The Return To Innocence

One cat who needs to lose at least six pounds, one cat who could probably stand to lose three or four, one cat who needs to gain three or four. Since we're still free feeding, we've decided to severely limit the amount of kibble in the bowls. I'm so used to making sure both the downstairs bowl and the upstairs bowl had enough food every day certainly hasn't helped Jupiter. Now it's time to make him slim down. Luna is a little pudgy, too. Calliope is still scampering and burning elder kitten energy, but I realize that she will eat when she wants to eat and she will be fine. I just need to tamp down my anxiety and OCD issues and prepare to listen to mewing cries of "We're hungry!" at night.

Calliope, at 8.3 pounds, has some Egyptian Mau and Abyssinian in her brown striped tabby genetics, and perhaps all she needs is no more that three or four extra pounds. But we've learned that Jupiter is around 24 pounds, which is quite overweight even for a large male ginger tabby with largeness in his genes. Luna could certainly stand to drop from 15 to 13 pounds, I think - she's small enough. I don't feel guilty, just slightly irritated that I kept wanting to keep them fed. Also, Jupiter keeps eating Calliope's food, which seems much more interesting. It's Adult Cat food, since she is at least a year old, but it must have good flavors. So I'm limiting that bowl as well. Calliope has some mild disinterest in the Wysong, Blue, and Nutrisca foods, but she does eat them. I just have to remember to pour as little as possible.

Slightly unrelated:
Calliope has been sleeping pressed up against me, and starts by snuggling in the crook of my arm, her whole body touching the length of my torso, allowing her to nurse quietly against my shirt while nuzzling my neck. Her purring is soothing and very kitten-like: steady and soft and loud and comforting. When she is finished, she will wander the bed until she finds a spot against my ankles or between Adam and me. Jupiter has slept on the bed very close to her, which is very good. Luna, who has a circular bed between our pillows, is still snarling at and smacking Calliope. Females and territory. But Calliope is finding her spots and spaces, and I am definitely her person, and she is definitely my shaman comfort cat. Not like Rose. Her own medicine. Yes.

Quote from a friend that applies to me in a scary way:

"If you really feel like picking a fight with me, you will have to wait until tomorrow afternoon. I'll need at least two good meals, some meditation, a comedy film, a squeezable exercise toy in one hand, and a muscle relaxant drug that will help me type properly without muscle pains and tensions.
This is why I like arguing online: We each get our points across without interrupting shouts, we can research and cite our sources properly, we can explain exactly why the other person's argument is fallible, we can defend our own position logically and rationally, we can actually get words in edgewise without stammering and snarling from both sides, and we can save our vocal chords from getting sore.
I hate debating in person. My opponent loves to tell me exactly what is wrong with me in ways that don't even make sense, and he or she refuses to let me explain why that argument has no basis in reality.
Let's say, for example, that he or she decides to pick on the fact that I have a terrible memory in general but I can easily quote my favorite books and movies. Do you know why I can easily quote my favorite books and movies? Because they are my favorite books and movies. It has absolutely nothing to do with having a poor memory overall. It just means that I've read certain books and watched certain films often enough to at least paraphrase, if not fully recite, entire lines of dialogue. See, people with brain issues such as autism spectrum disorders are able to do things like that. Having a disintegrating memory while being able to recall very specific things does not mean that I am pretending to have a selective memory, and frankly I feel insulted when it is implied and inferred.
I am chronologically young and neurologically aging. I also have many friends going through the exact same process. I talk about my experiences often, so people like me can know that they are not alone.
If you want to fight me about that, if you want to accuse me of deliberately living inside my brain disorders, please come inside my brain disorders. They're all connected, so it's like a fantastic patchwork house. My brain has a very comfortable couch. Would you like some tea? I just got some red tea. I have decorated it with my disorders proudly. They are part of me, after all. They are part of who I am. Aren't they beautiful? Like shiny, sparkly, broken puzzles. I may never find the missing pieces. That's fine, though.
Did you know that in Japan, when a ceramic sculpture is broken, they weave gold through the piece when putting it back together? Kintsugi: the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. The idea behind it is that the piece becomes more beautiful and valuable because it has been broken and has a history. I am full of gold-filled cracks. I am very proud of that. I am proud of my disabled and handicapped history. My life is made of gold!
Oh, please don't look upset! No, no, please, sit comfortably. I hope the tea is to your liking. Yes, even that mug has gold fillings, Even the couch is sewn with gold. This entire place is filled in with gold. And it is lovely.
Wait! Did you mean that I use my disabilities like crutches to make excuses for being in pain? That's ridiculous. I mean, I certainly don't mind magical thinking, but you can't make something that extreme happen just by imagining it. I'm not imagining it. I'm living in the right now. And, like many disabled people, my right now means having a body and a brain that feel more injured and aged than normal. I talk about this so that others like me understand, so they have answers to questions they are too worried to ask. Sometimes when you approach age thirty it can feel like age sixty, for some of us. That is why I am an activist for certain disabilities and an advocate for certain health treatments.
Oh! Oh, my! Is that also why you're angry at me? Do you believe that I use my medical problems as an excuse to do nothing while I am young? That is the silliest and most untrue thing anyone has ever assumed. Perhaps you should talk to some of my disabled activist friends. They will tell you the same thing. Life is hard for everybody. But it is sometimes a little bit harder for disabled people. We're not special snowflakes. Although snow and cold do sometimes make us hurt more!
Have some more tea. It's very calming. We need to be calm for this fight.
Just let me know when you are ready to fight. I need to do some meditative qi gong exercises to prepare. Just please keep in mind that I would rather we each complete a piece of debate without yelling over each other. It is much more difficult to weave healing gold threads through words."
-Written By A Disabled Gentleman Who Shall Remain Anonymous, And Who Reflects My Exact Thoughts, Feelings, and Personal Beliefs With Incredibly Frightening Accuracy To The Point Where I Could Have Written Most Of This In Various Bits. Not Kidding, I Think This Guy Shares My Writerbrain.

