Hearts for Lucy: A Recipe

Lucy and I often drool over the enormous cookies available at coffee houses, so I started experimenting with baking for her. I never did any baking for myself before Lucy came along, but nowadays I'll randomly bake cookies and surprise her with them at work. I found this recipe oatmeal raisin cookies online somewhere and have been adapting it to suit our tastes. The big cookies turn out all cakey and spicy and Lucy really enjoys them. First, I made them with ¾ cups raisins and chocolate chips each, but Lucy thought the chocolate chips were too much. Well, I like the chocolate, so I've been modifying the ratio ever since. Today's batch will taste extra good because I've made them into heart shapes:

Ingredients:
½ cup butter, softened
½ cup butter flavored shortening
1 cup dark brown sugar
½ cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1½ cup flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinammon
½ tsp allspice
½ tsp salt
3 cups oats
1 cup raisins
¼ cup chocolate chips (roughly measured... more like one third cup)

Directions:
1) Preheat oven to 300°F
2) In a large bowl, cream together the butter, shortening, brown and white sugars, eggs, and vanilla until smooth.
3) Combine the flour, baking soda, cinammon, allspice, and salt into the creamed sugar mixture and stir until just moistened.
4) Stir in the oats, raisins, and chocolate chips.
5) On a baking sheet (I always use parchment paper to keep things from sticking), press out (with your hands!) the cookie dough into your desired cookie shapes (hearts, in this example). The cookies should be almost half an inch thick and at least 4 inches wide. Done right, you should manage only 3 cookies on a sheet.
6) Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until the edges start to brown a little. Let them cool a few minutes before removing them from the sheet. (The cookies will be a tad fragile until they've cooled completely.)

Makes about 7 cookies. Don't let the children near these! They're anxiously delicious!

Avoidant Personality

Rhyme of the Ancient Wanderer is a website with an excellent compilation, aggregation, and... uh... gatherization of information about several mental health diagnoses. (With citations!) The most poingant of which, for me, is this piece about Avoidant Personality Disorder.

The whole thing, it's all just such a perfect description of myself. Here's some choice bits (all bolding is mine):

Individuals with AvPD are preoccupied by the unpleasant and perplexing personal definition they hold of themselves as defective, unable to fit in with others, being unlikable, and being inadequate. This self-image usually results from childhood rejection by significant others such as parents, siblings, or peers. These individuals then believe that others throughout their lives will react to them in a similar fashion. They are often unable to recognize their own admirable qualities that make them both likable and desirable (Will, Retzlaff, ed., 1995, p. 97). Rather, they see themselves as socially inept and inferior. They believe that they are personally unappealing and interpersonally inadequate. They describe themselves as ill at ease, anxious, and sad. They are lonely; they feel unwanted and isolated. Individuals with AvPD are introspective and self-conscious. They usually refer to themselves with contempt (Millon & Davis, 1996, p. 263).

Individuals with AvPD are "lonely loners." They would like to be involved in relationships but cannot tolerate the feelings they get around other people. They feel unacceptable, incapable of being loved, and unable to change. Because they retreat from others in anticipation of rejection, they lead socially impoverished lives.

Before I got my current job, I was unemployed, living off of student loans, and practically a shut-in. Lucy is the only person I talk to on a regular basis.

Individuals with AvPD will develop intimacy with people who are experienced as safe. Nevertheless, they will often engage in triangular marital or quasi-marital relationships which provide intimacy while maintaining interpersonal distance.

I'm not sure if my "relationship" with Lucy qualifies as being "Triangular marital" or "Quasi-marital," but reading that part certainly raises my eyebrows.

Individuals with AvPD behave in a fretful, restive manner. They overreact to innocuous experiences but maintain control over their physical behaviors and expression of emotions. Their speech is hesitant and constrained. They appear to have fragmented thought sequences and their conversation is laced with confused digressions. They are timid and uneasy (Millon & Davis, 1996, p. 261).

Maybe I should just put the full text of the page in blockquotes?

