My pain is not polished.

This post was written in October, 2016 – when I was positive we’d have Madam President right now and the “Grab em by the Pussy” tape had just leaked. On this day of protests, strikes, backlash, dudes being absurd man babies because something isn’t about them, and that this horrible monster is president, I’m reposting the piece in full, but you can see the orginal Medium post here.

No, I am not done yet. Nowhere near done.

I am going to continue to dump my intense fury, very raw pain and oh my stars y’all. The disillusionment. I *knew* that sexism would crawl out from under rocks like racism did with President Obama, I’ve been steeling myself for it. Assumed that as I interact with MRAs I’d be ahead of the curve.

I did not see being gaslighted by a large portion of my government, elected officials, writers I once respected, the nominee of the Republican party. I do not use the term gaslighting lightly either. (Few people I know do, but I know I’m facing the trope of the liberal feminist killjoy.) Since Friday I have been yelling at my screens, tweeting at people pleading to stop using victim blaming framing… Read More

Over your shit.

MTV’s True Life is looking for someone on an #OrgasmQuest

cropped-shevibesticker.pngI’ve been in touch with the casting director for MTV’s award-winning docu-series “True Life.” They are searching for people for a new episode who cannot achieve orgasm, perhaps due to a medical disorder, either physical, mental, emotional, etc. In short, someone at the start of their own #OrgasmQuest who is willing to share their story with True Life.

Since Quest went viral I’ve had a few TV shows contact me about my story, this is one of the few times I’m being involved because they are handling the subject with the seriousness and respect it deserves. That 18 months later Quest is still on people’s minds even though I’ve been quiet says volumes about how badly people want to have these conversations. I’d be doing this myself, but I’ve made it mostly through my quest and they are looking for someone who is starting theirs. I’m excited.

Could be a young parent who has lost orgasm after birth due to sensation changes or pelvic floor issues, does not have to be someone who is suffering anorgasmia via side effect, all reasons welcome!

Here is the public release: “On this episode of “True Life” we’ll meet a few people (men or women) whose orgasms have impacted their lives in one way or another. Do you have trouble achieving orgasm with or without a sexual partner? Do you have a physical or psychological reason that the “Big O” has become an exhausting topic of conversation? If so, we’d like to talk to you.”

If you are 18 and older, and need to get your orgasms under control, please send an email to crista@gmail.com and we can take it from there.

Also, please share this with anyone you think fits the description or to your own social networks. There is a deadline on this at the end of the week, so reach out to me asap!

Thank you loves, as I go I will add that my quiet is about to come to an end *again* and posting shall return, for I miss interacting with everyone.

xoh

Crista Anne

Twitter Really Cares About My Reaction To Scalia’s Death

Supreme Court Justice Scalia died today, I’m not ashamed that this is thrilling, and right-wing twitter really does not like me.

Which is fine, the feeling is quite mutual.

Overall, I do not wish death upon people. I do not celebrate death. There are a few exceptions to this rule, and Antonin Scalia is one of them. Actually, I am not thrilled that he is dead, I am thrilled that he no longer wields great power. Great power used to harm, restrict rights and promote horrific bigotry. As being on the Supreme Court is a lifetime job, that means retirement or death. He died in his sleep and I am glad he is gone. Thus, I tweeted.

Read through the responses at your own risk. I rarely feed the trolls, but today I’m still mostly on bed rest and have a fair amount of anger that needed an outlet. None of that bullshit got to me, I was laughing most of the time.

Here is the deal: I’m a queer, poly, liberal, woman who has needed and received abortive care. Scalia was on the bench since I was four years old, a consistently disgusting monster who through his writings made it clear that he loathed who and what I am. Viewed me as a second class citizen at best. A monster with extreme power. Now he is gone and as hard as right-wing twitter has tried, you cannot and will not shame me into feeling sadness.

I feel empathy for those who loved him. For his wife and children. Look, my Dad died eleven years ago. My Dad, who I love and miss, was kind of a shitbag. There are plenty of people who are glad he’s dead and I do not begrudge them that. I’ve harmed people in my life and I’m sure they will be happy when I die. Lots of people told me about how thrilled they will be today alone! Rock on. I’ll be dead and thus will not care how the fuck people react.