Anyway, speaking of the art of using gold to heal broken things!
http://www.pinterest.com/uberECOcool/kintsugi-saving-broken-ceramics-with-gold/

This is one of the most wonderful articles ever.
http://disruptingdinnerparties.com/2013/09/26/modeling-consent/
"Rape culture tells me that men always want to just “get the sex”, so naturally, I was shocked that he chose to risk “getting the sex” by verbally checking in. “Checking in” is a part of consent culture that is very easy to dismiss. It’s easy to tell yourself, “Oh, I already asked about that. They said they were ok” despite picking up on body language or other signs that would tell otherwise."
-Stuff I Did Not Know About
And:
"Consent culture doesn’t have to be limited to sexually charged situations. Pretty much any situation where you are interacting with people is an opportunity to check whether the other person is OK with what you are doing. Eg: “Would you like to walk there together or did you want some alone time?” “I’d like to talk about this with you. Is now a good time?” “This conversation is getting pretty intense. Are you OK with continuing on this topic or would you rather talk about something else?” I think it’s really useful to do this kind of negotiation in any kind of interaction, sexual or otherwise so that everyone feels like it’s OK to express their boundaries. Partly because it makes those interactions more safe and enjoyable for everyone in themselves and also because it feels more natural to continue in that way if things do become sexual later."
-Stuff I Want Happening Right Now (so that people can ask me if I want to be left alone when I want to be left alone)
And:
"I appreciate consent to the point that I often take a “protector” role at parties as I maintain more of my sensibilities while inebriated than many of the people I know. That being said, if two people can read each other without words, there is NOTHING wrong with exchanging a kiss without asking for it. If one person can’t read the other accurately, there is an issue with either the kisser’s perception, the kissee’s sending of signals, or some combination of the two. There shouldn’t have to be a textbook for organic, natural encounters. While everyone is entitled to their private space and shouldn’t be taken advantage of, if someone is wearing an alluring outfit at a dance club that advertises how sexy it’s customers are, that probably isn’t the kind of place to not have an awkward lean-in after some dancing (which is often close and arousing anyway). Signals are just as important as perception, and basic, decent, human respect is the most important thing of all, with communication, verbal and otherwise, at a very close second."
-Stuff I Hope Everybody Understands Fully And Respectfully (meaning that if you cannot read a signal, inquire before moving forward)

And I feel horrified that I did not realize there was an actual consent culture, because rape culture has been so prevalent...

You know how people who work out a lot always say things like, "Wow, that workout class of my choice was intense! I'm going to be so sore tomorrow I don't think I'll be able to sit down!" and then they go do it all over again and again and they keep talking about their horrifically sore stiff painful muscles and how it's going to help them get in great shape no matter how much it hurts?
Yesterday afternoon, I walked two miles between picking up my prescription, getting lunch, and strolling around the neighborhood. This morning I woke up in excruciating gruesome pain, and now my entire lower body doesn't want to move. My legs, hips, and knees have decided that unless I have my cane on me, I cannot walk.
Where is my special prize? I though we got prizes for sore muscles.
Please, fully healthy able-bodied person who works out every day and treats post-exercise soreness like a badge of honor, tell me why I should feel sympathy for you.

