what makes the water holy is that it's the closest thing to rain.

So I'm trying to figure out this important scene in "The Leavings of the Wolf," and I know what it does but I'm not quite sure what happens in it, if you know what I mean. So while I'm thinking about that, and getting ready to climb--Hark! A blog!

***

Interesting how the world keeps challenging you.

Here I am, and I had gotten my head around to a place in my recovery (I'm a child abuse survivor, and I'm out about it, because somebody needs to be--check the tag for details if you want 'em) where I was pretty fucking comfortable, actually, and stable and secure and knew what the hell I was doing with myself.

I had my issues sorted, and the boxes of baggage neatly labeled and shelved, and I knew how to navigate through the boundaries of my damage without causing myself too much inconvenience or distress.

I had it licked.

A lot of the legacy of abuse stuff I have revolves around the conviction that I am unlovable and awful and nobody should or would or could ever care about me, and more, that I don't deserve for people to care about me. And it's very hard--very, very hard--for me to internalize that people actually do care about me, that what I do matters or has any effect on other people. I can understand it on an intellectual level, sort of, in an abstract kind of way. But actually feeling it? Having it be reflexive as opposed to something I always have to have a status light running to remind me of?

Believing it?

Not only is it hard, it feels wicked. Selfish. Like, who am I to think I matter? Who am I to feel like I have the right to put any obligations on anybody? Even when people freely offer.

It's just one of the many charming ways PTSD isolates.

So, yeah. Toxic for me and anybody who cares about me, much?

I can usually find ways to navigate that okay, you know. Often I do it through service; service--"Give something away every day"--makes me feel a little less awfully guilty for existing. The trick is keeping that from going all martyry and toxic in a whole *different* way.

But then lately there's this new thing in my life I've been alluding to, a relationship that's become really shockingly important to me in a surprisingly brief time--and here I am suddenly hard up against that, and trying to navigate what this root-installed defense mechanism of mine tells me (nothing can be trusted, nobody wants you, you are going to die alone and be eaten by your cats and you should just accept that and be content because at least you aren't hurting anybody) when confronted with some pretty incontrovertible proof that somebody actually cares about me rather a lot, and doesn't think I'm worthless, and isn't fucking willing to let me forget it.

Man. Just when you think you have the "navigate personal relationships in a cunning approximation of a real functional human being" thing licked, the Tetris shapes start dropping faster. And they add some new ones.

And here I am sorting through these fucking cardboard boxes of ancient horrors once again.

Work, work, it's always work.

But at least a cute boy likes me.

***

Anyway. Just putting that out there, in case it helps somebody.

So I guess this is what I'm giving away today.