Yesterday I had a bad headache/migraine, so, almost last minute, I decided that it would be worth my time and energy to go get a massage. I am so glad that I did. I’m usually a little nervous with masculinely presenting massage therapists, but this guy really had the knack and was super appropriate. We chatted a little bit during the massage – figuring out pressure and good spots and talking about the benefits of massage and relaxation in general. He really met my mood – I had been thinking of massage as part of the very old idea of laying on of hands as a healing technique, and he very much had the healer feel to him. He beat the living crap out of my muscles (just as hard as I like it and as I find effective – I often have a problem with massage therapists who can’t maintain a constant deep pressure) and it felt so good. The greatest part was that he managed to get my neck muscles (trapezius, I think?) to soften up. That is super rare – I think only one other person has managed that before. Andy today, they’re still softer and very relaxed, which is some sort of miracle.
So after therapy, I decided to head out to the meet up that one of the larger local polya groups does in the city. This wasn’t exactly unprompted though… Ember had asked me the day before whether I was going, and I had been undecided, basically dependent on how I felt after therapy. After therapy I did a quick check-in with myself to see if I was good to go out (yup, had the energy to socialize) and I headed out.
I got myself parked, then got myself lost trying to find the place – sometimes Google Maps does not really help when you’re on foot, despite how much you want it to. After I got there, I shed my coat, and joined a group of my friends who were near the door, just to say hi. Ember spotted me and came over to greet me with a hug and a kiss and a whiskey to have a sip of (good stuff, but I like peaty). I went over to the bar, the bartender flirted a little with me and I flirted right back, and got myself a single of the same.
I hung out with Ember for awhile, after checking out the rest of the event upstairs. I bumped into three other friends at the bottom of the stairs on my way up, said hello and did hugs, and flirted a little bit with the second gal (she’s cute and I like her). Upstairs wasn’t fitting my mood, so I went back downstairs to put down my stuff and socialize. It is a marvel watching people being flirty and friendly with other people when that’s their element. I mean, it’s fun watching people in their element, period.
I drifted back towards Ember after a bit and we went to go say hi to his partner Seafoam, and I had a super awkward moment with her as we were waiting to talk to her when I went to look at something off the table. So, not a great thing – not sure if I’m deal with a case of genuine bad stuff or whether my anxiety brain is blowing it way out of proportion. Stood and chatted there for awhile, then Ember and Seafoam left and I kept chatting with people.
Eventually I finished my drink and went and got a rye Manhattan at the bar – the bartender asked if I’d ever tried one with Rittenhouse. I wasn’t sure, so I said no. And he made me quite a good Manhattan. I sat down at the bar for a bit and started chatting with the guy who was a couple seats down, mostly just small talk, him asking about the group, but engaging enough that I stayed there for longer than I had intended. After that I went back over and spent most of the next hour chatting with the group of friends who were by the door.
About 15 minutes before they left, in comes someone I haven’t seen for years. And she was happy and that was super infectious. So I stayed there and chatted for most of the rest of the night, listening to her stories about the good things that have been happening in her family medical dramas. The guy at the car eventually came over to join the group and we all stood and chatted for awhile before I started coughing. Something was irritating my throat, so I went over to the bar to get some water. Then other people in the same area started coughing too. The cute bartender went outside to see what was going on and found out that someone had pepper-sprayed someone else a block or so over and it had come in through the vents. So we moved our group back further into the bar and sat there and chatted until closing time.
I forget sometimes how much I like flirting with people I’m comfortable with, and after a drink or two, people I find cute. I can be an incorrigible flirt when I’m relaxed and comfortable in my surroundings. I wish I’d figured this out earlier in life – some of my early 20s might not have been quite so awkward.
