i won’t apologize anymore

Tags

ableism, assumptions, disability, disability erasure, personal

my heavily threaded guilt complex developed over oh so many years has been getting to me. telling me that i should feel bad for not posting as frequently as i have, as i should, about subjects that i know i should be talking about but just haven’t had the energy for it.

but see, the problem with that is that i shouldn’t have to feel that way. it’s bullshit, ableism fed to us telling us that we should be more productive, that we should be performing for people, that our bodies and minds do not matter in light of the demands of others.

things have been quiet here. not because i’ve given up, or because i’ve lost interest in writing, but because i’ve been doing my best to take care of myself first. the battles with relapses do not leave much energy for lengthened, eloquently constructed, edited posts. and while a part of me feels as if i should be sorry for this, i need to come to terms with the simple fact that i shouldn’t. my health is a higher priority, even when blogging about said health, and i won’t be shamed about lessened ‘productivity’ anymore.

i won’t apologize anymore. it will be a long and tedious battle, but here it is a start. a journey to reclaim my body and mind for me, not to be taken from me by the demands of the people around me.

there are a few posts and ideas that i’m still in the middle of working with. they’ll be posted eventually, possibly ‘late’, once i can get all of my thoughts together. which isn’t an easy task, but one to be done on my own time.

Dating, Disabilities, and D/s: Well, why the fuck not?

Tags

BDSM, disability, kink, power exchange, relationships

this is a guest post for Kinky Disability written by my Dom and fiancé. He is very new to kink and power exchange, esp when learning about and dealing with disabilities, and i wanted to include that in this series bc of the unique position and perspectives that such a path brings. bc while self-care within the kink community and bdsm practices is important, so is the support and understanding of our loved ones and peers. as the community is full of ableism, learning Doms frequently don’t learn about the limitations that a partner with disabilities may have, and thus have little to no understanding of how to approach it should such a time come. our partners (be they in kink activity, romantic, etc) need to be able to grow and learn with us if our community is to grow and thrive, esp in regards to inclusion of people with disabilities and combating ableism.

I’m able bodied, sane, and in a position of privilege, and I’m also in a Dominant/submissive relationship with my beloved fiancée, who is disabled. I’m rather new to the relationship, and in fact, I’m new to the concept of privilege. My fiancée is the person who explained the principles behind ableism and privilege to me. We are now in a sort of pseudo-D/s relationship. I use the pseudo prefix because I am not familiar with the ideas of D/s. My fiancée is slowly explaining the concepts and fundamentals of a proper and successful D/s relationship. Ours is a relationship of learning and progression. I will not lie or even attempt to lie and say that I know everything there is to keep my relationship healthy and successful. I am, however, doing my best to keep them happy and give them peace of mind.

It’s not much a guest post unless the guest is thoroughly established and proven to be credible. I am no expert on psychological or physical illnesses. I am not learned on D/s relationships or fundamentals. In fact, I just learned about ableism no more than a year ago. It would be foolish of me to say that I know everything there is to know about privilege and D/s. I will say, however, that I know enough to be able to analyze and understand my own faults. I will admit that it is difficult at times to catch my own ableism, and I still, sometimes, say things that can trigger people. However, I’d like to think that I learn from the mistakes that I do not catch. Then again, assuming anything about yourself in a positive or self-boasting manner is often, if not always, seen as arrogant and pretentious. I do try to correct myself, though.

I was – and probably to some degree still am – ableist. I started dating my beloved long before I knew about the degree or severity of their disability. I knew of a few things, but I did not know of nor did I bother to ask how they affected their life and daily routine. As we came close, we struggled from time to time because I continuously attempted to solve my beloved’s disability and problems with logic and calculations; I was trying to quantitatively measure my beloved’s mental and physical disabilities. Needless to say, I drew them to tears at one point, and as I think back about it, I am stricken with shame as I write this. For a moment, just a moment – a fraction of the quickest second, I felt my hands tremble. It wasn’t a lot; my beloved and I did not argue a lot, but the arguments we did have were rather intense and frustrating for me because of my limited perspectives. I must admit, looking back upon the arguments, that they, in a way, taught me more and more about ableism; you see, we started arguing at first, and during those arguments, they would counter me with different ideas and concepts that were alien to me. I found that I had little to fall back on in terms of rebuttal except for moot points and technicalities, which do not work outside of patents and the courts. At that point, I thought to myself that if I’ve nothing to counter my beloved’s counter, then I’m either incredibly untalented at arguments and debates or, just perhaps, my beloved had a point and I should listen instead of argue. So, I did. In fact, I started listening a lot more after I read something my beloved wrote to me. The idea was and still is simply fascinating to me and serves as the governing theme to all my current thought patterns; “The number of trees in a forest need not matter. All that matters is that there is a forest, beautiful and ever growing, ever changing.” That’s when I realized the new perspective my beloved was instilling into me. I had been, and to some extent still am, too fixated and focused on the definitions and criteria of what is or is not a disease and what is or is not a legitimate argument either for or against a possible cure and/or remedy. I was dedicating myself to trying to tell my beloved what they probably have already heard a 1,000 times before me. In essence, my beloved’s little quote is a monumental influence on how I look at all situations now; while we cannot forsake the governing dynamics and fundamental roots, focusing too heavily on the tiny details takes away from an entity as whole. Thus far, dating my beloved is more than just a humbling experience; my fiancée may have well given me a leg-up at getting into law school.

