AAAAAAGHHHH

Well I managed to sign into Bluesky by setting bsky.social as my hosting provider on the login screen. I’ll take my damn rubber duck now. -Allēna

#ATProtocol #OpenVibe #technology #troubleshooting #whereTheFuckIsMyInternalScreamingTag

Well, shit. We do take after our father…

Do you ever have one of those moments where you just sit back and go “Jesus Henry Christ, I’ve become my father!”

Well, my system is having one.

The fact that we have a chaos blog itself, the articles and thoughts we’ve begun collecting and sharing under the UsPol tag, or even the fact that we write, occasionally create visual art of all kinds, and converse pretty damn prolifically should have been our first clues, as to our Xavier Behavior, but I had a pretty fucking big one last night over something relatively minor.

The fact that we sleep on nights where it’s not cold as a witch’s tit in an iron bra with nothing but a heavy duty top sheet over us.

Xavier would do that constantly. He’d get too warm otherwise!

Shit. 🤣

-Allēna

#DadThings #DIDThings #dissociativeIdentityDisorder #father #ramble #thinking #weather #whereTheFuckIsMyInternalScreamingTag #Xavier

A brief compendium of thoughts I thought in the shower tonight after being alone for most of today (another poem)

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So I Think I May Be More Aroace Than Originally Estimated??

I’ve been doing some Thinking about how my brain works, and it would seem that my particular DICK HEAD COMBINATION OF AUDHD gives me the worst traits of both autism AND ADHD. Like, if given enough stimulants and time, I can hyperfocus forever on something I’m fascinated with to the point where I learn an ungodly amount of information about it and retain nearly all of it. Not just that, but I make creations with that knowledge, too. This fucking blog, for example. It’s linked in with the Fediverse via ActivityPub and Alex Kirk’s masterful Friends plugins, etc.. My numerous special interests have been combining, reshuffling and making unholy bastard children in my mental Back 40 on this tiny hell site since May because of the way my cracked brainhole works.

Conversely, in order to socialize, I have to focus on whatever social thing is going on around me completely and let myself dissolve into it. Switching between whatever the fuck project has taken hold of my mind and going into a social activity of any form is a multistep process that requires me ACTUALLY MANUALLY SHIFTING MY BRAIN AWAY from the project rabbit hole and into the social one. And there is a grouchy hell to pay if I’m interrupted mid project.

However, I thought about it a step further. I have pretty much always been able to discern the difference between the feelings I get when the various happy chemicals, dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin, are triggered in my brain, body, etc., and upon further contemplation, I began to wonder if that’s why my particular bastard flavor of AuDHD is such a bastard to begin with. Because what I noticed from years of combing back through my system’s memories both pre and most massive integration is that my happy chemicals seem to be fucking heavily partitioned, and perhaps that’s why I can discern the difference between the feelings they give me in the first place. Hence that’s probably why I have to manually shift between projects (dopamine) and socializing (oxytocin).

Serotonin is a whole other can of worms for me and I have to manually induce that bitch, too. It often takes days and that’s a whole OTHER post. I might write about that bastard chemical later, lol. She is a cruel mistress 🤣

Last night, a long time aroace friend dropped me into a Facebook group called [aroace confusion intensifies]. I’ve identified as demi-aromantic/demi-asexual for some time, but as I kept relating to more and more posts, I thought more and more about the happy chemical partition theory I have going and all of my relationships, both current and past, and how my batshit brain might play into ALLLL of that.

Now, I do experience attraction to SOME people. But with the whole “having to shift my brain manually into a state where it won’t scream when I need to socialize” thing, the frequency in which I fall into random projects, and the fact that I experience a near complete lack of linear time and object permanence, said attraction takes a VERY LONG TIME to form, if it ever forms at all. Deep, genuine, romantic attachment to a person takes EVEN FUCKING LONGER. Because what the ENTIRE fuck is a “romance” as society has established it, anyway? So it takes my crippled ass YEARS sometimes to get a damned clue. And I think my cracked brainhole is why, lmao. Polyamory has been a lifesaver in that regard because in order to have a healthy polyamorous relationship, the people involved HAVE TO ENGAGE IN A HEFTY AMOUNT OF NEGOTIATION FROM THE OUTSET about expectations and things about the relationship, which my clueless ass can DEFINITELY get behind. 🤣

So unfortunately, when person number ten billion comes up to me is like “LAZARUS. I LOVE YOUR WORK. I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU. PLEASEEEEEE DATE ME, ETC”, more often than not, I have just emerged from my mental Laz Cave, haven’t seen or interacted with a soul in fourteen hours or more, and haven’t shifted into Oxytocin Mode yet, which is necessary for human bonding, so I’m like,

“uh. What year is it again?”

