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3:41 AM 5/27/2010
TMI: So the inside of my nostrils gets dried out sometimes, in a kind of awful-feeling way. The usual solution to this involves the current tube of Burt's Bees lip balm, scraping a bit off the top with the cap, and applying it to the inside of my nose, so it feels less gross and more like I might be able to breathe through it properly.

11:15 AM 5/27/2010
Brain now playing "Daydream Believer". What is this I don't even? Not that I mind. Also, cherries! And rain!

11:22 AM 5/27/2010
Oh. Dear. It's. Uh. So I'm reading fic that involves a guy barely clinging to the last vestiges of sanity, with PTSD and having weird gaps of separation-from-self ... and the thing where he's out in public and there's a crowd and he's having time-lapse and robotic responses and everything around him goes completely surreal and he just can't cope? That ... actually sounds like quite a few moments from the early 2000's, for me. Except I was in less danger of snapping and getting violent, and more in danger of snapping and just falling over or screaming. That's ... disquieting. I'm very, incredibly, amazingly glad that iroshi was able to assist so much with the rewiring of my brain. And there are still sometimes moments, even with that, that I can't face People.

And that reminds me that I need to do the logic table for ill-intent, ill-effect, and trust, because my brain blipped that one up to me as I was trying to get to sleep. It turns out that I have to do two tables, because things are different when in sane mode than when in not-sane, survival mode.
Daniel feels every single motion, no matter how tiny, as a blow across his back, his shoulders. The exciting thing about certain forms of hypervigilant states, JD had said, just this morning, in the process of telling Daniel that he was going to have an escort back to Colorado Springs, is that the first thing to go is your judgment. It's not like panic. You can think through panic. This? You think that what you're doing is the most reasonable thing in the world. People get hurt. Not because you can't tell what a threat is. Because everything's a threat, and you've learned how to react to threats.


Many intents are aimed at classes of which I am part, rather than me specifically. And there are a few possible responses: you're-one-of-THEM; oh-you're-one-of-the-GOOD-ones; I-except-you-because; and oh-huh-must-revise-my-brain.

Ill-intent: means to do me harm. (Known quantity.)
Mixed intent: means to cause various things, which may include harmful, neutral, good. (Most common.)
Unknown intent: I haven't assessed their intent towards me.
(Neutral intent: means to leave me unaffected. Usually classed with good. Known quantity.)
Good intent: means to benefit me. (Known quantity.)

Ill-effect: Causes harm to me. (Known quantity.)
Mixed effect: a combination of effects, which may include harmful, neutral, no effect, and good. (Most common.)
Unknown effect: I haven't assessed their effect on me.
(Neutral effect: leaves me unaffected. Known quantity.)
Good effect: Protects me or causes beneficial change. (Known quantity.)

And the thing is, there are two tables: one for when I'm sane, and one for when I'm not. Usually I have warning before I switch tables. Sometimes I don't. If I'm not sane and I tell you I'm not sane and I tell you to get the hell away from me? If you don't? At that point, it's no longer me, it's you. It no longer matters that this is a boundary that no sane person would set, and that it's not a normal boundary for friends, it's still a boundary, and crossing it is bad news for everyone. Telling me "You can trust me", when my brain's gone glitching-alpha, I'm enormously suggestible, and I don't actually trust you? That's attempted tampering with my trust, and I'll never trust anyone who does that. ("I mean you no harm and I'd like if you trusted me" is much safer; there's no imperative in there for a glitching brain to hold on.)

Precious few people who get a safeword instead of a boundary.

The helpful table.

3:57 AM 5/28/2010
That was helpful. So first I was up way late, with too little time for a proper night's sleep, but woke up in time for the farmers' market. (Peas, cherries, strawberries, pastry.) Then I crashed out for a nap late in the afternoon, then I woke up, then I was slow enough to boot that I was dubious about leaving, then I sort of just fell on my face asleep. Now it's almost 4am, and I'm awake; clearly I needed sleep or I wouldn't have been crashed for about six hours.

4:05 AM 5/28/2010
Dear Trillian,
Like Zilch, you are a focus-stealing application. Unlike Zilch, you're doing this when you're starting up and joining all the IRC channels, rather than just as a matter of course because hi, shiny game being played.
Argh,
Miss Lunatic

12:49 AM 5/30/2010
Friday involved sleep and then a shopping run. Saturday involved not enough sleep, The Demon's Covenant, not enough sleep, emergency sleep, coming in late to chat due to sleep, crashing out early from chat to go to sleep, and waking up at a weird hour. Sunday is going to involve some frantic attempts to reset the sleep schedule.

Also, I want popcorn. (I have corn and a popper, just low motivation.)

Chat does not kill my browser as horribly badly as I thought it would, but it still lags.

1:04 AM 5/30/2010
Hey Zuckerberg, you have cause and effect backwards. Probably from where you're sitting, the number one use of dual identity is trolling, so it would make sense to draw your conclusion from that evidence if one didn't bother to search for other reasons someone might use dual identities. However. From where I'm sitting, I see a number of uses of dual identity. I would argue that the problem is people with a lack of integrity using dual identities. I don't think there's a technological or even magic cure to the problem of people with a lack of integrity.

Crossposted. comment count unavailable comments.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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