Vent Thread

StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
@Elly Catfox
Being able to share the details of what happened is a sign of healing and growth. I’m proud of you for opening up, it’s a brave and strong thing to do. Awful that you have to be brave and strong about something that never should have happened in the first place, but it did happen, so here we unfortunately are. I’m thankful you’re still here when you’re dealing with PTSD of that extent. Never give up 💜
Seeing as how you frequently deal with flashbacks, though, I don’t think sharing details of what happened when my ex-boyfriend raped me in 2008 would be a good idea. I’ve shared that with people before, and I have other things I’d rather talk about right now.
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
So, I’m feeling much-refreshed after my break.
Saturday was a mixed bag of a day. I lucked out that our order of five 30-pound boxes of cat food came, it was such a good lifting exercise >^-^< I went for a walk later, but was hard to enjoy because my pain and suicidal ideation same back pretty strongly. The irony, though, of finding a cat in the middle of the street and, when it wasn’t friendly enough to come up to me, I shoo’d it to the other side so cars wouldn’t have any chance of hitting it, was not lost on me.
I know I’m not alone in how I’ve been feeling, though. When my poet friend was here visiting, we decided to drive by his old house to see if any changes had been made (there weren’t many). As we were heading there, “Captain Albert Alexander” by Steam Powered Giraffe started playing. I didn’t think I would cry during our visit, but I couldn’t hold my emotions in anymore. The memories flooded back of when we were in the bedroom of that house, me doing homework, while he worked on jewelry. He’s the one who introduced me to Steam Powered Giraffe and The Cog is Dead. It still hurts that the early days of our relationship are so far behind me. When we would spend time together after college multiple days a week. I used to hope that we would move in together someday and I’d recapture that feeling, because our relationship switched to only seeing each other once a week for most of it once I dropped out of school.
It’s more than a breakup, I think. It’s a huge adjustment, to no longer be with the person who was so instrumental in helping me heal. In 2011, I would cry and hyperventilate every night from my PTSD and from how badly my relationships had all treated me. It was a struggle to get enough sleep. Then I met him, and could think about him as I tried to sleep, and I stopped crying and hyperventilating. I was calm and able to get to sleep much more easily. I would then go on to learn kindness and empathy from him. And you really don’t think you’re going to be broken up with someone when you’ve been with them for an entire decade. And that’s why healing and moving on has been so difficult. It’s more complicated than simply getting over a breakup.
He understood. He agreed it feels so weird to be single for the first time since 2011. We’re both struggling with it.
I know my best friend feels similarly to me, too. She went quiet for a while when I opened up to her about how I kinda feel like there’s a void that anti-depressants obviously can’t fill. I know what she did while she was quiet. Went and cuddled her fox plushies, as she always would when we discussed emotionally heavy stuff when we were together.
That’s the pain that I felt re-enter my heart while I was out walking, to say nothing of my other recent ex and how they treated me, when I tried so damn hard to forgive them every time they triggered me.
Still, is it odd that I feel like I’m lowkey doing the best out of all of us? I feel bad for my poet friend. He had an entire friend group he made when he moved to Arizona, only to have them turn out to be very bad friends to him. He’s able to go out and date, but everything fizzles out. My best friend, meanwhile, I think has lost so much of her passion for meeting people on IMVU. She’s a NEET who probably gets out less than I do. I think they’re both struggling to connect to people a lot right now. Meanwhile, I knew that building an army of friends was one of the best things I could do after my mental breakdown, and I succeeded in that goal more than I even thought I would. And this is why I don’t give up on people easily. I’m an important friend for them both to have :3
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
Sunday was a better day. I woke up feeling sore from my workouts, rather than sore from lack of muscle use, which felt much better. Mom asked me if I ever watch Japanese movies, I said yeah, I’ve seen all the Godzilla films. That was a small lie, out of being too lazy to specify. I hadn’t seen Godzilla Minus One. Mom then said she was about to watch Godzilla Minus One.
Review #1: Godzilla Minus One
Holy fucking shit, finally. Ya know, it really doesn’t help how lonely and isolated I feel, when everyone is talking about how amazing Godzilla Minus One is, and I have no one to go see it with and live too far away from any movie theaters to reasonably walk to one and back. That was not a fun thing to feel back when it was in theaters. I probably could have watched it if I wanted to watch a terrible-quality bootleg. I didn’t want to. Those are awful. So, what do I think now that it’s on Netflix? Was it worth the wait?