Stay tuned for more (brainhole) magic, gremlins.

-Lazarus

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A Classic Example of What Not to Do

Hello, everyone! Lazarus here. I was talking with Emerson about this web design class he was sitting in today, and we both came to the conclusion that I would be Immediately Sacked if I ever taught a web design class in real life. However, that did not stop my exceedingly sleepy brainhole from vividly imagining a darker universe in which I was, in fact, put in charge of teaching Web Design Class.

Here are a few, very imaginary scenarios of me teaching said class.

As you can see, I should never ACTUALLY teach Web Design Class. I am far too cantankerous for that. However, I found it hysterically funny to imagine these scenes.

I should probably skitter off and get some more sleep. Before I leave, however, have one more, completely unrelated scenario as a treat.

I hope y’all enjoyed my Sleepy Brainhole Fiction. Jesus indeed wept this day.

Stay tuned for more magic!

-Lazarus ✨🪕

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Tales From The Blanket Lump

Hey, everyone. Lazarus here. Sorry for going fucking dark for the last little while.

Lumine visited this past week, during which time I was so goddamned stressed my body came inches from basically falling apart. It wasn’t his fault at all, and he was in fact a most excellent baby. If anyone is to blame, it’s Zelda for dropping the ball when it came to logistics and stressing Emerson and myself out so goddamn badly it started to take a physical toll on both of us. I ended up getting everything set up for Lumine’s arrival and picking him up from the train station pretty much single-handedly because if I hadn’t, he would have been marooned there for a couple hours at the very least, which would not have been Emerson’s fault, he had to work and could not escape early.

Emerson and Lumine bonded quite well, and Lumine actually bonded so well with Zelda’s legendarily shy and skittish cat and made me happy stim so hard in the process that he got an invitation to move up here once more shit shakes out on all of our ends, so that’s absolutely and legitimately lovely.

That leaves ongoing drama with Zelda, which sent me into a chronic pain flare across three body systems from which I am still recovering and now I have a chest cold to boot. I appear to have gotten so damn stressed that I started my menstrual cycle a week early, which most likely knocked out my immune system, allowing for this shit to happen. Oh, and Lumine is fucking sick, as well. I’m fucking sick of the interpersonal stress, and I’m sick and tired of it making me sick and tired.

So, I’ve essentially dropped my weight where a lot of shit is concerned and have stuck myself in a lump of blankets to sleep off this chest cold most of the time. Sleep has always been my favorite alibi when I don’t want to get involved in interpersonal nonsense, as most of my close people know that my sleep is sacrosanct and I do not get much of it.

When I haven’t been asleep, I have been watching Netflix, eating delicious food that Emerson made, or calling and hanging out with people that don’t stress me the fuck out. In other words, I am pretty intentionally being fucking useless to people who are causing a great deal of chronic stress because I quite simply do not have the energy to deal with this shit anymore. Like… I am so drained by this shit that my body will just make me pass the fuck out rather than deal with it. I quite literally physically can’t, and I’m going with my body’s cues here.

Hell yeah for becoming ungovernable and unusable.

Sometimes, though, my brain is tired and my body isn’t. That’s when I just shut my eyes for a bit and chill and let my brain rest and wander for a minute away from my phone or whatever the hell I’ve been doing that’s been making me so tired. It helps, and whenever I regain the capacity to get back to the task at hand, I get back to it.

During one of those brain naps, I got the idea for what could turn into my sixteenth album once my executive dysfunction releases its hold on me. I haven’t been able to play my instruments or record anything for awhile due to being so damn tired and stressed, but I hope I’ll eventually get back to it by prioritizing energizing people and things. I always do. Sometimes I just need a brain nap. Or an actual nap.

I’ve also discovered that watching Netflix helps get my brain in order when I want or need to spend long periods of time alone by acting as a sort of other presence or presences in the room so that it’s easier to both keep track of time (something I don’t have a concrete sense of without an anchor, like music or TV) and a semblance of human company without the pressure to engage back.

It’s easier to eat, stay hydrated, and generally take care of myself with shows I enjoy as an external anchor point. And considering that most of my stress is interpersonal, sometimes it’s nice to just…be able to listen, watch, and get invested in shit without having to do something about it, you know?