Now, about the whole D/s relationship, I’m new to that, too. From what I have gathered and learned from my loving fiancée, it is about an exchange of trust wherein both partners act within their own and their partner’s limitations in order to demonstrate a sort of emotional hierarchy. Though, hierarchy may not be the best word. D/s seems to be about exchanging services between partners to satisfy the need to feel either dominant or submissive. I didn’t actually have a need or desire to feel dominant, and truth be told, I still don’t feel an actual need, desire, and yearning to be dominant. I do, however, feel a need to satisfy my partner, and they’re satisfied by feeling submissive. Thus, I guess you could say I desire to be dominant because I desire to satisfy my partner who desires to be submissive. I’d be lying, though, if I said I’m not developing some forms of dominant mannerism. As to the type and degree of dominance I’m developing, I’m keeping that private.

I’m in two situations; I’m dating a disabled person; and I’m in a D/s relationship. When it comes to being the Dominant to my beloved, I have to keep in mind of their disabilities. There are physical disabilities that make certain situations difficult if not impossible. Then, there are certain concepts and ideas that may prove to be very mentally traumatizing. However, dating a disabled person does not mean you focus on their disabilities; that’s not different than dating a non-disabled person and focusing on their faults or features that trigger your pet-peeves. That also isn’t to say, however, that dating a disabled person is exactly like dating a non-disabled person. As I said, I do not focus on their disabilities, but I do have to keep them in mind when we’re going on about our daily lives. My partner does not need special attention, my partner needs me to simply notice, learn, and pay attention to their needs. Most of the time, a simple kiss, cuddle, and snuggle will go a long, long way.

I’m not an expert on disabilities, and I’m still ableist in some situations. I even make my own partner feel uncomfortable sometimes, but I’m still learning. I do everything I can to make my partner happy. They submit to me, and in turn, I am given the privilege and responsibility of making my beloved partner happy, safe, and loved.

the mole hill that is dermatillomania

Tags

ableism, assumptions, disability, mental health, mental illness, neurodiversity

trigger warning for description of compulsive actions (hell, i know it’s happened to me) and a long rant about society’s sexist body shaming

[image is a zoomed in snapshot of someone’s lower face. showing just the lips, cheeks and chin below the nose, the contrast between their incredibly pale skin and several open red sores is significant.]

so. i want to talk to you about dermatillomania. dermatillomania is the compulsive need to pick at one’s skin. sometimes it’s related to stress and anxiety, sometimes it’s related to bodily dysmorphia (where one perceives their body as literally warped in ways that are not apparent to society), sometimes it’s related to obsession and compulsion. sometimes it’s related to more than one of these things at once, leaving addressing it very, very difficult.

how one perceives their dermatillomania is always different. i would not be able to tell you how it feels for someone else. but i can say that for me, it’s related to obsession over skin being ‘imperfect’ with all of its little bumps and variations. i rub my fingers against my skin when i’m thinking and when i’m stressed or anxious, which makes me aware of those little bumps. and because i have ocd, and in my head it focuses a lot on what isn’t ‘perfect’ or ‘in place’, that rubbing becomes clawing. and that clawing does not stop until the imperfection is gone.

now. why did i call it a mole hill? because that’s how society perceives it. they feel that we are ‘making a mountain out of a mole hill’. that we are making a big deal over nothing, and just need to stop and act normally like everyone else.

if that’s the case, then that’s a pretty damned big mole hill.

the thing about dermatillomania and many other related anxiety or compulsion disorders is that it’s not something you can just ‘stop’. it’s triggered in one way or another, sometimes trauma, sometimes the person’s individual ability to process and handle stress (which, before people start up on that too, is neurological and thus not something that can just be ‘stopped’ or ‘chill out’). and then it becomes one of someone’s various compulsions when coping with stress. some pull at their hair. some grind their teeth. some bite their nails. and some of us pick and claw at our skin.

when you’re dealing with something that becomes a large part of how you respond to stress, it’s not exactly easy to stop. i’ve tried bandages, both on the sores themselves (or the scars and scabs they produce) and on my fingertips. i’ve tried people verbally correcting me. [1] i’ve tried people physically correcting me. [2] i’ve tried cutting my nails. and so far, nothing has worked.

why?