“Don’t speak ill of the dead”

NOPE. Nope. Nope. Nope.

I want nothing to do with the making of the mythology of this person. Towards the end of his life/career, he seemed to slide completely into professional troll. Professional trolls are bad enough on their own, professional trolls on the fucking supreme court? I’ve read more than enough of his opinions to feel his loathing for people like me, people like my family, people who are my friends and loves. Plenty of words are being written on his record and life, that’s not what I’m doing here.

What I’m doing here is saying that right now his dead body in Texas has more rights than those of a pregnant person in that state. Abortion rights are about to hit the Supreme Court and I am crying tears of joy that he will not be on the bench for that. Shamelessly.

A whole mess of folks have named me the face and the voice of liberalism on twitter today, so I shall inform you all that as your Queen and Liberal Ruler, you may address me as Her Royal Pinkness. Beware the tyranny of my oppressive socialism and rainbows. The Tyranny of Glitter Everywhere.

Behold - Her Royal Pinkness

Behold – Her Royal Pinkness – Your Liberal Queen

Obviously, I speak for myself and myself alone. 

I choose to have fun with folks who were calling me the face of liberalism when it suited them. I’m a white cis woman, my voice should not be the loudest any longer. Hopefully my sarcasm here was noted by those whose opinions I care about.

Now, back to the amusement on twitter…

shevibestickerYou don’t like what I have to say? Don’t like that I dare speak ill of the dead? 

Don’t fucking read my words then.

I’m not for everyone, that’s fine. I’ve no interest in being palatable to everyone. Feel free to continue to tell me how horrible I am. The fucks I give continue to stay at zero and the moment that I get bored, I’ll go back to ignoring the trolls. For now though? Thanks for the amusement. Thanks for the hate views to my site. Thanks for keeping me distracted from the pain I’ve been in recently. I actually do appreciate that.

Hello and welcome to the new folks who RT’d me for positive reasons. Hopefully the rest of what I have to say resonates as well. If not, I wish you well. 

Scalia. Was. Toxic.

Thanks to @femsplain for this graphic

Thanks to @femsplain for this graphic

Finally: If you were one of the way too many people who took the time to fill my mentions with hatred, slurs, threats and other bullshit – expect an invoice from me in the near future. See, my time has monetary value and all of you are proud capitalists so I expect you to understand this. Reading your intrusive tweet is $5, Abusive tweets are $10 and Threats or Slurs will cost you $20. 

-Anne Lamott

-Anne Lamott

Life in Less Limbo

Y’all, it has been a week.

I’ve updated here and there as things have progressed, but it’s nice to put it all together so I can link instead of re-telling the story. As I said in my Surviving Life in Limbo… post, I’ve had a lot of concerning health issues pop up suddenly. Upside, they are rearing their ugly heads just as I finally have comprehensive health insurance. Bless my glorious marriage. Finally, I have progress and an update:

NO CANCER!!!

YAY!! CT Scan showed that my bladder is really unhappy but no signs of cancer. That and other tests have ruled cancer out. Que thrilled excitement.

 

Got this glorious news, made a bad-fucking-ass pot roast, and finally relaxed for a few hours. Watched MSNBC to hear my fantasy girlfriend Rachel Maddow talk about how Bernie Sanders won New Hampshire, and at commercial break, made the mistake of trying to pee.

Que mindbending pain. Acute, astonishing, stabbing, horrific pain shooting through my pelvis. On the only pain scale I consider to be legitimate, I was in “I am actively being mauled by a bear” that was living in my bladder.

This is the only pain chart that I consider to be legit. Thank you Hyperbole and a Half

This is the only pain chart that I consider to be legit. Thank you Hyperbole and a Half

Laid face down on our bed, one eye watching The Donald give a victory speech, which was not helping my pain levels at all, for most of the rest of the evening while fearing emptying my bladder ever again. Rachel Maddow kept making me laugh, which would also cause a pain spike. My emergency painkiller wasn’t doing anything and by morning I was looking for childcare so we could get me to the ER. I was biting and yelling into a towel, fearing any liquid. Okay, great, no cancer, but I feel like I’m dying. Thankfully, my Doctor found space to see me, because I loathe the ER. Would rather remove body parts in my bathroom than go through that bullshit.

