Vulnerability

Daily writing prompt
Whatโ€™s the trait you value most about yourself?

The trait I value most about myself is that I’m not afraid to say the quiet part out loud.

I’m learning that there aren’t many quiet parts in life because the more you’re able to be vulnerable, the more you’re able to get empathy. The more you’re able to get empathy, the more you want to give that feeling to others. Shutting yourself off from the world is definitely a thing you can do, but how it helps? Not so sure I liked it when I was touch starved and lonely for so many years. I’ve had more hugs in the last few days than I have in the last four or five years.

It’s how I realized family was so important and that I needed to cultivate it in Baltimore if I was going to stay. Going home would be the easiest choice, but not necessarily the right one because it’s the most expensive.

But perhaps the most expensive is the best for my mental health, and I have to do what’s best for it. I would have to learn to ignore a lot of the world around me and focus on making myself a better person, because there is nothing I can do about the state of Texas politics except vote and encourage others. But I’m not going to release anyone from a cult, and that’s what Texas politics has become in its service to the president.

Houston has a lot of crime, but there are also a lot of Trump voters here. That’s why I doubt that Houston’s crime rate matters. It’s more politically expedient to target Democratic strongholds. Baltimore is probably going to be next. If the National Guard cleans up the city by actually cleaning, that would be great. There are parts of the city that look absolutely war-torn, and we could use the help. But that kind of help is not what the president means to imply.

I am hoping that the National Guard will show itself to be for America by protecting protestors rather than creating violent situations.

But thinking about all of these things makes me focus less on taking care of myself. I don’t mean to be selfish, but taking care of myself is work that I’ve been ignoring. My social masking and compensatory skills are off the charts for all the adaptations I’ve developed to cover my weird, but now that I’m old they don’t work.

My body cannot compensate as fast, because what medical disorder gets better? I am at a loss as to what to do, because I need my family in a different way than I ever have before, but my safety and security legally and medically is in a blue state.

Plus, I love access to the water. Whether it’s the Potomac, the Willamette, or the Chesapeake, I just like being on the coast. I know within myself that Oregon is probably off the table for right now, but may be a possibility later in life if Evan and I are successful at writing this cookbook and need to collaborate full time.

I will be able to make a better decision once my car gets here and I can spend the day driving around and looking at neighborhoods. I’m becoming convinced that both Baltimore and the DMV are possibilities, I just have to make up my mind quickly. The DMV is easier for Lindsay and there’s plenty of support for me in Rockville. I already have everything set up here, but it would be easy enough to transfer.

I am also pretty sure that I am Baltimore weird and not DC dress-up. Now that I have a car, it doesn’t feel like I live any further away from downtown DC than my friends in the outer reaches of Northern Virginia. It just feels longer to people from Virginia. ๐Ÿ˜‰

I suppose it can be with traffic, but I don’t have to get out in it. I can wait until it dies down, though there’s always a little bit of traffic between the two cities.

Again, it’s too early to tell without a car to explore, but I’d love to live in a walkable neighborhood so that the only time I needed to drive was to pick up groceries and go on road trips.

Short ones, if I’m by myself.

I look forward to them, as my next will probably be to visit friends for Halloween in upstate New York. I have mentioned this if you are a fan. I’m mentioning it again because it’s something to look forward to down the road, literally.

In the meantime, I’ve been staring at my stats wondering why I appeal to such a worldwide audience. What is it about me that translates to India, for instance? I have a lot of Indian fans and it makes me happy because it’s fun wondering what their daily lives might entail. I’ve also thought about getting a t-shirt made that says, “I’m kind of a big deal in India.” I just don’t know what to say when questioned. ๐Ÿ˜‰

I am not “kind of a big deal” in India. I’ve just noticed that most of my overseas fans are from there. And in fact, I’m interested in all of my nonwhite fans, because I speak out on a lot of issues that should be people of color’s voices first.

I get it wrong sometimes because I’m white. I’m also capable of being taught when I’ve erred. White fragility does not apply to me because I’m desperately interested in learning how to be a better ally. I’m trying to show that I may not have walked a mile in a black person’s shoes, but as a queer person I know where they pinch.

I wish that people would feel the same outrage they’d feel at SCOTUS overturning “Loving” for “Obergefell.”Too many straight people feel that being queer is a sin, voting on things that have never affected them and shouldn’t be up for debate. Gay people getting married should have had to be approved by straight people. We exist and want to partner up whether you’re in our lives or not. I wish that settled law would stay settled, but if “Roe” has been overturned, there’s no limit to what could happen in America’s future.

It’s why I’m still thinking about school abroad while Trump is president and then reassessing whether I’d like to come back. It just depends on who would have me, but being nonbinary opens up options.