because what i am battling is not just my need to claw. no. what i am battling is society having taught me that our bodies are flawed, and that we have to seek out every manner possible to correct it. we have to fight against a world that says our skin must be smooth and clear, no matter what. we’re told that airbrushed models are real depictions, that these are what we have to look toward, that if we can’t achieve this we’re of little worth – if any. we battle a standard of beauty and perfection that is artificially created by industry, constantly tossed products and labels in order to make us buy ourselves into this dream world that doesn’t exist outside a magazine producer’s copies of photoshop.

and because of it, is it any wonder that most people who have dermatillomania are women? and those of us who are subject to society’s rampant sexism because of how our body is, even if we don’t necessarily identify with it or how society perceives it?

like many, i was fed this garbage from a young age. and with the development of my ocd comes compulsions shaped by society’s perception of me and my life. and so i strive internally for that perfection, for the smoothness that my fingers seek.

and yet instead of the smooth, flawless skin that society has taught us that we should reach for, sores and welts form. glaring redness that grabs people’s attention, in a fashion that is far from desired. for seeking what society has told us to seek, we are shamed for what that society perceives as disfigurement and self-injury. the skin that we try to fix, we are told to hide away because it bothers others.

because yes, people do notice. and people do comment, and people do try to correct you without you wishing them to. i have had complete strangers, that i had no desire to speak with, try to give me tips on clearing acne.

this mole hill? is not so small. this mole hill is much bigger than you perceive it to be, because it’s been told to hide for so long.

and the real mole hill is society’s lack of concern for the harm it inflicts upon people, for telling them who they must be and how and why. the real mole hill is the fact that people don’t give a damn unless your ‘disfigurement’ bothers them.

we are not making a big deal over nothing. this is a big deal. because it’s directly related to the system our society has constructed, that attacks so many people for not meeting up to some preconceived standard that is impossible to achieve.

[originally posted on tumblr]

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1. no, having people correct me when i do something i want to stop is not abuse or harassment. i’m kink, and discipline is a large part of how my mind functions. if someone i view as holding a position of authority over me that i care about and hold them to of my own accord, then i am more likely to listen to their verbal corrections over my own.

2. i don’t mean with smacks or anything. i mean gently moving my arm away from where i’m compulsively reaching to when i start to claw (typically my face). smacking me would probably just make it worse and make me lose trust in who i’ve entrusted this to.

misdiagnosis and being the crazy patient

Tags

ableism, assumptions, blog carnivals, mental health, mental illness, neurodiversity

This is my post for may’s Blog Carnival of Mental Health, developed by Astrid and hosted by the madosphere, on the theme ‘patients and professionals.

mental health professionals and i don’t have a very good track record.

ages ago, i remember my mother trying to get me to go to therapy. i declined, because i was sure at the time i was fine. this was after the hell that was middle school, but before the mental and psychotic hell that was high school. as far as i remember, the only reason she brought it up was because a psychic told her to. i remember her saying that the person insisted that i wasn’t crazy, but i still needed the help. i think she was just trying to reassure my mother that the stereotypes surrounding mental illness aren’t true, and while yes, my trauma did significantly impact my development and perspective of the world, by no means was i like society’s depiction of the crazy person that paces back and forth talking to themself(ves) [1]. that came later.

high school hit and things went to hell again. this time i became so drenched in my own darkness that i couldn’t see the reality outside of my own. this is what led to my hospitalization the year of my graduation.

that hospitalization is why i’m so skeptical of mental health professionals in regards to my own situation.

during my two week stay, i attempted to make it clear that i was hallucinating, i was delusional at the time, and yes even though because i’m crazy i knew this and could make people aware of such.

except that instead of listening to me, they went with their perspective of my health, diagnosed me with depression, fed me medication that i never needed and never worked, and forced me into social situations that made me incredibly uncomfortable. i was forced to participate in group therapy and group activities, despite my severe social anxiety, and any attempts to resist this would lead to me being written up. for those unfamiliar, being ‘written up’ is essentially like written warnings – you got only so many before your ‘privileges’ (see: group activities that i never wanted to be a part of in the first place, or use of colored pencils for drawing or writing) started to be revoked. being more afraid of confrontation than my peers at the time, i didn’t push any further. had i known the extent and reasoning behind my social anxiety, maybe i would have pushed harder.

needless to say, this was a problem. by instilling a hierarchy of power, and asserting that power in a way that worked on their perspective of the patient instead of accepting and working with input from that patient, they did not allow for the development of trust. any lack of trust, and thus any ‘acting out’ based on their perspective of the situation, resulted in the patient being punished for their ‘behavior’ instead of any acknowledgment for why they might be acting in the manner they are. not allowing for the development of trust means less communication between the patient and the mental health team (staff, nurses and psychologists/psychiatrists), and less willingness to work with each other. less communication means less progress, and can result in continuous spiraling or, like in my case, hiding every problem in order to be left the fuck alone, and eventually discharged on the idea of ‘improvement’ that was never actually there, just a farce i put up to be left the fuck alone.

