Tag Archives: V

Car accident

We were in a car accident yesterday morning at 5am, when V was taking me to the Amtrak station. The brakes didn’t engage at a stoplight, and there was a lot of slush on the ground, so we went straight into the intersection and into the passenger side of a massive truck. The car is destroyed.

I have severe bruising on my left pectoral area, enough to make it feel like a small breast, and scrapes across my chest and into the side of my neck from the seatbelt, as well as some whiplash, and bruising on my stomach, just above my waist. V has a badly bruised knee and some mild bruising from his seatbelt, but he seems to be in less physical pain than I am, for which I am grateful.

The other driver was fine and his truck was completely drivable, but incredibly unpleasant, screaming obscenities at us and so on while I was trying to call 911. The police completely blame V and gave him a ticket for “unreasonable speed” (had had been going under the speed limit on the entire road), and one for running a red light. If his insurance company can find out if something was wrong with the brakes, because they had made a loud crunch when engaged several stoplights back, I don’t know if it will help at all. His father is giving the information to his lawyer and V’s insurance company is going to look at the car, because the place it was towed to will not release it without V there in person. I guess if Progressive wanted to pick him up and take him home, he could go sign it over to them, or whatever, but we have no vehicle and he couldn’t drive even if he did, because his right knee needs to be stabilized.

He has an appointment later today with an orthopedist.

I would like to ask for as much healing and prayers as you can spare, and the same toward resolving the accident and insurance without him having a lot of points taken off his license or large fines.


Yesterday was a very bad day — I am scraping through the bottom of the mental health barrel — and we were not able to do what we had wanted for the solstice and mother’s night. But, barring a convenient Stonehenge (where it was raining and very dark, anyway) or Science, the exact solstice is difficult to determine and wanders each year, so I hoped shifting the majority of things to today would be all right.

We lit tealights for the important goddesses and women in our lives, as well as some who were very important to people we loved. Some were slightly generalized: Buddhist tradition says that the numberless sentient beings are all our mothers, and they have all been our children, at some point in time. We ended up with fourteen candles. Had some people not been grouped together, I think we might have gone through half the box. I felt terribly serious about it; I have never had a mother, and I have seen how the loss of his mother has torn B. apart and how much it hurts R., whose wife she was.

I was adopted by Brand’s mother, Auðhelga, and so was B.

Inadvertently (it was largely to do with emotional and physical exhaustion and what I could handle cooking), I made cream of rice for dinner, which is a comfort food (in the form of cream of wheat, which none of us can eat, now, but I’ve forgotten what the difference in taste was and so have they) for Brand and V., because their grandmothers made it for them all of the time.

I also made Freyr’s tea, because I was fortunate enough to find unfiltered raw honey at the grocery, which is the only sort of honey that he and some of my spirits are very willing to have put in things for them. He asked me in the beginning to eat a little raw honey every day, and I have not been able to do it because I haven’t had the food stamp space for a while now. It’s very good to be able to share his tea again.

It rained the past two days and it will rain all day tomorrow, and my shoes have holes in them. Nerthus asked me to go stand on the ground barefoot — it’s actually warmer right this second than it will be tomorrow (the high is rapidly dropping from the upper fifties to the mid twenties), but I am so very tired. And I want to bring something to the pine in the back yard. I am not entirely sure how to accomplish this without looking insane to the landlords. My logical reason for being in the backyard is taking the trash out. Perhaps I can ask V. to hold the offering cup for me since I am stronger than he is, as far as the trash is concerned (this is not saying much, to be honest: whereas he has lost all of his muscle tone to cfs, I’ve kept some because I’ve had to carry home groceries and so on).

I have flipflops, which will be less troublesome than my shoes with holes in them, for the purpose of standing on the ground (though one could argue I am always standing on the ground in those shoes…!).

I will try to get some sort of feel for what the pine would like out of the tea that we have.

Autumn and winter are the only times of the year that I feel especially comfortable, so the solstice is not about lengthening days and the passing of winter for me.

It is about the moon in an ice cold clear sky, shining on a field of snow.

It is about a moment of absolute silence filled with such shattering clarity that the only thing you can do is stare in wonder.

It is about a void that is anything but empty.

Non-human friends.

I woke with a vicious migraine yesterday and spent a while leaning against V., who was working on hammering out the general anatomy and proportions of a species of being we all know several of, and Brand and I would like to have pictures of some of them, but can’t draw as well as V. can. We all know a fairly wide variety of types of people, who are often bipedal, but often put together very, very differently from each other (a digitigrade stance is slightly more common than a plantigrade stance, but that is about it). There are some mild similarities between some of them — enough so that the mental image can get a little garbled, and hence the collective hammering. Mainly about legs.

Brand suggested, “What about a cat leg, if you made it able to actually function upright?” and that was more or less the ticket, here, to start working out the right shape.

It was nice. These people we love so much, and have never had any real visual reference for, and no matter how clear one’s elsewhere vision is, it’s never perfect. I’ve always had a tremendously difficult time seeing their legs, perhaps because my human brain such as it is, could not latch on to any frame of reference for them other than ones that were incorrect, and so, because I knew it wasn’t right, I just didn’t see anything, in particular.

Things during the internet blackout.

