We Don't Read Your Blogs

Let me specify.

We are talking about most mental health blogs. otherwise we do read blogs. These days we read more blogs than books, much to one of our displeasure.

We do hit a mental health blog on very rare occasion, particularly from new followers on Twitter, just long enough to trigger us into a bad place and then move on, because who wants to be in a bad place. Triggers suck when they are the bad kind, that's a primary reason for avoiding many mental health blogs, as well as struggling to control many aspects of our life, and what we are exposed to. Honestly, while we love Twitter...it can be a massive trigger for some of us, but only occasionally.

While some people find comfort in reading our blog, as many have told us, and we indeed strive to reach out TO others, we do NOT strive to reach back. Does that even make sense? We're not looking for a life vest, or a buoy. We work towards being our own. That's what we're trying to articulate.

We've never been the kinds to seek approval from people, other than just sorta blending in a bit for as long as we could. So if this, or anything else we say in this entry, pisses you off, please feel free to comment, but know we will either a) not care or acknowledge it b) care too much and flip out c) be triggered into some sort of defensive mode that may end poorly d) all of the above and more. It's what happens when we share the same blog, the same body, the same life structure.

Image Source

The Boyfriend makes Russian Roulette jokes all the time. All barrels are loaded up in this place. Sometimes it's not eggshells that The Boyfriend tiptoes over with some of us, it's shards of broken glass.

We're lovely though...or so he has said...on occasion...

Back at er.

Yes, we do have friends with mental illnesses, some similar to ours, some different, if they write we read their writing, but we, like them, are not seeking a group where we can talk about what is "wrong" with us all the time. Or a place to complain. Or a place to act like we are better than others, or worse than others, or more mentally ill than others. Life is not a competition, or a pity party. For us, it just is and we can't wallow in our problems, because if we did that from the start...well...what life would we have then?

"Mmm, you make us sound sorta like an arrogant bitch."
"Who does she think she is?"
"I don't want enemies."

You see, we write, about our life, our experiences, our thoughts, this is our therapy. We no longer see a therapist, we haven't in over ten years. We do not take medications, we haven't in almost two years. And while we are sure there are many out there who write similar to us, we do not desire to connect with pain...we have enough of our own. We don't need a hole to wallow in; we are susceptible to falling in them, so we choose to avoid those of other people...we end up digging enough of our own anyway.

"Why are we even writing this."
"Who do you think you are?"
"It's okay, make us seem like a bitch. Makes me happy."
"I'm not being a bitch, I'm being honest."
"Call it what you want."

We don't join/follow mass amounts of heavy mental health blogs, while we provide links to some of them...we have a low tolerance for visiting them.We get misunderstood, we think; and while we're not overly concerned about it, many of us don't want people's feelings to be hurt. Feelings hurt because we don't read their blogs, follow them back on Twitter, Friend them on Facebook.

Many of us tend on self-awareness, and it may sound stupid, but sometimes it's a burden. Some us can also pick up on emotions, moods, even very subtle shifts, of other people (some call that empathy) even among strangers...a lot of the time in real life, but sometimes in writing too. Particularuly those that we can identify with. Honestly it makes some of us EXTREMELY uncomfortable, exhausts us, and/or sometimes makes us feel paralyzed. We can't all be Melody all of the time. (she's the one of us who has very few, if any emotions...she is void of most feelings outside of our system*)

Triggers, empathy...everything...we just can't read your blog, your Facebook status, your Twitter feed, if you use it as a platform to focus on all your mental health problems with negative thought and/or no illustrated discourse on how you are working to solve them. Other people may enjoy that...just not a huge percentage of us.

For our own mental health we don't read the blogs, books, the texts (any more than we have to in order to provide valuable sources for people who read ours) or watch movies (purposely) that deal with specific mental illnesses, one being our own.

Understandably we may not be able to participate in any Mental Health Month Blogging activities, once again, like last year, after we publish this Possibly because what we wrote here today might upset the wrong people. We also realize we may lose readers because of this, but we write so much than just mental health here...

~ Frank et al

Note: the coloured sentences are conversation we had with each other while writing.