See, this is why I sometimes feel slightly triggered if a friend talks about how painful and excruciating their extreme exercise regimen makes them feel, especially if it's like bragging. You know. P90X or Yuppie Boot Camp or CrossFit or Zumba or Power Yoga or Dance Yoga or AcroYoga or anything combining yoga with anything or anything combing dancing with anything. You're relatively healthy, you exercise like crazy until oh dear, you are in so much pain you can't walk, ha ha, and you keep doing it and sometimes you laugh and attempt to compare yourself to a disabled person until your workout pain fades and you do all that healthy working out again.

(Also, I will never stop saying how sick and tired I am of hearing about Snobby Yuppie Yoga Workout classes. I get it, you stretch and expand your mind and you exercise at the same time; good for you; now put your mind back in your brain. Stop telling me how yoga can help me and why. Stop. Just... stop it. My mother (who casually teaches old ladies kripalu style disabled yoga) does that for me over the phone very well because we're the Gilmore Girls with more bickering and we do that kind of thing.)

The point is: Having physical disabilities and chronic illnesses means living with certain limitations unique to each individual, no matter what. People in wheelchairs do exercise and yoga, people with breathing problems take dance classes, people with semi-paralysis take martial arts, etc etc... and everyone finds a way to raise their own limits while compromising and compensating to fit the workout to them instead of fitting themselves to the workout. Unfortunately, not all of us are able to do this in a class setting or even a group setting for whatever reason.

So. When I say that my body is in horrible horrible pain from extremely simple, quick, easy working out after you say the same about extremely intense, slow, difficult working out, a tiny part of me runs off and cries.
The story:
When I was very little, I took gymnastics to try and help with the cerebral palsy. I lasted one year. I excelled at parallel bars and rings and anything that put me in the air. But I could not do floor exercises or balance beams. When I was a teenager, I took tai chi. The master was sixty and looked thirty. I was the youngest student. I kept making the mistake of following the master and not accepting my body's limitations. The master forgot that I was disabled. In the end, I wound up handling a few injuries that led to permanent sciatica and the master was so horrified that he offered to help me recover and to pay for doctor sessions. When I was in college, I took a few simple, mild exercise courses, and after every single one, while the other students were high-fiving and laughing and feeling energetic, I was curled up trying to hide my tears of agony. The first few times I tried even basic yoga, my entire body rebelled and screamed negative things until I meditated and listened and learned what was better for me, which led me and my mother to develop a highly modified version that was almost not yoga.

The point:
I have limitations with my disabilities. Do not tell me that I have none. Do not tell me that the only limitations are in my mind. Especially do not (ever) tell me that the only disability is a bad attitude. Back off and let me do what I do and make gentle suggestions here and there. Offer to help me stretch a little more and steady my arms while I lift a heavy thing. Help me stretch and flex my legs when I do my physical therapy. Do not whine to my face about how sore you are after your dance yoga power ballet spinning acrobatics martial arts class done in a well-lit air conditioned crowded room blasting out hip pop music. You chose that. You wanted it. You had the ability. Any pain you endure will fade and you will continue your workout readily because your pain means strength. You may even try to compare your temporary workout pain to a disabled person's chronic pain - good luck with that.

I dream about dancing. I dream about being a gymnast. I dream about mastering tai chi and qi gong. I do my best every day to make small, gentle, careful moves that point in all those directions. I don't push my limits. I raise my limits so that I have farther and deeper to go before I reach those limits. And it is going to take a long time. I have to be extraordinarily careful so I don't trigger various symptoms. I only look healthy.

So go on. Go do your Power Dance Acro Cycle Pilates Trampoline Athetic Yoga Karate Class. Rip up your muscles so they can knit together and become stronger. Be strong. Be intense. Be powerful. Be proud. Fuck it, be arrogant and condescending. You deserve it for all that hard work.
Just don't tell me that I can do all these things you do with ease and don't tell me I have no limits and don't tell me that I'm just challenged or differently abled. Do not insult me. Just talk to me. Then, if I ask, work gently with me.

http://www.upworthy.com/best-explanation-of-religion-i-have-ever-heard-and-im-practically-an-atheist

Dear every religious person: Listen to this. This guy is a bishop, and he's better at explaining organized religion as separate from the godhead than almost anyone I have ever heard. Dear every nonreligious person: You will be nodding vigorously and appreciating people like this man so much you'll wish every religious person was like him.

