• I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Ahhh Oregon. You wild, wild, west you.

    This is about certain assholes, since it’s getting missed that most of the building probably wants to avoid coming to notice – and indeed have been quite nice.

    Just not everyone

    And for no fucking reason other than taking no shit.

    Heinous!

    Anyway…

    All the martial arts training in the world doesn’t prepare you for threats and bullying from the safety of the other side of the door.

    Mine was a long time ago admittedly. Mostly off record, and with personal attention. But I have age and speed and some bitch has bravado.

    “You write another post like that and we’ll come to blows.”

    Oh we will? Do you promise? Because now I’m in a mood.

    Go ahead, break down the door. Go to jail. I can defend myself just fine you stupid bitch.

    Since I’m the one with the least to lose, I’m the one to fear the most. And I’d like to avoid breaking bone if I counter strike.

    Thank you.

    I’m trying to figure out if I can ever be happy again.

    So far the vote is no. Not around the hen house of “bitches and cunts”. (Originally intended to say the whole building isn’t like that. But the truth doesn’t give as much moaning material.)

    My soul will never heal. I will never return to the light. No one cares anyway so fuck it.

    But apparently, according to my very loud neighbor, “The real Sylvanna? Abusive.”

    That’s what abusive bitches now do, expecting us to shy away from rebuking them for fear of being accused of that which is destroying us.

    It’s looking pretty likely my death is preferable to everyone. But I’m in a mood.

    Blows over blog posts?

    The fuck is wrong with you?

    Fucking don’t like it, don’t read it.

    Do you all imagine you’re some cowboys in a film about stopping a book before your shitty power tactics are exposed? Can I leave your film please?

    Come back to reality, you stupid bitches.

    This is the 21st. Century but apparently women here handle criticism form another woman like stoning to death is an option.

    Actually that might be preferable to listening to my neighbor complain about me again. Loud enough so I can hear. But she fusses to management if I cry too loudly. And if I drop something she says I’m throwing things.

    And god please help her avoid banging on the fucking wall then telling management it was me. I can’t reach my wall. My fingers are too fragile and I’m fucking fed up.

    Just… I don’t know. Learn to behave like civilized adults.

    The rest of the building probably thinks we all lost our damn minds. I know I’m going crazy.

    Now if you don’t mind I need to pray for your poison to be eradicated from my body never to return to me.

    It’s the only recourse I have left.

    ,

    P.S according to the peanut gallery, “none of us like you anymore.”

    Really? Who the fuck are you? Do you take this personally?

    Then it’s about you, and you can fuck right off you fucking child!

    And

    “I’m going to make sure amazon doesn’t deliver to her anymore”

    About

    A

    Fucking

    Blog

    Post

    What the fuck is wrong with you?

    Tabitha is fed up too
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    The toxic dormitory style living continues wherein everyone listens in on my private conversations and comments on them afterwards.

    Earlier I went into the no-win scenario and have an even better example.

    I was literally lying down, my thoughts my own. No muttering. No ASL. No studying. Just trying to sort my feelings silently.

    Oh no even that is not good enough.

    Some asshole had to weigh in with her opinion on me and my attempts at a career. I hadn’t done or said a fucking thing.

    This time of peace and repentance had a rocky start. I had settled down. The situation had (for now) settled down. But it was possible it was because I was already too miserable to function.

    I feared never being able to be happy again because I would always be wondering what the next bitch would side swipe me with.

    The cunt brigade, the bitch battalion, and the sanctimonious assholes who object to me objecting. I swear too much. I get too frustrated. My soul is ugly now.

    Yeah sure, it matches my mutilated genitalia. That alone makes me feel like off this planet, thank you. In whose reality do bitches and cunts behave this way?

    Theirs apparently.

    They keep saying come back to reality but if they are in it, no fucking way.

    I’m smart, I’m pretty, I’m talented, and I hide out away from the world because any of these puts a bullseye on my back all three means they think I should be target practice.

    I’m too busy for your bullshit. I don’t care if I’m just trying to meditate and visualize. I am permanently too busy. Okay?

    Every opportunity I have to get better is clawed into.

    I’m harassed and harangued the night before psychiatric appointments so I can barely stay awake enough to communicate.

    Medical appointments have to be rescheduled because the cunt brigade harasses me into being too tired to go.