I do not cry in public. It’s a thing. Have trouble letting my guard down enough to cry most of the time. I cried the whole way through the visit. No infection, nothing glaring on my CT scan, the best educated guess is Interstitial cystitis. That needs to be verified by a urologist, who I’ll be seeing asap. Interestingly, one of the treatments for interstitial cystitis is amitriptyline. The cause of my anorgasmia, #OrgasmQuest and a medication I stopped talking six weeks ago in favor of other medications that were previously beyond my financial means.

So, I’m back on amitriptyline. Last year when Quest started, this was the wonder drug for my depression, but as The Madness overtook our life and I hit one of the worst depressive episodes of my life, it stopped helping. Wellbutrin has been a better match for my depressive symptoms, with the added bonus of the return of my sex drive. When I get out of the acute pain, it will be interesting to see how both of those medications affect my sexuality. #OrgasmQuest is certainly not over.

First, I have to get out of this acute pain. I’m on mostly bed rest with pain management medication for the next few days. Friends and family are helping out and V has been amazing. I’ve spent most of the last two weeks curled around him in either pain or worry. They’ve been perfection in soothing my fears and taking care of my needs. I’m more comfortable in the caretaker role, much less as the patient, but they are keeping me from doing too much.

Meh

Really sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Progress though. At least it isn’t cancer, “just” probably another chronic pain condition that has no cure or great treatment plan. Yaaaayyyyy. *eye roll* So, that’s where I am. My body says I need to lie back down and pay more attention to the Democratic debate.

Thank you for all the love and good wishes. They mean the world to me. <3

Ahem, @buzzfeed? A quick note about antidepressants…

Buzzfeed has an article that is making the rounds, 16 Things No One Tells You About Taking Antidepressants.

Yay! Awesome! I am honestly thrilled to see more conversation that normalizes and de-stigmatizes taking antidepressants if needed. The piece has a lot of good information that’s shared in a positive and reassuring way. Again, awesome. Thank you.

That being said, let’s chat about “#5. Yes, they might affect your sex drive.”

I do enjoy this graphic

Antidepressants often have sexual side effects..

 No one tells you that sexual side effects can occur while on antidepressants?

*ahem*

If I could please direct you just over a few clicks to your Trashy” Feed. There, I linked it so it’s nice and easy. Scroll down a little over halfway down that page and note “This Woman Is Live-Tweeting Her Struggle To Orgasm On Anti-Depressants.”

Hi! That’s me.

Baby Crista!!

Selfie from right after I posted the first #OrgasmQuest post

A year later, still chillin on the “trashy” feed. Talking about how antidepressants can affect your sex life and ability to orgasm. Talking about how important it can be to prioritize your sex life/sexuality through depression if you are a sexual person. Talking about all the media attention I was getting and the bullshit I was dealing with because I deeply believe my message is vital.

Let me put this out there: Maybe. Just maybe, more people would be talking about the fact that medications can screw up your sex drive and orgasmic ability if they weren’t shamed or mocked for doing it.

Most of the comments on that article are great, and most of the votes are pretty okay. However this article on me/#OrgasmQuest – while marked “Win” – has stayed on the Trashy Feed for a fucking a year. I mean, thanks for the views an all, but seriously – the tag for the trashy feed says “adj. of poor quality …. Ugh, so trashy.” People are trying to tell people about how medications/antidepressants can affect sexuality, sex drive and orgasmic ability. Without being shamed.

Maybe try that.

Just sayin’

Edited to add: Re-reading this post 24 hours later I want to add that my issue/annoyance is not with the author of the piece. As I said at the top, I was/am thrilled to see good information shared in a positive and normative way about depression. I also don’t expect the author to know every article ever on Buzzfeed, especially one that is a year old. My annoyance is with Buzzfeed the site. I’ve seen a few articles that talk about the importance of de-stigmatizing depression/sexuality while a few clicks over I’m being stigmatized for talking about sexuality and depression. Apologies that I didn’t make that more clear at first.

Surviving Life in Limbo

Life in limbo is not my strongest suit.