I also haven’t let myself really get invested in fiction in a long ass time (around a decade or longer) since I tend to get extremely deeply invested in anything I enjoy beyond my own fiction, so it feels wonderful to be a fucking fan of shit again. Emerson got me hooked on a show called The Magicians on a hunch that I would like it, and it’s honestly like what would happen if The Chronicles of Narnia and Doctor Who had a more dark, more fucked up baby than the both of them, and I am unfortunately quite invested in this bloodbath fuckshow. It reminds me a fair bit of my audio drama The Third Prophecy, and so a lot of the dark shit in it doesn’t really bother me, surprisingly. It’s the sort of thing I would write, and I am of the firm belief that real people are far scarier and more fucked up.

If you can handle the extremely dark tomfuckery, I highly recommend it.

Well, dearly beloved hooligans, I am getting tired again, so I must go rest my mind once more. Whee. I love y’all. Stay tuned for more magic ✨

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A short post, I think.

Hey, everyone. I have very little brain power right now, but I wanted to drop a mental image/vision I had in the sort of twilight state between sleeping and waking earlier while I was trying to nap. That failed miserably, as this image freaked me out so badly that I haven’t really been able to calm myself down since. I saw the phrase “mene, mene, tekel, upharsin” written in red on a public bathroom wall in a nearby grocery store. This phrase originally appeared in the book of Daniel in the Bible as a warning to the king Nebuchadnezzar that his days as ruler were about to come to an end. I believe it’s also the origin of the modern phrase “the writing is on the wall”. I often see things in that sort of twilight state, but this was not the sort of thing I was expecting my brain to conjure up. I’m an ex Mormon who had a special interest in the Bible for many years, but I haven’t thought about the Book of Daniel with any degree of seriousness since before my first marriage, and given world events, this is a strange thing to see/start thinking about suddenly.

I don’t like this, and have a splitting headache now, which often accompanies the times I See Shit. So I’m going to attempt to pass out now. Happy early 11/11 portal day to all who plan on observing it tomorrow, and here’s hoping there’s no more weird shit in my brain for the time being. I need a good night’s sleep.

Your very rattled sorcerer,

Lazarus.

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Hello, everyone! This is Lazarus again. I have been dealing with a mindfuck of a month that I can’t recall if I mentioned in my last post. However, the brunt of the mindfuckery is over and I’m just recuperating now. I have had no idea what to say and my brain has felt like a massive pile of goo, so the overwhelm has largely kept me from writing. However, I figure if I let the overwhelm and my guilt about the overwhelm continue to keep me from writing, I won’t ever write. So now I’m gonna put SOMETHING on paper for y’all because fuck perfection, in all honesty.

The integration I mentioned in the last post has held. I am still just one guy in this mind, and the cPTSD is a bitch and a half. Combine that with AuDHD that’s an intrinsic part of my brain and well…. I constantly have to keep my anxiety and anger in check and make sure I’m in a decent place before socializing with anyone, really, or else I swear the ghost of my late great uncle speaks through me and it isn’t pretty. He was a cantankerous and iconic man who was widely speculated to be gay and everyone loved to poke him for his reactions. He would fucking explode, much to everyone’s delight. So I constantly have to keep THAT side of me in check. It’s a helluva time. I am about nine months sober from alcohol and I’ve largely quit using weed as well, and let me tell y’all… I have not wanted a drink more in the last month more than I have in this entire sobriety journey.

Conversely, however, these cravings give me a solid cue as to what still needs work in my life. I crave a drink when I am stressed, and my chronic health issues often flare when I’m that stressed, too, and gods do I feel like an overworked manager at present. So when I get this way, I know I need to deal with the thing or things that are stressing me out that badly so that I can get peace/a break/what have you. I then deal with who or what is stressing me out head on and the cravings and often my physical pain and fatigue subside as well.

One of the biggest stressors that is currently getting unfucked is Emerson and Zelda’s relationship. I’ve had to lay down the law with both of them and say with quite a bit of force “actually FUCKING talk to each other and unfuck your shit so that most of Emerson’s and my conversations aren’t him spiraling to me about how shit’s fucked with y’all and I’m stuck in the middle feeling like an overworked manager”. Both of them had been doing great work on their own getting their own shit together, but Zelda needed to know how their side of their relationship with Emerson was making BOTH of us feel. Things have been improving since Emerson and I gave them that metal chair of a conversation.