So… I think it’s time. I’m adding my new guy (and his peeps) to my polycule chart. I’ve been hesitating for a while because I don’t know what to call him (there are a number of appropriate ones that I’ve come up with) and because we’re trying to keep things pretty casual (we’ll see how well that works down the line…). I started seeing him about 13 weeks ago and we’ve been going on dates every couple weeks, pretty regularly. I’ve known him for several years now – the kind of knowing that involves conversations at mutual friends’ parties and larger scale play/sex parties and some sexual tension. The timing had never been quite right before, but now, now I’ve been open to different kinds of connections for a bit and that opened up that possibility. And wow… yeah. The chemistry is awesome.
What I’ve decided on for now namewise, and I reserve the right to change my mind, is Ember.
How do you choose to deal with the pain in your life? The sad things that happen, although maybe not unexpectedly, still happen not on a schedule? I prefer to address them in a couple of manners – the first time completely sober, so I know what I’m looking at. The second time, I’m not sure that (sobriety) matters as much – I think because some of the pain has been addressed before. The third time and on? I tend to address it on a case to case basis, giving it space to be something that just is, in whatever other mindset it exists in or alongside.
Or should I call it NaBloWriMo? That would be more accurate, really. But thus starts my third(?) year of blogging every day of November, as somehow today is November 1st.
So, it has become a complicated thing to explain why I have lost weight and why I eat the way I do. Not a lot of people can understand my ambivalence very well. The situation is odd enough, so I can understand why:
Yes, I lost somewhere between 15-20 pounds in the space of the last year.
It was due to finally getting on ADHD meds, which, at least the stimulant ones that work best for me, have an appetite suppressant effect.
No, I didn’t mean to lose the weight. It was not on purpose.
Not all weight loss is good weight loss, even for someone who wants to lose weight. This was not good weight loss for me, despite it being at a slow pace.
I had to spend a lot of money, that I didn’t have, to buy new clothes, new bras, new pants, because nothing fit anymore.
It was not good for me – I wanted to have some control over it, and I felt like my body was not anywhere near under my control.
So, in February of this year, prompted by Diplomat’s keto period, I decided that I would try going low carb to see if I could bring the weight loss to a halt. I’d tried a couple other strategies, to no avail.
And it has. I’ve maintained the same weight since about March, with a couple three or four pound fluctuations when I wasn’t watching things so closely.
This weight, this eating style, is maintainable for me. It actually works. Plus, I have actually managed to pick up a wardrobe in this size.
People compliment me and it is hard for me to say thanks. Mostly because I don’t like the idea that I am more worthy of admiration as a human being for having lost weight, for becoming skinnier, for becoming closer to the societal ideal. It’s super icky.
NaNoWriMo time again! And, as I often do, I’m going to use this month to encourage myself to write more. My goal is to write every day this month. Wish me luck!
For today’s writing, I think I want to touch on the importance of choosing and following your own path.
On my dad’s side I come from a long line of people who were trained as engineers – both of my grandparents, my aunt, and my father all are/were trained as engineers (my grandmother didn’t get to use it much, due to spending time raising her kids). So, suffice to say, both my sister and I got pressure to go in that direction as well. But, here’s the thing…neither of us did.
And I think we’re both the happier for that. We both chose fields that interested us, that excited us intellectually.
If I had followed my father’s path, at least career wise, I would have been miserable. Mathematics and design never excited me like they did him, his sister, and my grandparents.
I chose and continue to choose based on the idea that I want to maximize my happiness first, generally. I only have a limited time on this planet – why choose something that will make me less than happy? Granted, sometimes depression gets in the way of this, obscures my path and obscures even the meaning of happiness.
I choose relationships with multiple people because, a great majority of the time, it makes me happy. I choose to stay at my job, even though it doesn’t pay super well, because, overall, it makes me happy. I choose to medicate my seasonal depression and ADHD, so I can see through the obscuring veil that depression and distractions can place on happiness. I choose to work on my emotions, to learn how to process how I’m feeling because, I know that it gives me more opportunities for happiness.
If I had gone the path that my parents had, I wouldn’t have had the chance to explore my joy.