    They say they’re trying to kill me. I say they’re trying to kill me. But it would take my corpse before consequences came to them.

    I can’t get better like this. And they don’t want me to.

    Lies, gaslighting, 24/7 harassment and every achievement shat on, they want me to what? Never succeed? They’re such failures this is the only power they have?

    Oh.

    Some of us are here because of a disability, running from an abusive ex. Some have tried and collapsed so many times they’ve lost count. This isn’t a reference to bombing out. But I really think fuckery on this level is a failure of moral character at least.

    Can’t escape so can’t let me.

    It’s purely about power and control. And I’ll climb out of the pit this one last time. But they sink their talons in and I’m out.

    It’s not an ultimatum, it’s a warning.

    I can’t survive another attempt to improve undermined by the bitch battalion.

    We’ll see if they’re too stupid to understand that.

    P.S. Too stupid is the vote. If I complain again, apparently we’ll come to blows.

    I don’t think that’s a good idea.

    I’ll hide now. Thanks. You’re so stupid it’s scary.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    I have reached the point with my laundry that I am now wearing gym clothes. And as I have a few exercise skirts left I have still put it off!

    I fell asleep clothed again and when changing did the sniff test. The skirt was fine but another day would make it pretty darn ripe!

    Into the hamper it went, and I’m one step closer to needing to wear my one evening outfit to do laundry.

    *giggle, giggle*

    “Sylvanna does the sniff test.”

    Of course I do. What the fuck is wrong with them that they don’t. But it doesn’t matter because it could have gone straight in and it would have been “about time.”

    It’s a no win situation that requires maybe strict obedience if you want to avoid constant micro-criticism more likely to turn you into a nervous wreck than anything else.

    I had thought it was a kind of nastiness intended to wound and cause a fight. The no-win critical situation seems designed just to piss someone off.

    Leaving aside they shouldn’t know in the first place, they certainly shouldn’t comment. And have something nasty and mean spirited to say no matter what. But I finally believe they really are just that awful.

    I muttered “Giggle, giggle, stupid bitch” under my breath. But because I get no privacy – even on the commode – they had a comment on that too. Genuinely surprised and insulted I didn’t take well to their bullshit.

    Look these women might be otherwise nice. But they are behaving so badly by nature of the culture they’re in, no one fucking cares what they think of themselves. They’re stupid bitches.

    I had a friendship go sour when someone became manipulative and controlling and I didn’t take well to it.

    She was also surprised. She viewed herself as kind, thoughtful, and generous. And I viewed myself as those things too. But she tried to posses me and I didn’t really want to be treated like that.

    She might have actually, such commentary aside, been nice, kind, generous, even thoughtful. I suppose I should have yet again looked past bad behavior.

    Yet again.

    No wonder I ended up with abusive men.

    I don’t mind a cranky pants – though I may need to resist giggling. But being a bit on the grumpy side is different than criticism and control and is usually a lack of patience.

    One easily resolved by a smile and a kiss. Some people are just that easily annoyed but not deeply so.

    However it can mask behavior that makes me almost want to tease “is it that time of the month?”

    (Incidentally the last time someone asked that about me, it was because I couldn’t get comfortable. And it was)

    I had forgotten that my ex got cranky and miserable without sexual anything for three days in a row. But he wasn’t interested in sex with me anymore – and it was our first year as a married couple. We should have been like bunnies!

    Some have argued that it’s a myth. People don’t get moody over at least not masturbating.

    Oh yes they do.

    I feel like Dr. Ruth who believes some people are just that repressed and in need of a good orgasm!

    But “has it been a while?” While sometimes true is about as annoying to hear as “is it that time of the month.”

    These are legitimate reasons to be on the cranky side. I’m a firm believer that sex as a way of communicating love and intimacy is also necessary for good health.

    And I’ve been single most of my life because only assholes talk to me so I’ve either been dating a jerk or recovering from dating a jerk.

    Seriously, I needed to get over being too shy to approach someone a long time ago. Now everyone is married and I’m a single middle aged women with compatible fantasies and general kindness but am very single.

    The end all be all of one’s life and identity isn’t a relationship, however. And while one would be nice I’m not holding my breath I will be dating anytime soon.

