A Wee Bit Upset

Had Charon today.  I’m trying to do some Exposure Therapy stuff on my own with going to the Red Box Store that gives me flashbacks and shit and ended up being a bit late because I went to Red Box Store beforehand and missed the tram.

Something that’s bothering me about Charon right now is that she keeps saying I no longer meet the criteria for PTSD since doing Exposure Therapy with her and I strongly disagree.  I disagree because I’m having nightmares, flashbacks, hypervigilance, my quality of life has gone down considerably because I can’t seem to get this shit under control, and I’ve been having a real hard time fighting the urge to harm myself.  But fuck it, let’s say I don’t meet the criteria for the diagnosis.  Who cares?  I’m still struggling a lot.  It’s just frustrating because I feel like I can’t talk to her about anything because I think she’ll just say that stupid shit and just… Lord and Lady, it’s invalidating.

I think I’m going to have to talk to her about it next week when I see her.  Right now, I’m just extremely frustrated and upset about this.  She’s an awesome person, just feel like she can be a bit daft.

Thanks for listening to my venting.

-The Sarcastic Autist


On Therapeutic Shit

When I had therapy with Cybele the other day, she made me feel the most validated I have in a long while.  I told her about how I feel like the most masculine presenting person in one of my trans support groups where there’s mostly trans femme and trans women, whereas in the trans masc/trans men support group, I feel like the most femme presenting person.  Cybele said that seems to often be the issue with nonbinary folks, where they don’t really feel like they fit in anywhere and a lot of times, especially for those of us on the spectrum, we tend to just switch to one extreme or the other just to fit in.  She agreed when I told her that it’s really hard for me to accept being nonbinary when I think in binary a lot and that I’m trying to stop doing that and switch into a more fluid way of thinking.  She said that shit’s hard.

When I told her about the issues I’m having with Charon, she said I should maybe focus less on the label of PTSD/CPTSD or whatever and say to Charon “Hey, I’m having these symptoms, can you please help?”  Cybele says that I have a good relationship with Charon and I shouldn’t just ignore it when I’m having a problem.

Honestly, the person in my group the other day who had an issue with the term “Morbid Obesity” has really helped me realise that I need to tell people when I’m having a problem with something, because, otherwise, they won’t know.  Real life application of DBT skills, y’all. So, I need to tell Charon that I feel like she’s dismissing a lot of issues/symptoms I’m having right now and I need to tell one of my friends that they keep being transphobic, even if I know it’s out of ignorance and not maliciousness.  It’s really eye opening.

Also, I was supposed to have an appointment with Styx yesterday morning but she had to cancel because she was sick.  I was going to ask for sleep medication because my sleep has been 5-6 hours on the upper end of average, and that’s with waking up constantly through-out the night.  For the last month, I can count of one hand the amount of times i got 8 hours.  I started a dream journal, I’m not so good at filling it out, but the recurring themes are of my ex and of my family.  So the same shit I’ve been having issues with.

I’ve been fighting the urge to quit therapy, to be honest.  Charon asked why it was so hard for me to accept that she knows me, and I don’t really think she knows me.  If she did, she wouldn’t like me.  Which actually probably isn’t true.  I don’t like me.  Maybe I don’t think she knows me because she hasn’t reacted the way other people have in the past.  Another issue on that is that, I feel like, if she knew me, she would realise how much I’m struggling right now.

Because, I gotta level with you guys, I’ve been fighting some really bad urges.  If it wasn’t for the fact that I promised I wouldn’t, I feel like I would have cut myself or worse.  My value of being Authentic and Honest, is more important to me than action urges, you know?

Anyway, I figure I should really work on the flashbacks and nightmares/night terrors and hyper vigilance issues, so I’m going to do my own Exposure Therapy work for it, even if Charon isn’t willing to help me on it.  The big difference between this time and the last time I did Exposure Therapy stuff is that I feel actually ready.  Like I’m fucking sick and tired of living like this and I need it to stop.  I don’t like these assholes having control over me like this.  With the Thing, I was still avoiding stuff and struggling to accept that shit isn’t my fault, and I was so used to it that I’m not sure I was 100% willing to get over it.