Shame is one of the central AvPD affective experiences. Shame and self-exposure are intimately connected -- which leads to withdrawal from interpersonal connection to avoid experiencing shame (Sutherland & Frances, Gabbard & Atkinson, eds, 1996, p. 993). These individuals are anguished. They describe their emotions as a constant and confusing undercurrent of tension, sadness, and anger. Sometimes this relentless pain results in a general state of numbness. They posses few social skills and personal attributes that can lead them to the pleasures and comforts of life. They must attempt to avoid pain, to need nothing, to depend on no one, and to deny desire. They try to turn away from their awareness of their unlovability and unattractiveness (Millon & Davis, 1996, p. 265).

So now you know a bit more about me.

Updates with Lucy

Thanks goes to Susan, from If you're going through hell keep going, for reminding me that someone might actually be reading this site (24 someones, at the time of this writing!) and that some updates might be in order.

Several days after the last letter in this post, my mood lifted suddenly. Like, I could literally feel the mood lift, in my head, like a veil being pulled away or some pressure being released, and I said "I've been pretty upset for no real reason." After all, it's not like Lucy was rejecting me or saying she didn't like me or "breaking up" with me, even though that's how I was taking it. I feel pretty damned stupid for how upset I was.

Lucy just wanted me to back off on the overt flirtacious behavior I was doing out in public. She's very afraid of being caught by her husband or by one of her husband's friends. I'm trying my best here, but I have trouble with self control. The other day, her husband came into the store to pick her up after work (even though her house is only a five minute walk away) and to pick up a few things (using her employee discount). I told myself not to look over, to catch a few more glimpses of her before she left, but my body moved spontaneously and I found myself looking over and over and over. While Lucy didn't see this herself, her husband did and he was not happy about it, and they fought about it after they left.

Lucy has also visited me in my apartment a couple times these past two weeks, since we've been lucky that her's, her husband's, and my work and school schedules have left Tuesday and Thursday mornings free. The first time we watched a dvd she picked up on the recommendation of one of her professors and the second time I made her lunch. (Homemade pizza! I make the crust and everything.) Both visits ended with cuddling sessions, intense and heavenly, but borderline dangerous.

We don't know when we'll get to visit like this again because she has a ton of school work hanging over her head, but the next time we do I now have a copy of Harvey on dvd, which I've been meaning to share with her for a while now.

Kicking the Habit

I'm so doing it, I'm making the dumb mistake of tapering myself off of all my medications. I've gone from 450mg of Wellbutrin, 200mg of Lamictal, and 375mg of Effexor... to just 37.5mg of Effexor. Even Brain zaps haven't been much of a problem, only occurring mildly after I taper myself another notch.

I'm even going so far as to break the pink 75mg Effexor capsules in half by carefully pulling them apart, divvying up the tiny white pellets inside so that each half of the capsule has half the pellets, and closing them by crimping down the open end and fusing it shut with an xacto blade I've heated up with one of the gas burners on the stove:

It's stupid, I know it, and I know I should so be seeing a psychiatrist while I do this, but I don't care anymore. I've been doing the tapering myself and I haven't (as of yet) met the disasterous end I've been fearing.

So why the hell would I do something so stupid while knowingly knowing that it's stupid? Well, it's partly because of what happened the last time I was in between psychiatrists, several years ago...

I went to the student health center on campus here for help with my medications, as I was completely out. I was trying to find a local psychiatrist instead of the one from home, in Ohio. He gave me 6 months of refills at a time, so I didn't have to meet with him too often but when I did it meant a 7-8 hour drive each way.

Anyway, I went to the student health center because the counseling center had told me that I could go there for help with my medications when I have an emergency. (They told me this after a previous emergency.) So I went there, and it was an awful experience. The woman at the front desk sounded disgusted with me, "We don't just fill prescriptions!" Yeah, I know, I didn't expect you would. And then the doctor I met with was very intimidating, and he became incredibly angry with me because, yeah, I was stretching out my pills. "You should take better care of yourself!" He scolded. I felt myself shrink to half my original size.

While this is far from the worst that could've happened (I did a couple weeks' worth of pills... were I to take them as I should), it certainly felt bad enough. Now that I'm in a similar situation—in between doctors, spreading out my pills, and procrastinating like mad—I'm afraid of a similar situation occurring. Except that this "what if" in my head feels like it will be ten times worse because of how much I've tapered, because of how much I've waited.

At this point I think I'm just going to let myself kick this drug habit completely. For as much as I've tapered, my depression and anxiety hasn't worsened. I can tell I'm a bit moodier, but (and I talked with Lucy about this for a more objective opinion) I haven't been affected much at all. (Go me!)

