Mother. Fucking. Drop. Bears.
Let’s recap: Drop Bears are these koala looking mother fuckers who live in Australia. They are vicious shits, big as a jaguar (the car or the animal, it depends on who you ask). They kill you by dropping out of trees onto you. They’ll eat your friggin face off. Legit, why does everything in Australia want to kill you? Why does Australia even exist?
At least Drop Bears don’t. They’re this thing Australians made up to fuck with tourists. Totally sounds like they could be a real thing, though, right? Because fucking Australia.
I use Drop Bears to understand the Check the Facts thing in DBT. We’re covering it right now. Emotion Regulation. Charon said that in her many years of teaching DBT, the Drop Bear analogy that I came up with is the best thing she’s ever heard of for Check the Facts.
When she told me that, it made me feel very proud and happy.
Anyway, Checking the Facts, for me, means checking for Drop Bears. Is this a thing that is really a thing, or is it a thing that I only think is a real thing, but isn’t. Drop Bear Check.
I was just really proud of that. I’ve been having a good week with making other people’s lives a bit better. I have a friend who got dumped 2 weeks before her wedding and she said she appreciates how I send her random wholesome memes and my other friend whose birthday party I’ve gone to a few times said he appreciates how helpful I’ve been to him. It’s been a good week for that. I feel very proud of myself for being able to help others. It makes me feel useful.
Also, I got hives and I don’t know what from. It’s on both thighs on the outside and on the inside of my right knee. I am itchy.
I got Reapers. The hottest known pepper. I’m so excited to be able to cook with them. I haven’t yet since I’m dead tired from group still. I’m going to make chili tomorrow and I’m going to make tamales and stuff on Friday using some left over chili for some filling. I like my pressure cooker.
I am ashamed that I’ve been having nightmares and flashbacks again of the Thing. Of the rape. I really don’t understand why it’s that particular instance that gets to me. It wasn’t the first time I’d been assaulted. It wasn’t the last time I was assaulted. I thought I’d been good enough done by now, you know?
I hadn’t been wanting to say anything to anyone because I feel like a failure for it. I mean, it’s not just the Thing either, it’s all of it. The more I’m untangling the total shitfest that was my upbringing, the more I’m realizing how much of the bullshit I’ve gone through has affected me.
I just went though some of my old blog posts. Amazing. I love seeing how I’ve evolved over the years.
Anyway, I’m gonna go ahead and say this is done for now, since I can’t seem to stay on task very well at the moment.
Thank you for your time.
-The Sarcastic Autist