now, because of that lack of development of trust in this first attempt, i have little to no trust of any mental health professional i come into contact with, meaning i’m less likely to seek help with coping with my illnesses. granted, i did eventually seek out help again, but it took an abusive relationship and psychotic breakdown to do it. that and DID – someone in our system seized control long enough to actually get us to push forward toward therapy and treatment, instead of ignoring it entirely. because we would have.

this story isn’t the first. far from it. there’s a lot of us with these horror stories, largely in part because of the stereotype that crazy people don’t know about their own mental distress and thus can’t be trusted to actually seek treatment, because obviously they’re not in touch with reality to know that they’re, well, not in touch with reality.

except for one small problem – uh, actually, frequently we do. the problem isn’t that we don’t know, though in some instances we may not. the problem is that when we do, people don’t listen to us. because in their eyes, we don’t actually know, the fact that we think we know must be a delusion. and thus they focus on their perspective of how we feel. WHAT THE FUCK?

see, treatment of one’s illnesses and disorders (be they mental or otherwise) is dependent on two factors – the professional treating the condition(s) and the patient being treated. the patient must articulate the symptoms and what they experience so the professional knows what to possibly treat, and what direction to look in when coming up with said treatment and diagnosis. the professional must listen to these described symptoms in order to come to a reasonable diagnosis that makes sense with the symptoms described. because, yanno, treatment won’t work if you’re treating a condition that’s not there.

no, just because we’re crazy doesn’t mean we’re making it up, or we’re wrong because we obviously perceive our symptoms differently than how the rest of the world does (hint: this concept doesn’t actually work, as how symptoms work is how we’re affected by them and thus perceive them). believing this creates that hierarchy, placing the ‘professionals’ above the patients instead of them working together on equal ground. and that hierarchy affects trust and how willing we are to work with those professionals in the first place. if we do not trust you, you cannot adequately treat us, and no, you can’t force treatment on the unwilling. that disconnect just makes things worse in the long run.

we might be the crazy patients, but that doesn’t mean we don’t know how we’re affected by our crazy. after all, that crazy is affecting us – we are the ones that live with it day in and day out, the hours of the days and the days of the years. we are the ones that see inside our heads, hear the thoughts racing through our minds, feel the emotions that roll up and down and inside and out. this isn’t something you can just put a hat on with shiny lights and see everything that we think and feel. you have to be able to trust us, that we’re the ones that know how mental illness affects our lives. but to know that, we have to trust you. and that doesn’t work out so well when the system and the people within work against us.

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1. i know my wording here seems awkward. basically, i use the term themself as a singular gender neutral term to refer to other individuals, while reserving the term ‘themselves’ for those of DID or plural systems. typically folks use ‘themselves’ even in reference to one individual, but due to my experiences with the DID and plural communities, and being nonbinary with a self-preference of the singular they for pronouns, that usage always feels awkward for me, so i avoid it. i understand that this isn’t typical usage, hence the clarification.

what lurks in the night

Tags

personal

there is this Thing that happens to me when i try to sleep sometimes that terrifies the shit out of me.

i don’t know what it is, or why it happens. but my body goes numb, i start to feel like i’m moving but i can’t actually move my body – i have no control over it. i try to fight against it, but the weight against me is so strong that i barely budge. and i can see my body moving without me, the room at different angles as i twirl around in my bed or fall off.

and then my eyes open, and i realize it isn’t real.

but see, it looks so real. it feels so real. i can feel every second of it, and i panic. i panic and scream internally and i want to shout out and get help from anyone i possibly can, even though no one can see me or hear me and i can’t open my mouth to utter a word.

but sometimes, what’s even more terrifying is that even when i open my eyes, sometimes it happens again. i get a quick moment of relief, and then i’m out of control over my body again.

it cycles. it can cycle anywhere from four to five times before i realize after my eyes open again, that i have to move somehow or else it’ll happen again. i shift positions and my eyes close.

and then it comes back for me.

there is no way to make it go away. no amount of shifting, no amount of mental control or comfort. as long as i lay there, it will come after me. the only way i get relief is if i leave my bed and do something else, keeping myself up until i can’t stand it anymore and my body starts to sleep for me.

only then, only then will it leave me alone. until another night when it comes to terrorize me again.

this Thing, i call it that because it is something i can never reclaim for myself. this Thing, i have no control over when it happens or how or why. it decides my fate for me. and it terrifies me. every time it starts to happen, the shouts start in my head.

NO NO NO NO NO NOT AGAIN NO LEAVE ME ALONE

and then eventually, after it’s had its fun with me, it goes away. for how long, i never know. days, months, sometimes a year or two.

i never know. not until the panic starts. not until those screams start, as i feel the numbness take over my body.

every time, i hope that it’ll go away for good. that i’ll get some sort of peace.

but i never know.

