Welcome to my journal.
What will you find here? Excessive fangirling over everything and anything that catches my fancy. Fanfiction, recs and the occasional personal post.
If you're just here for the fanstuff, then feel free to lurk away. If you want to know me personally and read my personal entries, leave a comment to this post or send me a message to be added to my friends-list.
(Sorry, but I will no longer accept friend requests without some form of contact beforehand.)
If you just want to read my fanfic, you can also find them on my website, made exclusively for the purpose, or on AO3.
Welcome to my journal.
But through all of it, I at least had the comfort of the fact that Pea's dad backed my play. We chat amicably about our son, we text, we get along nicely.
Or so I thought.
Turns out he's been secretly working against me for months. He didn't say a word to me about being unhappy with the way I handled things. He didn't take any initiative to be more involved. He didn't ever show the tiniest indication that he had anything against me at all, or that he even wanted Pea for himself.
Then, yesterday, when I finally crack open the case notes that I've only just gotten in hand, there it is. Short and to the point. He is officially opposing me getting Pea home, and has gotten a lawyer to oppose me. That is betrayal enough in itself, and I called him, very angry, and got the "explanation" that he didn't think I'd had his interests at heart through all of this. Which is a bald-faced lie, first of all, because half the reason I even did this was so Pea could get more time with BOTH his parents, a point which I've consistently made through all of these battles.
Then this morning I'm informed that there was a page missing in the case notes, and when I crack it open, there is an entire full page detailing all the ways I suck, pretty much all of it lies or twisted words, and I'm baffled. I'm completely and utterly baffled, because I cannot for the life of me imagine what I did to him to warrant that kind of attack.
And no matter how blatantly false it is, it definitely hurts my case, so now I'm expecting to lose on Tuesday, where before I thought it was pretty much 50/50.
This man has ripped away my hope, destroyed what I obviously naively thought was a friendship, and effectively crippled my faith in my fellow man.
I had no idea. None. Literally anyone can be my enemy. I have never felt so betrayed and hurt in my entire life, and that includes the time he fucking cheated on me.
So this is it. This is how you become a cynic.
This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/643220.h
See, I've only known about my autism for a little under two years now, but I've always known there was something "off" about me, compared to others. But it has never been seen as a good thing. Only always being cause for scorn or ridicule.
But lately I've been seeing a... well an expert of a sort, in regards to autism and such. And today while I was explaining some of the ways I viewed people around me, she got really excited and happy, because she'd never heard it put quite like that before. She made notes furiously, and when I joked that maybe I should just write a book about it, she got downright giddy and told me she'd definitely buy it.
And because I'm forever and always a shipper first, this made me think of Garak and Bashir. Because all else aside, how flattering must it have been for Garak to talk to someone like Bashir? Someone who finds him fascinating and awesome, even if mostly because of how different he is to humans, and a little less because of who he actually is? When all Garak knows is suspicion from most of his fellow Cardassians, and outright hatred from Bajorans.
See, I can relate to that. Because I get so little enthusiasm in regards to who I am. Pretty much the only affirmation I get is when I produce something (writing) or do favors for someone (like do stuff for my mom). I think the only one who seems to love me pretty much for no reason is my son.
So I relate to Garak in that way at least. (Not so much the genocide and intense patriotism, but still.) And it's a high. I'm not gonna mince words here, it IS a high. To sit across from someone who is literally hungry for you to tell them more. Who looks at you with stars in their eyes and a million questions. Even though you know it's not YOU they're excited about, exactly. It doesn't matter. It's still a high.
So bottom line. Anyone who tries to tell me that Garak would never be with Bashir because he's young/dumb/annoying or it's risky/out of character(snrrk)/seems stupid for someone as clever as him? Anyone who tries that with me has obviously never been aching for their next high. And Garak? Is an addict. It's canon. And this level of attention, no matter how problematic? Is just too damn tempting. This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/643061.h
The universe can stop kicking me in the nuts now, please.
This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/642451.h
But rather than give me HIS wishes, she started listing things she believed he needed. Like a lamp or a box for his toys. Shit they could more than easily buy with the ridiculous amount of money they get thrown after them for taking care of him. And I'm not talking about their pay, I'm talking about the fact that they almost get their full pay twice over JUST for "additional expenses".
The money issue is actually secondary, though, compared to her complete blankness when I asked what HE wanted. I know for a fact that they've been making Christmas lists at daycare, because foster dad told me. But foster mom hadn't even glanced at it. Hadn't cared.
I can't decide what I want to do more. Cut a bitch or cry.