*Triggers: Conversion symptoms or body memories. Physical phenomenon such as pain, smells, tastes, etc.; reaction to stimuli; sometimes causing a re-experience.
*For more terminology: http://wearejcmf.blogspot.com/p/dissociative-identity-disorder_05.html

Bad Day

Twenty-four hour headache.
Can we cry?
Crying is for babies.
You suck.
Have a cookie.
<Bad day>

The "Death" of Standby and the "Birth" of a Villain

This past week we called out a recent but long time lover, as a villain.  We realize we can’t totally blame him for the things he said, we just think his timing is fucked right off the charts. But it always is, just like everyone else.

I have to be honest; his message wasn’t “un-provoked” by nothing; nothing but the truth anyway. It was just the end result of our final attempt to get him to understand what has been going on in our head, and why TOG had to leave.  He just took it as a personal slap in the face, because he didn’t get what HE wanted. Guess what.  Story of our life.  So guess how bad I feel for him?

What makes Standby a villain to us?  Well, in our case, a villain is someone who has stood by you for 3 years, who professes to have loved you all along. A villain is someone who entices a girl to cheat on her boyfriend, (a good friend of his, actually) and then “accuses” her of being a Vile Temptress; then drops her for another woman at his first opportunity. The Villain also attempted to seduce her away, whether intentional or not, from another boyfriend, at the first sign of weakness, years after the first time. He (formerly TOGs Significant Other) saw it, that’s why he hated him. Others saw it too. 

[To the Villian:
You are a villain, my “friend”, and it chokes me to use that word, friend, in reference to you, now, as I sit here burning with anger. But not to worry, it’s not just you – it’s almost everyone.  For you, however, it’s for what you’ve written to me. You will surely suffer in your mind for saying such a thing to a person you never, clearly, took seriously and couldn’t possibly have loved; we really don’t need to keep telling you how much we dislike you, you’ll suffer enough on your own.  And we say dislike, because there is a thin line between love and hate, and I don’t want to tow that line with you.]

The Villains’ weakness has always been pretty girls. He only wanted TOG for the same reasons everyone else did. She was a fucking doormat who couldn’t think for herself, who would bend over backwards for friends – through her entire life – just to be rejected by them when they couldn’t cope with her “problems”.

We feel that, without context, The Villian will look worse off without the full story. But maybe not.  You’ll have to tell us.  Fabulous People tend to think what he's said was completely unwarranted, but then again, they’ve been here for ME, and they were there for TOG just before she left us; they just had no chance to save her this late in the game.

In any case, the event that set off the following chain of messages was a text confession that The Villian (formerly Standby) messaged telling us he had broken a promise, and had read our blog.  Clearly he wasn’t happy with what he read; I don’t blame him, but I was being honest.  And I was being honest with him all along, she tried to tell him on more than one occasion - but she was scared; if my readers would like to read into it, you can find all posts pertaining to Standby in some way, or another here. (http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/search/label/Standby).

And now, I present to you…the transcript of the death of Standby.

FRANK:
“I am sorry if I am the reason you are feeling ill. I’d feel ill if I were you and reading that too…
I told you I am crazy
You didn’t believe me
I’m battling myself right now
I haven’t been able to tell anyone anything
I am sorry
For everything. All of me is sorry
I won’t be seeing you for awhile”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:
“That’s going to hurt, not seeing you
I am sorry too”


FRANK:
“There is nothing I can do to fix this. I am not well. I haven’t been. I don’t know what to do.”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“Why don’t you want to see me though?
there is always something we can do to fix this.”

FRANK:

“Please don’t text me again. I am not well. You’ve already seen enough of my crazy. Everybody has at this point.

Leave me alone.”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:
“No. You’ll always mean a lot to me and I’m willing to give you some space, but I won’t leave you alone. I’m sorry this isn’t going to work out for us, but I wrote on FB, all I want is my friend [our former name] back.”

FRANK:

“She not here anymore”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

 “I don’t believe that and never will. The [our former name] that I love is in there somewhere and very close at that. You can get rid of Frank easier than you think.”

FRANK:

“Leave me alone”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“Never [our former name]”

FRANK:

“You are making me angry. Please.”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“Ok. You know where I stand and how I feel about our friendship so contact me when you’re ready.”

A couple days later….

