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NaNoWriMo 10 – Massage

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.

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NaNoWriMo 1 – Weight

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.

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Enough?

I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts this afternoon as I was driving and they were talking about expanding sexual orientation in relation/response to non-monogamy.  The idea came up about not being queer enough to claim queer.  My first response is to call bullshit on this, but I know that I have internalized a lot of the “not enough” bullshit.

I do not feel “queer/bi enough” because I am currently a Kinsey 2.  I have a female partner who I have sex with, and might be interested in having sex with another female partner, but am otherwise not really interested in pursuing any other women.  In the past a great majority of my relationships have been with male or AMAB people.  Am I queer enough?

I sometimes do not feel “poly enough” because my saturation point is fairly low and in the past I have chosen to only have one partner when I was not mentally stable.  In that particular case I began doubting myself – not my identity, but myself, as being poly is rather central to being me – because I was not sure I would ever fall in love again.  Fortunately, that did not end up being the case.  But that still remains in the back corner of my head (more quiet than not these days).  I am not loud and proud about being poly, but don’t make much effort to keep it any bit of a secret.  Am I poly enough?

I sometimes do not feel “genderqueer/genderfluid/non-binary gendered enough” to claim that identity or to claim being transgender.  I tend to look lazy femme or just tomboyish in my presentation.  My dysphoria only flares up occasionally.  I do not have any issues with how my genitals look or work or the fact that I have visible breasts and other curves that may not be easily disguisable.  I strongly prefer they/them pronouns, but am willing to accept she/her in some contexts.  I am not out about this identity to anyone except friends.  Am I trans/NB enough?

I sometimes don’t feel “mentally ill or neurodivergent enough” to claim those.  My depression is cyclical and my anxiety is, in at least half of cases, controlled enough not to show.  Yes, I have sensory processing issues, but those tend to just come across as being a little weird to most people.  My ADHD is moderately well managed and also just tends to come across as a bit odd or flighty when not.  Am I mentally ill/neurodivergent enough?

I sometimes don’t feel “physically ill” or in pain enough to claim being a spoonie.  But the truth is – I have an autoimmune condition that I will have to take medication for for the rest of my life and does have an effect on my energy levels.  However, that’s under control and my migraines have mostly abated.  My joint pain is getting worse and I’m starting to think it might be something other than the barometric pressure shifts to that pain (the remaining migraines are definitely just that though).  My pain levels do affect my energy levels.  Yes, there are many people who have it worse.  It is hard to remember that my pain is also valid.  Am I physically ill enough to be a spoonie?

Am I enough of a partner for my partners?  The idea that I was defective because I was not the only partner a partner has, that they were looking for someone else because I am not enough never was an issue for me.  Instead it is a matter of other measures.  Am I available enough, physically or mentally?  Am I stable enough (physically and mentally) to be in a relationship with them?  Am I pretty enough to keep their attention?  Am I satisfying enough in bed for them to still want to sleep with me?  Can we build enough of a relationship to weather the years (can I contribute enough to the relationship to this building), if that is indeed something we want?

Am I enough?  To myself I can be, that I know.  And I am very glad that I am at a point in my life where this matters most.  It was not easy getting here and sometimes I slip back into old thoughts.