#MedicatedandMighty selfie

#MedicatedandMighty selfie

I declared 2016 to be the year of Joyful. After the unending horror show of 2015, devastating our world so completely it will never be the same again, I declared this year would be joy. I would find joy in my work, in my home life, in the wonderfulness that is being Partnered to my love. Recovering joy and recovering hope for the future.

One of the biggest reasons I felt hopeful was that on the first of the year, I finally had comprehensive health insurance for the first time in years. Regular therapy again. Seeing my doctor to get on the meds that help both my mental and physical illness so that I could work my way into being even more functional. I did a fantastic job on my own, but I do need meds to help me get where I want to go. Especially because I have had extreme pain in my lower abdomen – the consensus was that the hypothesized early endometriosis had gotten worse and I’d need laparoscopy to take care of that. Grabbed the first available appointment with my amazing GP and off we went.

Routine labs because it had been years since I’ve had a physical or the like. Started some meds for fibro, anxiety and depression. All good. Joyful here I come. I was so thrilled, finally I was getting back to my version of “better”. It was within reach again.

Then I needed to come back for another quick test. My nurse brushed it off as no big deal, they just wanted to run something else and needed more urine. Since I always need to pee, no big deal. Didn’t really give it a second thought.

The first depression med we tried obviously wasn’t working for me, so I grabbed a spot on the schedule just before my Partner so we could make changes. Routine stuff right?

Nope.

Some of my labs come back with concerning results. We sit down and talk more about my various symptoms – a majority I’ve chalked up to living with fibro. Here, pee in a cup again. Everyone’s body language changes. My nurse is patting me kindly. My doctor is offering hugs. This is wonderful for me, but alarm bells go off because I’ve been sick all my life. When the doctor wants to hug you, shit has gone wrong.

Shit has gone wrong. The fuckton of tests that have been run have alarming results and quick checks in my now three-hour routine visit continue to be alarming. “The most likely cause for all this is cancer.”

My Doctor is hugging me with a very sad look on her face.

“Likely cancer” and diagnosed with cancer are obviously two very different things. There are a bunch of really unpleasant tests that need to be done between now and then, all of which are currently waiting for fucking authorization from insurance. Of course, then Epic Snow shut down the east coast, so I’ve been told it will take longer than usual.

We just spent the last year embroiled in one of the most vicious custody battles one can imagine. My professional career has been used against us in court to our detriment. The outcome of The Madness was almost the worst it could be. Our family has been ripped apart. I’ve been in one of the worst depressive cycles of my adult life.

I fucking clawed my way back up from that hell though. We got married. I was headed into my year of joy. Get this medical stuff out-of-the-way and I was going to take off. I have workshops to plan. Podcasts to be on. Blogger Outreach and planning for the ’16 Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit. Articles to write. #OrgasmQuest to get going again. I have shit to do.

“Likely Cancer”

This fucking stopped me in my tracks. Even if it isn’t cancer, there is something very wrong going on. The testing process alone is going to be harrowing, trust me – I’ve been through the gamut of testing most of my life. Now, to wait an unknown period of time before we can even begin that because of the goddamn storm.

This is too much. #IamMighty and I am a freaking Superhero. A Rainbow Colored Pleasure Revolutionary. While I am sweet and kind – I’m also tough as shit. Even freaking Superheroes hit their limit and this is mine. Even more limbo. Even more of my life and future completely out of my hands right now.

So here is the deal. This sex blog is pretty deviod of sexy now. As soon as I possibly can I want to fix that. Throwing myself into writing, throwing myself into talking about sex toys, throwing myself into my continued #OrgasmQuest is the way I’ll get through this.

It’s coming, but I’m not there yet. I’m still rocked and semi paralyzed by living in limbo. Overwhelmed by yet another crisis on the horizon. I have no idea what is coming next, but somehow I’ll survive this as well.

I’m doing the best I can. Thank you for sticking by me.

I do it for the joy it brings, for I am a Joyful Girl.

Since we got married, it’s like a spell has been lifted.
I feel Joy again.

That sounds corny as I type it, but it is so true. We’re laughing in joy again. There is more color in V’s face. We both feel like the world has been lifted from our shoulders. There are little life things that Monday morning would have caused panic that now are…nothing.

