Posts made by Paris

@arkandel Condolences, I'm so sorry. ;.;

@Arkandel Humans are just disgusting, filthy creatures. :<

@Tinuviel I didn't have to, and that's not what they're doing, either. :< I might be more forgiving if they were.

Also able-bodied skinny people without kids using the disabled stall. Or the disabled stall's latch is broken, the TP roll is on the floor, there is, yes, pee on the seat and it wasn't a disabled person who left it there, etc...

People will get in that stall and stay there for over a half hour. I assume they're doing drugs, because they're NOT having a shit.

I live in a world-class city, but all the barbarians are attracted to the disabled stall. And often have to hit three separate casinos or restaurants or whatever just to find one empty stall. Which sucks, considering my tumor crushed my bladder and thus trying to hold it is excruciating.

I finally had to hobble out of my chair and use the regular stall after the disabled one was just a horror, last we stopped at Popeyes. I've had to do this in the bathroom of the Bellagio, too, so it's a problem everywhere. And I have to hope my chair doesn't get stolen! I swear to god I'm suing if I ever fall, which I am at high risk to do again.

@thenomain Try a little bit of lip balm (no mint whatsoever) or petroleum jelly.

@auspice It's a double-edged sword. Being thin brings with it admiration which is admittedly nice (I got a lot of attention after I moved to the US, back home I was too 'ethnic'-- now ironically I just look pasty), but the attention is often quite negative from those who resent a thin person either getting attention instead of them, or are not giving the attention-giver enough of theirs. I found I got the best attention when I've been a bit heavier but made a point of dressing beautifully, since I have never had the luxury of being invisible in public at any point in my life.

Except by shoppers in malls or people staring at their phones. Not good for my head vs their elbows and bags!

@rnmissionrun You and me both, man.

I'd get a belt, but I only really stand up at home and even then only when necessary (my condo is build to be ADA-friendly in terms of lights and the bathroom letting in a wheelchair, but the kitchen is too narrow for my wheelchair's canted wheels and it was bought when I was much bigger from the tumor in my abdomen), and when I sit they dig into my surgical scar tissue.

Thinking of getting suspenders, though.

Man, I miss Valentine now. T^T

A woman saw him in my open office doorway (when I had a small gallery), and she was passing by with her friend outside. She screamed absolute murder and collapsed because just the sight of his giant self terrified her. He held very still and looked at me and was all like, 'Is she okay?' Just sat there like a rock as we all tried to help the poor lady, nope, not here, I am a totally invisible mass of floof. He got a lot of snuggles afterward because he still looked worried after they moved on.

Did I post this one already?

Hewas too creaky to get up on my bed, but was perfectly happy to sleep on the floor at its foot. I tried to put up a doggie bed for him but he hated it, I think he just liked the cool tile.

I was tossing the ball to make it up to doggo for terrorizing her all evening, and she must be a little salty, because when I, after getting tired (because she never gets tired), said, "Okay, last one," when she was coming back with said ball -- she knows that means that I will throw it for her one last time and then to go bug Bot for, you know, six hours of throwing ball (did I mention she never gets tired?) she, instead of the usual, lifted it WAY high up in the air and yodeled basically, "Yeah, you WISH you got to throw that last ball," came over and then danced away, and went over to give it to Bot instead.

Who threw it for her, and only THEN did she come back for her last ball.

Point made, doggo. Point made.

I suggest folks never breed a rhodie, a pit bull and a basenji, because that mix will literally keep moving until they drop from exhaustion. She ran a literal marathon with us (we wheeled alongside on the sidewalk as you can't use day chairs) and then wanted us to throw the ball for her for like six hours after. We made her take breaks.

(Addendum: She brings the ball to Bot's desk and places it within her reach, and Bot has mastered the art of flipping it pretty damn far with a tablet pen in her mouth. Over. And over. And over...)

There really is no describing how dysfunctionally great that feeling is when you stand up and your pants hit your ankles.

Also allergies will totally puff your face up.

My poor doggo, who I've terrified with sneezes all day and who normally MUCH prefers to sleep at my feet. This was after a chemo infusion, as she immediately attached herself to me pretty surgically for the next three days after, and would just lie there and watch me for any bad signs.

@thenomain In lighter fare, I couldn't stop sneezing earlier because I have the plague and my face is just absolute pestilence, and my dog is terrified of sneezes. So my afternoon has been :

Paris sneezes explosively.

Doggo jumps off bed and hides under it!

"Oh no cutie, come back out! It's ok!"

Doggo crawls out, hesitantly wagging her cute little tail.

Paris sneezes explosively again!

Doggo runs back under bed.

"Oh no, cutie..."

Doggo comes back out.

Paris sneezes explosively again!

Doggo runs...

@faraday What we're having an issue with is the concept that it's a disorder if, say, you just don't like your books arranged any other way than by color.

Yes, that is mildly obsessive-compulsive in the absolute mildest sense (I experience it myself with asymmetrical things and repeating patterns), but it's not a disorder. Being a kid with OCD was a real challenge in navigating day to day life because so much of my time was wrapped up in endlessly engaging in pointless but necessary behaviors in order to extend imagined control over my life and what I imagined (or what actually would) happen to me.

@theonceler I loved the Orville episode with all the beefy action, and Bot and I commented that they handled the whole thing surprisingly well, and hopefully other shows get the clue. The show has really grown on me, when I kinda disliked the first few episodes.

Also great is this and last season of Legends of Tomorrow, yep. Also he's a better Constantine in Legends than in his own series because CW isn't as sissy about his quirks as the other network was.

