Sunday 18 December 2022

Mr. T

 I know I haven’t mentioned it yet, but I am in the process of buying a property. I had my offer accepted the first week of August and this delightful experience is still ongoing. Friday the 16th was the deadline put in place by the top of the chain, that date has now come and gone, and I am none the wiser to what is happening.

The issue, for once, doesn’t seem to be with my solicitors. It appears to be with the sellers’ solicitors. I’ve been CCed in on a few emails, and it appears the sellers’ solicitors haven’t responded to any enquiries in over a month.  I am currently in house buying limbo, waiting to see whether the chain has fallen apart or if they were buffing. Odds are I won’t find anything out until Tuesday, as the estate agent only works Tuesday – Thursday. In the meantime, I get to be a ball of stress, and probably not for the reason you think.

This is Mr. T. I call him Mr. T because I pity the fool at gets between him and his food. The first thing you need to know is Mr. T doesn’t like me and I don’t like him, but yet I have spent more hours than I am going to admit in writing crying over this damn cat.

It all boils back to one afternoon, I was sitting on a couch with Mr. T at my then boyfriend's house and the robot vacuum started up. Mr. T was scared and not happy about this robotic intruder moving about. I put my hand on him, which normally he wasn’t fond of, but this time, I could tell he didn’t mind, and I told him it would be okay, and I would look after him. He was okay sat next to me until the vacuum bumped into the leg of the coffee table near us and jumped. But not like a startling big jump, one of those, deep in your soul jumps that are undetectable to the outside world unless someone happen to be holding you at the time kind of jumps.

I recognised that jump, and it got me thinking. Mr. T is a stray that sometimes uses this house we were in for safety and warmth, but it’s not his place and he knows that. He’s welcome there only on someone else’s terms and it can be taken away at any time. No wonder he’s an asshole, uncertainty makes me grumpy too.

In that moment I decided if a better home couldn’t be found when I moved, he could come live with me. We don’t have to get along, we don’t have to be BFFs. But he can have his own space, a place he can call his. Where he knows he’s safe and warm, that can’t be taken away. Where he can nap in peace and not worry about other cats picking on him. Something that’s his.

So, I am not stressed about the sale possibly falling apart for me. I’ll be okay, I always am. I am stressed for this cat. Who just deserves to be warm and safe and not have to be uncertain or worried. I just want him to be okay and happy and know no matter what, he has someone.

Am I possibly transferring some of my undealt with emotions onto a cat… probably. Am I going to deal with them and process them like I should, hell no. I am just going to continue crying over a cat.

Anyways since I am now ugly crying, I am going to leave this here, and go write something a little less, feely. As always, my dears, leave your thought and questions in the comments below and stay and play safe. 

Monday 12 December 2022

Neuro-spicy

I mentioned in a previous post I’m “neuro-spicy” and a few of you have had questions, as this isn’t something I talk a lot about. I don’t tend to not talk about it as I’m only partially diagnosed, which can be a little awkward. But since you guys had questions, I thought I’d fill you in. 

When I was little, it was clear I wasn’t neurotypical however it was also clear I wasn’t “slow”. So, when I was in early elementary this led to a lot of testing. Through this testing, a few things were brought to light. The first being my short-term memory is poor. I believe the phasing on the report is “less than the standard” whatever the hell that means. But this is why mental math was and always has been an issue for me, yet I was always a few grade levels ahead in math. I can sum this up quicker than them…. I simply can’t remember the previous sum to do the next thing to it. This is also why my reading comprehension sometimes took me longer. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand it, it was a couldn’t remember it. Once it was in my brain, I didn’t have a problem This is also the reason why I must write things down because it will be lost to the universe otherwise. 

The second thing that came to light is the cause of the frustration. I was screened for Autism, which I very clearly didn’t have from the results, however part of that screening included testing for Sensory Processing Disorder, which I very clearly did have. However, even to this day, SPD isn’t a standalone diagnosis. So, despite the testing very clearly showing I have it, because I didn’t have Autism, I couldn’t have SPD. 

Science, of course, does move on, and people are fighting to make it a standalone diagnosis. However, when I was a child Autism was the only thing SPD was linked to, now it is also linked to ADHD which might be a better fix for me. I wasn’t screened as a child for this as girls just weren’t screened, it was a boy thing. However, nowadays we know differently, and girls just present differently. 

In my case, I suspect that’s where the link is. However, at my age, there isn't a benefit to being tested. There’s actual risk thanks to some interesting laws. I am just more aware that my social anxiety is likely linked more to SPD than true anxiety so isn’t treatable in the same way. I know I may need to lean on others as the techniques that are recommended don’t work the same way when your brain is just different.  It’s just one of those things.