Still, it's embarrassing to admit just how much fear runs my life to this day.

Letters to Lucy

9/14/08 10:50 AM

Hey,

This all did make sense.

You have a right to tell me to back off and I'll totally do it. I act the way I do because it seem to make you happy, but I can stop, though.

And I'm really sorry that you feel you have to hide things from me. I don't want you to be miserable, even 1% of the time, even if you're with your husband.

I'm saddened by this development, but I'll deal I suppose. Do you want to "just be friends"? How much do you want to cut back? Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it the best I can.

I'm sorry for the short reply... I slept in here and have a nice headache.

Laters

9/15/08 11:09 AM

Hi Lucy,

Thank you for the email, it's put me at ease some. It keeps occurring to me that I've done or said something (or been doing or saying something) that has made you feel like you can't share everything with me or that you have to walk around on eggshells with me. More than wanting to go back to being just friends, that you feel you can't talk with me has been a painful thing to imagine. Anything I can do, please just tell me and I'll do it.

Is it because of what I said about you and Mickey? Honestly, I'm happy that you're friends with him and that you got to spend the day with him. I really am. I wish I'd never sent that email.

Anyhoo, I'm happy just being friends, and I'll cut out the flirting now that you've clearly drawn that line. I'll just have to try and make you happy in non-flirty ways.

Hope you're having a good day.

9/16/08 9:47 AM

Hey Lucy,

I've been really unsure of what to say here. I've had this reply window open for two hours now and I haven't written anything yet. I've had tons of thoughts over the last few days but I'm not sure I should share any of them because I feel like they'd only make the situation worse and hurt you more. I also hesitate to write in general because I'm not sure when, if ever, you'd reply.

I'm actually feeling pretty hurt here. I don't think I should say that because I know you'll blame yourself. But I don't blame you and I'm not angry or upset or anything with you. I feel like, maybe, I'm going through some kind of "break up" phase, if that makes any kind of sense. I still want to be friends with you, but it's probably going to take me a while to learn how to act around you, especially since we're working with each other so little now.

You've always been the restrained one, so I don't know if you're going through something similar.

Since I read your email on Sunday, though I've been trying to ignore or defuse this line of thinking, I've been struck with the sensation, in my chest, that something's gone sour between us and that nothing will ever be the same and that, eventually, the relationship between us, whether romantic or "just friends," has its days numbered.

I'm relieved to know that I'm not causing you to pull away from me, but I don't find it any easier to know that you're doing it. What can I do to help? What can I do to fix things? I'm not expecting you to have any answers.

I'm not sure I should've written any of this. I feel like anything I say is just going to make you miserable. I hope that's not the case. I hope you're having an awesome day.

Today: Summarized

Awful, painful, disasterous, lonely, sad, despondent. I'm not even sure how to descrive today.

The day began and ended 10:30 this morning when I woke up to find an email from Lucy. She says our relationship (what little there is) has gone too far, and that she feels she can't be completely honest with me.

(Background, since I haven't written about it yet: Lucy is in an emotionally/psychologically abusive marriage, and I've been her main supporter, friend, and confidant throughout the past half a year or so. I told myself not to, but I did develop feelings for her and, somehow, she managed to do the same for me. Not only am I absolutely crazy about her but she's also, quite literally, the only friend I have.)

I don't know why she feels she has to hide things from me or "walk on eggshells around me," as she put it. I've always tried my damnedest to be open and supportive and to accept her in every way possible. And I've tried my hardest to be open and honest and to be as patient and understanding as humanly possible when it comes to her marriage.

The email from this morning has affected me somehow. I fear that what we have is on its way out—both the friendship and the possibility of a relationship. I feel like my heart has stopped. Or maybe it's just outright disappeared leaving nothing but an empty cavity in my chest where it used to be.

Maybe this is what is meant by the phrase "a broken heart"?

I don't think I can keep writing about this right now. I've been putting off these thoughts all fucking day and writing them down is going to lead to a breakdown, I know it.

Favorite Music: Local H

A recent addition to my music library was Local H's Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles? (My third album by the group—Yay! I'm now caught up to 2004!)