    Probably because men are expecting bitches and I’m just not one. But independent enough it would take a strong personality to be with me. Not necessarily unable to be gentle. But a level of acceptance for the weird and if not self acceptance, being open to being accepted by me.

    Really I don’t need machismo. While I like men, I really like genderqueer individuals. So one can be softer and still strong of internal nature. Indeed this culture isn’t really ready for male bodied genderqueer individuals so it takes great personal strength to be comfortable.

    Though I’ve wandered from my topic a bit. But how much is there to say about women who don’t seem to be happy no matter what. That they don’t seem to know to mind their own business. And aren’t good at regulating poor behavior. Some potentially otherwise nice. But controlling as fuck.

    That does seem to be a problem I have with a lot of people. If they don’t want to own or manipulate me, they’re so unpleasant I’d rather not. Thank you.

    Which is probably why I’m alone and isolated.

    I’m not the only woman sick of women like that. But they tend to keep their head down and try to avoid notice. While I seem to be noticeable without even leaving my room!

    I don’t know what can be done. This culture needs a wake up call. But until then I have to learn such independence and expertise with emotional tai chi that I can ignore bitches being bitches as soon as I open my eyes.

    Though I reserve the right to make fun of them on my blog.

    Come on, your form of entertainment is someone’s laundry habits? Get a life.

    Please excuse excess moisturizer over my lip!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    What is it about American culture that makes abuse so prevalent it’s normalized and goes unrecognized?

    Individuals snipe and prod but escape by saying “I’m just playing”. Yeah like a cat batting a mouse around before killing it.

    Wit, teasing, banter and flirting seem to have fallen out of favor and sardonic baiting is all that’s replaced it. No one is happy with the situation and no one seems to have noticed why.

    Look you foolish fellow mortals. No one likes having to be “en guarde” at all times. You carry words as weapons and strike the unwitting for fun.

    Then fuck around endlessly if pushed back. Suddenly your abuse goes under the radar and their response is all anyone pays attention to.

    As I dozed today I got the impression that some women around here want to view me as a frothing mess – a state I have indeed been driven to by 72 hours awake while being harassed the whole time. About 3 times.

    I reached full oblivion twice.

    But that’s been a small part of my existence and the other women are just trying to avoid the drama queens.

    God heals all ugliness of the soul. So I am confident the damage to me internally is not permanent. Anger and hate do indeed rip into your essence like it is made of fragile petals.

    But it can be protected if my theories of emotional tai chi hold. Perhaps we can heal the ugliness in American culture.

    Americans band together for protection in herds and regard others as a threat. Separately from if they are, any individual from another herd is considered potentially dangerous.

    The situation is cyclical however because you need the support of a group to weather the abuse of the society. So becoming a herd is natural.

    That (and abusive parents) molds abusive people into being. Then everyone feels justified for being an asshole because everyone is an asshole.

    I hope it’s changing, the more sensitive generations have been mocked by abusive asses while I have been delighted.

    I’m particularly vulnerable to tears when it comes to the atrocities of World War II, so a (probably well written) book was avoided when I was a freshman in high school. At my parent’s insistence. I was too young to cope with such vivid content.

    By reports a classmate lost her breakfast.

    Yet younger generations are mocked and hassled for at least wanting content notifications on books with difficult subjects. I’ve been waiting for these kids all my life – maybe to teach, certainly to encourage.

    The lies told about me prevent me from ever doing so again. And is a great grievance I have with certain American women and their prima Donna control techniques of lying, gaslighting, and cumulative reactive abuse.

    I can’t comment on male toxicity here – I’m not one and most men have been welcoming of my company and did not expect me to have machismo!

    But the kind of toxicity you get here is potentially fatal. This mean girls crap has got to go.

    Abuse is the fastest way to attack and try to control “an outsider”. And the herds, banding together for protection, all go on attack mode if an “alien” being approaches. Not an immigrant – though many are assholes to them too – but any perceived threat.

    To their power, to their control, and perhaps the dating pool. I’m not sure on the latter.

    Those of us used to going from group to group and getting along with everyone are told to “Step in Line” by a woman who wants to be the queen of queens.

    They don’t have anything other than the position to exert social pressure. But boy do they have that and their lies do spread. Ruining those who value independence over conformity.

    They’ll all say they value independence. But it’s independence from the greater culture – as a group. Within their sphere of power you are required to conform or suffer.

