Clear Sky, 31°C

Conestoga Township, PA, USA

I I just blew up on Facebook. To everyone. Intentionally.

Quote of the day
Not directly related to any one but to all

I suppose that I just gave you an out. Need to stop giving people the answers to my questions so that they then answer comfortably instead of honestly.
-Ari Callum Quinlan (PJB).

I’m tired of just being there because I’m convenient or our of obligation. I’m tired of not existing until something that I know is needed. I’m SICK and tired of only hearing about my "bad" or as I’d prefer say "uncomfortable" traits. Truth is uncomfortable and even painful, but it is ultimately freeing. However the caveat is that, regardless of the necessity of truth to be exposed, there will always be a penalty incurred by you from the recipient of said "truth." Don’t expect to be honest and not get backlash. If you think you can or are entitled to be a truthsayer and feel like you’re immune to any reporcussions to yourself? Then I recommend seeing a therapist who specializes in Narcissistic Personalities. Because feeling entitled to do anything you want, without reprisal, and further that your way is the only way, you might be a narcissist. I’d be surprised if anyone who reads this does not have some sort of mental illness. If you don’t, you’re in fucking denial, also might be a narcissist, or just continuing to perpetrate the irrational stigma against mental illness.

I AM DISABLED! I don’t give a fuck how much you refuse to accept that or try to reason it away or shame me in saying that I’m on too much drugs for my age or worst is that I shouldn’t have all those problems at my age.

You can either make an effort to talk to me about it, better read about it, or fuck off because obviously you don’t care enough for you to have any consern over me. One can never understand something until one understands something.

If you’re going to in any way down play my illness, as my mom always said "stop making mountains out of molehills" She’s correct in the right situation, but those weren’t them. This is also not meant as an indictment against my parents, siblings, childhood, or any family. But this is also not venting. Which to me is letting out what’s upsetting you but ultimately it’s ignored.

I’m disgusted by people who are offended or insulted because I am more intelligent than they are. You tell me, "I don’t understand, and leave it at they." They why the fuck bother. Have you ever thought that, well since Phil’s written it and felt a need to share it with me that maybe he can explain it. And what fucking pisses me off is those of you who don’t even think "maybe I could learn something or maybe he wants me to learn something" and follow that up with some semblance of an effort to educate yourselves. But you all have lives to live that I’m not even a Kuiper Belt object in. And obviously you’d all rather live in your blissful ignorance that nothing is ever wrong and anything that is will blow over.

Here’s a rude awakening. I was born with a rewired brain because of the Bipolar disorder. If you actually care, which I strongly doubt, the specific disorders I have are as follows: Bipolar type 2 AKA Bipolar Depression, Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Panic disorder, chronic insomnia, sinus tachycardia, familial hyperlibidemia, status post splenectomy, Severe GERD, and that’s pretty much the most important ones. And yes ALL of these corresponding medications ARE LIFE SUSTAINING!! Without them I truly wouldn’t be able to function in ANY constructive way in society. That should make you Elephant Asses happy, they make me able to contribute to society, we just don’t have to pay them as well, if at all.

And before I hear any bullshit, and that’s exactly what it is. I don’t want to hear/read that we all go through this. Bull shit you do. Have you once tried living and filling my shoes? I can say that none have you asked me so why should I believe that you have in your head. All I ever hear is judgements, things that I could have done better, things that I shouldn’t have done. Shove it. If I’m enraged enough to be quiet then the absolute LAST thing you want to do is to point out my faults. For better or for worse. The road to Hell was paved with good intentions. Your intentions don’t matter, your actions do. A very Catholic sentiment considering it was taught to me by a Satanist. Your words feel good in the temporary, but when they’re later followed by NO action, then your words are superfluous. If you love me, then love me, and be fucking open with it. More than words. All of your words once helped but now they’ve just caused me to grow more bitter and apathetic. No action no proof. I’m not giving any of you the answers to give you an easy out. It’s up to you to determine what you want me in your life for. Because right now it doesn’t seem promising. And "it goes both ways" or "you can always call me" are also excuses in my mind. Because that says to me that I’m never on your mind enough to call or that I’m not important enough for even a thought let alone a call.