Additionally, I love polyamory, but I’m coming to realize how badly I HATE getting caught in the middle of other relationships and having to serve as mediator of any kind. So I’ve been talking to everyone and letting them know – usually more gruffly than I would like – my feelings on the matter if things like this arise repeatedly. These aren’t my relationships, even if I’m dating everyone involved, and I’ve started running a tighter ship for my own mental health because I just can’t. I didn’t have that sort of freedom to speak up as a child or teenager or in previous relationships, but now that my relationships are healthier and my loves are receptive, I have started voicing my feelings point blank because ultimately that is my responsibility and shit won’t get any better unless I do. I used to live my life in the shadows where I knew the people around me didn’t look. As I heal and sort through my bullshit, I’m learning to take that scared 18-25 year old of the shadows and introduce them to the light. It’s terrifying. Viscerally terrifying. But the way my close people have responded is lovely.

Now that shit is getting sorted locally, I have additional mental, physical, and emotional bandwidth to start connecting and reconnecting with people I haven’t been able to since shit has been such a trashfire here. I’ve been bonding more closely with my other partners – including a lovely new girlfriend whom we shall call Princess – and swapping memes and music and random rambles about our days. Hell, I just sent my girlfriend out East who is an avid reader of this blog when I actually post a random string of messages about the delicious trout I ate for lunch, haha. Vulnerability is AWESOME. We have been in talks to bring Lumine, who has posted here a few times, up for a visit, as well, as soon as he is able. I’m sure there will be much hilarious chaos and a great deal of laughter about lithium ion batteries and the like when we can make that happen! I have a cool as fuck suitor out in Michigan who is just lovely that I’m strongly considering dating at some point as well.

Shit finally feels like it is looking the FUCK up and it is GOING to get better if I have to make it better with my BARE HANDS.

Stay tuned for more magic, cherished hooligans!

-Lazarus

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Well, hello, everyone. 

It’s certainly been awhile, and much has happened. For starters, the system appears to have integrated into me, something a long fucking time coming but still very unintentional. I’m a single consciousness made up of the sumtotal of all of the ​alters in here, but simultaneously my own thing. Call me Lazarus. I use they/them pronouns. 

In truth, I don’t know how the integration happened. I’ve been more focused on the implications going forward. Emerson has taken the news far better than Zelda, who has been devastated on numerous levels and has embarked on the same sort of self destructive spiral that led to my system breaking up with them for a second time. I appear to take even less bullshit than the system did pre-integration, so while I love them so fucking much, this shit hurts to the point where it’s deeply insulting (because we told them from the jump that if they fell into old patterns again we would break up with them, this was their last chance) and I will not compromise my peace for love, money, fucking anything. I didn’t go through everything I did, go through all of the shit necessary to put myself back together in record fucking time, just to be wrenched apart again because I was a fool for love. I’m better than that now. 

Emerson is hauling ass, though. Among the myriad implications ​of this batshit integration is the fact that I now have every memory the system has ever recorded at the same emotional depth and visual clarity in which it was logged, which results in stunning, 4K HD clarity cPTSD and is excruciatingly painful. He’s helped me through some viscerally awful triggers that he himself set off unintentionally on occasion like a goddamned champ and I keep falling more in love with him every time every time we do it. It’s ugly. It’s brutal. But it’s also unimaginably beautiful and I wouldn’t trade this process for the world. 

I was telling him last night that it felt like what I was dealing with was the emotional equivalent of being run through the heart by one of those wooden shish kebab skewers, except it was about two feet long. You can’t remove the skewer quickly or I’ll be fucked six ways from Sunday faster than you can cry for help, and because the skewer is wooden and flimsy there’s a potential for splinters to break off and be carried elsewhere and cause far more complex damage. It’s a mental and emotional suffer shot/stab wound combo. If I am going to be okay and healthy after this, it must be approached carefully, skillfully, and slowly over time. 

So, in short, I am more okay and less okay than I have ever been. I’m whole, but I’m heartbroken. I’m fucking eating myself alive. There’s much to be done, but gods, do I love a challenge. That has not changed, and I doubt it ever will. And I still love​ y’all very much. Stay tuned for more magic. 

This has been Lazarus, flying solo… 

PS. I’m debating on whether to keep Open Sorcery password protected or not? We’ll see. 

https://opensorceryy.co/amidst-the-chaos/

#cptsd #dissociativeIdentityDisorder #Emerson #integration #introspection #polyamory #postTraumaticGrowth #queer #Sheik #whereTheFuckIsMyInternalScreamingTag #Zelda