I somehow managed to pass all of my classes from last quarter, which was fairly surprising considering the length of time it took me to finish Wysong's paper. I had a dream about vindication, a dream about relief and longing, I was a complete DORK about K-nex and made a merry go round with my grandmother, I started Roleplaying epics with Rah and talking with Crane, Hobbit, Fish, Charlie, and Liz almost exclusively. I won a Gay War, and started a new term. Things get tense with me and the landladies.
Crane and I have an EPIC RP about Steampunk airpirates, pterodactyls, and Tea Genies. I turned 24. I was completely BOWLED over with surprise gifts from a bunch of people on the internet, and phonecalls, and people getting in touch with me. It's bizarre for me, since all of them are so far away physically. I continue having massive RPs with Rah, talk with Charlie and Liz a LOT.
I refuse to get depressed. I have nightmares about green water, volcanic rock, and angry ghosts. I get sick with a fever, and Crane and I have absolutely silly conversations as a result. I....don't remember a lot about March. I'll have to update this when I've looked over the IM logs on AIM, because most of my activity from January to April was dedicated to schoolwork, walking it off, and talking with people online. I'd go every day I was in school surrounded by my own bubble, and every weekend not talking to people. There was at least a month here that I went without human contact, and at least a week or two I went without hearing someone else's voice, including my own.
Hunter calls. I'm tired and unhappy about everything I'm doing, and feeling more than a little worn at the edges. I -think- this is around where I had the massive fight with Bunni and Minty, and we stopped talking with each other for a while.
Gay War starts back up again in full force between myself, Dean and Rah, I FINALLY figured out how to see those stupid Magic-eye paintings. I consider this a monumental event. Fish, Rah and I collaborated with each other almost subconsciously to create an awesome piece, and I rather clumsily landed another term of school with some watercolor pieces, a fuck-ton of sketches on index cards, and a gnawing desire to gtfo of school and work on Maven. I hung out with Justin and watched Star Trek, which was a blast.
Decided I was GOING to write Maven, Dammit, and started drawing out sketches of a Beginning, with rapid speed. Dean and Rah came to visit Portland and hunt for apartments up here, and it was a comedy of failures counterbalanced with good company and shenanigans. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the novelty of two friendly, sane people who REALLY liked my company, while not really being sure what to think of each other. I got to walk with both, and talk with both, and Ian and the three of us started a completely cracked-out RP which was one of the most entertaining experiences with DnD I've ever had. I kinda forgot that game could be Fun, and wasn't just a good trigger for arguments and sleeping on the floors of laundromats. I began to suffer from a nagging art-block due to performance anxiety around two other talented artists who were more than happy to offer constructive critique that made me feel even more self-conscious about the subject matter and non-reference approach I had been taking than ever before.
Dean moved into apartment, I met his parents. Enjoyed his company. Helped Rah move in, which was hilarious since she mailed all of her stuff ahead of her, and we had to wait a few days. Dean started taking T: this was a fairly memorable event. While on a walk with Rah, discovered the Clearwater corridor, and along that walk discovered some of the coolest, simplest pieces of public Park art I've ever seen. Cut hair short, got bizarrely propositioned on the doorstep of my apartment, played ridiculous amounts of sudoku. Art Block persisted, and I began to withdraw from some of the public arenas I'd been frequenting on account of an overload of contact. Portland had an absolutely ridiculous heat wave. In light of Dean and Rah's observations of me, I did a lot of self-reflection and didn't like what I saw. Quietly frustrated with all the holes I saw in my work, lifestyle, and attitude, I lost a considerable amount of steam and began to feel the ache of events I'd screamed through in 2008.
The heat wave persisted, and I stayed with Dean and Rah to avoid boiling in my own apartment. I got my head buzzed, went skinnydipping, went down to the family reunion, and the Storm my aunt had brewing for me since December of 2008 finally hit: it was gently delivered, and about ten times more devastating than I'd been prepared for. Reeling, I confided in my grandmother about it, and basically got a kindly delivered "walk it off" response. So I shut up about it. I was a ghost for the family reunion again. I got an infection, met Fish and Abby in person, and saw my second Ring Cycle up in Seattle while fighting off my infection. Wagner was still amazing, as was the production. I had a long talk with my youngest aunt, and took extensively long walks along Puget sound while stubbornly refusing to be in an amazing amount of physical, mental, and emotional pain. Dean got me arch supports for my feet, my grandmother got me new boots, and I stopped walking with a literal limp.
I stopped being alright. I got tired of trying to ignore myself, and used a school project as a means of delving into some of the things I glossed over and ignored for seven years. I found to my horror that the scar tissue and abuse, both given and taken, that I earned from those seven years was not only worse than I thought, but directly networked with old, unhealed scars I've had since I was five. I finally let the backlog of trauma hit me like an act of nature, and as a result temporarily lost a lot of faith in myself, my family, humanity, and my ability to do things in a way that doesn't cause myself harm. I all but completely lost the will, desire, and confidence to draw. So I slammed on the brakes, because the past was a spiderweb of fragile cracks, and the future was a scary thing I didn't think I had the tools to approach in the state I was in. I didn't even know where to start. And I didn't trust myself to make any decision that wouldn't involve me committing self-martyrdom. Dean and Rah got to listen to a lot of heavily filtered, low-level, reasonably-toned panic as I scrambled.
I wasn't alright. I clumsily kicked and screamed my way through several projects, but the results weren't up to my prior standards, although they were better than I perceived them to be. I sought refuge in my math class because I had permission to be a beginner who made mistakes and had the right to experiment and explore in that course. I started slacking off on drawing homework so I could do math homework. I spent a lot of time talking the ears off of people I felt safe talking to, and then apologizing for the state I was in. I couldn't even look at my own work, though I certainly talked about it. I accidentally bumped into some of Hunter's friends, which prompted internal explosions. I finally got around to tentatively seeking therapy, and stiffly worked my way through taking the necessary steps. I felt my way through what was safe, comfortable social space, and what wasn't. I tried, and failed, to break down several times.
I wasn't alright. So I started seeing a counselor. I went to bondage clubs and was astonished and enlightened by what I found there. I ran into a woman who was suffering an attack of Chrohn's disease, and managed to help her get medical assistance instead of letting her get back in her car and drive to a hospital in that condition. I continued to struggle against my art block in vain. I watched Carl Sagan's Cosmos for the first time, instead of doing homework, and I don't regret a thing. I began working with pastel pencils and huge toned paper, and did a completely unprofessional piece of art for my Illustration class just to test it out: a magnificent failure that miraculously re-acquainted me with the fact that I can, in fact, create, and that creation is FUN. I learned that Wysong is the creator of the sculptures up on Clearwater that Rah and I like so much, and greeted her in the commons so I could tell her thank you for creating them. I made her day, which made mine.
I felt better. I got glasses, I bought new clothes that aren't worn out or hand-me-downs and make me look like how I WANT to look, I completely cleaned out my apartment, I had some doctor's appointments for the first time in several years, and my brother turned 22. I somehow pulled two impressive final projects out of my ass for school and rather triumphantly landed the term, I learned how to drum until my hands were blistered and loved it. I 'fessed up to myself that I really don't consider myself a girl so I should start asserting myself about where the androgyny ends, and where the "dude" begins, I got into a new relationship, the delayed announcement of which caused at least two friends of mine to detonate and, to my chagrin, fall into even deeper states of despair than they already had been.
I'm still picking through the wreckage, and I'm probably missing some parts, but bits and pieces are coming back together, and it already fits better than before.