Also finding ways to block out his crotch or stop him from smoking without being preachy about it have been pretty funny.

@auspice said in Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.:

but looking back it'd always happen when my family life was at its worst and I'd be internalizing a lot of stress. I'd end up awake 24-48 hours straight just cleaning, organizing, rearranging furniture, itemizing everything... because since I had no control over THAT part of my life, I was taking control of THIS part of my life.

Every time we're starting to struggle financially, I have to do a grocery. I am not at ease unless there's enough food in the house for at least four meals. And not like just annoyed, either, terrified. I feel like if I can just feed us that night, the next day will be okay. If I don't, calamity!

So I commend @Auspice on where she's at with her diagnosis despite our differences, as I am quite familiar with the horror of completely dysfunctional OCD, and I hope that she has the strength to continue grappling with it.

@tinuviel said in Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.:

Now, is it possible for such things to be a disorder? Most certainly. It's possible. As in not always. "I need to keep my shit organised" is not OCD, "I need to keep my shit organised or I'm fairly sure the entire country will be plunged into war and my family will burn alive" is OCD.

OCD isn't really about the compulsions, it's about the reason behind the compulsions.

'If I complete this before the time is up, the day will go well.' 'If I step on this crack, things will go well.' 'If I tap the wall, things will go well.' 'If I keep one foot against the baseboard going down the bathroom hall, things will go well.' 'If I reach my bed before four seconds, things will go well.'

This was basically my life as an abused kid. If I just did all of the rituals right, maybe mom wouldn't attack me later. If I did the rituals right, maybe bro wouldn't pin me to the wall later. If I did all the rituals right...

For my mom, it was, 'if I don't keep the house pristine, people will talk.' 'If I don't keep my middle child pristine, people will talk.' So she controlled obsessively everything I wore, ate, said, how I was allowed to move. If I even dropped a glass of water, I was punished. If I read a book in public, I was punished. If I ate more than I was allowed BUT conversely I was forced to eat great amounts of things I hated, just to show me very agitatedly that PEOPLE WOULD TALK. If I had any pinchable fat on my body, I was starved. If my siblings acted out, I must be punished, as they had obviously 'caught' it from me: they were 'perfect'. (They were not, they smoked, did drugs, etc.) It was never clear to me why this was particularly bad or good or whatever to her, but she was completely fixated on this obsessive ideal of perfection and somehow I was the shit on the stainless tile floor of her life.

But you know, everyone knew my family was fucked, they talked anyway, so she clamped down harder. It was all to avoid this great consequence.

However:

My brother couldn't walk five steps without twitching his head when he was stressed. He collected a collection of tics and got ever more rigid about things. He started to leave obsessive memos all over the house: 'Parisplayer is a loser.' 'A winner does this, a loser does this.' He obsessed over his popularity, he obsessed over my dad being an asshole who liked my unemotional self over him; he obsessed over keeping my mom and I at odds. He obsessed at being head of the family. I'm pretty sure he did quite a few other things, it's only in hindsight that I saw how elaborate and fixated he got. He's on meds, but apparently still quite overcontrolling, at least toward my mom and my sister. He actively believes that I 'contaminated' the family and must be cut out (I figure he picked up on this from mom), and saw my cancer as something I deserved. Losers get sick. Losers die. That's what they deserve, because they're filthy.

Both he and my mother were extremely upset that I was a nerd who was not particularly interested in being popular and MIGHT be queer. This was not just 'ugh that nerd' but like fixated, agitated freakouts to be corrected with highly ritualised behavior lest (to my brother) the sky crack open and the devil, I shit you not, consume our house. I was the cause of all strife and all sin (you know, unlike his drug use), and if I could just be somehow either fixed or removed, all will be well.

When I got away, they started on my sister (formerly the perfect one), who'd initially followed their example but then matured into an interestingly independent person-- but she wants to be loved, so she puts up with it. She doesn't, thank god for her, have OCD. She's got anxiety, but gee, I wonder why.

I am fortunate that in seeing how destructive unmedicated severe OCD, combined with enabling and destructive behavior, will damage your relationships; and how OCDs yammering and panic in your brain will bring about foolish behavior. I am extremely extremely fortunate that I am so disassociative, (see above) because one part will yammer and the other will try to put on the brakes if it can. So I still check the door because the circuit to finishing the action didn't complete if I just do it automatically, so I have Bot watch. So I feel horrified at touching the dirty dishes, but I haven't gotten sick yet, so I do them even if I want to vomit-- and I buy paper plates. There's a lot I'd like to manage better, but my household gets along, my sweetie is taken care of as best I can manage, and the house hasn't burned down yet.

So no, having to arrange your books by color isn't a disorder. I, personally, have to arrange my garden and my art really symmetrically or I get frustrated looking at the bad angles, but that's not disorded even if it is obsessive. In the case of art, it made me a better artist (disorders do come with strange payoffs sometimes), who has been willing to labor for days on a work to make it just right, so someone fixated on book colors could possibly turn that into a decorating asset.

I know this is long, sorry.

Edit: I came out of that with an eating disorder (yes, diagnosed) as well, just like my mom! And a completely distorted body image. But I mostly manage that these days, and Bot has been a great help.

None of this was caused by my adoptive grandparents, by the way; they were great and a source of real comfort to me as a kid. (So my brother obsessed and succeeded in acquiring the things they left to me.) My biological grandparents, however, well, I don't need to detail that clusterfuck. My mother's siblings are almost all mentally ill to some degree or other. I really fear for my nephews and nieces and I have no idea how my family line has made it to this day.

@tinuviel Yeah.