This time, I feel like I’m the one that wants to work on it, not just doing it because other people tell me I need to.

So, that’s the news from me today.  Thank you for your time.

-The Sarcastic Autist


I made a total jack-ass of myself today.  First, I was telling this trans person that they should stick melons down their shirt to make it fit better.  Why the fuck I thought that was okay to tell someone I barely knew, I don’t know.  That was not okay.  For the record, I tell friends to try to stick random things in random places.  This was not a friend.  This was a person I met once before.  I was using a friend who is ‘morbidly obese’ as an example of someone I tell this to, and this other person got upset because I used morbidly obese.  I said I’d stop using that word with them because I don’t want to upset them for something as trivial as that.  It’s an actual medical condition, I’ve been morbidly obese, obese, and now just overweight.  It’s also not worth fighting with someone about.  Some people just don’t like those terms.

Mostly I’m mad at myself for telling a trans person to stick shit down their shirt.  The fuck is wrong with me.

However, I learned a few things about myself today so I know that I really need to work harder on shutting up.  I get verbal diarrhea when I find myself saying fucked up things.  I also realized that cutting myself is mostly a punishment thing.  No, I didn’t cut myself, I promised I wouldn’t so long as I’m in DBT.  I take my promises very seriously.  I feel gross and get a bad taste in my mouth and it is almost physically impossible for me to break a promise, unless I find a loophole.  There’s no loophole, I straight up promised “As long as I’m in DBT, for the duration of this contract, I will not self harm or engage in other risky or suicidal behaviour, and if I need to, I will contact Charon/the DBT coaching line for help”.

In other news, I’m having issues with Charon.  No fault of hers, I’m just having a hard time talking to her.  I’ve been (poorly) trying to explain to her that I think I still have PTSD symptoms at the very least, that it isn’t working backwards, I never actually addressed these issues and they are giving me a huge amount of issues.  I had a panic attack on Monday when I went to the Big Red Bullseye Store that I used to go to with my ex, Exacerbating Ex, the abusive one.  I felt like a rabbit with how fast my heart was beating and how quick my breath was.

I’m still having problems with nightmares and flashbacks.  Just not of the Thing.  Of my ex, of living with my aunt and uncle, of my da, of my mum, of my childhood in general, of the ex-best friend.  But not of the rape, so I’m good there.

I figured if going to Big Red Bullseye Store, that particular one, makes me panic and have flashbacks, I should keep going and do Exposure Therapy by myself.  I mean, I kept thinking any tall white woman with darker hair was her.  Her nose was bulbous and if it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t recognise her anyways.  It wasn’t a typical nose.  But honestly, I don’t think I’d recognise her unless she spoke anyway.  People tend to blur together and I can’t tell them apart very well unless they speak.

I see Cybele, my other therapist, tomorrow.  I’m going to talk to her about all this and get her advice.  Also, I see Styx, my psychiatrist, on Friday.  I was going to talk to her about medical marijuana, but that shit is expensive and I don’t want to pay that much.  I also don’t want to get high.  So I’m going to have to research other meds.  I’ve been thinking about CBD, because then I don’t get high, but I get the benefits, according to my research.  I don’t want to be high.  I actually enjoy sobriety.  Okay, I enjoy being in control, which means being sober.

And this all stuff that’s been happening the last week or so.  My sleep is shit and I sleep  less than 6 hours most nights, mostly around 4-5 total, with maybe an hour nap.  My FitBit keeps track of it.

I kinda feel like I’m getting to the point of skills breakdown.  If it wasn’t for the fact that I promised I wouldn’t, I would have cut today.  And I don’t like that.

As always, thank you for reading.  I hope you are all doing better than I am right now.

-The Sarcastic Autist

Stood Up For Myself, Kinda

I’m doing poorly, but not as poorly as I could be, so there’s that.  I was at Big Blue Box Store earlier and there was a guy from Internet Company X who was doing sales.  Which is fine, legit, but he got way too close to me.  He made me uncomfortable.  Then he called me ‘she’.  I said to him “oh, I’m not a girl”.  He looked at me and said that he was confused.  I nodded and said I had to go find my mum and finish shopping.  I just… It made me anxious and afraid and sad.  Anxious and afraid because dude was standing way too close and I was fighting flashbacks of various situations where people got that close and copped a feel or kissed me and also because I don’t normally correct strangers when they misgender me.  Sad because I know I sound and look like a girl.  I don’t like it.  That makes me sad.