Tags

ableism, disability, mental health, mental illness, psychophobia, social conflicts

i feel like i’m floating.

laying on my back, staring at the sky as i drift upon this river of…. ???

i’m not sure. i can’t see it. i feel its waves splashing against my skin every so often, ice cold one moment and boiling the next. and each boiling wave leaves patches of scars, numb to sensation, numb to the world. until another wave splits them open, leaving the raw muscles and nerves exposed. waiting for the next wave, bracing myself for the pain to come as this unseen force jabs needles into the open wounds. waiting for another boiling wave to seal them, to numb me until the next assault comes.

but then i realize, in the fog of my mind that fractures and fades into abstract nothingness and yet pierces with such clarity for brief moments of obsession, that i do know what this river is. i know what these waves are, and why they assault me so.

can you sense it? the clattering of voices, family and friends, peers and coworkers, absorbed in their own worlds as, without their knowledge or understanding, their voices turn into those waves, those needles that pierce my exposed soul with such calculation.

this river, so carefully constructed by the structures of society, swallows up all of those it deems its victims, drifting them into nothingness one moment and screams of such intensity that one can’t see nor hear anything else the next. this river, which flows with such ferocity and yet delicacy, the master of the puppets within its currents, the puppets that attack us and yet have no understanding of why, or why we’re bleeding.

this river, which goes by the name of ableism.

this river, which goes by the name of psychophobia.

i feel it, its splashes against my limbs, the moist chill that remains as each wave fades away, the numbness of my skin as all warmth is sapped from me.

do you?

or do you sit along the banks, watching, waiting, as it swallows up another ‘neath its fangs?

will you work with us, as we fight against the current downstream, to build a dam and wrest its control? will you work with us, as we climb along the walls of this dam, limbs quivering as the pain drains every last drop of energy, to reach the top and try to find those still drifting?

or will you sit, watching, waiting, feeding this monster with each oblivious word, wondering why people are drifting away and seemingly not bothering to cry out for help?

blogging against disablism day: this divisive world we live in

Tags

ableism, assumptions, blog carnivals, disability, mental health, mental illness, neurodiversity

The Blogging Against Disablism Day logo. It is a five by four grid of various color backgrounds and colored icons of people. One of the icons is of a wheelchair user, the standard icon that is used to mark accessibility services for people with disabilities. Another icon features a person with a cane. The image links to the official release of the Blogging Against Disablism carnival for 2011.

So many hands. So many different hands. Yet, they’re all striving for the same thing.

Click.

Watch the screen flicker. Once. Twice. Three times. A wave of color, forever flowing. So many colors, and yet so few. Like a rose. The rose of sanity, pure white in color. Flicker. Watch the petals change, the colors of the rainbow morph into each other. Red to purple and back again. A never ending cycle.

What do you see today?

Look at the TV guide as zombies claw at the screen. Rotted skin, barely attached to bone. The broken nails, striving to get out. Flicker. Another zombie. Flicker. A third zombie. One, two, three. Three bodies of decaying flesh and bottled insanity, screeching as they try to climb out.

Click.

There goes a picture frame, flying across the room. This woman just found out her husband was cheating on her with her sister. Another picture frame. A lamp. A clock. Feel the gun out in the open, the bullets rushing through the air. One, two, three. Three bullets implanting themselves into a liveless body, blood staining the carpet as it tries to escape.

The rose of sanity, forever changing. Forever wilting as the petals crumble to dust. One, two, three…

Click.

One last flicker of the screen, and it goes black. Waiting until tomorrow to begin. Another day. Another rose.

this was written on October 4th of 2004, before my eventual hospitalization. typically i do not publish things that were written in my private journals. but today is my exception.

society’s concept of mental illness is connected to one idea – a starch lunacy that lacks any form of rationality, that no one ‘sane’ can connect with and understand. behaviors that seem without meaning, ideas that seem impossible, responses to worlds that do not exist to the senses of others. these are the ‘others’, the crazy ones, the insanity that cannot be trusted and must be locked away. these are the ones who, if they attempt to speak up and portray ‘rational’ thoughts, are not to be believed. after all, they’re crazy. right?

and then, for those who are able to present rational and coherent thoughts, who can articulate themselves in ways that make sense to both the person speaking and to those that are listening, their mental illness either isn’t as severe as others or as the person claims it is, or they’re faking. for attention. funnily enough, if you ask, many times us crazy folk will tell you we don’t even want the attention to begin with, we just want to be left alone!

this sort of mindset turns society’s concept of mental health into a dichotomy, where mental illness is irrationality and incoherency, and ‘sanity’ is when one is able to articulate rational, coherent thoughts while maintaining a suitable level of functionality in everyday life. and this dichotomy ignores any possible levels in-between these concepts, as well as failing to address the fact that it’s blatantly wrong to begin with. the quote above, in stark contrast to my typical posts, is an example of how rationality and coherency doesn’t determine levels of mental health, be it whether or not one is mentally ill or how ‘severe’ that mental illness is (for them).