Also, I don’t want to hear, at all, that this isn’t the place or that it’s too public. First of all, I’ve been telling you all that since before Facebook. So don’t try that bullshit on me again. And as for this not being the place……… DOESN’T THAT MEAN THAT YOU’RE THE EMBARRASSED ONE! That’s on you. I’ve tried to care and I’ve listend and counseled most of you without judgement or reprise. But when I want to talk about me… Hell hath no fury. Because how dare I make it all about me. FUCK YOU have you ever considered that that’s my way of relating to you (the only way possible) or that the issue isn’t one sided? Or maybe that mine aren’t quite as petty. I’m done being nice by the way.

There’s a strong chance that I’m more intelligent than 90% of you and that’s me being gracious, number is probably higher. And while I might be respected for it, I never hear it. As far as I’m concerned all I ever hear is how my traits or actions are bad or wrong or harmful. But the amount of compliments I’ve gotten about myself pales in comparison. Maybe a ratio on 1:9999. Exaggerated of course, but makes the point. If you have "constructive" criticism then make it but be mindful of how you say it. As both of my parents always said "It’s not what you say it’s how you say it." Wiser words were seldom spoken.

So right now. I don’t give a fuck how you feel because I’m not talking about you. Forcing me to consider how you feel, in this instance, is akin to you making it all about you. How does that feel? I’m not an uncaring individual, for those who have made the effort to know me, at least in part, might (not even going to bother with should) realize that this is extremely out of character and that I’m actually a very compassionate and empathic person. Consider that as something you might lose forever, or at least until you realize that your universe doesn’t revolve around yourself.

And don’t ask what happened because this is shit that’s been in my brain since I can remember. My intelligence intimidates or makes people hate or judge me. Being Gay (an intrauterine genetic mutation) frightens people, makes them hate me, shun me, uncomfortable around me, ignorant, or just plain want to kill me. And that’s not considering the ignorance in the medical field, about LGBTIQ health issues, or many other things (an occupation that should be ruled by science and not anecdote). Oh, and being Neo-Pagans, that has been universally ignored by everyone of blood relation with only two exceptions (three more recently) Mi Nonna, who while didn’t fully understand, was still willing to try and had discourse on, Michelle Bialor who is the only one that I know of to have taken the initiative to actually do some reading on my faith. More recently Greg Bialor and I spoke somewhat about it.

News Flash: Sex, Politics, and Religion are all bullshit taboos and all three are taboos that I ENCOURAGE to be spoken about. Don’t you dare impose your will on mine without being willing to compromise.

I think I’m done.

Let’s see who reads it… "likes" it…. Comments… or Private messages me. (ranked in ascending by weight.)

One last point. This is NOT an indictment on ME. It’s an indictment on every one of you. I don’t disclaim my mistakes. But this is about yours. Not mine. And if I lose people who can’t handle being it given back…. well consequences.

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Overcast Clouds, 70°F

Pequea Township, PA, USA

Neither do I, handle lies. But no one has told me what happened that day. No one even offered. As much as they say that they’re scared for me, I still think they’re scared of me, for me for how I could harm myself. But just like I said that day, guilt. Maybe it’s my severe mistrust. You lost it when you went back to Chris after Harrisburg, you’re regaining it. Becci, unintentionally, abandoned me and she’s been far more intolerant of me than she used to be. And I’m still getting to know Joe. He welcomes me in in one breath and violently pushes me away in the next. I know that they have to walk on eggshells for fear that I’ll blow up. I’m a ticking time bomb. But at the same time I’m walking on eggshells, exactly like my childhood, they don’t realize, or care, or simply can’t handle that they, unintentionally triggered 3 weeks ago by making me relive that trauma, that you witnessed first hand. To them I’m just making it all about myself. But I wasn’t in so much pain before then. It also doesn’t help that rather than being kinder, they’ve become more hostile, to me, in my perception, I’m willing to admit that it might be a delusion, but at least with some basis in fact. Please don’t share this. Other than Heidi Morgan or Kristen Clark (married now), you’re the only one who really understands the real consequences of what happened. I’m going to share this with Stehman as well.