I’ve also been fighting a migraine for 2 weeks.  Well, technically, it’s only a week and a half, but still.  I ended up leaving DBT early Wednesday because it got so bad.   I think it’s finally starting to go away.  I did end up missing my friend Luffy’s annual birthday bash and I feel bad.

There’s more I wanted to post, but I’m kinda tired and want to go to bed.  Thank you for listening.

-The Sarcastic Autist

Inaccessible Emotional Excess

I realize I haven’t posted in a bit.  I’ve had a lot going on.  My grandma went into the hospital last week and got transferred to transitional care this week.  I’ve been really bad about ‘making space’ for myself to let myself feel what I feel.  I started going to that trans masc support group Monday.  They meet twice a month.  I finally was able to go to Dungeons and Dragons.  I found a vegan tuna that I can eat and it is nasty.  I also bought a weighted blanket.  My sleep is still shit, but it’s less shit than it was.  I read a few good books.  I made friends (I think).

So, let’s start with my grandma.  She got really sick.  She’s in her 80’s.  She had gallstones and sludge in her gallbladder, her blood pressure and oxygen were on the fritz, her lungs had something wrong with them, and she had pancreatitis.  They did a procedure where they shoved a tube down her throat to get the gallstones and sludge out.  They didn’t want to do surgery to remove the gallbladder because of her age and ill health.  They don’t think she would wake up from that.  They loaded her with antibiotics and put her on a liquid diet for a bit.  She is feeling tons better and has been in the new facility since Monday.  I haven’t seen her yet and plan to tomorrow.

I went to the trans masc support group Monday.  I know this is an anonymous blog, but I promised that what is said in group stays in group.  I may mention a few things, just like I do with my DBT group, but for now, it’s a lot more personal than DBT.  It’s an actual support group.  Anything I blog about will be about my personal feelings and maybe what I shared, nothing about them.  I will say this: it was weird being one of the more feminine presenting people in the room, rather than the most masculine.  I was also one of the tallest.  It was nice being a room full of people who know what it’s like to not want a monthly crotch bleed and to make the chest melons as small as possible without knifing them off ourselves.  I look forward to the next meeting in 2 weeks.

I bought a weighted blanket.  This one.  I like it.  It’s like a hug without the people part.  I never need human physical contact again.  It’s great.  I highly recommend one.  Be careful, though, because my body gets sore if I use it too long.  Worth it for the nice grounding feeling though.

Okay, so for the big bit here, emotions.  I have not been letting myself feel emotions and I realized that I never do.  I like to bottle them up and save them for later, when I have time to deal with them.  Spoiler alert: I do not deal with them.  Ever.  I actively try to weasel my way out of feeling the feels.  Even when I think I am, I am not. Not really.  I’m pretty sure it’s because I have this willfulness and fear of actually feeling things.  Only anxiety really gets felt on a huge level.  I think that’s because anxiety was such a survival tactic growing up that I let it just stick around for far too long after its usefulness expired.

I have still been having nightmares.  I’ve been meaning to do the Nightmare Protocol, but I have not wanted to.  Also, I have forgotten to do it.  Mostly because I’ve not wanted to, though.

Okay, well, I’m gonna go have supper and watch something weird.  Thank you for your time.

-The Sarcastic Autist


The Bad and the Good

Sleep is a myth perpetuated by Big Pharma and the makers of Melatonin.

I had panic attacks yesterday.  Yes, plural.  So, shit is actually getting pretty bad and I should really talk to Charon about it.  Every night is nightmares/night terrors.  I wake up sweating and/or shaking half the time.  This is getting bad.  I haven’t been this bad in forever.  I can’t get in to see my psychiatrist until May.  Although, if I’m being honest, I kinda feel like I only want to go back on meds to avoid actually dealing with my emotions.