this dichotomy is one of the reasons why so many people with mental illness aren’t taken seriously, because people assume that it’s all about raving madly, lack of control and throwing cats out windows. people ignore that when they’re communicating with people, they’re not communicating with the mental illness itself. it is a part of us, but it does not define the entirety of us, and it varies just as much as individuals themselves do. it’s also one of the many reasons why many people with mental illness do not receive adequate care. a lack of recognition for anything outside of one’s preconceived notion of what mental illness entails, and a lack of recognition for the people affected, both by mental illness and others’ asshattery.

we’re not taken seriously when we seem sane, and we’re not taken seriously when we seem insane. what kind of twisted irony is that?

kinky disability: emotional instability, sub space and sub drop

Tags

BDSM, kink, mental health, mental illness, neurodiversity, relationships, safety, self acceptance

note: i won’t be talking about dom space/drop, largely because i can’t remember how it feels or how it affected me, as it was a long time ago. my experiences with sub space are much more recent.

i don’t typically talk about my emotional instability. partially because it’s not typically present and thus doesn’t affect the majority of my life and functionality. part of it is dependent on stress, other parts dependent on medication and menstruation. but when it is present, it can leave serious impacts on my relationships with people, how i interact with people, how i respond to the world and my overall functionality. for this reason i do not consider myself emovtypical, even though the majority of the time my emotions lie in a range that society deems typical, i do have episodes where my emotional instability flares and impacts my functionality and ability to interact with the world. i consider it a part of my mental illness, as schizophrenia is associated with emotional instability, and schizotypy impacts both schizophrenic and schizotypal individuals, just in varying degrees or intensities.

of course, the other reason why i don’t like to talk about it is partially out of shame, feeling ashamed of its impact on my functionality, feeling ashamed of the things it results in, how much i can change during such moments and how badly it can impact my relationships with people – and myself. i suspect that there is a reason why i was originally diagnosed with depression – while i don’t consider it an accurate diagnosis, the people that were making that judgment and being in control of my care at the time did not know of the complexities of my mind and its relation to schizotypy, and likely the complexities of schizotypy itself. it is a vast and complicated subject, with many intersections and many misconceptions. neurology is tricky and complex, and not something many know about or understand without professional experience and education with the matter.

all of this probably doesn’t seem like an appropriate precursor to conversation about sub space and sub drop, but it is. because many folks with submissive tendencies [1] such as myself are neuroatypical and/or emovatypical, and mental disabilities have just as much of an impact on kink activities as physical disabilities do. sub space and sub drop are highly intense examples of this.

i read an article at leather and roses at one point about the connections between sub space and dissociation (note: i cannot vouch for the expertise of the individual writing the article). while i’m unsure of the specifics of their connection, due to my intimate experience with dissociation, i immediately understood the reasoning for relating the two, and can relate to descriptions and similarities as i enter sub space.

sub space, for those who do not know, is a state of mind where a person with submissive tendencies feels the world around them fade away, and the only things that seem to exist are them and the person(s) that they are submitting to. i would liken it to a moment where no desires exist other than to serve, and when one feels like they will go to any means necessary in order to serve in a way asked of them. it is a highly intense moment, rife with pleasure and emotion, a combination of contentment and a lack of anything all at once.

the point here is that while it can be one of the most enjoyable moments of the individual’s kink experiences, one that is frequently sought after or yearned for (even if not actively seeking it), it can also be very dangerous if taken advantage of by an outside source or if not taken care of properly during and after the scene. this is even more important for those of us who are emovatypical, because the emotional peaks can reach incredible levels (think of mania – and then multiply it several times) and then drop rapidly to incredible lows and possibly severe depression. it is a roller coaster of emotion and mental intensity and because of its direct relationship to the individuals in the scene, the scene itself and any instances where it can have an impact outside of these moments (such as 24/7 power exchange lifestyles), must be addressed with utmost care in order to bring the submissive down from high peaks at a careful, steady and controllable pace to help prevent emotional spiraling.

a few suggestions i have from personal experience:

note: do not take these word for word, as everyone is different and thus their responses to scenes, sub space/drop and emotions will be different. all examples are just that, examples, meant to get a person thinking about individual experiences and responses, and thus ideas that will best suit them and their given experiences.

before a scene:

• plan scenes ahead of time in order to adequately prepare for possible circumstances; do not just go into the moment head-first (pun not intended >>) when dealing with mental and emotional complexities because it can leave one caught off-guard should something go off-kilter
• prepare soothing or comforting things for each individual involved for easy access after the scene (or possibly during, depending on circumstance), such as calming scents or hot water ready for a favorite kind of tea.
• plan out ahead of time how individuals participating should respond in given situations such as flashbacks or sudden changes in emotion
• if preferable, only do scenes with people one knows and trusts, and thus individuals who are more likely to know how to respond to unexpected emotional changes (i say if preferable because some individuals may feel comfortable with doing scenes with people they don’t know as well based on rational confidence with their emotional stability, which is perfectly valid)
• if possible, try to keep scenes confined to where the people involved feel both comfortable and familiar
• for subs: if one has prior experience with sub space/drop and how it affects them, take into consideration these effects and behaviors or mindsets that can have notable impact or possible hazardous results (personal example: i dissociate heavily while in sub space, making me less aware of hazardous surroundings, esp. in regards to my physical disabilities. i can also find myself in a mindset where i will be willing to serve even in ways that are triggering for me due to past trauma, thus making me more prone to flashbacks and panic attacks if i pull out of sub space suddenly and realize this connection. i also have a tendency to strip completely, which may not exactly be a viable option depending on things like weather or environment). if possible, let others involved aware of these possibilities in case they need to respond or intervene.

