Tag processing

3 posts


If I’ve learned anything over the last week it’s that as nice as hiding from everything sounds it’s not necessarily helpful, or useful, and it doesn’t stop me from internalizing all of the things.
Sometimes problems get so overwhelming and I think avoiding them will help and it seems like a great idea, but what happens is I just end up having a mental breakdown and needing someone to help pry me open so I can talk about things and actually process them instead of just letting them build and pretending it’s not happening.
So Wednesday night I crashed and I was like I don’t know, I don’t know what’s wrong or why, or how to fix it, and Alex has spent the better part of our relationship learning how to interpret and pry open the Kiery, because sometimes I don’t know even how to start expressing myself (thanks childhood of completely shutting down), so that I can deal with life again.
I think I need to be asked (multiple times) because I need to know it’s safe to talk and that it’s safe to be honest about how I’m doing and that sticking to pleasantries (and convincing others of their true-ness) isn’t necessary. So that way I’m sure that if I’m honest about how I’m feeling I won’t be adding (too much?) weight to the person who’s asking.
For me, a lot of times I know things are bothering me but I don’t know what; it’s a vast overwhelming void of everything and nothing and I couldn’t describe anything if you just asked me. So a lot of my process involves pulling on threads and seeing which one unravels the skein. It still ends up being a lot of everything and nothing but at least it’s identifiable, at least then I can work through it and feel like my head’s above water for a little bit.
I’m doing better today, and I was doing better yesterday – sometimes I just need help because I can’t traverse my brain all by myself, which sounds stupid, but there you go. I can’t articulate so I shut down and internalize and I do it so much that I can’t escape without aid. But now I know (again), I guess, so all of the things that bother me still bother me but I need to process them instead of shutting down and absorbing.
Over the last couple days that I’ve been feeling okay:
I’ve been working out and started a new tumblr with mara, upped my step goal to 5k steps a day instead of 2k
I drew Humorotica this week! And I didn’t hate my drawing, and I doodled today and also didn’t hate that either.
My hiking shoes and combat boots came in and are awesome
I discovered leggings.
I had a thought about KieryGeek that wasn’t just guilt for the first time since July.
I have a lot of disjointed thoughts and feelings on gamergate and when I’m honest, I kinda reallllly hoped it would just go away already but it’s not and I feel like I need to talk about it and draw a comic about it, and maybe even make a vlog about it.
The huge thing is, I can think again, and I feel okay again, and I have about as much of a clue about why I suddenly feel better as I did about why I felt bad (which is to say, I don’t know), but I think acknowledging that my avoid-everything strategy lead to absorb-all-the-sads-and-keep-them-there helped. Realizing that things do affect me even if they don’t affect me directly is kinda crucial, and you’d think I’d figure that out, but at some point I just lose myself and I’m like NO I MUST FEEL ALL OF THESE, AND YOUR FEELS, AND YOUR FEELS, AND THEY ARE MINE NOW, GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS, and it’s not something I need to be doing (but it’s almost impossible to not do because empath), and especially not something that’s healthy for me to hold on to without processing – because it piles and it piles fast and triggers become more intense and…anyway, I lost my point.
I guess I’m just trying to say, I feel better after Alex talked to me and tried to help me make sense of things and then all of the things had names again and now I’m not drowning in an ocean of depression today, and that makes me happy.

The Acceptance Chronicles: hey there's a new one!

I haven’t been able to draw in a week due to this lovely feeling of being run-over by a truck and allllllll of my dexterity disappearing (you should have seen me trying to move a cup, it was ridiculous). So Today, when my brain wasn’t fuzzy, the truck decided to start moving off of me (still hanging around, but I can move again, so) and MY HANDS WORK AGAIN: I decided to make the comic I was going to make last Wednesday. If you haven’t already seen it (because my current system isn’t very well thought-through) it’s over here at Chronicles of a Bitch Goddess (aka comic.kieryking.com).
It’s about lip hair because it still bothers me sometimes, more so than the others. I’m realizing that puberty sucks and that I was never ashamed of any of these things until they were pointed out (and/or ridiculed) to me. Which, for a tween, is really sucky when it’s coming from your family. Sorry little me, it really sucked, but most people are nice. <3
Thank you for reading these, if you have been. The conclusion of the puberty aspect of this will be the week after next (because I’ll be sans-internet next Wednesday). So make sure you check in for that (and just, follow it, because when I have my dexterity I post comics pretty frequently, and there’s a cross-post delay – and I have BIG PLANS, sort of).
Oh and for your (mostly) NSFW pleasure, go here.

intentionally drawing something I'm ashamed of (but don't know why)

It’s been a long couple of weeks.

why does this feel so familiar?I’d like to say that the events of this week, particularly Monday, and then yesterday, and then that thing with the ricin that I missed weren’t bothering me. I was doing so well – but I think just the shear amount of deja vu that I’ve been feeling this week, and last week, and stress from last week and the week before are finally just…..sinking in.

I’m not scared. I’m not terrified. I’m not even angry. But in some recess of my soul, I’m acutely remembering the way I felt and reacted when I was 10 and 9/11 happened. That same amount of confusion and general “what the fuck is even happening?” feeling and the I can’t really think about or process much of anything right now because my brain is kind of just shut down and in a weird way I feel both numb and paralyzed. Numb is probably a good way to describe how I’m feeling, because it’s a confusing lack of emotion that’s running through my brain. I’m not afraid, I’m not upset, I’m just numb and this feels all too familiar, but just like when I was 10, I don’t know what to do about it or how to even channel it.

I distinctly remember, and I’m ashamed to admit, that when I was 10, for at least 3 months following the event, every artistic expression, every game of charades, that was what haunted me and that was what it was about. I think I did towers falling on every turn. I had no way of knowing or figuring out what was happening even (watching the news didn’t help – still doesn’t, they say the same thing over and over because there’s nothing else to say), no one did. It’s confusing, and yet familiar and almost….I don’t know. Life goes on.
I don’t know why I’m ashamed of it, of trying to process it the only way I knew how, by repeating it over and over in every corner of my psyche until I could somehow reconcile it to make sense. I don’t know why I’m ashamed of drawing that picture this afternoon, because I couldn’t do anything else until I drew it. I had to draw the feelings, the comparison, the shame, the confusion, the deja vu that’s been plaguing me all week (and the deja vu from article hits last week – just too much deja vu in one month I think), I had to draw the greyscale, the numb, cold, unfeeling, unscathed, cloudy, confusing color that both is reminisce and present.
I had to draw it, because I had to move on. Life goes on, “terror attacks” (god that phrase is so hard to use now) don’t stop us from living – I think if we’ve proven anything over the last 12 years it’s that. Life. keeps. moving. the world keeps spinning – eventually with time things will start to make sense.
I really didn’t want to draw it. Because I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve had a hard week, that this bothers me on a subconscious level, that it feels so familiar and yet I don’t feel heated, I really didn’t want to draw it because I didn’t know how to move on, and for some reason I felt like giving image to the feels was stepping back. Like I needed to just get over it. I feel ashamed for connecting the two events psychologically, I feel ashamed for needing a break. But I drew it anyway, and it’s not a very good drawing, but it’s the drawing both 10 and 22 year old me needed to draw because we needed to give our overwhelmed, overtired, overstressed psyche some semblance of closure – so I can turn off the news for a while, and move forward.