Local H is a post-grunge/hard rock act that's been around since the mid 1990s and they had a hit on the radio with the song Bound for the Floor, which many people might remember as the song that used the word "copacetic." They're an intelligent group ("group" meaning both members, as there's only two of them) and their angst, unlike Nirvana or Smashing Pumpkins or other groups, is grounded in reality, in every day life. I find this very appealing and I also believe it's a cause for the longevity of the group.

One recurring theme in their music is the idea that everything is, well, copacetic—lead singer Scott Lucas will go on about how life is just fine and good—and yet, though this is superficially true, it's actually a truly awful way to live. There's nothing wrong, but there's also nothing happening. This really strikes a chord with me.

This theme appears prominently on P.J. Soles in the song Everyone Alive. Here's the lyrics:

I said "Hey, hello, Mom and Dad.
Are things great? O.K.? or just plain bad?
Are you alive? Is everyone Alive?
Oh, yeah - well me? I guess I'm doing fine.
I don't know why you think I would be lying.
I'm alive like everyone's alive.
Is anyone alive?

I'm all-right.
I'm just fine.
All my life
I'm all right
Everyone is alive."

She said "Oh honey, hey. Hello. How was your day?"
I said, "Work is work. Don't know any other way.
But, I'm alive like everyone's alive.
It's just the day to day that I seek.
I gotta find a way to the end of the week
And make it alive. Like everyone alive.

I'm all-right.
I'm just fine.
All my life
I'm all right
Everyone is alive."

It's just like me: I'm alive, but I'm not really living. I'm on autopilot, working and sleeping with no goals and no direction. I'm alive, but maybe it'd be better if I wasn't.

Dissociative 9/11 Disorder

Yesterday's anniversary came and went and I didn't even realize it had been here. I don't follow the news, whether on TV or online, so I don't know what, if any, are there was.

Everyone seems to have a story, a strong memory of where they were and what they were doing that day way back in 2001. Would it be fair to compare this to JFK's assassination in that the event and the recoil from it seem to linger years afterwards? I'm hardly a scholar on this effect in either instance.

See, I suffer from dissociative 9/11 disorder.

I remember where I was when I first learned about the airplane crashing into the twin towers: I was in a studio art class that morning and, when the teacher came out and announced what had happened, ...I went back to work. I continued with the rest of my day as normal.

I didn't experience any shock or anything. I didn't watch the news constantly and I've never seen any of the footage. It just didn't seem to matter. I didn't feel any injury to America's pride and my love of flags didn't increase. (I've never even owned one.) Maybe had I been living in NYC at the time I would've had some reaction, because I personally would've been affected.

I'm not saying it wasn't a tragedy, just that it didn't elicit any emotional response whatsoever. Am I a bad american citizen? Am I just incredibly disconnected with my fellow human beings and the rest of the world? I think I'll leave that decision to the DSM V.

A Waste of Time

This week, my hours at work were cut from the forty a week I'd been generously given to the twenty-five I'm supposed to have as a part time employee. There's good aspects to this, like having free time away from this job that I loathe so much. The downsides are that I've just lost a decent portion of income that I need to, you know, live on, and, even worse, I don't get to see Lucy nearly as much as I used to.

Faithful readers might be demanding to know, "So where the hell are all the posts?" It's true, even with the extra time and energy I now have, I haven't been writing here. What have I been doing instead? Cleaning, of all things.

For one who lives in near total isolation, cleaning is pretty much a waste of time. Indeed, in the three plus years I've lived in this apartment, I have not once done any thorough cleaning. Why not? Well, since no one ever visits, I don't have to keep the place in any kind of presentable state. And as long as I can tolerate the mess then it's no problem.

Sure I've cleaned before. I've done dishes, vacuumed, scrubbed the toilet, etc. but I have some dishes that have literally been around for months. I have cobwebs and shelves and ledges nearly black with dust. I'm still finding little mouse turds from the few unwelcome guests I've had over the years. (I've been meaning to clean enough to find the hole for ages now.)

So now that I have the time and energy and motivation (because I'm fed up with it), it's time to clean house.

Suggestions

These are not the kind of suggestions one should be making.

Things I Sing to Myself

Lately, I find that when things go even slightly sour during the day I'll sing to myself, under my breath if other people are around, "I hate my life and I want to die."

Funny part is, I'm usually not in a very bad mood when I do this.