them. Being "different" means I am not inclined to warm up to strangers quickly, and am uncomfortable with groups.

Groups mean the possibility of strangers who may or may not be strangers. The amount of stress I have been under for the last few weeks is the direct result of the huge group of people I will need to deal with at the beginning of next month. I know I can handle it. Knowing I can does not make it any less uncomfortable for me. It does not make it any easier, and it does not make me any less apprehensive. And I am simply marking my way through each day, until I can get past it, and close out that chapter, and then...what? That is the part I am unsure of.

After I come home, I do not know what I will be doing. I have spent five years, waiting for that day, and after it, I simply do not know what I will do. I will no longer be waiting, but I am unsure who I will be then. Still me, but what happens after?

"you know they say you can't take it with you when you go, but I don't believe it"

The post topic line is actually a line from a song, that I think is by Phil Collins? I might be wrong though. I've had it sort of playing on repeat in my head all day, but I have earplugs in, so it isn't as though I'm actually hearing the song. And I don't know offhand all of the lyrics, just a few. Kind of peculiar, if you ask me. Not that anyone is actually asking me anything, since I can't hear anything (which trust me, is a blessing to me, and anyone who happens to have to deal with me today).

I know that at the best of times, I can be warm, loving, caring and compassionate. Supportive, exuberant, uplifting and playful. I *can be* a lot of fun. At the worst? I'm argumentative and pessimistic and have the frustrating habit of zeroing in on any and all flaws in an argument, and picking them apart one by one.

I can make someone absolutely crazy, and want to beat me over the head in sheer frustration, when it seems for all the world as though I'm intentionally being difficult or missing the point. I'm actually not, usually, unless we're already in the middle of a pissing contest to prove something. And even then, for the most part lately, I'll just back down because I'm not much interested in winning any contests these days. Some of my competitive spirit isn't as strong as it used to be. Mostly I challenge myself, not others. Where was I going with this?

Oh, yes. Me being a pain in the ass. And missing the point. I know it frustrates people, when I seem to be missing the point. Been happening a lot lately. When I can't quite wrap my head around an idea, or a problem, or even a freaking school assignment, I just get frustrated, and it leads to being confused, and then exasperated, primarily with myself. And the more someone tries to explain it, the more upset I seem to get sometimes, because it actually ends up with me feeling attacked, whether or not it's valid. And it bothers me, how fast I get defensive. I know I'm not actually being attacked.

I'm sort of surprised my computer has survived this semester, with how often I've been frustrated with my classes. No matter how often I attempt some of the assignments, I'm still confused. And I attempt to get help, and more often than not, I end up still lost, and then feel stupid as the tutors end up throwing their hands up in frustration with me, thinking I'm simply ignoring what they're saying, when that isn't the case at all. I just can't make what they're saying line up in my head, to make any sense to me with the textbook. And it sucks. So I keep trying, in the hope that if they try a different approach, it will make sense, and then I will understand, and I won't be confused anymore. But I think they're under the impression that I'm just ignoring what they're saying entirely, and it's some kind of joke. And that blows chunks.

Am I just doing it wrong? Do I just pretend for everyone's sake that I understand what I don't? Smile and nod agreeably, so that no one is frustrated when I can't make my mind do what I want it to do? Or do I drive everyone crazy by asking the same question a dozen times, in different ways, in the hope that one of those ways is going to trigger something so it will make it so I can grasp it?

Random

Ezzie must know that something is driving me crazy, because he's absolutely crawling all over me, trying to cuddle. And while I appreciate his support, it's making it rather difficult to type, or get anything else accomplished either. We'll go to bed in a few minutes, after I finish writing this post, because it's late, and I'm sleepy.

The headsets for my cell phones are *both* broken, which means I need to go and get a replacement model, as I can't drive/talk without one, and that isn't going to work for me for very long. I'll have to either order one in the next couple of days, or go to the Tmobile or AT&T store on Monday. Not sure which yet, I can't quite decide. I have two headsets, but I really only like one of them, and I'm not sure that the model I like best is still for sale locally, or if I can only get it online. Much the suck.

I *think* I'm going to be taking a slight hiatus from school this summer, I won't know for absolute certain until after I talk to my counselor on the 30th, but I think that's what's going to happen. So I'm going to be working this summer instead, doing what I was doing before I started school again. And I'm looking into getting a regular job, if I can get hired, as a seasonal thing in September/October. If that pans out, it'll mean I work from February-ish, through May, or thereabouts. But the upside is that it'll bring in enough money to supplement what I'd need without me stressing about money in any capacity. It's just something for me to think about. I'm going to be talking to a few other people, and to the vocational rehab training people if and when I move, to see if there are programs available to me that I might have missed. I want to see what's available now, that wasn't four years ago.