So, there you are, I have SPD even though I can’t have SPD as I don’t have the linked diagnosis hence “partially diagnosed”. I hope that answers your questions. I am off to sleep as it's 2 am and that’s what normal people do. As always, stay, and play, safe. 

Monday 5 December 2022

Dating Is For The Stupid

I’ve often theorized that the older you get, the harder dating becomes and that's because dating requires a certain level of stupid. The older you get the harder it is to feign this level of required of stupid.

I am not sure if being “neuro-spicy”, makes this more difficult for me, or if it’s simply because I’ve blogged for 15 years, I am used to doing these black box reports that it just jumps out at me more than that the average person.

This time, credit the guy, the date itself was fine. We went for drinks and had a laugh, I was my usual closed-off self, but still, we were able to have a laugh and get to know each other. This guy had some red flags against him going into the date, however, newly single after 8 months, I needed to dip my toe back in. Mainly because I believed and still do, my ex moved on in less than 4 days. At the end of the night, we went our separate ways, I went home, and he went to his hotel, with the agreement we’d meet for breakfast.

It didn’t play out like that; the second he was back in his room; he became a sex pest. And that wasn’t happening. The guy had a kid, and we all know my rule regarding safe sex, say it with me, “birth control, condoms, and responsible chance the guy I’m sleeping with is shooting blanks.” I was willing to try and overlook this, but it was going to take time. Time, he wasn’t interested in giving me, it turns out.

This is where the lack of being stupid comes into it; I was drunk and thinking about it. But I hopped on the dating site where we met as I wanted to see just how long we had been talking. He was very keen to push things forward, so the date was quicker than I would have liked it to be. While I was checking things, I noticed his location had changed to where the hotel was. So, dude, while trying to get in my pants, he was still on actively on the site. I had done the girl, joking “you must have a lot of girls lined up for dates”. And he responded with, no, it’s only you I am interested in” …. dude couldn’t even make it 8 hours, or at least be smart enough to turn you’re tracking off. Hard pass.

Needless to say, breakfast didn’t happen, and I haven’t heard from him since. I suspect he found a source to dampen his dick as when I looked before writing this post, he is no longer a premium member; however, his account is still open, so take from that what you will.

Anyways, let that be a lesson to you; either turn off your location tracking or don’t be a prick, which lesson you take is up to you.

I am off to try and get some sleep before work, let me know your most recent dating nightmares in the comment section below. And as always, stay and play safe.

Friday 2 December 2022

Let's Try This Again

I teased over a month ago, I was making a return to blogging; and, well, I clearly haven’t. At least not yet, and the reason for this is simple. I felt like I needed to fill you in on everything that has happened over the past 16 months. And I don’t want to. I stopped posting mainly because I didn’t want to deal with what was happening. I had reached the point where I needed to survive and to do so meant not processing things.

Blogging is the ultimate therapy, I’ve always said this, that’s why things that are said maybe be accurate while writing, but not 5 minutes later. Just the act of writing them has allowed you to work through them and resolve them. Makes for some interesting conversations and the reason I don’t tend to share my blog with people I know in the real world. Learned those lessons, real quick.

Back to my point, what I have decided to do is just carry on and post as I normally would. And when it’s called for or a natural fit, I’ll fill in the details of the past 16 months. That way we move forward with new content, and I don’t get overwhelmed. Seems like a win/win to me.

Hopefully, the next post you see from me will be something entertaining and not just me saying sorry for another failed comeback. As always, stay and play, safe.

Friday 14 October 2022

Returning To Blogging

Hello strangers on the internet, it’s been a while, ago long while. My last post was over a year ago, not long after I turned down my promotion, I worked so hard to get it. I would have hoped I had used this year away, to heal and grow; get myself back to a stable place. That, however, my friends, isn’t how the story plays out. And I return to you a year older, feeling like tangled un-sauced spaghetti.

I'm currently tangled in my feelings. I'm not sure which feeling belongs to which emotion or what root cause. I'm hoping by coming back to my blog. I'll be able to sit and write and work through some of the almost trauma of the last few years.

Not going to lie, I'm not going to sugar-coat it the last few years, last decade has sucked. I've worked hard to fight through, I've worked hard to get here. I'm still here, I’m still fighting, I’m still going. But fuck…. I’m tired. That little bitch lied when she said the sun will come out tomorrow. I'm starting to question if there even is a sun.

We all know October is hard for me, this year is no different. I'm trying. I really am. But right now, as I sit here, crying at my keyboard. I'm struggling to find the fight. Don't get me wrong, I know good things are coming. I know the tide is turning. But getting there is. This is a lot of work. I'd like, I said. I'm tired.

I’ll go into details on everything that’s happened recently in the next few posts.  I don’t want to completely fall apart on you all at once. I just wanted to say hi, and let you know, I plan to make a return. Even if I am older and none the wiser evidently.

Love

The Honest Bitch