For reasons known only to Time Warner, we had to wait two weeks for someone to come attach a coaxial cable to our modem and then to the wall. That was finally done.

In the interim, we read, V. did a large amount of knitting, I did quite a lot of praying.

I intend to keep that up, ideally forming a strong devotional and meditative habit that will form the backbone of my work for the rest of my life.

I’ve had a lot of unrelenting horrors related to my ptsd happening lately. I’ve never had nightmares like this before — not so many, and not so many days in a row. I’ve been dreaming about being raped since we came up here to look for apartments, in the middle of October. I’ve been having those dreams for a month, many more times a week than not. And lately it’s been every single night, and sometimes more than once. I had to crawl (literally) out of bed and to the door to the living room yesterday, deep enough in the flashbacks that I couldn’t walk or communicate much, but it seems like I looked so bad that V. was up and coming to hold me before I think I’d managed to say anything about what was wrong.

I hope to upload some of the things I wrote (though there is not as much of it as I would have liked, likely due to all of that) tomorrow, and then possibly start picking at the 30 days devotional meme going around. I won’t put any pressure on myself to do the posts every day. I’m not in any psychological state to take on a responsibility. But I would like to do the writing, because I think it would be good for me and good for our relationship. It will also be helpful if I take any of this nudging about working on a book seriously, because they’re nearly all appropriate topics to include and expand upon.

I would like to curl up on R for a few days. He’s had a lot going on lately and we’ve only seen each other a little, though I don’t begrudge him it: he’s primarily busy in a good and happy way. I do miss him, though, particularly due to his having been one of the few things in my life I could depend on, and all of the ptsd being so much like drowning.

I’ve had the “Do I need to go to the hospital?” conversation, but I don’t know what they could do for me. I’m not a danger to myself. My memory is a danger to me.

The Demigodspouse Edition

Brand’s parents, both being gods, seems to, according to the sort of genetics we learned in middle school, mean he is also one, but he is profoundly uncomfortable about the idea, and I sometimes refer to him as a demigod to aggravate him. It worked too well, here, for a title to go for the sort of politeness one would expect when discussion my best friend/lover/husband/twin.

I helped with the ceremony for Brand and V., and had my first (in my opinion, extremely awkward, but no one shares my opinion) foray into being a priest for other people.

They were there, very much.

It’s very silence-inducing, at least in the afterward, feeling them so strongly here, in such a way that I am confused by people who do not believe in any form of divine, or other, or at least more than we can know.

And then: the Eviction

Despite promises and long discussions and other things, our situation went from stable with long-term plans safely in place, to “You have six months to get out” in half a day.

And so, tomorrow, we begin at a frantic pace to try to get housing much sooner than six months because no one feels comfortable in a situation where many, many acquaintances are suddenly showering us with ill will and threats. Because we took V in. Because this deeply violated the boundaries and whatnot and all else of the woman whose house this is. The conversations we had about it, and the rent, and everything else were had while she was “in denial” that we “would ever do something like this to [her].”

I thoroughly cleansed and warded this room last night, and V slept much better, and longer than he had been, and woke up much more peaceful. I’ll keep it up for all of our sakes.

I’ve had a tremendous stress headache today, and people have been over downstairs, including one of the ones threatening us, so we’ve not budged except to creep to the bathroom. This is a fairly rare thing but makes it clear to me that we need to have some nonperishables on hand for the days when we need to avoid all contact with guests and therefore the kitchen until they leave. Thankfully, I suppose, my appetite disappears completely when I’m stressed, and I was the one awake the entire time.

They ordered dinner, and I put in for some safe food for us. Which, despite appetite issues, and being less than fond of some of the ingredients, I devoured it. Thank the gods for a stomach that has its own ideas, I suppose. I’ll make something in a couple of hours that I won’t find so disagreeable and maybe scrape into a not-starving arena of intake.

On Tuesday, we will be able to go shopping. I wonder if some semi-high calorie foods might be good for two of us. Something like nuts, which I can soak so my body will get along with them better, and are entirely good nutrition.

Brand is quiet, somewhat distant, trying to figure a way out of this situation and into something stable and safe sooner than yesterday. But he wrote a long post about Loki and Heimdall and various other things, that some people may find very interesting.

It was heavily recommended by my therapist that I ruthlessly practice shamatha and get the rest of them to do it, too, if we were going to stay anything resembling sane. I have some home study classes popping up that I should listen to, as well. Since Thursday, I haven’t been able to do anything but feel frozen in horror. Friday I did the Confession to the 35 Buddhas, Saturday was spent very frozen, and today has been… the wobbling needle on the richter scale.

My neck hurts in a shamatha-problematic fashion, because it seems to be demanding support beyond what my spine can give it, and I’m a notorious faller-asleeper when meditating propped up in bed. Maybe with my wavering focus and occasional wafts of terror, mantras might work out better.

It’s strange to reach towards one’s god and feel them very annoyed, or possibly angry, on your behalf, and I don’t really know how to react to it.

“Duh, of course he’s protective of you,” Brand says.

But he is withdrawn at the moment and the loneliness sits heavily on me. Likely to avoid potentially triggering me/causing me to feel unsafe, because angry people frighten me on a basic animal level. No matter how much they love me.