And it might not work. I might not even be capable, and I know and accept that, it's a risk that I'm taking, but it might be worth it in the long run, and so I'm willing to try. I've been doing a lot of that lately, taking risks to see how things might pan out, to see if I can be happier. Some of them have worked, and some haven't.

And in the end, it's all been worth the risk, even if it didn't necessarily go the way I'd hoped. And I finally see that I'm okay with it.

My life isn't ever going to look like any cookie cutter traditional version of happiness. There isn't going to be a husband and 2.5 children, with a house, and a yard, and a dog and a cat. There aren't going to be family picnics and anniversaries and holidays with gifts and people sitting around a table.

That isn't me. Maybe it could have been, but that's the life I chose to walk away from, and the life that gives me happiness actually doesn't include anything in that description except my cat. Right now everything is completely out of control with my emotions, and it's kind of swamping me. A lot of that has to do with stress, and my needing to simply get through until April 7th, and then I'll be able to get back to some kind of baseline. For good or ill, my emotions are going to keep flying from high to low until then, while I wait for the storm to pass and to clear that five year mark.

I am living inside of my own head a lot these days, words rushing around in circles, to the point that I sometimes think I might just start screaming if it doesn't stop. Someone had told me how to make it stop, and now I can't remember what they said. Which is frustrating in the extreme, because I never remember to ask when it's actually happening. Hey you, if you're reading this? I can't make it stop, and my brain is going crazy. Tell me again how to shut everything out. :(

Realistic Limitations

I wonder sometimes if people who don't have any type of handicaps ever really stop to think about what it feels like for those of us who do. And I don't mean just give the politically correct line where everyone is equal, and should be treated that way.

That's all well and good in theory, and I appreciate the sentiment, and I actually work incredibly hard to *be* on equal footing, not using things to my advantage where school is concerned, or abusing my handicaps unless I absolutely need it for parking on a really bad day physically. Because I don't like the fact that I actually do have limitations, and those limits cause me incredible pain, both physically and psychologically, a great deal of the time.

And I can't help but think that perhaps because I do a really good job at not focusing on my limitation, people don't stop and consider at all the fact that it's there. I have a major and severe neurological limitation, and I'm always going to. I can put on a wonderful show, and for all intents and purposes, most people will never notice that anything is wrong with me. I'll simply be a little quiet, or my words will be a little off. I'll forget a few things here and there, or mix up the occasional sentence. And the more upset I get, and the more frustrated, the quieter I'll get. And the worse things get for me. My speech will stop functioning for me entirely, at a certain point, and I'll become so flustered that I won't be able to function until I calm down. The neurons that should fire across and let me think clearly, and communicate, simply shut down.

Stress, all stress, causes my brain to misfire. When my pain levels go up, things get more difficult for me to think clearly, and I have a permanent injury that causes pain. And I still manage for the most part to lead a normal life, and handle most things. But the combination of regular daily stress, and my normal daily life simply means that I can't handle a whole lot on top of that.

And because of it, I avoid people and places who make me uncomfortable, because as soon as I get agitated, I know from experience there's a really good chance I'll stop being able to speak. And then it'll have a snowball effect of feeling like a freak, which simply makes me feel more agitated, and it compounds itself. And I have no way at all to communicate any of that, unless there's someone with me who speaks my broken language, and who I know understands me.

I have spent five years avoiding new people and new places like the plague, for fear of being humiliated. It only took one time of losing my speech and being mocked severely and ridiculed, for me to never want to go out in public again. I don't like being put on the spot, don't like speaking in public, and have a deep-rooted fear of strangers.

And for me? Everyone is essentially a stranger. I only have the people that I've kept over the last five years. There isn't anyone before that, and I don't like dealing constantly with people who seem to take some sort of perverse pleasure in wounding me. Yes, I was a jerk. I get it. I can't change it. I don't remember it, and unfortunately, there's no apology I can even give that's going to mean anything for actions I don't remember, about people I don't remember.

Every time I take a few timid steps out of my shell, I end up getting slapped back by someone or something so abruptly that it makes me simply want to stop bothering trying. I like the internet, and the ability it gives me to get to know people one-on-one, and not be overwhelmed by trying to use my speech first. And for the ability it gives me for them to know me, without being judged for the failures of who I used to be. By the time I meet people in person, I've at least usually warned them that there's a chance my speech will be odd. And I don't hide things about myself, either, but the dynamics of getting to know someone over a keyboard are different.

I prefer it this way. I have words. I have thousands of words, as evidenced by all the writing I do here, there and everywhere in between. I love to write, to express myself. But I can't always get those out the way I want to in any other way than to write them all down. My brain isn't wired that way anymore. It never will be again, and that's something I had to learn to accept. I was able to learn to be functional again, and that was fine. I can go to school, can study for classes, can still read a book.