It really depends on what my dad and sister think. I wouldn’t want to put myself in a situation where they couldn’t come and visit easily. But that is relative because they both love to travel. I just need to focus on myself so that I can take these big changes in stride.

Nothing is more important than getting a good night’s rest, because I find that I can handle more during the day if I sleep well. I am trying to create a morning routine for myself, which is being met by resistance from my demand avoidance.

My therapist has their work cut out for them, as do I. The hallmark of neurodivergence is not being able to create habits… that every task takes the same amount of energy no matter how many times you’ve done it because nothing goes on autopilot. I haven’t been coping well in the past, which is why cognitive behavioral therapy is so important to my future.

It takes a lot of chutzpah to admit that anything is wrong with you, because of course I care about what people think. I just care about telling my truth more, because it attracts the right people to me. I wouldn’t get along in life very well if my friends and family couldn’t put up with my blog entries.

I have already had one friend accuse me of using my blog to manipulate her, but I hope that is fading now that she’s out of my life and my story hasn’t changed at all. I am using the Oasis model of “Don’t Look Back in Anger.” I’m not a manipulator, and no one says that when they first start reading. They say that after they’ve known me for a long time and are a part of the story.

I don’t know how to manage writing about my life without ruffling any feathers, and in fact told Aada that I would burn the whole thing down and start writing books if she’d edit them. It was a bargain that didn’t work because she was too angry to listen to me.

But I don’t have a history of lying to her.

It was my way of saying, “I know your career is more important than mine and I know I messed up.” It was not an insincere offer in the slightest, because at the time, I’d had enough of blowback and thought relaxing with an editor would slow all of that down…. posting every day leads to possible blowback every day.

But writing about my life would be uninteresting if I had no friends and just sat in my own echo chamber, and I know that because I am not interesting to me as I sit in this apartment. Aada became my focus because she was out there living her life and I was sitting here hearing about it…. but I wasn’t really creating a life outside of that.

It’s a new era. This morning I woke up and walked to Wendy’s, where I was standing in the world’s longest line…. and just got out of it and left because I realized that if I waited to order I’d be late for my psychiatrist’s appointment. We’re doing telehealth so I only had to dash back to my house, but it was still a close call.

Then, this afternoon I walked to the convenience store to get a can of Hawaiian cold coffee, a Diet Dr Pepper, a Gatorade, and a watermelon juice. I drank the watermelon juice as I walked home, because it was new and novel to me.

That’s two walks I would have had trouble making before I left for Texas, because I seem to have come back a little more gregarious. I think I had to be reminded who I am.

I wasn’t agoraphobic the entire time I was in Texas, but I had my sisters, dad, and friends around me.

Again, it all comes back to vulnerability and saying the quiet part out loud. I will have friends and chosen family in Baltimore, it’s just about being brave enough to ask.

You Got Me Straight Trippin, Boo

Whatโ€™s the trait you value most about yourself?

I’m not so good at talking about my “traits,” because it feels like all of them are somewhere in the middle in terms of value being good or bad. I’m tripping because none seem more important than the other.

For instance, being queer does not make me interesting in and of itself. Overcoming other people’s reactions to me being queer is what makes me brave, because it’s not something to which people have the right to react. It is what it is.

To me, it’s all like that. A trait’s beauty is dependent on its circumstances. If having brown eyes had been interpreted as wrong in the Bible, I would be overcoming fear and hatred of that instead. It’s the same amount of important.

Plus, my mind is an interesting combination of nothing right now, because I just woke up about 20 minutes ago (getting up at 0700 hasn’t taken. It’s 0520). I could go downstairs, get some coffee, read the paper. But that’s what normal people do. Creativity is a cruel mistress, even when it’s Internet word vomit.

[At this point I started joking with Cora (The War Daniel’s daughter who is now also mine)… Why was I not smart enough to have a child that lives with me? “The problem with using infants for waitstaff is that you get very poor service.” -Lemony Snickett She’s 25. Still funny.]

We’ve been chatting back and forth- she’s got some amazing artwork and I was telling her she should put it up on CafePress. All kinds of weird creatures with extensive back story- just more creative than I’ll ever be with visual art. She could make money easily because all she’d have to do is upload her art digitally. CafePress buys all the merchandise and you just pay for what you use- no up front cost because the costs to CafePress are billed to the customer.

I did a limited run of “Fanagans’ Wake” t-shirts, as well as one for line cooks that says “Keep Calm and Sell the Rail,” and they eventually did ok. But I’m not Cora. I enjoy working with fonts and spacing. She can design and decorate whole worlds.