Charon gave me some self-validation skills worksheets and she wants me to do at least one over the course of the next week.  I don’t understand the worksheets.

In brighter news, I finally ordered a weighted blanket.  It’s 16 lbs and should be arriving by next Thursday.  I’ve made a new friend who is Trilingual and speaks English, French, and Japanese.  I’m going to dub them Book Buddy on here.  Because they also like books.

I’m tired and can’t concentrate well right now.  I’m sorry.

-The Sarcastic Autist

Muddying the Water

Something I thought about earlier: Why do I listen to my anxiety and depression if they’re such fucking liars?

I have no follow up on that line of thinking, just thought I would share.

Moving on.  I made an appointment with my psychiatrist, Styx, to talk about meds for my anxiety and depression.  I still have some meds from last  year, so I could technically just start taking them again, but I’m a bit wary of doing so.  Mostly because the withdrawals are horrid, but also because I am not a medical professional and, while I have no problem stopping medications by myself, starting them is another issue altogether.  Styx isn’t available until May.

I had book club today.  I had a bit of flashback issue to the rape.  However, I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m trying to figure out the stuff that I don’t want to figure out so my body/mind is going “hey, don’t you remember this other thing that is not-as-traumatising?  Let’s just do that stuff again.  That’s easier.” (Please note, I’m not comparing traumas in the gatekeeping sense.  For my own personal scoreboard of trauma stuff, the rape is not as high up as some of the other shit I’ve been through.  That’s not saying it wasn’t traumatising and I can’t complain about it, it’s just not as bothersome to me as this other stuff.)  Anyway, it was just my brain trying to pull one of my avoidance tactics.  I do the same thing when I’m piddling around pretending to do chores.

So, I’m just trying to figure out some stuff regarding that.  Mostly how I’m going to talk to Charon.  It might be easier on Monday than usual because I will have had a long day and won’t have as much energy to spend bullshitting.  I may shut down a bit, but more of a “I’m tired, can we just get this done” way rather than a “I don’t want to talk about this and we’re moving on” way.  Still, I’m going to have to come prepared for emotional exhaustion, but that happens most sessions anyway.

I don’t have much else to report.  I may end up getting my own place within the year and I’m not sure how I feel about that besides scared.

I need to go work on breathing because my asthma is acting up.

-The Sarcastic Autist

Daddy Issues™ Part Two: TW Edition

Trigger Warning: Childhood Abuse





It hasn’t quite been an hour yet.  I managed to write the two instances I remember down, even if it isn’t very detailed.  Before I type them up, I feel like I should give some background on some things.

When I was a kid, we lived in a three bedroom, on bathroom house.  My brother and I slept in the same bedroom and often the same bed as my parents.  This changed after I started my period when I was a 11, at which point I was not allowed to.  My brother was.  I was ‘banished’ to the floor until I finally cleaned up a bedroom upstairs for myself and set up a bed, which was a mattress on a frame with a blanket and a pillow.

When it came to the bathroom, there was 4 people who may need to use the bathroom.  The only access to my parents’ bedroom was through the bathroom, so we weren’t supposed to lock it.  Also, if someone needed to pee if someone else was showering, you just went in and did your business after announcing so.  Privacy didn’t exactly exist.

Okay, onto the flashbacks/memories/whatever the fuck they are.

In the first one, which I’ve ‘remembered’ for years, I am laying down in the bed.  I can feel the blankets and sheets bunched up beneath me.  I am both cold and hot.  I am cold because there is an air conditioner that runs 24/7 and 3 fans in the bedroom.  I am also hot because my dad is kneeling on top of me.  I can feel his whiskers on my face.  I am naked and scared and ashamed.  I end up floating my mind up and going into the closet where I always thought there was a magic portal to a different world.  I don’t remember anything beyond that.

In the second one, I am taking a bath/shower.  The water is up to my ankles.  I am sitting on the edge of the bathtub in a towel and my pink and purple training bra.  I hadn’t figured out how to take it off so I wore it for bathing.  My back is to the door and my dad is peeing and he finishes and flushes.  He comes up behind me and undoes my towel and reaches up under my bra and rolls my nipple under his thumb and fingers.  I feel the ceramic edge of the bathtub and feel the cold burn of shame before I float down the drain.

