splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
The forbidden triad is one where there is a connection between A and B, there is a connection between A and C, but there is no connection between B and C.

There's a neat little explanation here.

I don't know why it's called a "forbidden" triad though.

I think some people are far more comfortable with forbidden triads than others, introverts in particular. And contrary to the experience of that writer, I can feel quite stressed by the ending of a forbidden triad. It can bring on a sense of social claustrophobia, a sense of loss of freedom. When I feel in control of my life, I don't have many forbidden triads, they are more a feature of uncertainty and troubled relationships.


People who are comfortable with a more compartmentalised life, for whatever reason.
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
And curiously, in contrast to last night, today I'm grunging round the house and loving it.

~~~

Am working on a portrait in watercolour, the poor girl has come out 50 years older and crosseyed. Oh well, it's a learning process. I stymie myself by always pushing for realism because I want to prove I have control over my tools rather than some lovely interpretation that may have happened by accident. But given interpretation is also key to creativity, I need to loosen up a little.

~~~

I seem to have created a new sitting spot for myself which moves the focus of the room away from the couch and the telly to the big window, the record/CD collection and stereo. The window ledge is littered with interesting rocks (mostly thanks to Dad) and my fiction collection and art/craft books are right behind me. It feels nice, but the space in front of me - the shelves that contain the stereo - also contains a lot of random, ill sorted things that will get properly attended to soon.

~~~

Later:

I peaked a few hours ago and now seem to have hayfever. I'll wager that I'll be down with a sinus infection by Tuesday. I'm still doing things, but at a slower pace. And my activities are getting increasingly random.

In fact, I rather think that I hit the wall yesterday, it's just taking my body this long to stop moving.
splodgenoodles: (The delinquent daisy)
Or do other people also find themselves layering the open tabs on their browser so they sit neatly, one behind the other?

Grief.

Oct. 6th, 2013 03:03 pm
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
I was just reflecting on how we grieve, and what many of us have lost in our social networks.

1. Years ago, a psychologist told me about another client of hers who was coming in weekly for help because she was going through the terrible grief of losing a child. She was from the Horn of Africa, and was flailing, struggling a lot. She told the psychologist that back home, for a loss like this, the whole community would help, and help for a long time. There would be an initial period of intense support, followed by a year or thereabouts during which people would visit every few days. It was not something that would need to be asked for. It was just accepted that loved ones would visit, maybe bring food, and just hang out. Because it was part of the mourning process. Everyone participated.

2. Also years ago: a psychiatrist told me about the mourning process in parts of the Jewish community. In the immediate aftermath, for a few days, the grieving person is not expected to wash or do anything for guests. People visit and bring food. And just hang out. The grieving person is expected to be present in the house, but is not expected to say or do anything. They can nod at any given person to bring them close should they want to, and that person would discreetly approach for whatever conversation (or lack of conversation) that the grieving person wants. Only slowly, in the following weeks and months, is the grieving person expected to start participating actively in the community again.

I think one of the critical things is that the support can be taken for granted. In both of these examples, the grieving person does not have to identify a lack and ask for help.

They also don't have to be doing anything in particular to manage their grief. Other people manage it for them by providing the space(through the expectation that they will not participate in normal life) and support (people around but without expectation of effort on the part of the bereaved). It's not about therapy as such, it's a flexible arrangement for the grieving person that acknowledges the importance of their loss.

And it's important that managing the loss is not something that a person has to work out as they go. The default option is one that gives them time, structure and acknowledgement of the experience of loss.
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
I'm in a benign state at the moment, enough good that I can feel largesse, and enough awareness that it seems worth considering.

Yes, I can forgive.

The curious thing though, is that forgiveness is about me and how I feel.

After all, I might forgive but what does it mean if the person being forgiven really doesn't care?

I might forgive, but that doesn't mean I'm going to feel safe and okay around that person. I am still afraid and aware of my own personal safety.

So in practical terms, for people who aren't me, there will be no difference in practice.

Accepting that that's how a person is does not mean anything more than that. The metaphor of a crocodile is the best way to explain it: you accept that it's a crocodile, you might even love a crocodile for being what it is, but you take all due precaution. It is, after all, a freaking crocodile.

It's a purely internal, personal way of moving forward. In the case of betrayal it's about acknowledging that the person is not who or what you thought they were, and accepting that.

For them, since they think their actions were okay, it means nothing.
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
Big Sister once told me about human nature.

She was trekking somewhere in South East Asia with a few other backpackers and a local guide.

They were in a place of tall grass, with a solitary tree nearby.

There was a rustling in the grass, and someone asked "what's that?".

The guide said "might be tiger".

And everyone headed for the tree.

There were no heroics, there was no bravery and no altruism. They pushed and shoved each other to get up that tree to safety.

