Anonymous asked: Good luck with those exams !
Thank you, oh anonymous one!
Anonymous asked: Good luck with those exams !
Thank you, oh anonymous one!
My exams are happening soon. My first one is the day after tomorrow. And these exams are IMPORTANT; how I do in them will decide which university I go to. Therefore, blogging is currently taking a back seat.
My exams don’t end until the 19th June, but I’m hoping to blog a little in that interim. I’ve next set time aside to blog on the 26th May, so hopefully I’ll be posting a little within a fortnight. If I’m not, though, just assume that I’m panicking about A Levels and send me luck.
Anonymous asked: Have you ever felt responsible for someone else's injury or death?
I’ve felt responsible for people’s emotional injury on occasion, which makes me very sad. :( Occasionally it’s been necessary - leaving bad relationships, that type of thing - so although I feel sad I don’t beat myself up about it too much. Sometimes, it’s been because I’ve done something stupid/thoughtless, in which case I do beat myself up about it and try to figure out how now to do it again. (That doesn’t always work though…sometimes I am just as stupid and thoughtless all over again.)
I’ve never felt responsible for someone’s physical injury, except really minor ones. Like I was walking a blindfolded guy around on a leash once at a club and managed to walk him into a wall. I felt quite terrible about that. I’ve given a few people nosebleeds or knocked the wind out of them at karate class, but that’s karate, that’s allowed. I do have one terrible story about that though. I went to a class where I was not only the highest grade in the class and also the oldest by quite some way (it was a Saturday morning lesson which is mainly for kids, but it was the only lesson I could do that week and it’s not like teenagers - as I was at the time - are banned), so we were line training; there was a whole line of kids in front of me who would run up one at the time, block my strike, and run to the back of the line. Most of the kids were fairly slow and sleepy so I was aiming my strikes to just miss them in case they didn’t manage to block, but then this one mid-grade kid came up, and he was jumping around, on his toes, seemed really alert and had his hands up ready to go, so I aimed a kick at him - fairly slow and easy to block, but if he didn’t block then it would make contact with him. I was expecting him to dodge, or block, or something, but no, for some ridiculous reason he jumped forward, right onto my foot, and even though it was a slow kick there was a reasonable amount of power behind it, and this tiny kid just crumpled to the floor gasping for air - I’d got his solar plexus.
I was like “ohshitohshitohshit I killed a child ohshit” but I didn’t get in trouble, Sensei checked he wasn’t actually going to die and then told him that that was part of the training and go back to the end of the line. I felt awful at the time but now I look back and find it fairly funny; not because I hurt a child, but because the whole situation was so surreal. To this day I still cannot fathom why he stepped forward rather than to the side.
As far as I’m aware no one’s ever had to go to the GP/A&E because of me though. Which is good! I hope to keep it that way.
These are some symptoms of autistic spectrum disorders that I experience, and I’m posting them because I don’t think people don’t think about minor forms of autism enough. People get stuck on the Rain Man/Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time caricature, and though I like both those works of fiction, they are fiction. Not that many people with ASDs are like that in real lfe. There are a lot more people with ASDs like me, where it’s subtle, and you probably wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it - you’d just think them a bit quirky. None of these things actually affect my life too much in isolation, but together they just…make things a little harder. I have to work a bit harder than most people in day to day life, and so I get tired out a bit more quickly than average and need to rest a little more. It’s like doing life on hard mode.
I’ve written before about being transferred up from child to adult psychiatric services, and how, at first, it really wasn’t very helpful. Things were getting better on that front - I started getting to know my care coordinator and learning to work with her. She referred me to a psychotherapist who she thought would suit me and helped me apply for a personal budget to fund it, which was great.
Then…she got moved to a different part of the service and I was suddenly care coordinator-less. With no warning. At the end of the session we did the personal budget forms in she told me she’s being transferred, and the service hadn’t even started recruiting her replacement yet. So that was fun.
