Archive for May, 2013

No Return

Posted May 15, 2013 By kmarrs

When I was a freshman in high school, so roughly 15, I had an online friend, whom was depressed.  Suicidal.  I knew this.

One night I sat and read his plan as he typed it to me over ICQ or Yahoo, whatever we were using at the time.  This was 15 years ago.  I read his anguish and what he intended to do about it.  I knew it was coming that night, that hour.  So I started him talking.  Anything to keep him talking.  I gained ground, and I lost it.  I’d gain more, but I’d lose twice as much.  That’s what it’s like when someone isn’t just wishing life away but putting a plan into motion.

I kept him going for an hour or so.  Maybe it was far less.  Maybe it was more like 3.  This was half my life ago and in moments like this, time doesn’t progress normally anyway.  But we talked a lifetime away as I kept him talking right up until he couldn’t type anymore.  And I continued to type to him knowing full well it was too late, he was at that point of no return.  He was already gone.

I had it confirmed, I don’t even know how much later, by his younger brother.

My life was never the same after that night.

I suppose that’s why, so many years later, I can’t just walk away.  It may not be my personal problem, but it’s someone’s problem.  Someone’s friend.  Someone’s son or daughter.  The love of someone’s life, whether they can see it or not.  And maybe for whatever reason, they can’t be the one there keeping them talking.

But I’d like to think that if I hadn’t been available on that fateful night, someone else would have been.  Maybe they could have done better, maybe I got further than anyone could have.  Just as long as he wasn’t alone in his final moments, even if I was an ocean away.

And so no, I can’t walk away.  It doesn’t matter if you are a total stranger.  Someone who knows you and loves you will always be grateful for the heart I put into gaining ground in keeping your life intact.

I told my father the day after it happened.  Knowing full well he was gone, did we have any means of confirming it?  But this person I cried for the night before was an ocean away, and I didn’t even know for sure where.  Technology was much the same then in the sense of talking to people around the world, but unlike today, there was no Facebook or twitter making it possible to narrow down where a lost life might be found so police could be called.

I still think of him time to time.  I don’t remember his name.  Too many years have passed and I’m not good with that aspect  of my memory.  Yet I will never forget, until my own dying days, that feeling I was left with when all was said and done.

And if in my life I can prevent that feeling for anyone else, then I will fight to make it so.

Because you don’t have to love someone to feel that hole of a life lost.

You’d be surprised who can care about you and how.

And no one is better off when anyone is gone.

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Posted May 14, 2013 By kmarrs

My only real goal with this party, this project, is friendship.  I don’t have a lot of real solid friendship and I’m lonely.  Very, very lonely.  In fact, I’ve brought those in my head back to me so that I’m not always so alone.  Sometimes they help, sometimes they just show me how alone I really am.  Only there in my head, never out.

But yes, this #GeekParty is about friendship.  Not just for me, bot for others who enjoy geekism.  Whether it be gaming or comic books, music or Doctor Who, who really cares?  Geekdom isn’t about what you enjoy, but how you enjoy it.  It is a passion.  A PASSION!  And I’m filled with a passion in most everything I bother to do.  If I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it with all of me.  Enjoy it with all of me.  And that’s Geekdom.  And we’re proud.

So #GeekParty is pulling those of us who have passion for ANYTHING together so we can enjoy each other and talk about what we enjoy.

And last week it exploded.  Locally anyway.  I talk a lot and as a result it started trending in Ohio.  And that is awesome.  Because not only is that new friendship, but that is new friendship near me.  Where maybe I can work towards a friendship that doesn’t involving hiding behind the internet.  I’d love that.

Because that is what I need so desperately right now.

So please join us, tonight, at the 3rd #GeekParty.  Everyone is welcome.  Everyone is encouraged.  It starts at 8PM EST and runs until the last person leaves.  Come early.  Come late.  Just please consider stopping by.  You never know who you’ll meet and what you’ll find yourself talking about.

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I have aid settled.

I have books.

I have pens, highlighters, pencils, and a binder.

I have a student ID.

I have an advising team that will answer any and all questions, dedicated to helping me succeed.

I have a financial aid department that not only answers the phone (I know!) but is knowledgeable.

I have my first 2 classes scheduled, back-to-back, for over the summer.

I have everything I need to do this.

To do this well.

To succeed.

I’m excited!

I’m a little bit terrified,

But I’m really excited!

And in 7 days, I will actively be a student.

And I will do this!

And then I will pay back thousands of dollars in loans, privileged to be able to do so.

That last part may make me sound crazy.

But this has been a so very long fight.

(Unrelated: Tomorrow at 8PM EST is the 3rd #GeekParty on Twitter.  See you there?)

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Posted May 10, 2013 By kmarrs

Sexuality and BPDSexuality is a complicated thing.  Not always obvious and not always easily negotiated.