“Okay, let’s deal with this.” Verses “No. Just no. I can’t. Go away.”

We’re more animated. I haven’t seen either of us this happy alone or together in about a year. #OrgasmQuest went from a blog post to…world wide media coverage of my masturbation habits, which seriously – no one is ready for that. While that was happening there was the horrific train wreck of all our worst fears coming true through the custody battle, then the darkness that blanketed our world after things didn’t go our way.

Something important. Something Vital finally went our way. For you wonderful new folks who aren’t familiar with our story, my Partner and I were in the same goth/weirdo/manic pixie dream girl social circle as teenagers but never technically met. He did once spot me at the local goth club (because of course) and the first thing he thought upon seeing was “I’m going to marry that girl someday.

The second was “That’s ridiculous, you probably don’t even have the balls to talk to her.” As he finished that thought I walked over to my group of friends and one douche canoe I couldn’t stand. V didn’t talk to me that night because he assumed that if I talked to douche canoe, I wouldn’t like him.

After missing meeting each other two more times by the tiniest of margins, I found him on OkCupid a decade later. At first sight, I knew I needed to know him. He was like me, whatever it is that I am.

It’s never been easy for us. We’ve moved heaven and earth, gone through hell and back many times, simply because we need to be together. This is my Partner. Now, legally. That means more to me than I expected to. It may never be easy for us, but it’s all worth it. Everything has been worth it to be here.

Grinning up at V in joy, seconds before we were wed.

Grinning up at V in joy, seconds before we were wed.

With the spell broken, I’m coming back to life..

Starting to want to interact again. I feel myself coming back to life. With experience, with how open I’ve been over the last year with my struggles, with everything – I’m much more aware of this rebirth than I have of the others. Aware of how much I need to nurture it, aware that I’ll stumble and that darkness will hit again but that I’ll make it back up again.

I’ve had PTSD since I was a child, this cycle has been ever present. I know it will continue to be present.

Val just put in the paperwork. Jan 1 I have full health insurance. I can see a therapist. I can get meds. Get my fucking eyes checked and new glasses. We’re working on name change, I feel like a real person again.

That’s the key. I’m a person again. I feel real. There is a bit of security again. Taking things slowly, we’re about to be punched again, but I’m real. We’re real. I’m not the “second wife”, the mistress, the pitiful stray, without a voice or agency.

I’m fucking real.

Now, what do I want my reality look like?

I want my reality to continue to be joyful. “because the world owes us nothing, and we owe each other the world.” Continue doing what brings me joy. Writing here, seriously and not so, brings me joy. Working on projects with my peers, podcasting with those Swingset fuckers, presenting and facilitating conversations around sexuality and depression. Sexuality and motherhood. Busting stigmas brings me joy.

I want more joy in my personal life. To fully experience this joyous life, I’m letting go. Slowly I’ve password protected posts about abuse and pain. They aren’t deleted, I’m not doing this because I regret my path or speaking my truth. Forever I will stand by my right to share my truth as a survivor. It’s because I don’t want to give that time space in my joy.

A therapist friend who has given me guidance over the years asked me recently about forgiveness. Could I forgive? The answer is that I can when given an apology, shown a modicum of responsibility for their actions. Without that, I cannot as of yet.

What I can do is let go. Look at why abusers abuse, understand that they won’t change, and let go of their power. They have no power over me. I no longer fear them into the depths of my soul. Bless, reject and send back their anger, hatred and ill will.

My life is strange and beautiful. We have to fight daily to keep it, but I am exactly where I need to be.

I am Mighty

I am a Joyful Girl.

Derailment and Perspective

Shortly after I posted the Tracy Chapman song earlier I went to go lie down with my toddler. He’s having trouble sleeping, so I was hoping that both of us could catch a little nap and be in good spirits for the afternoon. Almost as soon as I turned off the lights, calmed him from turning off his paddy, and we got snuggly together – I heard sirens.

Now, we live off a busy street so sirens are rather common, but after a minute or two I realized it sounded like they were coming from the next room. Getting up to investigate, I reached the door as a firefighter was approaching to tell me that the house next door was burning and they’d like us to evacuate as a precaution. Kiddo and I threw on coats and headed to another neighbor’s yard where I bounced a terrified mini me on my back for twenty minutes while making small talk to try to cover the terror of possibly losing our house.