~~~

Her conclusion was that in such a situation, people will fight for their own lives but that is not our 'true' nature. What we do is try and ensure we are not in such situations. We create circumstances that avoid this. We mostly choose circumstances that bring out other qualities, which are just as real.
splodgenoodles: (By Vassilissa)
God only knows.

There's the sheer desire of proximity. Of opening up and excercising a part of me that is otherwise left constrained and festering in the dark.

There's the tangible proof of my oft-claimed right to be wanted.

Although I don't know if it's a right, or a happy luxury. Icing on the cake.

~~~

My own desire doesn't always please me. Nor does my wish for tangible proof of its importance. Life would be simpler without those feelings.

~~~

But we don't get much of a shot at these things. Soon enough, we're all finished and gone. Our elements keep going, but they are dispersed. That's who we are: a brief mix of chemicals. Once that mix dissolves, so does desire.

That's why it matters that we make the most of ourselves and each other.
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
A curious thing about leadership. In cycling, the team's job is to help the leader to win. They're protected by the domestiques. The domestiques pace them, protect them, collect drinks for them and if needs be, give them their bikes and wait by the side of the road.

The leaders are the ones who become famous. And well paid. And the subject of sycophantic biographies. And they are loved because...I'm not sure why.

~~~

I've seen other leaders in action, and I was raised to admire a different type of leader. Leadership, as I understood it, was self sacrificing and modest. Success was determined in the behaviour and choices of others. Leadership meant setting stuff up for other people to take on and carry forward, for other people to benefit from.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
A cigarette is still a comforting thing. And for a few minutes the fogginess lifts as well. Not that I can do much, I'm physically wiped out by it at the same time.

It got me out of the house - there's a spot with a chair at the door of the shed. I stare down a long driveway. When it's dark I don't feel like I'm on show to an empty room. A long, empty room made of concrete.

It's all concrete, everything is concrete. Down here at my end there are pots, full of potting mix which needs regular renewal - not more matter to break down and be absorbed, but replacement with more stuff that comes in plastic bags and should never be inhaled. Potted plants can't survive without constant intervention. None of it is spontaneous: no bugs or insects, no dirt for me to stand in. No trees to touch.

How much I miss that. It was my home.

Dirt costs money, so I may not find another. I also have the other requirements, the sensible ones that mean I can't run away to where at least I could have some dirt.

My identity has always been tied up with dirt and plants and the critters that live among them.

Over the years I've had to rebuild chunks of myself a few times, I'm not sure I can do this one.
splodgenoodles: (rickyswallow)
It says something about where I'm at - still - that last week, after locking myself out and having to break in, and being rather shook up, my preference was to go to someone else's home for the evening. Even though I've only been to that particular place a couple of times before. Admittedly the people there are awesomely wonderful and welcoming, but still...maybe that's inevitable when you live alone.

Wanting to hang out with friends in times of stress is only a problem if you don't have friends or can't be with the ones you do have. On this occasion this wasn't a problem, and I'm trying to ensure it's less and less likely to be a problem in my future. I want an improved sense of social cohesion back, social identity. But at least I know that that's what I need.

