Morning Thoughts from Mama Bear’s Back Patio

March, 18 2021

Good Morning, dear friend

Would you like to join me for a cuppa?

I drink my morning cup of coffee on mama bear’s back patio, listen to some music and let my mind wander.

It’s when I do my best thinking.

My therapist says one of the ways I dissociate is to intellectualize my emotional response to things to avoid feeling the things.

Anyway.

Today, I was thinking about phrases like, “not all men,” ‘all lives matter,” “I don’t see color,” and ”there is one race - the human race.” I was trying to figure out why they are triggering to me specifically.

To me, these phrases are like trying to suture a dirty wound closed.

Close the open wound. It’s simple. It’s objectively true. Just close the open wound.

It will appear fixed for an extremely short time but it will ultimately fail because there is dirt, debris, infection. Dead and dying tissue that inhibit healing gets trapped deep inside the wound. And every time you suture it closed, it opens back up, causing more damage, compromising more healthy tissue, spreading more infection. If this cycle happens enough times, the infection can poison the blood. The infection can kill.

All you did was close the open wound, right?

The only thing you did was close the open wound.

Did you inspect the wound?

Did you clean the wound?

Did you disinfect the wound?

Did you address the pain the wound caused?

Did you cut out the deeper dead tissue?

Did you give antibiotics to treat the infection?

Did you provide time and rest for healing to occur?

Did you protect the wound from further injury while it healed?

”Not all men”

”All Lives Matter”

”I don’t see color”

”We are all part of the human race”

It’s the same energy.

Cafe Bustelo is some strong stuff.

March 19, 2021

If I am being honest and compassionate with my egoic self, I fight for equity and healing, not revenge because

Past the anger

Past the pain

Past the shouting

Past the grief

Past the fear

I hold you accountable for your shitty behavior because I love you and I know you are capable of being a better human being

Walking the talk is an interesting experience

Anyway, it’s mama bear’s birthday today, so I’ll probably be in a food coma for the next couple of days.

March 21, 2021

I saw a video on TikTok that got me thinking.🤔

In the video, the person was talking about how when neurodivergent folks give a compliment, it tends to be observational, honest and specific but there is no real need to continue a conversation. Like “ here’s this thing I noticed about you. kthxbai”. A neurotypical person on the receiving end then is weirded out by the casual intensity of the comment and doesn't know how to respond or becomes suspicious of the intent because (and this is part that kinda blew my mind) neurotypical compliments are transactional in nature, i.e. a specific reaction is expected or they are trying to bank goodwill to gain favor.

Is this why people think I'm flirting with them?

Is this why I can't tell when people are flirting with me???

This what I get for putting cinnamon in my coffee today

April 1, 2021

It's raining this morning. The thunder woke me up. But I'm not annoyed by that. I like the smell of the air after it rains - petrichor, I think it's called. A heady combination of earth and sky. It's really lovely when you stop to notice it.

Anyway, I realized that while I can recognize subtext and hints and I can decode it with incredible accuracy (thank you hypervigilance and empathy), I don't like to. It gives me anxiety and stress. It’s emotional labor that is imposed upon me rather than something I choose to take on. I respond much better to direct communication. Even an attempt to articulate what's going on in your head even if it's difficult or vulnerable, I appreciate. Direct and honest communication is highly attractive to me. It always has been but I think I've only been able to put it into words now.

Yeah, I put cinnamon in my coffee again this morning

June 28, 2021

Last week, I was sick - fever, body aches, near constant migraine. I was miserable, uncomfortable and, honestly, a little scared.

Was it COVID? Was it meningitis? Was it some odd vector-borne disease because I sit here on the back patio musing to myself becoming a buffet for the mosquito population of North Tampa?

I have deeper sympathy for cats with FUOs.

But as I lay dying on the couch, I realized that for the first time in a really long time I had people to take care of me. People who actually WANTED to take care of me. And here’s the part that surprised the heck out of me - I let them.

For example, last Sunday I went directly from bed to couch without opening my eyes because light hurt that much. Mama bear comes in, sees me laying on the couch with a bunch of concern in her eyes and asks me, “are you okay, Jen?”

She doesn’t use my name unless I’m lost.

Interpret that as you will.

And I had a choice in that moment. I could do what I have always done and downplay how I was feeling so as not to worry my mother (hyperindependence teaches you how to do that well) OR I could just admit I felt terrible and not try to mitigate how she felt about it (because that is not something I can control nor should I try to control. It takes too much energy).

She made me soup.

She made tea.

She got me water.

She made a cold compress for my head.

She let me rest.

And she never let me feel like I was a burden, because I felt like a burden.

And I was comforted. I felt loved. I needed that so much.

Is someone cutting onions? Who the heck puts onions in their coffee. Weirdo.