This is why I'm pagan. This is why I have no religion. The godhead - a single god, many gods, a source of energy, the higher self, nature, the universe, however you want to identify with it - has nothing to do with praise, fear, love, hate, organization, community, or what each person does in life. It just exists. It hangs around in its own dimension, formless, genderless, minding its own business, occasionally feeding off the soma of belief from living beings who find it pretty and comforting. It lets those beings shape it into whatever form they can recognize most. And since it is so pretty and comforting, people look to it and embrace it. If it makes them feel good, hooray! But to invent controlling concepts like Heaven and Hell just to scare people into running like children to your arms - born again, as it were, as this man says - is not a good way to explain your belief systems.
I'll say it again, but I believe Neil Gaiman did it best with "American Gods" - the idea that all gods are a sort of Mobius strip, circling back to creating themselves out of the minds of humans until they become real incarnations and sustain themselves on human worship... Except I like to think they originate in dimensions both outside our worlds and within our minds. Not quite panentheism... more like the universe being our own selves.
See? I'm so eclectic I don't want anyone else to "convert" to my belief system. I don't even know how to explain it. This is what happens when I'm raised by an atheist and agnostic both with very open minds.

So many books, so many books.

So, True Blood. I've watched all the new episodes. The books don't matter anymore. The HBO show is absolutely going in eighty new directions. Although Niall is more awesome than in the books. Rutger Hauer is fucking awesome. I do wonder if they will bring in Mr. Cataliades and Diantha, then we can have friendly demons! If they could just get Christopher Walken... especially as a good guy. Maybe a faery. I like Ben no matter who he might be. I'm tired of vampires. Especially Bill/Lilith/WhoeverTheFuck, and even Eric. Infallibility and shock with a vampire is sad and wangsty. Pam and Tara are awesome. Jessica is awesome. Sam and Lafayette are awesome. Jason and Sookie are surprisingly awesome. LOL, Andy, you are adorable. So many twists and turns. Having read all the books, I have decided that I am completely and utterly fine with all the changes. As long as Charlaine Harris is entertained and paid, I'm sure she is utterly fine, too. Hell, her favorites are Lafayette and Jessica - and she killed Lafayette and never invented Jessica to begin with. If I become a famous author whose books become a TV series, I might take lessons from Harris. Just sit back and enjoy. At least in the final book, Sookie wizened up and stopped being stupid, and Sam became awesomer and sexier than ever, and the two of them confirmed all my speculations. These are not actually spoilers. Or if they are I don't care.

Aww, I remember writing this last year and people being very amused.
***
Bright eyed, bushy haired, bright colors, babbling due to painkillers and happy muscle relaxants and healing gemstones and all that weird pseudoscience silliness that I believe in despite my atheist agnostic upbringing.
I've been pagan since I was a teenager, so hah. Polyagnostic polytheist pantheist eclectic witch who will believe even if proven completely wrong. Even when my parents insists that it's just my brain and that psychic powers don't exist, I will agree because that is true, too. There are so many truths out there. I love quantum everything.
See, I follow the Discworld concept: Even if a deity manifests in front of be and insists it is a great god, I will tell it "That's nice. Just because you exist doesn't mean I believe in you. I believe in my Higher Brain smushed with my Subconscious, which you possibly came from. But since you are here, let's party anyway. Red wine?"
I firmly believe that Man created God, and the Universe created both Man and God, and all gods everywhere sprang fully formed from Man's brain because Man's brain is more complex and extreme than we can ever conceive. The universe is bigger than everything.
And I have also always believed in All The Gods, so whenever someone asks me if I believe in God, I always ask "Which one?" which leads to confusion and people thinking I'm, like, evil or something and must be saved or whatever that means. *shrug* I don't care. I like what I like and I don't want to push it on anyone because my faith is mine and your faith is yours.
I just ask that you please please do not attempt to convert me to Christianity because nope nope nope. I am half Jewish, I know that Christianity is a Jewish heresay, I know Yeshua was just a man who explored various believes including paganism and then returned to talk about it, and that he wasn't part god, he was just a very good orator. So, no. I am who I am and if you leave me alone I will not roll my eyes and facepalm at you. I love you all, I always will... but I can love everyone without being bothered by proselytizing. Love is love is love is love. There is no wrong or right, there is only love.
***

Especially for naamah_darling

Here is a post for questions about my Healthy Multiplicity, and the three (now potentially four) female people/entities who inhabit my brain and help me cope with all my various vast disabilities and illnesses.
This is also a post for others to discuss their own.