    What this means for me I don’t know. I refuse to bow before pettiness but it is breaking me. I need to protect my soul while sleeping the hostility and micro critiquing are so intense.

    Perhaps God can grant me protection to pray. And if I do so, find the fortitude to continue with grace not a grievance a minute.

    Grace.

    Now there is a good goal for the year.

    I’m still struggling with the motivation to care about my life. But should I find that magic perspective I promise to share!

    Perhaps looking for it will keep me going.

    I can hope to be more graceful in my reactions at least.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    If we understand all abuse is about control- including reality abuse. And gaslighting is about disguising abuse – so a sign someone wants control, how do we maintain kindness and gentle behavior without having to be a punching bag.

    I need to know. I’m close to giving up entirely. My cat came and reminded me she loves me. And to be taken from me would break her heart. The death of the person a support animal is looking after is a pain they don’t recover from.

    I am in contact with my family again. I can’t let my mum spend these years grieving her daughter. Nor my dad. My sister and brother in law have enough difficulties.

    My brother would feel a loss that is near tangible. We don’t talk much but he needs me to be alive in the world.

    And I don’t really want to be.

    But the surgeon who saved me put so much effort into an experimental procedure, I can’t let them down.

    And I don’t know who made me promise to do everything I could to get better – I was unconscious at the time. But I agreed and also promised to god I would.

    And the assholes around here are taking advantage of that need to protect them. There are no consequences and this society is so abusive, their bullshit isn’t even noticed.

    How do I protect my soul from hate and anger? How do I avoid letting those surface. This is the time to seek redemption. I must somehow learn to be the sweet heart I want to be – not their definition which is a pawn and a patsy.

    But simply immune to the abuse society hurls and remain nice in the face of scapegoating, gaslighting, torment, maybe torture, and cumulative abuse from an entire herd.

    I have no desire to be a spiritual leader but to light the path towards one. My books are to communicate and for some inspire. And I hope my insights useful at least.

    But I make a very good second in command.

    I hate being in charge but want my support recognized and respected. Sans a leader I write. But it’s either being taken as I spell or has been stolen and the books used to lie and manipulate.

    How am I to survive this?

    Well I’ve come up with the methodology and posted such. But knowing what to do helps no one if I would rather die than be in this position anymore.

    That’s the main issue. I had my books to write and keep me alive. And now I don’t. My family keeps me attached to this world by a thin thread. I have no other reason to live.

    And I don’t want to, personally I want out.

    Sure I have survival techniques now. But I don’t want to use them. I want out.

    My environment is chaos and I decided tidying and cleaning counts as self care, so am marginally motivated to fix it. If I can decide to care for myself there’s always the one thing a day technique.

    Just one thing turns to 30 things in a month and is certainly more than nothing. Maybe one thing a day will cheer me up.

    But that’s still personal. I have the footsteps ahead to get better and pursue mathematics again. All the micro movements and necessities. Yet my environment is so toxic it takes all my energy just to live.

    And I don’t know what to do.

    I’m saggy today! But I recognize myself again,
    This time last year I was 41lbs heavier!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    There is often confusion about negative emotions. They make us feel bad just having them – which is also part of survival. Things that make you so angry you feel hatred are to be avoided!

    Anger is a fight response to fight, flight, freeze, or flee. You are under attack as far as your psyche is concerned and your body floods you with cortisol. Speeding up those perceptive mechanisms you might need. Once it’s hanging around your system it’s easier to be triggered again.

    The issue with anger as a natural biological response – particularly if backed into a corner – is how you react and respond. Not whether you feel it in the first place.

    Don’t leave someone alone to cool off? You’re the asshole. Prod, and bait someone to deliberately make them angry? You are the asshole.

    And for those who just “want to see what you’re made of”? This next part is about you.

    If your internal world perceives a threat to their wellbeing, and you can’t run away. Of course you’re going to feel the emotion of hatred. So if you say, like me, have severe PTSD from reactive abuse and someone “just wants to see”. Of course you’ll learn to hate them.

    That’s your psychological worlds way of communicating, “hey this person is being an enemy, get ready to fight or run, and avoid them”

    It’s a nasty feeling to have. Hatred ruins the soul – so does anger. But they are a physiological response to perceived danger. Of course we don’t enjoy feeling that way our system is trying to get you to avoid the asshole.