Except in much the same way I now have transference issues that prevent me from looking at a test and not being able to take the information on one sheet of paper, and putting it onto a Scan-Tron, I now have a transference issue that sometimes prevents me from taking information inside of my mind, and getting that information out of my mouth correctly. That's just how I am now.

But to someone who has no such limitations, that concept is impossible. The idea of a brain that can't process information the way I want it to is probably impossible. My sister laughed at me one day, as I typed in frustration to her "THIS!!!" And she wanted to know what "THIS!!!" was. I meant to be typing "SHIT". I had all the characters, they were in the wrong order. I often speak words the same way. I have the information, and it comes out the wrong way. It isn't intentional. But unless I say nothing at all, sometimes what comes out isn't always what I planned. As a result? I often say nothing at all. And that's fine for me, because being quiet is normal. I like listening and hearing what other people have to say.

And now, while therapeutic to a certain extent, I'm sleepy. I've had a long and frustrating day. Waiting to hear back, as I can be very impatient, has been wearing on me. Even if the answer is 'no', I still have no patience for the actual waiting. So I will take my leave, and go and rest for a while. I have a mountain of homework to attend to in the morning, and a paper to write. And egads, the keyboarding I've been trying to pretend I could avoid forever, even though I knew that wasn't going to work.

I am unsure what I'm going to do to sort out the issues in my life. I know for certain that I won't continue to drive myself crazy. There's no point to it. I don't need the stress, I'll have enough of that coming up shortly as it is. The last batch of tests will be back shortly, and I have one last set of scans to go in and have run before I head out for San Francisco at the beginning of April. I'm already nervous enough about that, without adding anything else into the mix. Mostly, I just want peace.

Interesting. Controversy2317 was hacked today

The password was changed, and I find that rather interesting. I'm not particularly having an aneurysm or anything, but I obviously hit a nerve somewhere if someone was upset enough to try and hack into my account. Not that it was altogether difficult to go and access that account, actually. It's been reset now, and it's not nearly as simple to access. But c'est la vie.

I write primarily for my own amusement, and to sort my own thoughts out, and sometimes to reflect on whatever I've run across that might be of interest to others. I also, recently, updated all of my accounts to simultaneously run as "Controversy", so that everything is tied together. It was for precautionary purposes, somewhat of a precognition that I needed to cover myself. Turns out that I was correct in that estimation.

I'm still not taking my blog offline. If anything, it tells me that people are probably reading a little too much in to what I've got to say. People in my life who matter to me, know who I'm referencing, when I write something that's obscure or ambiguous. If it's meant for them, I tell them. For everyone else, this has always been, and will remain, simply an outlet for me, and isn't meant to be anything more than that.

As always, I appreciate feedback, and the blog will remain moderated. I read everything that is commented, whether it appears here for the masses or not. And again, as always, I appreciate the fact that so many people continue to find my writing interesting enough to continue to follow my posts. But lastly, if you don't like what you see, or if my writing is offensive to you in some way, you have the option of simply not returning to this page, and not electing to keep reading. That's easily up to you. I'm not going to stop voicing my opinions, nor will I edit what I say.

Have a good night, internets.

Things you should never do to your partner

This should be a no-brainer, right? Really, it should. The most important thing in the world that you should never do to your partner is lie. Ever. I heard that recently, and there was a point after it, and I agree with the sentiment. It's very simple, and yet when confronted with this very simple statement, almost everyone is going to immediately start backing away and in one fashion or another make statements such as "But what if I", or "well, if this". These are excuses, and basically what it boils down to is that you're setting up an escape hatch. A clear-cut exit path, so you can talk your way out of something later, if necessary.

And the truth is that if you're going to trust anyone, your partner is going to be that person. The person you love, and who loves you, is going to be the person who is the least likely to be out to get you, or trying to hurt you. So either you're going to trust them, or you're not. And if you are, then tell them the truth. Don't lie to them. It's clear-cut. It's easy. Be honest. Be honest with yourself. Be honest with them, and consciously remember that the easiest way to keep communication open and honest, is to not lie in the first place.

You don't have to figure out what story you told about anything. There's nothing to keep straight if you aren't lying about anything. Tell the truth. Nothing is going to end up making your partner feel worse than knowing that they weren't important enough to have your honesty. It's a lousy feeling, knowing that you're not trusted enough to have the truth told to you by someone who claims to love you.

They'll feel used, betrayed and angry, all of which would be justified. None of which would even be an issue, if there was no lying involved in your relationship in the first place. And it's so easy, telling the truth. No secrets, no manipulations.