-Serena: The first known guide, who guides me through all and every pain, tension, emotion, and fear, who is my inner nurse.
-Alicia: The second known guide, who guides me through epilepsy and postictal states, who is my inner mage.
-Amara: The mysterious third guide with me from birth, only recently human, who guides me through overall brain damages, memory problems, cracks in the walls, neuronal crumbling.
-Amber: the previously silent, hidden fourth guide who acts as a preserver of my sanity, who seems to catch me when I fall so deeply I fear entrapment, who deflects darker energies and turns negative into positive.

Disclaimer: This is not a case of DID, which is a very, very specific disorder. My girls do not leave my mind to use my body and voice, although there have been very rare postictal states in which Serena has spoken through me when I was fully incapacitated; however, I was still myself, just unable to articulate until she lent her voice.
Healthy Multiplicity is extremely common in perfectly healthy people. It is often seen as a form of coping mechanism for many disabled people, who need to sometimes retreat into their creative minds to preserve themselves, to soothe their mental conditions, to know that they are able and capable and strong. Because sometimes, being reassured by loved ones falls hollow, and you know your own mind well enough, and your own mind knows you well enough.

Well, after a good pep-talk with both my mother and my therapist, I've realized that my body issues are mostly due to extreme stress. Like, stress so intense and undermining that I can't feel it, but my body is reacting wildly. Literally, my nerves are so close to the surface that they react to everything - and right now they're reacting to the stresses of moving everything around the house to prepare for the contractors coming in and re-carpeting the living room and re-flooring and re-cabineting the kitchen. I'll be altering my diet a little, trying to de-stress, taking Klonopin and Passionflower every day, keeping Klonopin and Passionflower on hand, and reminding myself as much as possible to relax.
Current symptoms include digestive stress, literal nervous loss of appetite even with hunger, TMJ, exacerbated seasonal allergy symptoms, extreme fatigue and malaise, and fibromyalgia flares that make me want to curl up under heavy blankets and cry.
These can all be mitigated and relieved as much as possible with de-stressing treatments and cutting out certain foods for a while. I just need to remember that.

I also must not let myself get stressed online: Reading inflammatory Facebook posts, over-reacting whenever anyone tells me, "Yeah, that food sounds great, but beware the sugar content. Your pancreas can't handle much." - In fact, I want to write a horror story called "Beware The Sugar" after being given so much irrelevant, unwanted, unsolicited dietary advice that I already know about. I often have to bite back snarky replies like, "Did I say I had high blood sugar? Did I say I was diabetic? Did I say I eat this stuff every day? Do you think I am an idiotic child? Yes, I am aware of the sugar. Look, it says right there. On the label. Sugar content! Yes! I am fucking aware of fucking sugar in my fucking food!" or not engaging in emotionally charged political debates about why I like having a gun along with my swords and daggers and my social liberal ideals and waaah all guns are evil shut the fuck up.
I keep forgetting that my online social circle can have a massive crazy effect on my brain.
The paradox in there is that I NEED that online social circle to stay relaxed and de-stressed. Landmines, eggshells. Hairpulling?

So. for the next few days: Cut back on dairy - substitute coconut milk and almond milk and hazelnut milk and sunflower milk. Cut back entirely on refined sugar and sugary treats. Eat more oatmeal with bananas. Eat more apples and grapes. No acidic fruits. More vegetables. More fish, red meat. Take medications in a timely matter. Meditate.

And, I think, the number one change that must be permanently implemented: Set my alarm clock earlier. Force myself to wake up at 9:00 instead of 11:00. Allow my digestion to really wake up. No matter how foggy and fatigued, fight it. Go outside and soak up sunlight directly, no sunscreen, for twenty minutes. Then apply botanical oils like sea buckthorn to soothe any possible burn. I have learned that I am one of those people who physically, bioactively need direct sunlight for a certain amount of time, and that the best way for me to "screen out" the UV rays is very specific plant extracts. Which work fine for me.
And while that's out there, I've been stumbling across articles saying that "The sun does not cause skin cancer! It is out body's way of fighting inflammations and oxidants! You don't need sunscreen!" And see, this sort of thinking has been happening since the '50s and '60s - healing the body with the mind, nothing new, just upgrading the technology to keep up with the science. Good for them, as long as they don't go insane.

Now, I am one of the biggest fans of craniosacral therapy for myself - it is the one and only therapy that has truly done something incredible for me. I just need to find really good craniosacral therapy doctors in the area.