We got the all clear, kiddo got a sucker from one of the fire fighters for being brave and for thanking them for not letting his house burn down “cause all my McQueens live in there”. Kiddo checked out the fire trucks but was still too worried to climb in after being offered the chance. It was a “medium” fire caused by a short in the bathroom fan next door.

Still, scary as fuck.

The rest of the afternoon was spent soothing kiddo, I think my spine is about to snap in two from how many back rides I gave him. Complete derailment of what was planned to be a very busy day, but this derailment comes with needed perspective. My wonderful, messy, colorful home is in one piece. Magically my stress over how messy my office and kiddo’s bedroom is has vanished. (Messy, but not a fire hazard.) Now that life has calmed down, I’m less panicked from a massively panic inducing situation, and so incredibly grateful for what I have. Also very thankful no one was home or injured next door, as the neighbors had just moved in and I’ve yet to really meet them.

I have happiness to express about this little blog that could landing higher than I fathomed on the Sex Blogger Superheroes list, a bit of shameless self promotion on other projects, and a bit of news on #OrgasmQuest. Looks like most of those will be pushed to a later time. Now I just want my beloved XVO to get home so we can spend a quiet evening in our wonderfully not fire damaged house.

Perspective, it hits when you most need it sometimes.

Quick ‘n Dirty: Where To Find My Words Across The Web

A delightful part of getting back to work is that I get glorious opportunities to add my voice across the web on a variety of topics. One of my great lessons from going viral is that I am a much happier rainbow when my words are part of the story, not the story. Here is where to find my words across the web right now…

I believe these are all that have gone live, with a few more delightful links and projects to come soon. One more link before I’m off, signal boosting an excellent opportunity for emerging writers via Bitch.

fellowship_twitter-02

Bitch Media, for almost 20 years an independent, nonprofit feminist media organization, is pleased to announce the Bitch Media Fellowships for Writers, a series of three-month intensive writing fellowships whose goal is to develop, support, and amplify emerging, diverse voices in feminist, activist, and pop-culture media. The program will be directed by Bitch cofounder Andi Zeisler.

The four subject areas are:

  • Reproductive rights & justice
  • Pop-culture criticism
  • Technology
  • Global feminism

Head over to Bitch’s website for the rest of the details. I’m seriously considering applying for one of the Reproductive rights & justice.

Otherwise my darlings, it has been a stressful week for extended and chosen family. I’ve been a bit quiet while helping loves, but as things seem to be improving I’m looking forward to posting regularly.

@GoodVibesToys Is Helping Spread Sex-Positivity To Festival

I love @GoodVibesToys So Very Much. This year they are sponsoring my endless quest to spread Sex Positivity while on our Vacation.

Every year Val and I take a two-week vacation to Brushwood Folklore Center in NY for their two festivals. Brushwood is our home away from home, time where we completely unplug from the outside world and spend quality time with some of our dearest loves who are flung across the country. Last year we started volunteering, both working the gate. With my rainbow wardrobe, I have been christened within the community “Rainbow Brite of the Gate”.

Of course, I’m also known for my train case of sex toys & constant desire to have conversations around Sex Positivity. This community is a beautiful collection of hippies, pagans and free thinkers. These folks are, overall, not very tech savvy or on the web much – so these are people who are already on a sex positive path, but haven’t encountered the larger sex positive community.

This year Good Vibrations has been wonderful enough to send me a large box full of Sliquid Organics and Please Cream in Water & Silicone samples, Glyde condoms in Ultra & Wild Berry &….

  The coveted Rechargeable Magic Wand!

At Catalyst Con East I attended a panel by Carol Queen on What Sex Positivity Is and Isn’t. At the end she implored us to spread the truly positive, inclusive brand of Sex Positivity as much as we could. So I am taking this wonderful opportunity to do so while on our glorious vacation. For when Carol Queen makes a request, you know I’ll find a way to fulfill it.

To my beloved Brushwoodians who may be reading this, Rainbow Brite of the Gate will have all these glorious goodies at Elysium. Please feel free to drop by our camp to chat & check out the glory.

I am a Mighty Happy Crista.