What worried me more is that in the following day or so, with the wibble and drama over, I felt more cheerful about life and I think it was simply because something had happenned. It was interesting. It was a challenge. It tested me (and I passed).

When you are so lacking in an ongoing sense of engagement with the world that being locked out cheers you up, something has got to change. It ties into social place, it's too big that it cannot be linked. But I don't know what it could be.

It's not about whether I've got a to-do list or not. I have got one, and I'm getting through it as I need to. It's just that the to-do list is not enough.

I don't know what I'm talking about. And that's the problem.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I was being wheeled from one place to another. My pusher saw fellow pushers in the foyer, they said hi and engaged in normal social/work chit-chat. I smiled and nodded too, just standard cursory nod of acknowledgement, but no one looked at me. We went to the lifts. One of them said for Christmas he hoped that a particular out-of-order lift would be repaired. I quipped that 'one call always hope.' No one noticed that I spoke.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I was being wheeled from one place to another. My pusher saw fellow pushers in the foyer, they said hi and engaged in normal social/work chit-chat. I smiled and nodded too, just standard cursory nod of acknowledgement, but no one looked at me. We went to the lifts. One of them said for Christmas he hoped that a particular out-of-order lift would be repaired. I quipped that 'one call always hope.' No one noticed that I spoke.
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
*twiddles thumbs*

The earlier part of today was fine: nice weather, 10B at home but cheerful, nothing spectacular but life good in a tum-ti-tum kind of way.

Saw my endocrinologist. Nothing much to report, I'll have blood tests tomorrow but we're not expecting any surprises. I've lost weight. It's noticeable on the scales, but not in terms of my actual size. Unfortunately it's probably due to Crohn's Disease, not good health.

Feeling a bit humdrum now though. I don't feel like knitting, it's too late to get stuck into anything else but feels too early to go to bed. I feel I should be doing something useful, but I'm not quite up to it. I suspect the smart money is on going to bed with a book. And reminding myself of the months that turned into years of not having the brain power to read a book at all.

Overall: plenty of tasks, not enough purpose. Or spoons. I want more spoons. I am ungrateful.

~~~

The good thing about procrastination is that the things that matter never get done, so you never run out of purpose.

~~~

Right. Time for pjs and a book.

Oh and PS: I got new bras in the mail today. One of them fits! The rest are being returned and more ordered (the fitting one is a sports bra so it's full cover, I'm still kind of hoping for a couple of other options as well). The company is Bella Forma. They specialise in larger fittings and encourage you to order, try and return as much as you need to - it's free postage for returns.
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
*twiddles thumbs*

The earlier part of today was fine: nice weather, 10B at home but cheerful, nothing spectacular but life good in a tum-ti-tum kind of way.

Saw my endocrinologist. Nothing much to report, I'll have blood tests tomorrow but we're not expecting any surprises. I've lost weight. It's noticeable on the scales, but not in terms of my actual size. Unfortunately it's probably due to Crohn's Disease, not good health.

Feeling a bit humdrum now though. I don't feel like knitting, it's too late to get stuck into anything else but feels too early to go to bed. I feel I should be doing something useful, but I'm not quite up to it. I suspect the smart money is on going to bed with a book. And reminding myself of the months that turned into years of not having the brain power to read a book at all.

Overall: plenty of tasks, not enough purpose. Or spoons. I want more spoons. I am ungrateful.