I have five favourite movies now. The Lion King, Jurassic Park, Donnie Darko, Pan’s Labyrinth, and Godzilla Minus One. This was finally the one that did it, that dethroned my beloved Godzilla vs Mechagodzilla (1974) as my favourite Godzilla film, though I need more time with it to decide if it also dethrones Godzilla (1954) as the best Godzilla film. Minus One is damn near perfect, and felt like the Godzilla film that is the most personal to me, and made me feel things. It reminded me a lot of Godzilla (1998), my least favourite Godzilla film, except you know, it’s actually good lol. My heart pumped as Godzilla was portrayed as the scary, wild beast that he truly can be. It dealt with themes of PTSD, survivor’s guilt, and suicidal ideation. It’s the first Godzilla film to make me feel so understood. It also had a rooftop scene that hit so close to home, reminding me of the nightmares I’ve had where I’m on a tall structure that has no railings or anything, as Godzilla shakes the building. I can see why its theatrical run here in the US got extended so much because people kept going to see it. It’s that good.
Review #2: Centaurworld
A colourful, beautiful hodge-podge of sheer creativity. It did take a while to get to stuff I related to on a deep level, but when it did, hoo boy… This series is absolutely fantastic.
Well, there was one thing I related to on a deep level as early as episode seven. They referenced “The Naming of Cats” specifically, rather than going for the obvious and worn-out “Memory” reference, which I highly appreciated. I’ve felt a deep connection to “The Naming of Cats” ever since I was in the shower, like, 5 or so years ago? And suddenly wondered if I had it memorized, and went through it in my head, and it turns out I did :3
So thanx. @Ciaran, for the recommendation. Though no, I don’t wish to externalize violence onto others around me. I wished for everyone to be on chemo for like a week. They would have flu-like fatigue, not be hurt, and then feel better again once they weren’t on chemo anymore. That’s both, well, me just venting by saying something I wouldn’t actually do even if I could, and not really the same thing as violence.
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
And now good times are upon me. I can feel it >^_^< I have an abundance of good food, no appointment till the 12th, and mom gave the two sickest kittens a double dose of medicine last night. They ate a ton of food this morning, and wore themselves out playing. Their bellies are poofy again, which is very very good :3
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
Someone came up to my door. They left almost as soon as they came, then a car that was outside my house drove away. There’s no flyer or business card or anything, unless it got put in the mailbox but I didn’t hear any mailbox noises. It’s currently 5:24am here, so probably too early for a bible thumper or anything like that.
Very odd. A little creepy. Likely they didn’t see that I’m in my living room - the house is dark and I’m laying on the couch trying to nap.
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
@FruityPWN
Think of it less as something you’d have to depend on and more as something that can help you for a while.
Also, never mind. Turns out there was a floppy bag of a package on the porch that was no doubt placed somewhere I couldn’t see. I hope the person had been the one who placed it, and wasn’t someone else thinking of taking it.
Edit: Checked my email, yeah it was a delivery. Guess Amazon delivers at the buttcrack of dawn sometimes lol
Elly Catfox
Birthday Fur - Joined within the first year of the site operation and has had significant amount of activity as of June 1, 2021.
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nya
@FruityPWN
It’s less about depending on medication. That’s not the problem, because the worst that can happen is you sometimes you run out and don’t have it and then you’re just like you are now again maybe. The problem is they might prescribe you medications that don’t work and that make things worse. I’ve had that happen a lot and been misdiagnosed so many times. I haven’t been able to get the medication I need, that actually works for me, in 2 years. But I used to be on stuff that worked great for me and I’m supposedly gonna get to go back on it in a couple weeks again which I’m super happy about.
Don’t worry about depending on it. Take what you can get. Just make sure you stand up for yourself and reject outright the stuff that doesn’t work for you, including doctors and therapists who don’t work for you. Don’t take it personally if you have one that says bullshit to you like, “all meds have side effects” every time you have something that does more harm than good to you or they don’t take you seriously. It’s not you, it’s them. We live in a white Kafkaesque cishet-dominated patriarchal capitalist dystopia. No pill is going to fix that, and plenty of doctors are opinionated on the wrong side of things. That’s not your fault! You just find a new doctor if that happens and politely tell the old doctor to take a hike on your way out. Be brave and you will claw your way to safety and recovery. 🖤 🩶 🧡 ♥️ 💚 🫂 🐾
Also something I think you should look up is how to heal, open, and otherwise work with your root chakra. Root chakra meditations, heavy-bass music, dance, Qigong, breathwork, and certain foods/ingredients can really help stabilize and strengthen a person and give one a sense of power when feeling otherwise powerless.
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
I had the whole medications making things worse problem back in 08 when I tried this whole therapy/psychiatry thing for the first time. I got so dissociative that I wasn’t fully processing the world around me, or what was happening to me. I can’t say I wouldn’t have been raped and abused by my ex had I not been on a bad med path - it wouldn’t surprise me if it still would have happened regardless, and I obviously can’t change the past to go back and see. But they definitely contributed to the problems I had back then.
I’m definitely at a frustrating point in my therapy journey. I called my therapist and she asked if I had gotten in touch with the LGBT center, even though she had said she would, last time we talked. I lied and said I tried a couple times and got no answer. She gave me a couple numbers to try that I hadn’t tried previously.