Rainbow Brite of the Gate

Rainbow Brite of the Gate

Crista Anne is Mighty

Truly coming into my own skin is a beautiful and painful process.

Accessing the buried power though, it’s priceless. Worth every aching moment.

Everything has changed over the last few weeks, months. Life flipped upside down. Rugs pulled out from under me. Previous truths exposed. Countless spotlights have been pointed my direction.

I rolled with it, I fought against some, resisting more. Very recently, I regained control across many spheres. Regaining control for a while had my laptop shut as I threw every bit of myself into altering my physical life, drastically altering to make proper spaces for all areas of my life. Most of my focus went to improving life for the kids, altering the house to fit their changing needs.

Then tackling the deep cleaning, the deep sorting that I’d pushed to the side. There were memories, ghosts, hidden in those ignored tasks. Tackling them headfirst, being mighty. Somehow I pushed myself far beyond my physical ability until they were finished. That finish line was exquisite.

Last night I collapsed into bed, the euphoria of being able to rest after the marathon is one of the best feelings in my life. We chatted with a friend on skype, I fell asleep relaxed and feeling a peace I haven’t known in a long while.

I’m ready for the next step. Ready for what comes next.

Now it’s my space that is left to reclaim. While we rearranged the house the sun room, my scared space, became the dumping ground for everything we needed out of the way. This morning I finished moving the lingering extra pieces into their proper places. Now, Now, Now I get to change this area into what I need it to be.

Self care comes in endless forms. Rearranging was self-care. It was the hard change that needed to happen for all of us to grow. I saved the last, this space, as the greatest self-care. Making room for me to find the quiet I need for the words in my head to leave my fingertips is going to be glorious. There is so much I have to say, letting it escape will be cathartic.

I am what I am. I am who I am. All of my roles now fit comfortably within the larger picture of myself. I am Mighty within my own skin.

Mighty and so very grateful. Gratitude for the countless loves who have helped me, us, along this impossibly hard road emanates from me. We’re nowhere near the finish line, but we are strong. We are supported. We are loved and love in return.

Life is beautiful.

Shocking! An update that isn’t Instagram!

Taking a rare quiet moment to actually write here. I’ve received a number of sweet emails from y’all, either checking in or just sending love. Tried to respond to all of them, but if I missed you – I appreciated your words deeply.

We’ve all the kids for most of this week, so I’ve been off being a different brand of superhero. It’s been wonderful, exhausting, but wonderful. I’ve learned that I need to start buying glitter by the pound like my dear friend Carin. Turning me into Queen Mommy Sparkle is a daily event – I’ve glitter in my pores. Not complaining, the house has been very happy, a huge change from the dark cloud that hung over us while we were in limbo.

Words want to fall off my fingertips on a number of topics that are floating around. As that’s just not possible right now, I’ve been RTing wonderful posts on twitter as much as possible. Posting via instagram is my best mode for the next few days. When the child load goes down, I’m blocking off time for my words. It’s important self-care.

I’m sending you all love and light. Thank you for your support, it means the world to all of us.

Softness as Strength

My body aches. Stress has been ripping us to shreds. Last night I kept my computer closed and cried for hours. Ugly sobbing, my nose is raw from having been blown so many times. The dichotomy between how traumatic my personal bubble has been and how positive my professional life is has become hard to process. I’m a Superhero, my idol calls me a pleasure revolutionary. Projects, opportunities are flying my way but there is such a hole that it’s impossible to enjoy them fully.

I feel guilt and shame at being angry about that, it feels so self-absorbed considering the gravity of our situation. If I lose half my kids it really doesn’t matter to me that my heroes are saying nice things about me. I feel guilty that I’m angry. Socialized as a woman all my life, it’s easier for me to experience guilt than it is for me to feel anger. I’m angry and guilty about that too.

What I need is softness, gentleness. So, I’ve been painting with my littlest while people on twitter call me a self-absorbed airhead. That doesn’t hurt my feelings anymore, but I’m out of shouting. It’s time to find strength in my softness again. Sit quietly. Find softness as strength.