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Light Rain, 61°F

Conestoga Township, PA, USA

I know you’ll get to me when you can. That’s the hardest part, trusting that people will actually keep in touch. I don’t fear that from you. I don’t fear that from Harley. I agree with your assessment that I need to build individual relationships. But my fear is that the importance of that won’t be mutual. Plus, what is going on in the group that I can’t know about. How much am I missing? What decisions am I being excluded from? I’m trying to stay well, but I have these fears. They are trust issues. It’s not that I lack trust in most of you, per se, but I lack trust that anyone will speak for me. I can accept being excluded from the group as long as I have a voice, someone who is thinking of me. It’s ironic that you mentioned me staying out of the group (hurt a lot) but I expected that reaction (even though I feared it). I was asking Stehman in the hospital if he’d ask, by vote, if any of you wanted me back. Now my question is whether I’m being recommended to stay away for my own protection, for the members’ protection, both, or simple banishment. You, Stehman, Mel have all individually and independently said that I haven’t destroyed anything, that you all still love me. I don’t doubt that. But I’ve never been good with exclusion, one of my triggers. I want to trust that Stehman would be my voice, but I don’t, since he’s mostly non-participatory. I could ask you, but that could conflict with your other loyalties. So, you see. This is all my fears come to life. Again, I like the idea of building relationships independently. It solves the competitiveness that I can’t seem to help having, and the jealousy. But at the same time, I feel like everyone, in the group, is having fun, getting closer, making plans (even those that may effect me), and so on. Without me. And if I am ever welcomed back, that’s just the farther down in the pecking order that I’m in. It all goes back to importance. Stehman doesn’t understand love so is currently incapable of showing me importance, though he deserves credit for trying. Becci will always put her kids first, completely understandable and genetically hard wired, but after that who’s next? Me, her twin, from a life more important to me than to her? Or her "wifey" Mel, or her new found "hubby" Joe. With Mel, she has Joe, and her kids, and not much else, maybe also Becci, probably. Joe has himself, his kids, Mel, then Becci. No room there. Harley is currently an unknown, I certainly feel a bond and common interests with her, but someone else will just nullify my bond with her. Just like the above. I should be happy that they’re all getting along, and more that I brought them together. But that happiness and pride of accomplishment has withered to emptiness, loneliness and abandonment. My purpose has been fulfilled, I’m all used up. Now my presence is just an annoyance at best, and downright enraging at worst. I’ve considered just leaving, extricating myself from the situation, but then I’m told that I’d be missed, that I am loved, I am wanted, I do have purpose. So what is it? Am I used or am I wanted? I keep feeling like I’m getting mixed messages. And either way, I’m wrong. I’m even wrong for questioning. I’m even wrong when I’m right. And worst of all, I’m not ready. Doesn’t anyone else question to understand? How is that showing a lack of readiness? Is it possible that it might need to be put into pertinent terms rather than the terms that the author feels is best? So far, as I know, Becci is the only one who never gave up on me. Even when I had trouble accepting the "truth" that I wasn’t previously ready to accept. She kept asking, periodically, changing the phrasing, changing the reference. But she never gave up on me. I don’t know what more to say other than to present this to those that ARE READY. And to point out that some simply aren’t ready to hear my truth. I can’t always be the one who’s wrong. I can’t always be the petulant child. Not because I refuse, but because I do know things that they don’t. I do have knowledge that THEY’RE NOT READY FOR. I wonder how they’ll feel when the shoe is on the other foot? It doesn’t feel good when you’re proven to be a hypocrite, and worse when you’re presented with irrefutable evidence that puts your own accountability in question. The Feather of Ma’at judges all, Pharaoh and Commoner alike. Those who fail are cursed to have their souls devoured.

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Broken Clouds, 70°F

Home Actual, Stehman-Schenck Farmstead, Conestoga Township, Lancaster, PA, US

Speaking to Donna on Facebook Messenger:

I’ve just been thinking that Stehman’s parents don’t personally like me. And especially since Phil (Stehman’s brother, the younger of the two) has gotten married. Yet originally, Nikki was awesome and really did a lot to bring the whole family back together. She’s the reason why I felt comfortable referring to Stehman’s parents as Mom and Dad. They always seem to respond better to it when I refer you them like that. But ever since Charlottesville and the fucking blow up that happened with Phil, Nikki and her best friend Karl, which was for the most part 3:1. I just feel more distant. I probably just need to talk to Nikki in private. I’ve always felt closer to her and to a lesser extent, Mom. Even though I asked Nikki if we were OK, her and I. And she said we were OK. But just something about how she wrote it made me doubt her words. But the four of them are doing stuff together. And that in itself doesn’t bother me, but the blatant favoritism (even if it is unintended) really angers me, and hurts, and makes me extremely jealous. But the anger isn’t about how I feel, it’s proxy for my defense of Stehman. He doesn’t even notice. There is so much about his family that I just don’t understand, that is just so alien and anathema to me and my family, or even to my upbringing. And so many assumptions. Too little effort. Too little communication. Part of the reason why Nikki has been such an awesome addition. And it hasn’t been for a lack of some effort on my part. I’ve asked and asked if they want help doing something or another and either they’re already done or say that they don’t need help. I always then ask that if they need help to ask me and that if it was something specific to just grab me. I’ve asked mom multiple times if she could teach me canning and she’s so far done a few projects but never a word to me. And I asked dad, maybe a year or two after I moved in, if he would teach me to use a gun. He looked at me suspiciously and asked why. My only response was that I’ve always wanted to learn. That wasn’t good even. Though after Sandy Hook, I told both mon and dad that due to my mental illness I am voluntarily avoiding any firearms. I told dad that I don’t want to know where any of his guns are and if he could keep them locked up. He said that he wouldn’t tell me anyway… (added later outside the conversation) But this is an issue I’ve had time and time again. People having expectations of me but never telling me what they are or how they want is, assuming that their way is the only possible way to do things and every other way is wrong. And in addition to said expectations, it’s expected that if a project needs done that I should just immediately drop everything and contribute, but that’s not how my mind works. If someone is doing a project then I don’t want to interfere with their project unless they ask me for help, which never happens. It’s just expected to jump right in, that I should know when and that the help is needed. And the phrase that sums it all up is, "I shouldn’t have to ask!" My response, in my head is that that assumption, and it is an assumption, isn’t how everyone functions and to believe so is simply selfish and narrow-minded. Of course I can never say this because it would either jeopardize my livelihood or my housing. So my anger, worry, panic, paranoia grows. While their mind becomes set that I am a certain way that has no, or little, truth to how and who I am. And rather than communicate or question or think that maybe all people don’t think the same, regardless of how many do. They set this misconception in stone and their resentment fester and grows all based upon a one dimensional assumption and misconception. The whole person is judged by a single negative act that may have a perfectly reasonable cause.

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Few Clouds, 86°F

100-186 Brinkley Dr, Sellersville, PA 18960, USA

A message to my Dom, never sent:

I feel this way whenever I’m around my family. Insignificant, non existent, not worth any effort. Living almost 100 miles away doesn’t help, but again no effort made. I recognize that most of this is in my head. But no understanding of the difficulties I face just being around anyone because of my messed up head. No visible effort made to show understanding or even sympathy, just that I’m doing it to myself (I know I am) and that I just shouldn’t do it. That I should just get over it and that I bring it upon myself, that it’s just my fault. And no recognition of their contribution to it, or taking it as an offense if or when I try to bring it up. Even though I do forgive them, but also can’t just ignore it or move on, mainly because any time I feel some way, that is abnormal, I’m reminded of why I have these abnormal thoughts and feelings and what contributed to my very warped mind. I don’t know why I feel like I should share this with you or even if I should. But earlier you commented that I’ve never been able to get it all out. You’re right, I never have been. All my life I’ve been suppressed, that how I feel or what I think is wrong so therefore it isn’t valid. That I’m devalued. That my feelings, thoughts, opinions are not worth anything. Any time I do try to get it all out, so to say, I’m told to stop crying about it and to move on. So, I tell you this because this is why I apologize for everything, even things done by others that I had no part of. And this is why it’s so easy to be submissive and minimized and objectified, because I always have been forced into that role. Except from my closest friends, whom I consider my true family, because they are the ones who treat me like family and actually consider me as valuable. But a lot of that is also my perception and I also acknowledge that. Problem is how do I stop this blatant misperception and start to develop resilience and self-assuredness?