Great job, guys. I seek therapy and get passed along to not-therapy after a whopping three sessions. Because again, she implied like I would just go to the LGBT center rather than see her. I agree that going there would be good for me, and it’s one of my only options in terms of being around people irl. But I’m not seeking support groups, I’m seeking therapy. It should be both, not either or. At least, not this soon. Not after I only had three sessions.
I feel like I’m being denied help because I’m not homeless and not on drugs. And sure, there’s a lot about my life that’s good. My home is a safe place to live. I have food and Internet. But mental health problems still happen regardless of those kinds of things. I don’t think they care to understand me or help me much, because so many have it worse than I do.
But other people having problems doesn’t magically erase mine. That’s why telling people, “Others have it worse than you, you should be grateful!” is so reductive and unhelpful. It’s like if you broke your leg in three places, and sprained your wrist. You wouldn’t neglect your sprain just because your leg is worse, you would care for and heal both.
Good news is, yeah I’m still amazed at how much Sertraline is helping my PTSD. And I feel quite good generally. Nice and calm. The feelings I talked about in the above paragraphs are my side feelings to generally feeling well today >^_^<
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
Can’t wait for the 20th. Just two weeks to go, then I finally get to know the results of my brain MRI. That was, I think, the first appointment we went and did back in March. I didn’t tell y’all about it till now. I’ve cried a couple times, because the possibility that I could have brain cancer is scary. The cancer surrounds my right eye, which is, y’know, very close to my brain.
Thing is, though, I’m expecting it to be like most of the tests I’ve had done where there’s nothing. Gorlin Syndrome, my rare genetic disorder that causes me to have a ton of moles and caused my cancer in the first place, has other things it can cause. But they never come up. I’ve had moles removed and checked - nothing. Bones x-rayed for growths - nothing. Heart done an ultrasound on - nothing. So, I’d say the odds are good that my brain is fine. The fear just gets to you sometimes.
Now I’m remembering how that abusive ex of mine once went as far as to photoshop my moles out. Fuck him I hope he rots.
There’s now a kitten on my ribs and shoulder. I’m laying on my side. In order to come over here, he had to walk across my keyboard. I send accidental cat messages instead of deleting them, so enjoy Coal Jr’s words of wisdom:
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++3333333333333333333333333333333333333333
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
Well holy shit, today I find myself on the path towards making a new friend who has fibromyalgia. Dude I didn’t even expect to make a friend like myself when I vented about chronic fatigue. That’s just me being a Lucky Cat I suppose.
So, despite everything, I’m accomplishing my goals.
Build an army of friends: Already accomplished, but shall hopefully grow by 1.
Help people: She’s someone I can help :3
Focus on healing: That’s going well all things considered, I’d say.
Be a cat dad: Meow.
Go on the quests the wise old man sends me on: Will do lol :3
Anonymous #B10A
Some of you still carry the wounds of being mistreated by parents or partners. I hope you know that not everyone is annoyed with you, not everyone is upset with you, not everyone is rooting for you to fail. Grant yourself the same kindness that you give to others.
StrangeKittenOfTheFabulousKilljoys

Meow meow :3
My mind thinx back to the other abusive relationship I was in, in 2009. It’s not anywhere near as triggering to think about, because it was long-distance. He lived in Texas and we would talk over the phone.
If I went over everything that happened, I’d end up writing a novel here. No, what I think about in specific is how he was in regards to my friends. The time he called and got furious when I told him I was talking to friends, that lead into an hour+ argument that I lost, and subsequently wasn’t allowed to use MSN anymore. That was the equivalent to something like Discord or Telegram back then. I think about how, when I later admitted that I had still been using MSN, I read him my entire convo I had had with Zach. He told me Zach was the name of a guy his ex-girlfriend had cheated on him with, therefore he didn’t like the name Zach, therefore I shouldn’t talk to him anymore.
I think about how my ex blew up at me over having lied about MSN and how, when I told my friend Adam about it, Adam said it wasn’t very Christian of him to talk to me that way (ex was a pretty hardcore fundie). That, of course, only made my ex angrier, as I was now in the position where I had to read him my entire chat histories between me and my friends 🙄
I was in a situation back then that was comparable to my situation nowadays. Not on chemo, blissfully unaware of the cancer that was on my face, but not getting out of the house much and not having many ways of interacting with people socially. For a while, I did try not to talk to those two friends of mine to appease my ex, but only having him, my mother, and grandmother to talk to just wasn’t enough and I started going stir-crazy.
I left him in January of 2010.
Zach would later introduce me to Christine, who is currently my best friend. This year, he would be the one to start the autism server on Discord, where I’m currently connecting with fellow autistic people, a couple of whom have CFS/fibromyalgia and thus, understand the pain and severe fatigue I go through.
Adam is a friend I mentioned on here before, he’s the one who only really has Facebook as a way for me to keep in touch with him. Today, I told him my high opinion on Godzilla Minus One, and walked him through some Mothra lore.
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