“I need a light of some kind”

Life Goal Completed – I Am a SheVibe Superhero

#OrgasmQuest has gone so far beyond my wildest dreams. Interviewed by Carol Queen. Front page of a number of my favorite sites and blogs. New wonderful friends. Now. Now I’m a Motherfucking SheVibe Superhero and I can cross another item off my list of Life Goals. BEHOLD! Continue reading

I feel *almost* Mighty

Mental Illness, It’s a Thing in my Life

Mental illness folks, it’s not all fun and viral internet attention!

Kinda fell off the edge of the word as far as the internet has been concerned, but I think I’m good again. This is what happened, since speaking openly about mental illness has become one of my specialties.

First, the kids brought me the gift of strep throat. So I started my mini-hiatus because I was utterly wrecked. XVO was also ill, so we were giving everything we had plus a lot more to being the best parents we could be through illness. Then, some shit went down. What happened is too complicated, touching too many people in my world to begin to get everyone’s consent to write about it here, so I’m not going to get into much detail. I’m an Ethical Professional Oversharer.

So shit hit the fan, which leads to more shit hitting the fan. Things are really hard, we’re incredibly overwhelmed. How I deal with being overwhelmed is to shut down and do my damnest to concentrate on what I can handle, what I can fix. That even worked for a while! I wasn’t present online, but I was keeping my shit together mentally – not falling apart as I am so very prone to doing.

Until I couldn’t anymore. Since Sunday I’ve been in a panic episode, with each day getting worse and worse until yesterday I wasn’t able to do much more than sit on the end of our bed rocking back and forth, dizzy, sweating, trying not to hyperventilate. I’d woken up two days in a row to instant panic attacks, with delightful flashbacks to triggering events in my life. It was bad.

Then XVO reminded me that I have a doctor who gives a fuck about me, I should call her. AND I DID! That’s a big deal, when I’m in those horrific places reaching out for help is nearly impossible, more so if I need to talk on the phone. I got an emergency script of meds to get me back to at least functional until I can go in to see her and we can work out a new mental health strategy.

There was some awesome in there, and I’m not talking the SheVibe Cover. While in the panic state, I did not experience suicidal ideation! Which is shocking and amazing. Suicidal ideation is my bag, until amitriptyline, I probably thought about suicide on a near daily basis. It was my brain’s instant answer for everything. Stubbed your toe? Kill yourself! After years of therapy I learned to cope with that, eventually turning it into my own little joke that I didn’t share with anyone. “haha brain, that’s fucking ridiculous. Calm yourself.” No, no suicidal thoughts. “Just” a horrible cycle of panic that I couldn’t break, that kept snowballing.

Orally disintegrating clonazepam, I love you.

Going through the panic episode without also pushing through depression was a new experience. It was more frustrating than anything else, part of me knew that I was fully capable of all these things I could make myself do. Like, you know, opening my email or looking at messages. Not even because I was worried about harassment, I just couldn’t deal with the world beyond the walls of my house. Even friendly, loving concern. Too much. Hell, dealing with toddler life was too much within these walls. Hence the spending most of a day rocking back and forth.

Anyway, the cycle I was in appears to have broken. The Huge Life Stress is still *very* present, but it’s not triggering now. Hopefully the universe will cut us some slack the next day or two so I can completely pull my head above the water and get my mighty back. Today I’m dressed, I have makeup on. I’ve opened my email, bullshitted with Cooper. Played ball with Rawr, read books, cooked. Have a dear friend visiting from DC.

I feel like Me Again.

Now, #OrgasmQuest. There has been no progress because between illness and panic, masturbation hasn’t been on my radar at all. One attempt was made with the Form 5, but quickly abandoned as I realized I was too panicked to relax enough to enjoy anything. It’s now bedtime for the Rawr Monster, so perhaps I’ll be able to post again later with great success. We’ll see.

Mental Illness, it’s a thing in my life. When it hits hard, I fall off the radar. If I’m not posting anywhere? Chances are high that I’m in a bad mental place, not simply busy. I have to get myself back together, there isn’t much that outside forces can do. All the love and sweetness sent my way has been deeply appreciated, even if I didn’t really respond.

Now, I am off to finish the Mothering part of my day. Let’s all hope that he decides that brushing his teeth isn’t torture. Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope the last week or two has been better for you than it has been for me.