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“I apologize for breaking the silence. I just need to know if I’m going to run into either of you at [insert musician friends name]’s show tonight, else I won’t go”

FRANK:

“Either one?" [I tried to call him after this]

NO ANSWER

FRANK:

“Yeah…don’t explain yourself. Don’t worry about running into me anywhere. I hardly leave my apartment but for going to work.”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“I was away from my phone. I’m sorry. I wasn’t not responding.

I’m trying to get used to the idea of Frank, but I don’t know how to refer to you now. That’s what I meant by either one.”

FRANK:

“Fine. You don’t need to worry about seeing me unless you are in the [insert area of city] I don’t plan to leave the vicinity unaccompanied.
You can stay as far away from me as you want.”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“What about the conference?”

FRANK:

“Just don’t come near me. You clearly couldn’t ask the questions you needed answers to the first time and I don’t feel comfortable around anyone who won’t talk to ME.”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“I am not sure what you mean by me not asking questions. And I’m more than willing to let you talk. I’ve been trying to respect your request that I leave you alone. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve wanted to make contact pretty much constantly since Friday.”

FRANK:

“Well, you clearly had questions if you felt like being the very last person in her life she could trust

To break their promises

And lie”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“You’re right, [our former name], in that I broke a promise to you, but I didn’t lie about it. I told you straight away and apologised”

FRANK:

“And accused her of lying, which she never did”

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

“I really do want to talk to you. I want us to be friends again. I want to accept who you are. I admit that the last one is going to be challenging, because I don’t think Frank and I like each other very much right now. But I really hope we can change all that someday soon. Please let’s aim for that. Please.

And in terms of asking more questions I would never have thought to ask if you were mocking me and making me look like an ass on the internet for all to see. Insert my interjection here, NOBODY KNOWS WHO HE IS, save two people who really could give a fuck - unless he shared my link, in which case, DOUBLE ASSHOLE

FRANK:

Fuck off, yeah, it’s all about you.

Nobody knows it was u

Nobody knows it was her

Nobody we knew was reading it Can't say that now, can we

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

Was I pushing you around?

FRANK:

You weren’t listening when she was trying to ask for help

You know what, read it all…start with the journal, read her story

STANDBY/THE VILLIAN:

You told me otherwise Didn't fucking stop him, and might I say, we had a conversation just prior to this where we discussed mental illness diagnoses and talked about my past, and all the abuse in my past

FRANK:

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t good at asking for help

I am, and now I know who to ask

And how to do it

Read the blog top to bottom

Get to know what she went through, some of it is vacuous but read it.

Read the poetry

Understand
Then talk to me again, in the meantime keep pitying your selfish pride.”

To read his final response that came the next day check out his post: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2011/02/to-human-if-indeed-thats-what-you-are.html

Bringing Frank to Work, Frustration, and Tasty New Characters

Franks in for the long haul, she even insisted on coming to work with me today.

Frank doesn't always have good ideas. (think: a bring-your-daughter to work day kind of disaster, if your daughter is an insane reflection of yourself)
-----------------------------------------------------
Highly distracted and keyed up on...life? Frank and I embarked on an adventurous day at work ("I'm not even supposed to be here today").  We had a fun day, even though we probably drove people nuts - together we are a LOUD, unstoppable force.

Spending some one-on-one time with Frank, (door closed and classical music to bring us back to earth), got us chatting via some inner-dialog; something The Other Girl has a hard time doing without Franks control; generally resulting in the spewing forth of everything that comes into her mind, out into the vast space that surrounds her. The Other Girl, she's just has no self-control - you step out for two minutes and she creates disasters.

Turns out, while TOG ("The Other Girl") may like Standby; Frank is set on destroying what they have.  Overnight rendezvous' with Standby have become increasingly...disappointing (unless we insert a little FaNtAstic fantasy); and don't let us forget the irrationality of sharing a bed with a cuddler. For fucks sake, there is a time limit (I like to think under 5 minutes us acceptable...but that's the high end), then you go to your corner, and I go to mine. That's (one of the reasons) why I have a king sized bed. There is a time and place for the cuddling (TOG likes the cuddling more than I do), and there is a lot of time for snuggles, cuddles, and other affection - outside of the bed. Frank is a little particular.