But I was still booked in to see this psychotherapist, which is good. I went to my appointment and I like her, I think I’ll be able to work with her. But she knew nothing about me other than my first name. Nothing. I cannot overemphasise how little she knew about me. No one had told her anything about me - not my age, not what I’m doing with my life, not my medical history, not even that I’m on the fecking autistic spectrum - even though I was referred to her in part because she specialises in ASDs. This psychotherapist appears to be passionate about her job with a lot of time for her patients, so I’m guessing this is not because she screwed up, but because the main service screwed up and never gave her any information about me. Possibly worse, she didn’t even know if our sessions were funded or not, because the personal budget hadn’t been processed yet, and as I didn’t have a care coordinator, she had no point of contact for me…and if the funding isn’t there, I obviously can’t have sessions. She said she’d assume the funding was sorted for the first few sessions but it did need to be clarified.
Anonymous asked: Thank you for replying to my inquiry about your modelling and thank you for the links. I can see why you would be inspired by some of those images.
No worries…sorry it took me so long. I’m terrible at messages. When I receive one I’m like “yay! Someone wants to talk to me!” and then I forget about it for around a month. x.x
The rules of my relationship with the boy are nominally very simple:
It is not as simple as I want it to be…
In general, I am good at tracking my feelings. There are a few people I’ve crushed on; I have a few friends with benefits who I would count as good friends, and whose welfare I care about and am invested in. But love is something different, and it’s something that I haven’t come close to finding with anyone else.
I find it hard to define what “being in love” means to me. I know I am in love with the boy. It’s something special about him and about us, but I often find it hard to vocalise the difference between The Relationship and all my other relationships. I guess…it’s feeling calmer just by being in the same room as him; it’s being comfortable and open around him all the time, with no exceptions (this is rare in my angsty brain); it’s sending him silly texts and bringing him little gifts from my adventures; it’s dropping everything when he needs me; it’s him being my first port of call whenever something that makes me sad or happy or that I think is funny happens. I get that with friends as well…but not as much. Not in the same way.
Sometimes I want to be that person for other people too, especially when I see my friends drooping and miserable. I want to be their first port of call and I want to drop everything for them; I want to buy them silly gifts and snuggle them and hug them and kiss them better and tell them I love them…
Anonymous asked: What made you decide to start modelling ? Do you still enjoy it ? I'm interested because I'm an artist (not a photographer) and for the last few years the female nude has been my only subject matter.
I started modelling because I spent an obscene amount of time of deviantART admiring the photography there - I also discovered a fair few admirable models who made me see modelling as more of a creative process than just being the mannequin for a photographer’s vision. I really admired the shapes they made - skin and bone twisted into an exquisite image. After a while, I wanted to be making those shapes…
So when I turned 18 I did!
In the main, I really enjoy modelling. Life modelling is almost uniformly meditative and relaxing; I leave sessions feeling AMAZING. I don’t feel under much pressure and there isn’t much prep, so it’s a really easy job that I get a lot out of. Occasionally I’ll get a class which asks me to do ridiculous poses for long periods, and that’s a bit awkward because then I have to firmly decline, but I can always just not work with them again.
Photographic work is more of a mixed bag. Some photographers are irritating and/or boring to work with, average-to-below photographers who don’t have an original thought in their heads; but that’s why I get paid, and there’s normally at least a few nice sets from the day. But some photographers are amazing and inspirational to work with, artists who are constantly striving to improve and create work that we can all be proud of; those people make it all worth it; I leave shoots with those people on a huge high, knowing that we’ve had a productive collaboration and produced beautiful imagery.
BTW, if you’re interested, these are some of the galleries that inspired me to start modelling:
http://shy-too-shy.deviantart.com/gallery/ (specifically her work with Michael Helms, who was Pelicanh on dA but has taken down almost all his work now, which is a shame because I really admired it)
(Although remember that I was looking at these people 3 years ago, and some of them have changed what they shoot significantly since then. In particular, Meluxine did a lot more art nude work back then, she appears to be more orientated towards fashion-y type things now.)