An inborn trait for all INFJs is wanting others to be the best they can be. I thought of this because when Cora started sending me her artwork, I thought it might be useful for her to know about CafePress, and not because I’m trying to direct her into success. I genuinely would like to have a coffee mug with her artwork on it because I’m not saying that as “overbearing tiger queer mom.” I mean that her work wouldn’t look out of place at ComiCon, and I believe that the only reason she’s not making bank is that she’s an unknown. All unknowns start somewhere, and I’m getting in on the ground floor. I am also not here to make my dreams her reality.

INFJs think in visions of what might be. We start with an issue and spin it out. We throw everything on the table to see what it looks like and look before we leap to an enormous degree…….. except in my case, this is often derailed when I have stars in my eyes to an enormous degree. But everyone goes stupid at love. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t.

I saw kids with Auna.

I saw living with Theresa.

I saw being old with Sam.

I do see being old with Supergrover because life is long and it’s not over. I am terribly small, but would never sing that particular song.

None of these things have or have yet come true, and it doesn’t matter that they didn’t or haven’t. That’s because the visions in my head are only guidance. I think in some ways it’s my brain protecting me from fear. That if things do work out, here’s what it will look like. Here is a goal you can work towards.

It was particularly important for me to see a future with Sam because I was so terrified. I am glad she broke up with me in retrospect, but she’d have to know just how many walls she broke down in order for me to even go on a date with her, especially after she gave me so many red flags in the beginning that I just ignored because she was adorable and I felt safe. Even with the red flags, everybody’s got ’em, so I would have tried harder had she let me. I’m just glad I didn’t have to. It was too early to work hard. I’m sure I came with red flags, too, clearly. I’m just glad I didn’t have to mourn her, because Supergrover was there to catch and told me how much of an idiot Sam was. She has a history of telling the absolute truth, so it was easy to rest in my pet monster on a leash.

If you’re playing Skyrim, she’s very unapologetic that she is Alduin.

She’s not. She is Paarthurnax for everything he was, is, and will be.

I want the best in life for her, too. If she was a fan of Avatar: The Last Airbeder, I believe she would see some direct correlations to our relationship with Uncle Iroh and Zuko. It feels amazing that I’m in season three now.

If you never met Supergrover or she never sent you a photo, you’d think you were being e-mailed by a prize fighter, but one who seems like he spends his time at home painting his nails and wearing a tutu just to see his daughter smile. But then you look at her and realize that she’s a six year old girl with lots of complicated layers who also believes in adorably seductive and tasteful Halloween costumes, thanks be to God.

Just because we’re not a couple doesn’t mean I can’t be interested when Vogue magazine is on the coffee table. I, just like her, love pictures of beautiful people. I’d like to see pictures of her in different outfits and settings whether I knew her personally or not. I love photography. I do know her personally, though, so I pretend like settings and outfits matter when I’m really only looking for her microexpressions.

An inborn trait of INFJs is that we all know you can’t tell when someone is happy by looking at someone who’s smiling. It is not found there. It is found in their eyes, the way their muscles tense when pulled just so, whether crow’s feet go up or down (in my case). You can hide a drained soul from many people. I am just not one of them.

If you are my friend, though, I do have boundaries. If I can tell that you’re struggling, I will not intrude unless I feel there is clear and present danger. I need you to be capable of realizing that you’re struggling and asking for help. I also see when people are incapable of doing those things and probably won’t just step in, but I will be relentless about telling you to handle your shit with medication and therapy. It’s not my job to fix you, but it is my responsibility to tell you when your behavior is affecting me. I am not the be all and end all, but I know from depression and alcoholism. If I’m willing to say something, it’s already bad because I’m not judgmental about everything. I assume you’ve got it handled right up until you don’t. However, I’m not sure I would be insistent with someone who didn’t live with me. Their behavior just doesn’t affect me enough for it to be a burden on me otherwise, and criticism is always unwelcome no matter how constructive you’re trying to be. No one thinks you are trying to lance a boil. It’s always an attack.

I’ll give you a huge for-instance. I couldn’t, shouldn’t, and didn’t tell Dana to stop drinking or I’d leave. That’s because I was in the situation, not looking down on it. Is it surprising to anyone that I accidentally developed a wandering eye? I needed a catalyst for change, and Supergrover was it. The “accidentally” part is that I did not go into that relationship expecting anything close. I walked into a wall of bullshit I’m still not out of yet. Even she would agree that I stepped in it up to my ass, because she knows she’s a handful and calls her own life crazy because it is. Laying out the story exactly how it happened is like that scene from Men in Black II:

J: Okay. Straight to the point. [whispers in a serious voice] You are a former agent of a top-secret organization that monitors extraterrestrials on Earth. We’re the Men in Black. We have a situation, and we need your help.

K: There’s a free mental health clinic at the corner of Lilac and East Valley. Next!

No one gets this life by accident, and yet I did….. just through my inborn traits.