I meant to write this sooner, but I have begun to feel marginally closer to my siblings. Maybe I feel at a disadvantage because they know me better than I expected but I feel that I don’t totally know them. But mom has helped me learn more about the distance I get from them. Because they defended me and kept me isolated from all the homophobia, that should have been directed to me, they intercepted. But I never knew, and yet still they resent me for it. I’m at a loss. While I’m extremely grateful and want to cry out of happiness, because it is evidence that they love me and care about me. But at the same time, how right is it to be resented for something that I not only didn’t request but also had no knowledge of. Yet talking about the past, especially in terms of me, is all but forbidden. Which is anathema to me individually. I want to solve problems and to communicate, not to bury them and become diseased from the resentment. Plus, again, do I really deserve that vitriol, is this something that they have a right to hold against me when I had absolutely no knowledge of. I was completely oblivious until I was told, out of anger, years later. Everything seems stacked against me.

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Scattered Clouds, 88°F

Home Actual, Stehman-Schenck Farmstead, Conestoga Township, Lancaster, PA, US

So I’ve been depressed today, on Father’s Day. Which makes me feel worse because I am also castigating myself for, in my mind, taking the focus away from Stehman’s and my Fathers. So here is a direct quote of a conversation with an innermost friend explaining "what was wrong" with today:

"Father’s day, which isn’t a huge issue on my family’s side, per se, just that my dad is so far away (he’s currently living in Florence, SC). But more an issue with Stehman’s family. I keep feeling that his dad really doesn’t like me. And that I’m really just a proxy for Stehman, so it’s not really me that’s wanted around, I’m just tolerated because I represent Stehman.

It’s also difficult when Stehman doesn’t really have a relationship with any of his family. At least not that I can see. I mean, I’m there when they ask where Stehman is and I can explain why he disappeared. But no one is there to do the same for me. To speak for me like I do for Stehman.

And I get kinda jealous also, because I know that Stehman’s brother and his wife have way more in common with Stehman’s parents than we do. But they also don’t do a lot to include us either.

Even for the wedding, I was really just an afterthought. I know that some of what I’m feeling is the BPD, and I try to be conscious of the fact that I’m making things personal that aren’t. But on the other hand, I also can’t believe that all of my perceptions are wrong.

I always felt that Phil (Stehman’s brother) was always favored by his parents over Stehman. Some of that probably is shared interest. But again, I ask, how much effort have his parents made to include Stehman (and by extension, me). I know that if I said something to them about their not making an effort, they’d probably say that they would figure that if he (or I) were interested, then he would have shown an interest.

Also, this perceived favoritism, I know, is more of a concern to me than to Stehman. But I don’t know if that is just that Stehman hasn’t, or isn’t able to, process it; or if it truly isn’t a concern for him.

And on the issue of Stehman speaking for me, as well as him being present with his family and including me rather than me being a proxy. He said that he just doesn’t have the energy to process and understand any of it.

Oh, and I forgot, the whole trigger is that Stehman’s dad unfriended me on Facebook, which I was reminded of when I went to tag him (and my dad) on a happy father’s day post."

Sorry for the direct stream of thought.

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Fog, 64°F

Home Actual, Stehman-Schenck Farmstead, Conestoga Township, Lancaster, PA, US

I’m Gay, and I was cut as an infant. My partner was left intact. We’ve not been intimate for a few years, but for other reasons. I also have that inferiority when I see an intact man. I feel like I obsess about it or that’s how I’m treated. I’ve never really found anyone who is supportive of how I feel. My partner says that he doesn’t understand what the big deal is for me. Luckily he said that he would never get cut. I used to panic any time he went to the doctor because I was afraid that they might con him into getting cut. When I tell him that he should be proud of being intact, he just said that it is what it is. Everywhere I express how I feel, how much mental anguish I have. It’s like having PTSD without remembering the exact event. Additionally, I recently found out that I have Borderline Personality Disorder, which is caused by an Attachment Trauma. I firmly feel that the first attachment trauma that I had was being cut. Luckily, my French-Canadian therapist agreed. But it’s this awful self hatred and loathing, and I am restoring, but to me, it doesn’t take away the pain, it just reminds me of how flawed I now am. But normally, anyone I mention my feelings to either minimizes it or Gaslights me (makes it that I’m the one who’s wrong), which just deepens my self-loathing and also makes me feel more isolated. I truly hate being American, if only for this one reason. I’m sorry guys if my post is a real downer, but for me, it’s the truth.

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