Funny conversation interjection here, to give a glimpse of what it's be like to share a bed with Frank:
Seeing as we, Frank and I, get up early in the morning, Franks not always in the mood for that third go around (yes, third, sometimes more, Frank loves a good marathon) before bed.  

So, when Standby inquired about the next session, Frank explained to him that we were tired, but: "If you need to 'help yourself out' in the middle of the night you can just cum on me while I sleep.  Just make sure you clean me off before I wake up ...and try not to get it on the sheets."

He got a good laugh, but Frank was dead serious.

Anyway. You can't believe I wrote that (and, yes, I actually said it) - but you are the one reading it - think about that.

What was once the BEST I ever had is now, sadly, taking back seat to knowing what Frank and I could be having; at the very least on a physical level (I've told that girl she can't have that one, no matter how much she might want him...still, she remains, hopelessly, devoted). Can't blame her really, we both really like him, he is pretty FaNtAstic...she's just more irrational about it than I am - even though we'd both do anything he asked (and we think we've nearly proven that). Such is the nature of a submissive (especially this one). Good thing he doesn't know how much control he could actually have (strange, since he clearly knows what he's doing), but to what end?

The Other Girl (who, by the way, contains almost all the characteristics that Frank didn't/doesn't want) is doing aces on getting us to stop smoking. Even if she is using her own warped reasoning/logic for doing it.  She wasn't told to, but sometimes she does things because she thinks it's what we need, and whatever reasoning she can come up with, she uses - I let her take control of some stuff - but not to much, that's how we started smoking again, and that's how we get ourselves tied up in crazy shit (mmm, tied up).

She insists, as she explained to me, that we should be the best we can be for him, even if he doesn't know it, doesn't ask it of us, and definitely doesn't care. It's why we quit smoking, it's why we drug ourselves to hot yoga last night, and really pushed through those stretches/poses, through that pain (oh, mmmm, the pain), all the while thinking of FaNtAstic fun to be had.

Is it me, or is there a lingering someone in the back of Franks mind? We are not convinced that, together, we haven't just traded one addiction for another.

Seeing as how I've taken over this shoddy blog, I've made an executive decision to blog without restraint. This means re-appearances of some of our, and your, favorite characters...and some new ones!

Speaking of; bringing Frank to work is like one big mental fiasco. Especially since TYM (Tasty Young Morsel) arrived.  No worries though; Frank knows to behave herself at work. Plus, I mean, really, the things Frank could do to that cute little puppy...we just laugh hysterically thinking about it...he'd have no idea what hit him. Mind altering references come to mind.

TOG, she's the one with the self control problems, she's the one who got us into all this trouble anyway, making me have to take over so much of her life.

In any case, even if she hasn't been told she's not allowed even a nibble of TYM, she knows she's not allowed; devotion, yes, and rationality - she is capable of it. Devotion, more than rationality, of course.

Conclusion/Decision

Franks decision has been made after a weekend of talking things out with Standby, and right on time for her February 1^st deadline!

The tipping point to initiate a conversation, one that had to take place eventually anyway, was my asking him if it bothered him, knowing I was still friends and hanging around with FNA. He said it didn't bother him, that he doesn't like “him” (he won't use his name) but, no, it didn't.

Then I took a shower. Thinking if I were in the opposite position I would certainly have problems with the whole situation, but then, I know the whole story - at least my end of it.

When I got out he asked, trembling, why I had asked him that (is it my imagination or was he just on the computer? Was he reading my blog?!). I told him that last time "they" were in the same proximity I noticed his mood was...different. He followed this up by asking if it was, in fact, over; but the way he said it, the change in his face and voice, told me that he probably knew and now was not the time to lie (plus he knows ALL of my tells - and has told me on several occasions that I am a terrible liar. I am; unless it absolutely calls for it because, as you know, I am not a fan of dishonesty)

“I don't know” I say. I am being truthful at the time. I really didn't.

“You don't know?” he asked, slightly astonished.

“Look, I don't know what's going on, he isn't really telling me anything” I say, pacing the living room.

“I don't understand” he says, “I thought it was over”

I faltered, stammered and then, slightly tearful, admitted to my feelings for FNA.

