Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2002-09-17 11:37 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2002-09-17 11:37 pm
Not surprisingly...
... the immediate "in love" feelings for Votania have simmered back down to a comfortable "if ever she decides she is interested, she has but to say the word", and "I could spend the rest of my life happily keeping house with this woman", just like it was before.
I have a strong probably-more-than-suspicion that the "in love" part of the feeling stemmed from my perception of her rising stress level, or something more esoteric, clueing me in that I needed to be very much attached to her, Right Now.
And sure enough, the stress level got past that threshold level, and that's when body and mind decided to say, "OK, enough of the bullshit; you are realizing just how damn bad that job is if we have to put you in the hospital to make you realize it."
This is not the first person I've seen writhe and thrash and have madly flailing eyes and unsafely unsteady breathing when the pressure of the mind builds too high to be withstood. Those times, though, it was crystal clear to all spotters involved, the nature of the cause, and the nature of the mind-trip, and that hospital-standard modern medicine would be less than clueless about the cause, or the fix of it, until the patient came to, and by that point, everything would be fine -- or the patient wouldn't come to, with soul and body dissociated. I'd never dealt with that before; left to my own devices, unknowing of the history, I might have called 911 as well, and been perfectly justified.
From what I heard, though, this time was a much scarier episode, with body and mind overstressed, a war between a strong sense of duty and a stronger sense of self-preservation (that job would drive anyone insane!), a war using the body and mind as battleground, with all the stresses of the past gods-know-how-long used as ammunition. This time, it was beyond local expertise.
We hung on to her. Marx was there the whole time; he hung on hardest. I got there late: reinforcements, I suppose. Precisely on time? We hung on, and she came back, and she's back, and we're so glad.
I still, of course, love her. A lot. Not surprising, as she's Inner Circle. I love my parents a lot, too. Except, with my parents, I don't leave the option for "more than friends" open on my side. Not going to happen, of course: she's straight, and that's not one of those rules that has many exceptions, and I doubt I'd be that exception for her. Don't know if there's a woman born who'd be that exception. I don't mind. We're sisterfriends, and that's excellent, now that body and mind have made their point.
I have a strong probably-more-than-suspicion that the "in love" part of the feeling stemmed from my perception of her rising stress level, or something more esoteric, clueing me in that I needed to be very much attached to her, Right Now.
And sure enough, the stress level got past that threshold level, and that's when body and mind decided to say, "OK, enough of the bullshit; you are realizing just how damn bad that job is if we have to put you in the hospital to make you realize it."
This is not the first person I've seen writhe and thrash and have madly flailing eyes and unsafely unsteady breathing when the pressure of the mind builds too high to be withstood. Those times, though, it was crystal clear to all spotters involved, the nature of the cause, and the nature of the mind-trip, and that hospital-standard modern medicine would be less than clueless about the cause, or the fix of it, until the patient came to, and by that point, everything would be fine -- or the patient wouldn't come to, with soul and body dissociated. I'd never dealt with that before; left to my own devices, unknowing of the history, I might have called 911 as well, and been perfectly justified.
From what I heard, though, this time was a much scarier episode, with body and mind overstressed, a war between a strong sense of duty and a stronger sense of self-preservation (that job would drive anyone insane!), a war using the body and mind as battleground, with all the stresses of the past gods-know-how-long used as ammunition. This time, it was beyond local expertise.
We hung on to her. Marx was there the whole time; he hung on hardest. I got there late: reinforcements, I suppose. Precisely on time? We hung on, and she came back, and she's back, and we're so glad.
I still, of course, love her. A lot. Not surprising, as she's Inner Circle. I love my parents a lot, too. Except, with my parents, I don't leave the option for "more than friends" open on my side. Not going to happen, of course: she's straight, and that's not one of those rules that has many exceptions, and I doubt I'd be that exception for her. Don't know if there's a woman born who'd be that exception. I don't mind. We're sisterfriends, and that's excellent, now that body and mind have made their point.
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Mind you, saying that 'in love' means 'love in a romantic sense' isn't an acceptable answer for a poly person. *G* I could name quite a few people I love in a romantic sense, that I would be more than happy to go to bed with if the opportunity arose. I'm *in love* with rather fewer. Namely, one, so far. I've only been in love once, in my entire life. I thought I was "in love" with my first husband, but it turns out to have been only love. The differences between the way I feel about Chris and the way I feel about Mark...would take a while to explain, but they're very clear and distinct. It's *different*, not just stronger. Categorically different.
Figure it out. You need to know. You're adding to your own stress level unnecessarily.
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