This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/641874.h
Even from the very beginning it was a strange relationship. I had zero idea he was even into me until he was literally planning to come and see me. (From the UK to Denmark, so not just a train ride away or something.) But okay, I was super flattered and totally into him so we had a little talk where intentions were discussed, and he called me his girlfriend pretty much as soon as I was okay with it.
I was aware from the beginning that he had a very demanding job and that he was very young (12 years younger than me) and consequently might be in a different place in life. But even when it was all new and fresh I was already wondering why he was even with me, because he expressed no interest in me as a person. The sex was amazing, even long-distance, which was refreshing, but as for talking? None of that happened unless I initiated it, and even then his replies were always very short and did not invite further interaction.
I even asked him, twice, why he was with me. The first answer was "because you're the nicest person I've ever met" and the second was "because you're lovely." Which are nice things, sure, but not something that really screams "in love." He did claim I was "perfect" to a friend, but I sure didn't see much proof of that.
But okay, upon further prodding he did reveal that his luck in love had so far been awful, and that his previous girlfriend had been distant and almost ashamed of him. So I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone needs practice, and he was still young. He was also apparently willing to work for it, so that was good enough for me. And he also said he had some depressive days where he didn't feel like talking to anyone, and okay, that made sense.
So he came to see me, and despite having mentioned a desire to hold hands and such, he seemed weirdly hesitant when I went for it. But okay, practice.
He stayed with me for a long weekend, and even though he had several times expressed sadness that he had no one to cuddle up to at night, and that he definitely wouldn't mind me snoring, he did not sleep a single night in the double bed I'd put together specifically for his visit. He slept on the couch, curled up and cramped. We had plenty of sex, and while it was probably the best sex I've had in my life, as soon as it was over, he was gone. He spent all the time we were not having sex either on his phone or his tablet, stretched out on the couch.
Every single thing we did was on my initiative, and by the third night I was ready to cry. We had a talk, and I told him straight up that he needed to try and bridge the divide between us, because I was going bonkers. He again mentioned his ex girlfriend and her apparent dislike for touching of any kind, but he did spend the rest of the evening touching me a lot. He was also mostly drunk at the time, so I dunno. Whatever. For those few hours I was actually happy and felt like it was finally coming together. He said he loved me, and seemed panicked when I admitted I couldn't say it back yet. But only a few hours later I said it back to him anyway, because I really thought we'd solved whatever hangup he'd had, and that he would now show actual interest in me. He promised he'd try, and I proimised in return that I'd give him time.
I dropped him off at the airport the next day, and while there was once again some weirdness with the pda, I still figured he was easing into it after a bad experience.
Then came a week of almost complete silence. But we'd both had fairly busy weeks ahead of us, and I'd managed to give him my flu, so I'd expected it to a degree. He still contacted me for sex, but otherwise, nothing. I struggled with jealousy because he seemed to have no problem talking to a friend of mine on Twitter (one he had previously labeled "hot") and it finally hurt so much that I asked said friend to talk to him about it. To his credit he immediately talked to me, and we had a pretty painful conversation about how I felt like he only ever talked to me when he had needs (emotional or physical) and he gave the explanation that he suffered from crippling anxiety, and was terrified of disappointing me. When I asked if he'd gotten help he said he'd tried it, but it hadn't worked. That didn't sound promising, but I put it aside for later.
I expressed my need for contact from him, if nothing else just to show that he was working on it, and we agreed on an arrangement where he would talk to me every day, if only just an emoji, or to tell me he didn't feel like talking. In return I promised to give him more time. I even begged him to set a phone alert, so he wouldn't spiral into crippling despair if he failed to remember one day, and even though he was reluctant, he told me he'd set one.
A week after that he was back to only talking to me when I talked to him first (Except for once when he asked for sex, and I'm not counting that.), and the first day where I didn't speak to him once, he didn't contact me at all.
I was really hurt, because not only had he broken his promise, he had also also presumably lied to me. And that's a dealbreaker. I had told him this several times, so it's not like it was news.
When I told him I needed to break up he was not surprised. He expressed a desire for us to be friends, but seeing as he hadn't even managed to show enough interest that I would have even called him a friend if we hadn't been together, I didn't think that was a good idea, and I told him to get back to me if he ever spent some time working on his anxiety issues.
He didn't seem terribly upset, though, apart from a Twitter update later about how his day sucked. He didn't try and defend himself, he didn't try and work out another arrangement. He just said he "probably wasn't ready for a relationship", and that was it. In comparison he'd cried pretty hard when we had our talk a couple weeks prior, or at least he said he had. It was over text, so I dunno. It felt cold and like I was being thrown aside, even though I was the one breaking up with him. I'd been so worried about doing it, because I thought he'd be upset. Guess not. We lasted two months and one day.