“I like him” I say, and tell him that I am “trying to work through it and get over my feelings”; and that's the part he never understood about the whole thing, but now it made more sense to him at this point and he began to cry. We talked for awhile, about the whole situation, there was crying and hugging and apologizing, in all combinations. He said it just confirms his “nice guy finishes last” belief, and figures my whole attraction to FNA is because he's a “bad boy” *insert Franks giggles here*

He also, finally, agreed with me that I am, in fact, slightly crazy. He also told me I need to see a therapist, which made me angry...and when I am angry I cry (it beats breaking my hand hitting a wall – or a person). After a longer discussion on therapy, and how at this point I didn't think it would do any good (been there, done that), we decide that maybe it's not the best for me.

“I peeked behind the curtain” he says.

“And you saw a naked girl dancing wildly, and stepped right in!” I joke back to him. Because despite everything that he and I have been through in the past three years, we are still able to laugh about painful subjects, we are still able to be friends and we will always be there for each other – no matter what.

We talked and discussed “us” and we came to an agreeable conclusion. And Frank came to a conclusion/decision of her own.

I apologize to my readers because, for now, my decision is secret. And with THAT, they both (FNA and Standby) will be to be removed from the focus of my blogging, and should matters between the three of us arise again, it will not be blogged about until it has a final conclusion; I will still be blogging about sex, dating topics and my crazy opinions on stuff, as they come up, in addition to more moderate topics.

Mmmmm, this cake is goooood. I hope it ends up being a big cake because, boy, Frank loves cake.

Dead End

Nothing is clear, even after hours of talking with Standby (I sooooo need to change his name - he has always  officially been 'Sensational Standby' but for various reasons I have problems with referring to him as SS - and 'Standby' doesn't really express how important he is); though he has gotten some additional insight on what makes me tick the way I do (stories from much, much, younger days). With this new knowledge he claims to have a better understanding of me, and even with all the fucked up shit I poured onto him, he still wants to “wait” for me to get to the place I need. I told him he can't wait, it's not fair to him. He says despite the fact he is not feeling optimistic about “getting” me in the end, he can't not wait. This [his lack of optimism] doesn't have any relation to the FNA issue, as far as he is concerned that has completely ended...and it has, hasn't it.(?) Boooooo.

SIGH

The night was a gentle splattering of questions and answers, pouring out of feelings (no tears on my end), ending on a light note - until I was stupid and checked my messages. (I never should have sent one first...stupid woman)

In came a message from FNA...debasing my “feelings” (his “emphasis” - but maybe he is just debasing feelings in general, not necessarily mine, doubt it though) neatly, and with the swipe of an insertion of a single quotation. Clouds passed over my eyes, and being as transparent as I am, Standby, who happened to be nearby and watching me, immediately became concerned.

“What's wrong” he asks, gently (I can see him putting things together in his mind, jumping to correct conclusions).

“Some people just like to fuck with me” I say point blank. Maybe his name should change from FNA to SA.

Dead end.

Conversation #3

My first "get to know you" day with Experiment #1
The first sign there was going to be a communication barrier. 

The Plumber: "Why don't you say much, you're so quiet"
Me: "I'm just being judicial in what comes out of my mouth"
The Plumber: "What?"
Me: "I'm just trying to watch what I say" *internally rolling eyes*


I don't care if this makes you laugh, it makes me laugh thinking that I went out on more dates with him after this.

Conversation - #2

While at home watching a movie....

Significant Other: *cough**cough* "ug. I'm dying"
Me: "I'm a little sorry to hear that."
Significant Other: "What?"
Me: "I'm a little sorry to hear you're dying."
Significant Other: "Don't be. I'm taking you with me."

Kidding.  I hope.

A Conversation - #1

Conversation I had yesterday while walking out of grocery store chain:


Me: "I'm so tired of this"
Significant Other: "Tired of what"
Me: "Everything.  This.  Everything."
Significant Other: "Are you breaking up with me?!"
Me: "Yes.  I am breaking up with you while we are walking out of the SuperStore (grocery stores name)... No.  I'll wait until we get home."


The woman walking in front of us thought this was humorous, so maybe somebody else will.