My personal favorite are 'lies of omission'. And yes, those are lies too. Don't lie. It's still a lie if you know something that you're fully aware would bother your partner, and you leave that information out. That's manipulating circumstances for your own gain, and it's lying. Don't lie.

And while we're on the subject, don't manipulate for your own gain, either. It's just not very nice. But don't lie. And remember to brush your teeth. And feed your pets. And take out the trash, sweep the floor, and go plant a tree. :P

This is my public service announcement for the day :)

The fantasy game

It's kind of lousy, right? Being the person who exists solely as a part of a fantasy? I should know, I've spent an awful lot of time being that person. Also known as "dirty little secret", "don't worry, I'll tell her when the time is right", "I just need to figure out how to make it all work so no one gets hurt", or variations on that same theme.

The end result always seems to be the same. Maybe it's just that men only want me if they can sneak around to have me. And it seems that it doesn't need to involve sex, always. Any degree of hidden or sneaky seems to do it for them. I just don't get it.

What is so awful about being seen talking to me? You'll sit and chat with me while your girlfriend's at work, at the store, getting her hair or her nails done, whatever. That's all fine and dandy. Hell, even while she's asleep. That's great. The *second* she's around? You vanish into the mist, so as to not be 'caught' being in communication with me. Even if all we were doing was talking. It doesn't make any damn sense.

You call from your car, as you drive from place to place, chatting away, but as soon as you get where you're going? Uh-oh, can't keep talking once you're *home*! Oh noes! Because then someone would realize that I exist, and that would wreck the game, and your little secret would be out. Even though I'm not entirely sure what that secret entails, since I'm the one listening to the conversation, and let me tell you: hearing all about your pets, and your kids, and what's going on with work isn't exactly the stuff of cloak and dagger intrigue, nor is it the stuff that really good erotic literature is made of.

But even if it was? What are you doing that you're so ashamed of that you need to keep it hidden? If it's that bad, perhaps you shouldn't be having any contact with me at all, either that, or simply cough it up, and admit that you're my friend, and at the same time admit *that I'm yours*. Because it's rather tedious from my end, being told I'm supposed to sit over there on a shelf, to be picked up when it's handy for you to want to play, and ignored the rest of the time.

That's not really friendship. Or anything else.

I am so inordinately exhausted. Have been for days, actually, although I haven't particularly been going out of my way to advertise the fact. There didn't seem to be a whole lot of point. I'm still doing what needs to be done, and handling the myriad things that I always handle, because it's what I do, right?

And tomorrow I'll go, and handle all of the meetings that are lined up, and talk to all the people that need to be dealt with, and when everything is neatly wrapped up, I'll go and I'll crawl into quiet oblivion somewhere, and attempt to block everything out with earplugs, and try to process everything then. Maybe. Or maybe I won't, I haven't exactly decided yet. I'm honestly not sure I'm even up to trying.

To be perfectly honest, what I am most is conflicted. I spent weeks listening to a back and forth maybe yes, maybe no, okay yes, wait, no. Until I finally made the negative decision, because it was, once again, the right thing to do, because that's what I always end up having to do. To make it easier for someone else, in spite of what I might have wanted for myself, or what would have been easier for me personally.

And what right this moment feels (and I realize it's an exaggeration) like five minutes later, I had a hypothetical proposition laid before me, so I could try and assimilate an idea. Something about whether or not I was alright with it, and how I'd handle it. And when my flat-out objection, and strong opposition was laid out? I'm trying to puzzle out why, precisely, it was presented to me in the first place.

Evidently that proposition wasn't even vaguely accurate, so why bother with the pretense? Why involve me at all? I didn't want to be brought into that mess. To wit, I'm tired of being caught in the middle of all of it. This problem isn't mine. The complications, the misery, the difficulties, the poor planning? None of that is my problem. If my advice is going to be sought and have it be actively honestly considered, that's one thing. But it isn't. It appears to simply be some sort of chip laid on the ground to be kicked back and forth, and I don't want to be the soccer ball between.

I didn't do anything to be there. The only life I can live anymore is mine. Everything else? All the rest? Just...leave me out of it. I don't quite understand what it is that you seem to want from me, I honestly don't. Bending backwards and sideways, trying to grasp what it is I was supposed to be, or do, or say. And at the end of the day, in spite of everything, I just can't seem to follow it.

And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm not saying the right thing. I'm sorry that I didn't respond the way I guess I was supposed to. Maybe I'm just not capable of being that person, or pretending to be someone I'm not. I've been biting through my tongue for weeks to not say anything at all. And now, finally, I understand why. Because it's not my place to be anything else other than me. That's not my life to live, this one is. Not my choice to make, and I have no voice in it. I don't have anything that I can do that will change me being me, and I wish that I did. I hate that it hurts you.

I've always hated hurting you, and you know that.