So I'm left with the only conclusion that I was the "better than nothing" option. He had a need for sex and someone to worry about him. My needs never even entered the picture.
And that hurts more than anything else.
This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/641686.h
But anyway, if you wanna follow the diet, here is where to go. This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/641125.h
I've always wondered at the Americans and their meat-heavy breakfast foods (Here it's cereal and bread, MAYBE an egg, if we're feeling luxurious), but I totally get it now.
I don't know if it's my body screaming out for more protein, or my mind latching on to anything that feels filling, but I get it now. Holy shit do I get it.
Meat. Meeeeat. This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/640978.h
Because this has actually given me almost two months of free reign, so I'm gonna try and spend the time wisely. And since I can't talk to my doctor for another two and a half weeks about the gastric bypass thing, I've had a little think about what I can do myself in the mean time.
Seeing as you have to lose 8-10% of your body weight before the surgery can even happen, I thought I'd do a test. Because, the thing is, I've never actually been on a diet, as such. I've made life changes here and there, the biggest one when my ex-husband got diabetes, and we changed our diet to fit. Mostly. But that's another story.
The problem for me is that I've never gone into it with the goal of losing weight. Maybe for a week or two at low points during my teens, but they were always brief, and I never remember actually losing any weight at all. Probably because I never got on a scale much. I really never cared much about numbers, and I liked my body, in all its lardy glory. I still do, but now it's hurting me, so... needs must.
But the thing that worries me on a more immediate basis about this gastric bypass idea is whether I'll be able to lose the weight at all, seeing as I've never dieted before. So I'm on a diet now. Of sorts.
The goal is to lose weight, while being as good to my mental state as a possibly can. So I'm trying to emulate how I'll be living after the surgery if I get it. I'll be eating six times a day, meal sizes 2-4 ounces, probably, because that'll be all my stomach will be able to hold, then.
I can't mimic it exactly, first of all because you're forced to watch your water intake like a hawk to make sure you get enough in the smalls sips you can handle in between meals, and if I try that now I know I'll just never drink, and I have problems getting enough fluids as it is. So I'mputting no limit on drinking
But I'll still be eating what I always do, meaning I don't have to change any of my preferences, and thereby lessening my anxiety significantly. No forcing myself to eat stuff I don't like, or endure any nasty workout routines, or change every little thing about my eating habits All I need to do now (ideally) is just do intake control. Instead of two rolls for breakfast it's now a quarter of one. For second breakfast I might eat the other half or something else. (And how Hobbit is that? 6 meals a day. Wonderful!) And it's like that across the board. Everything I usually eat. Only, cut down to an amount no bigger than my fist, depending on the density of the food in question (as I learned when I overdid it on meat yesterday. Oops. Learning curve.).
So yeah. I'm on a diet. For the first time in my life. I've made it 2½ days so far.
Wish me luck! This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/640759.h
The shit I read about people doing before/after surgery... it's like they WANT complications. "My stomach hurts, I'm so scared!" I get that you're scared, friend, but maybe going fucking binge drinking a week out of surgery wasn't your brightest moment. Liquid diet does not mean "excuse to pickle yourself in alcohol".
And don't even get me started on the perfectly slim people who pay shady doctors to have it done, just to lose those last pesky ten pounds. I'm in awe of the stupidity.
I can barely even find mentions of health. It's all about how much they lost, down to the ounce, and I'm sitting here wanting to know if I can still take painkillers in pill form, or what happens if I get stomach flu, or if my meds will even still be absorbed, or how you cope with the dietary demands alongside other health issues. There was one lady on youtube who warned that the poop would be different, and YES, THANK YOU NICE LADY, these are the things I need to know in advance, please.
Finding what I need on this is soooo hard. Like, loose skin is gonna happen. Does it hurt when you run? I mean, does it pull at you as it moves? And what about anxiety? Do the changes in your body change your mental state? Do different things trigger your anxiety compared to before?
And I can't find a single word about autism in relation to gastric bypass, which makes me worry that it's a thing doctor's wouldn't recommend to someone with autism. (I don't really think so, it's more likely any patients with autism find documenting it too challenging.) And what about your kids? They're bound to ask questions. What do you say? What if you miss a few meals? There's a lot of info about "dumping" that happens when you eat too much or the wrong things, but nothing about the effects of missing meals.
And I only found a single mention of taking precautions in the event of death during surgery. It's like people are deliberately ignoring the possiblity. Just because the risk is low, it doesn't mean it isn't there. This entry was originally posted at http://ladydrace.dreamwidth.org/640262.h