    Now some people do seem to fly off about small things. Remember abuse is cumulative and American society has a huge abuse problem. It’s normal and normalized here so we’re all angry all the time and some become hateful.

    It’s abusive to test a temper, bait a fight, engage in a war of words (not consensual sparring) to have nasty comments as one goes by. It’s all very American, and very abusive. They all act like a lone cowboy who doesn’t live in a vacuum but behaves like they do – maybe even feel entitled to. But together.

    It’s awful to be on the receiving end of cowboys and coteries of pissy conformist “popular” girls. (The other frequent reason for bad behavior.)

    The former is plain stupid and vile, if repeated we’re going to learn to hate them and thus try to avoid them.

    The latter is about control and is a stupid idea based on primordial senses that the herd is only safe if everyone around them is in the herd.

    They hate anyone who doesn’t conform to the herd and try to either control them and mold them, or make them flee.

    Fragile egos that feel threatened by beauty of the soul and intellect they can’t understand are responding to a primordial need for being part of a herd. Stronger together and all that.

    It might be why the English pull through in an emergency but feel threatened by oddballs.

    Americans seem confused by a cultural ideology of individualism that runs counter to a need for group safety, likely exacerbated by the strong outward pressure to all be individuals (but only in the way I want).

    Be individuals together…

    Which is actually possible. You look at gaming communities and most are independently weird and want to feel accepted. The mutual task is secondary.

    I want to be around academics, to discuss ideas. Or the spiritually inclined who know better than to judge. (Which is admittedly quite advanced as it requires superior understanding of human nature).

    Of course we’re drawn to the latter for leadership. Those that are peaceful to their core. Which is good to try even if it can’t be entirely achieved. But so many are frightened of the former because we’re interested in learning not leading.

    It turns out that it’s viewed as concurrent with change and that frightens herds terribly.

    It’s instinctual for herds to hen peck and it’s instinctual for actual individuals to become angry, maybe even learn to hate.

    We can evolve past this. But we need to want to. And right now all pressure is on the individual and not those in the herd.

    Of course it is, herds get voters. There are by cultural nature a large group.

    It’s important for an individual to remember they feel threatened by them – because different goes counter to herd mentality. And this culture is frightening without all being weird together.

    That’s what I had when younger. All the usually bullied weirdos banded together and weren’t bullied. Before that I was picked on by the herd. And in college I had a more normal experience – but no dates from classes!

    I am in a situation I want to be left alone to regain my figure and fitness. To bellydance again and pursue academic interests. For some reason my mere presence makes the herd feel threatened and they are on constant attack mode.

    Women where I am tend to have been through hell and maybe not back. So they are going to burn for a sense of safety and are more likely to join a herd for that feeling.

    I am inclined to be friendly but independent despite an extreme history of being abused. That’s good for some, admired by others, but perceived as a threat to the herd by those clinging to a group – some quite naturally so.

    I can argue, complain, learn to hate, and all I am pushed to. But at the end of the day I only have power over myself and I don’t want those feelings.

    I’ll get back to you when I figure out how to put emotional tai chi into such practice so I wake up ready to dodge and deflect.

    I’d rather not be in a situation I have to. But I need to avoid holding my breath, women are going to feel less threatened by me. Particularly when I expose reactive and cognitive abuse – the main power plays of “popular” kids and adults who want the herd to feel safe and never change even if that herd is abusive to them too.

    It’s why immigrants are feared, intellectuals, the unusual. And the tension between a cultural identity that says we’re all different that runs counter to a cultural history, of banding together for a feeling of safety.

    And I’m an unusual, intelligent, imaginative, immigrant.

    I’m bound to have problems.

    Tabitha is unique too!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    There’s this gaslighting too.

    If we move on to fembots I will worry.

    “It’s role playing game”
    God no, not more
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Without going into specifics. I have regret and I need to. Even spells that are both a blessing and a curse can be complicated. And broken by the will and wishes of the one weaving words.

    But while I swore with them. No energy actually went to applying them. It was still too much and I’m sorry.

    Here’s Tabitha being cute, because cute.

    And for the record

    Because cute
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    By the way

    This post has more details

    Check it out.

    In case clicking a link doesn’t work.

    It is indeed making me a bit nervous.

    My woke up grumpy shot.