Another thing I remember is more of a physical sense of someone shoving a penis in my mouth, although I’m unsure if it’s related to my childhood since that’s actually happened a lot to me.

And that’s it.  I’ve been having a lot of nightmares relating to these things.  And a lot of flashbacks.  It feels real and it tastes real.  I think I mostly just don’t want it to be real.

I have an urge to cut because I feel dissociated and when I feel dissociated like this, I used to cut.  I just have to keep reminding myself that I’m okay.  I’d really like to ride this urge out and not do it.

Thank you for your time.

-The Sarcastic Autist

Sibling Dynamics

Okay, I had DBT group today, again the LGBT one, and again, I didn’t hate it.  I like the people.  I ran into the issue of getting anxious and wanting to leave.  My heart rate went from it’s normal 50-70 range to 130 at one point.  I spent the better half of group focusing on my breathing and calming down while trying not to convey that I was anxious as heck.

Something that I’ve been realizing lately is that my brother was not the great person I always thought he was.  My parents always favoured him over me, and I get why, I was not a well behaved child.  I always felt he was my best friend growing up.  Honestly, I think I just have a lot of cognitive dissonance with that.

I just finished reading some books where the main character is searching for his brother, whom he believed dead.  It turns out, his brother isn’t dead, but his brother ends up condoning the abuse their father shells out to the main character, saying it was for their benefit.  My brother has said similar, even going as far as saying it wasn’t that bad and that I was making stuff up.  Then, someone I know mentioned how their sibling sent them a birthday card and the birthday card had those life-event update stuff.  “Hi, how are you, my kid is graduating from school, other child is doing well.  We bought a house.”  That sort of thing.  And the person I know said that that sort of stuff was stuff you bring up to people who aren’t close to you.  It’s filler-relationship material, not family-relationship material, if that makes sense.  And I related so hard because that’s exactly what my brother does.

He will text me and ask how I’m doing and then go on about how his life is.  No real emotional aspect of it, just stuff.  He got a new job, look how cute nibling is, our father isn’t dead, he got into a car accident earlier.  I honestly hadn’t realized the different dynamic until the person I know talked about their relationship with their sibling.

And I realized that my brother and I didn’t have as close a relationship as I thought we did.  For the most part, I think he just used me as buffer.  Since I was always the one acting out and misbehaving, no one really paid attention to him unless he was doing something really bad.  I tried talking to him about the abuse and he said that it wasn’t as bad as I make it out to be.  When I tried to confront him about molesting me, he doubled down.  I’ve given up on trying to talk to him about that.  It leads to nowhere and I don’t think he had any mal-intent.  We were both fucked up kids in a fucked up scenario.  I don’t have nightmares about him and I think I’ve largely forgiven him for that.

So, yeah, lots of ‘fun’ revelations about my brother last few days.  Mostly that he wasn’t as great a person as I always thought he was.

As for my  Daddy Issues™, I’m super anxious and resistant to talking about the shit that’s been coming up for me lately.  Which means I should probably be talking about it.  I’m hesitant to blog about my memories since some people I know in real life know this is my blog.  Plus, I’m not even sure they’re memories.  they’re probably fucked up shit I’m making up because I’m fucked up.

However, my counterpoint to that is that this subject matter often puts the shame on the victim/survivor rather than the abuser, where it firmly belongs.  If it was someone else who was talking about this, I would not think them dirty or a little whore or someone who deserved it.  I don’t know why I’m so dead-set that everything is my fault still.  So, with it in mind that I’m not so much blogging about this for me as for others so that they know they are not alone, I am going to be posting about that in a bit.  I have to do a few things around the house like pee and shut my bedroom door and I’d like to have it be a seperate post.  I’d also like the opportunity to write it down long-hand before.  Typing words is easier for me, so writing it long-hand will help me process a bit deeper.

So, it’ll probably be the better part of an hour before I have it up, but I will post it tonight because if I don’t post it tonight, I’m not going to post it and I recognize that about myself.

Thank you.

-The Sarcastic Autist