during a scene:

• have options for emergency outs such as safe words/signals, red light/green light (pay close attention to yellow if brought up, as this can be a major flag), or objects at hand to drop, tug or ring at necessary stop or warning points such as a ball or a small bell
• periodically ask for input of the other people involved regarding their overall mental state, to know whether to keep going, to be cautious or to end the scene
• pay attention to possible warning signals or behavioral changes that may indicate a change in mental state in the individuals involved (this tends to be easier with people that know each other well, as every person’s body language and trigger signals are different)
• if someone is in sub space, do not take full advantage of this in hazardous ways. this includes having them submit or serve in dangerous ways or ways that could trigger them, esp. if warning signs have been present prior.

after a scene:

• make use of things that people involved find comforting (some of which can be prepared ahead of time) in order to help bring oneself into a state of calm and contentment
• if applicable, remind the people involved of how one cares about or loves one another to help avoid feelings of loneliness or abandonment that can lead to sub/dom drop
• cuddles and snuggles can be totally awesome here, and help give a feeling of comfort and reminder of care
• do not just stop abruptly and move on to doing something else – this can very easily lead to sub/dom drop as no aftercare is aiding in coming down from the intensity of one’s mental state and the scene itself

but the most important thing i can say is be aware. pay mind to everything around you, both one’s surroundings and the language and behaviors of the people involved. otherwise one can miss important cues that can result in emotional episodes, and they can be harder to respond to. and pay mind to the people’s responses to various things, both during the scene and not, in case one needs to change how they react to episodes or emergencies in case they occur. try to stay calm if possible, try to avoid panic if possible, and remember that people are people that need to be treated with respect, and that everyone is different and has their own struggles to face and what helps with them. they are still the same people you knew before, and being emovatypical is a part of who they are – respect this and treat them that way. and recognize that it’s not a matter of them just being overemotional or oversensitive. it is who they are, an intricate part of their being, and thus a part of their overall wellbeing. they just happen to have kink and subby tendencies to go with it :)

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1. the reasoning for this wording is because i do not feel as if sub or dom space are specific to those who identify strictly as submissive or dominant, and thus that they can be experienced by anyone who identifies with submissive or dominant periods such as switches.

[tw] the bullshit of ‘gypsy magic’ in the pagan community

Tags

antiziganism, assumptions, racism, Romani struggles, social conflicts

trigger warning for the inclusion of racial/ethnic slurs in a deconstructionalist manner, and short discussion and links of hate crimes.

EXTERNAL LINKS ARE NOT SAFE SPACES, DO NOT READ THE COMMENTS

i used to consider myself a part of the pagan community. i admit, i was originally one of those obnoxious teens that read generic ‘paganism 101′ books and called myself wiccan without actually understanding the depth and complexity of religion and spirituality as a whole. i felt out of place with the christianity that i grew up with, my mother recognized this (and also wanted to expose me to other options instead of just the majority) and gave me books to read (that were probably published by the company Llewellyn, which is full of bullshit – but that’s for later). it took me several years to start looking into various religions in a more in-depth fashion, learning the various perspectives, traditions, beliefs and structures of branches of christianity, various pagan and other non-christian paths. and most importantly, i started to learn about their origins and history.

and that’s when i learned that a lot of it is fucking bullshit.

now, this is not to say that the beliefs are bullshit – religious and spiritual beliefs of various sorts can be completely valid and an intricate part of a person’s life and identity. but the problem starts when those beliefs are derived from culture appropriation, unethical tactics and exploitation.

the thing that i want to target specifically, and one of the things that bothers me the most personally, is the use of the concept of ‘gypsy magic’ or ‘gypsy tarot’ in pagan practices.

first, what many people don’t realize (especially when they’re in positions of privilege, such as living in western countries and being a part of the dominant culture and/or society) is that the term ‘gypsy’ is a racial/ethnic slur. as i mentioned in a previous post, the term is used to both target and represent traveler peoples, of which are frequently stereotyped based on society’s perception of the romani and dom. it is based on a misconception that they originated from egypt, hence the ‘gyp’ portion. while the term can be reclaimed by individual people as a form of personal empowerment against racism and other forms of institutionalized oppression, it is widely regarded as a slur when used by folks of privilege who are not themselves traveler peoples (ex: the majority of white people throughout europe, where the slur is most widely used). in such a case, calling something ‘gypsy magic’ is blatantly offensive when used by those from a position of privilege, and stems from racism.