Made harder when you are in a duel-sex marriage, however encouraging the spouse may be that maybe he can’t meet all your needs and you are welcome to explore, with reasonable limitations.  Women only, of course, and family always first, of course.

In 10 years I’ve never really taken advantage of this.  I suppose my general lack of sexual desire, that is a whole other blog post I’ll probably never write, doesn’t help.  But honestly, I have enough trouble as it is making friends, much less finding a girlfriend.

But let’s say you do know someone who you are kind of into.  How do you even go about saying, “Oh hey, I’m not only wanting but allowed. By-the-by, I don’t even know if you are bi.  I know you aren’t gay but could you even be into me?”

It seems like more drama than it probably is even worth.

Especially since my desire that would be fulfilled is less sexual in nature and more nurturing in nature.

And I’m rambling.

So let’s be blunt shall we?  This is where you look away if the idea of girl on girl turns your stomach.  Or frank sex talk in general.

My interest in the female sex isn’t based on my desire to eat out a girl, or be eaten out by one.  I have issues with body fluid anyway.  So that part just mostly wouldn’t work.  And the half that sometimes does, my husband is more than capable of taking care of.

What I want is someone small, frail, and delicate, even if just figuratively, that I can wrap my arms around and just protect as the figurative male of the relationship.  I want a femme to satisfy my butch side.

I almost get that with Pat, which is why I think our relationship works so well.  Both of our genders and sexualities are a jumble of all the options.  But while I can nurture him, he is neither small nor delicate, and if he is frail it’s in health, not femininity.

So I’m left frustrated at times.  But only when I meet someone who stirs things inside of me that normally lie dormant.

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After All This Time

Posted May 9, 2013 By kmarrs

People come in and out.  Not really there.  Only in my head.  With personality, plot, conversation.  You’ll hear me talking to myself.  Low mutters.  You won’t be able to make out what I’m saying, but you’ll hear me.  Talking to myself.  But really, I’m talking to them.  I know they aren’t real.  I know they aren’t there.  I can control them until my story gets away from me.  But then I can reset.  I can decide I don’t like where my inner plot is going and I can turn it on its heels.  And it’s been called different things.  My first mental health hospital stay, based off what little I would say, they called it Schizotypal.  Fanciful thinking.  Magic thinking.  Later my meds doc would call it a coping mechanism.  As long as it was helping, not hurting, we don’t prevent it.  But 20 plus years now my closest friends, my most trusted companions, have only been in my head.  And I can’t help but wonder, when do I lose control?  When do I lose touch with reality?  With the reality that they aren’t real.  Aren’t there.

Please don’t see this as a sign of trouble.  Those who need to know, know.  Those who see me daily will watch for it to change, morph, into something more.  So now I ride it out.  I’m still stable.  This has been a constant for most of 20 years.  It has never been a problem.  In fact, usually, it’s the cure.  It just gets so very old sometimes.

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Posted May 8, 2013 By kmarrs

We are what we make of ourselves.  And our disease is what we present it to be.

If you behave badly and use your mental illness as an excuse, you are helping to propel the stigma of mental illness forward.  If I only know one person with BPD and that person makes bad decision after bad decision, drinking, drugging, sleeping around, hurting themselves and all those near them, and then turns around and blames all this behavior on their BPD as if it’s an excuse, as if they can do as they please because they have this disease, then I’m going to assume this is what I can expect from all those who have BPD.  I may well be your future boss, lover, friend.  This makes it hard for all the others who have this disease but fight to not let it define them prove that BPD isn’t a life wrecker.  And I don’t just mean the life of those diagnosed but the lives of those surrounding those diagnosed.

Maybe remission and recovery isn’t about being 100% symptom free.  Maybe it’s about having the symptoms so well-managed and maintained that you can fool even yourself into thinking you are symptom free.

And where are those people standing up saying “Look at me!  Yes I destroyed so many lives including my own for such a long time.  But nowNow!  Now I have skills and a sheer determination that I will no longer drown in my diagnosis.  I am not my diagnosis, I have my diagnosis!”

Those fighting to destroy the stigma.  Those working amazing jobs with respectable careers despite their diagnosis, terrified to let their diagnosis be known because those words could ruin it all, based on the rep of those people making poor decisions and instead of owning up to them, choosing to blame those words.  These people need you to stop and look at your actions.  I’m not saying that you can automatically stop the actions.  But you can choose to own up to what you do, instead of blaming a diagnosis thinking that you can get away with whatever you want now.  You can’t.  Do you know right from wrong?  Then except that you have done wrong.  You, the person, said those words, did those things.  Not the diagnosis.

I’m not saying I’ve never been guilty of this.  We all have at some point.  But now?  Now I’m on the other side.  And if there is one thing I can do from this side, if I get to choose that one thing, then I choose to show those where I’ve been how their actions, and not owning their actions, create the stigma that all those on both sides try to fight.

We are fighting what we, ourselves created.

How’s that working out for you?  I have to say, it isn’t working out so well over here.

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