~~~

The good thing about procrastination is that the things that matter never get done, so you never run out of purpose.

~~~

Right. Time for pjs and a book.

Oh and PS: I got new bras in the mail today. One of them fits! The rest are being returned and more ordered (the fitting one is a sports bra so it's full cover, I'm still kind of hoping for a couple of other options as well). The company is Bella Forma. They specialise in larger fittings and encourage you to order, try and return as much as you need to - it's free postage for returns.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Seriously, a wheatbag body suit. You'd also have to build an extra big microwave to heat it up in, but it would be worth the trouble. How could it not be?
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Seriously, a wheatbag body suit. You'd also have to build an extra big microwave to heat it up in, but it would be worth the trouble. How could it not be?

Yowsa.

May. 31st, 2010 10:54 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Someone's having an attack of glum tonight.

I felt physically a lot better today than I have the last few days and got a few things done that I was really glad to get done. But blammo, tonight I have the glums. A sudden attack of what's-the-point-of-it-allness and a strange sense that I am supposed to be eating worms.

I'm sure there is work I am supposed to be doing but I don't know what it is - and I don't have the spoons.

Yowsa.

May. 31st, 2010 10:54 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Someone's having an attack of glum tonight.

I felt physically a lot better today than I have the last few days and got a few things done that I was really glad to get done. But blammo, tonight I have the glums. A sudden attack of what's-the-point-of-it-allness and a strange sense that I am supposed to be eating worms.

I'm sure there is work I am supposed to be doing but I don't know what it is - and I don't have the spoons.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Still waiting for this cold to go away.

tum-ti-tum

*twiddles thumbs*

My real GP (not a locum) came by today and gave me better advice on how to use the ventolin inhaler than the locum gave me last weekend (basically she said to buy a spacer-thing). This time, it actually had a noticeable effect in that I felt I bit lightheaded at least and I'm hacking up more goo. Yay.

10B is off at the party that a whole bunch of you are probably at, I hope you're all enjoying yourselves you jammy bastards. I think I might text and ask if there's cake. I'm feeling properly hungry today for the first time in a while, and by golly I'd really like some cake. I'm sure the birthday girl would be kind enough to send him home with some...

Of course I'll be asleep by then, but I can wake up for cake. I will just put my sleepy face in it and go nomnomnom and then go back to sleep again.

I'm ranting. I'd really like to rant about True Blood, because we just whooshed through Season One, but it involves effort. Except Spoilers! )

This has got to be the most fun telly we've seen in a long time! We're quibbling about it after the lights are out and last night, after 10B had started snoring. It's that good. (No really, he argues in his sleep, it's so much more fun than when he's awake).

I have also been finding parallels with Trailer Park Boys and think there should be some crossover episodes. After all, they're nearly all poor and living in trailers. It's just that in True Blood the characters are surrounded by lush vegetation, they fuck with great frequency and abandon, and they are not ugly in any way except internally. Oh and some of them are undead and none of them are Canadian.

Must get season two, forthwith.

But if it turns out my favourite character is really dead, I might just chuck a tanty.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Still waiting for this cold to go away.

tum-ti-tum

*twiddles thumbs*

My real GP (not a locum) came by today and gave me better advice on how to use the ventolin inhaler than the locum gave me last weekend (basically she said to buy a spacer-thing). This time, it actually had a noticeable effect in that I felt I bit lightheaded at least and I'm hacking up more goo. Yay.

10B is off at the party that a whole bunch of you are probably at, I hope you're all enjoying yourselves you jammy bastards. I think I might text and ask if there's cake. I'm feeling properly hungry today for the first time in a while, and by golly I'd really like some cake. I'm sure the birthday girl would be kind enough to send him home with some...

Of course I'll be asleep by then, but I can wake up for cake. I will just put my sleepy face in it and go nomnomnom and then go back to sleep again.

I'm ranting. I'd really like to rant about True Blood, because we just whooshed through Season One, but it involves effort. Except Spoilers! )

This has got to be the most fun telly we've seen in a long time! We're quibbling about it after the lights are out and last night, after 10B had started snoring. It's that good. (No really, he argues in his sleep, it's so much more fun than when he's awake).

I have also been finding parallels with Trailer Park Boys and think there should be some crossover episodes. After all, they're nearly all poor and living in trailers. It's just that in True Blood the characters are surrounded by lush vegetation, they fuck with great frequency and abandon, and they are not ugly in any way except internally. Oh and some of them are undead and none of them are Canadian.

Must get season two, forthwith.

But if it turns out my favourite character is really dead, I might just chuck a tanty.

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