second, it is not possible for romani or dom traditions to be taught and practiced by outsiders of the culture. these traditions are passed down through family and community. and people are only considered part of these communities if they adhere to various traditional connections to their ethnic communities. just throwing things together and calling them ‘gypsy traditions’ doesn’t work – the community has to welcome you and feel that connection between you and their culture. otherwise, you are gadje - an outsider. even those brought into the community through marriage or birth may not be considered part of the culture if they are detached from various aspects that make up that culture. yes, even with romani or dom heritage, you can be gadje. on top of that, the majority of romani and dom are christian because of the (white, christian, often focusing on conversion) dominant cultures they live in. so some of the folk traditions and beliefs are beginning to slowly die out, only maintained by the few. painting all romani and dom with these traditions and beliefs ignores the slow erasure of folklore and culture through cultural assimilation.

third, the distribution of traditions painted as ‘gypsy magic’ to outside audiences en masse is a form of culture appropriation. as mentioned in the previous paragraph, the cultures of the romani and dom people are closed to those they do not welcome. taking these traditions, or even things that one labels as ‘gypsy traditions’ (even if they have no actual relation and are thus compromised of stereotypical bullshit), is appropriation of their culture for one’s own personal gain. that is stealing. and feeling entitled to doing so through excuses of ‘how do we learn about other cultures if we segregate them?’, ‘no one owns beliefs’, ‘i have a right to my beliefs’, et al, is derailing privileged bullshit. they are attempts to excuse one’s problematic behaviors, or behaviors/beliefs that stem from the problematic behaviors of others (i’m looking at you, scott cunningham and raymond buckland), and they are used to silence and destroy the voices of people calling them out or those directly affected, namely people of color (romani and dom in this case). such excuses contribute to the overall oppression of people of minorities by adding to the bullshit of the majority, while dismissing both the identities and experiences of minorities. and people believe it, because that’s what they’re told, that’s what they’re never told to question, and that’s what ‘everyone’ (see: those they’re actually exposed to) says.

and it’s fucking bullshit.

fourth, many of the traditions of ‘gypsy magic’ or tarot is based off of ethnic stereotypes, romanticizing images and ideas that are far from representative of the people these stereotypes are attached to. after all, many of those that are slandered as ‘gypsies’ aren’t even romani! folks like the pavee may even be white and have their own traditions, thus hardly the depiction of dark skinned ethnic beauties in their golden jewelry and brightly colored clothes. what’s worse, these popular depictions of ‘gypsies’ in fantasy worlds such as games, books and movies suggest that they don’t even exist anymore! like they’re some sort of magical fairies that add color and excitement (or theft and deception, like that’s so much better!) to such environments and then magically disappear from the world during the medieval times. yeah, the folks that are suffering from racial, class and cultural oppression throughout europe and various other locations throughout the world? don’t exist, apparently. those molotov cocktails being thrown into their homes and fascist organizations terrorizing entire communities just for existing? fiction, apparently. and their voices shouting at the world to stop these assaults on their peoples? just whispers in the wind.

and i am reminded of all of this every time i participate in pagan communities and someone brings up their association to ‘gypsy’ bullshit of whatever sort, when they’re first world white middle class privileged asshats filled with a personal sense of entitlement.

it’s no wonder i stopped. so many of us are unwelcome, even in communities that parade themselves as welcoming to people of all beliefs and cultures. because so often, that really means people who agree with them, and who will share their privilege and entitlement in such environments. so often, if someone speaks up about problematic appropriation or stereotyping, their voices are drowned out by excuses from positions of power.

i don’t bother arguing anymore. so i speak up in environments where words will be heard for what they are, and identity and heritage can be respected. because maybe then people will listen and respect those that are being harmed.

other

Tags

assumptions, cissexism, personal, QUILTBAG, trans erasure

every word you speak
feels like a knife to the chest
every assumption, every erasure
makes me feel alien, like i don’t belong
like i shouldn’t exist
tears come near my eyes, but you cannot see
i cannot let you see, because you isolate me
and you won’t understand
just why you sting me so
i dare not speak up, for fear of those words
the words that seem so benign at first
without meaning, without intention
out of fear that they will change
from lack of concern to laughter
from ignorance to denial
from welcoming to hostility
those tears, they never fade
but they become diamond
encasing my body
shielding me, numbing me
from the poison that is words
from the dagger that is language
wielded by society, culture
and this construct assigned to me
without will, just for existing
for this crime i’ve committed
of attempting to be me
these words, they wash off me
cast to the side, with their roles
and assignments of sex
of femininity and masculinity
of mother or father
of ma’am or sir
and yet, these tears remain
waiting, quietly, for that moment
when i sit alone and see
this form that you gave me
but what should be me.