I wrote this about a year ago. Still relevant. I’m posting it because it’s useful context for the next text post.
I have a slightly awkward habit of blurting out “I love you” during sex. It’s a habit imported from sex with my most consistent and frequent sexual partner, my best friend and lover who I’ve been seeing in one way or another for about three years now. It doesn’t mean anything; I’m just as likely to forget myself and tell a one night stand that I love them (but only if they’re good enough to make me forget myself) as I am to tell the aforementioned best friend/lover/sexual partner in crime (who wouldn’t have been around so long if he weren’t good enough to make me forget myself). It doesn’t mean I’m going to be upset if they move away tomorrow, that I’ll hang around and make demands on their time, or that I feel much more than “fuck that’s good”.
It’s still true though.
It upsets me that I only feel comfortable telling my primary partner that I love him. My relationship with him is not the only loving relationship in my life, and it bothers me that in modern parlance “in a relationship with [xyz]” appears to mean “I am in a full time romantic and sexual relationship with [xyz]”. That’s just nonsense.
A short list of the people I am currently in relationships with:
I could go on….
Any person that I frequently interact with, I have formed an interpersonal bond with; I am in a relationship with them. It may not be a positive relationship, or a committed relationship, or a particularly intense relationship, but it’s still a relationship. A great many of these relationships involve some form of love, but outside very close friends and family I don’t feel comfortable vocalising it because of the risk of being misunderstood. I’ve been seeing my driving instructor once or twice a week for two years now (driving does not come naturally to me); we talk to each other, share jokes and anecdotes, and I’ve occasionally confided in him when things have gone wrong. I feel affection for him; I trust him and respect him; I’ll be sad when I eventually pass my test and have to say goodbye. Isn’t that a type of love?
Do you remember this?
I was miserable for 5 days after…like, miserable, as in, tears, trouble sleeping, can’t think, not eating. It’s not anyone’s fault, really. I overreact to things and get caught up in emotional spirals, partially because that’s who I am, mainly because I have this depression thing eating away at me and anything which implies I might be a bad person (like people being angry at me) fuels the bit of me that still whispers into my ear “you are worthless you are useless you are unlovable and you do not deserve to live”. It’s a tiny, tiny voice these days - it used to be a screaming, constant roar inside my head - but events like those ones give it strength.
I tried to analyse what had happened and think about what I could have done better and how other people were feeling and if I could have been more considerate of their feelings and their limits, and if I could have responded to anything any better. My basic conclusion was that I should have behaved better towards VA, and I could have kept my temper with C. On the other hand, no one in my adult life (my adult life started when I left the psychiatric hospital) has ever threatened me with violence. I don’t know how to respond to that, so I’m going to forgive myself an inability to cope with someone saying to me “I want to punch you”. I think C should not have reacted violently to my interactions with VA, but I don’t fancy confronting her over it - she probably won’t listen to me, and I have no prior relationship with her, so there isn’t any friendship to fight for.
If VA and C weren’t close, I would probably talk to VA and say “I’m sorry I did this, I shouldn’t have; but in future I would appreciate clearer communication from you so that I can respond to how you’re feeling better and we can both have a nicer time”. But I suspect that VA would not be willing to accept that his behaviour could also have been a bit better, and as he and C are close any conflict with him might also become a conflict with C. Don’t fancy that; not getting in a physical fight is a good life goal to have, I think. And though I have played with VA on a few occasions before, he’s hardly a good friend, so I don’t mind too much if I lose him. I know plenty of other lovely people (and VA sometimes talks to me in a way I’m uncomfortable with, e.g. on introducing me, “this is Tansy, she’s learning to be a good girl”. Is she really? When were you intending to tell me about this?).
One thing I was clear on: I was really rude to RA right before I left. I was crazy upset and couldn’t think straight, and I took it out on him, and it was WRONG. He didn’t deserve it. So I gathered my thoughts and sent him this message on Facebook: