Brim

I have this undying urge to understand the motives of the people around me and why they do what they do. I even want to know why someone who is mean and hateful to me. I've been like since I was 4. That's when I first asked my mom why my teacher was mean to me. I wanted to know why she acted like I was moron and why she thought so little of me.
I found out. She did not believe in learning disabilities, she also believed there was only one right way to do things and that was her way. At age 4, I was never good at thinking inside box. I thought the box was boring. I found out later what her complaints about me to my mother were. She was angry I couldn't remember my phone number(we just moved there a week before. I did, however, know my address.). She was upset that when we were all sitting on the floor I would fidget and sometimes lay on my belly and prop my head up on my hands. She got upset that I put circle eyes on my paper pumpkin and not triangle. She would get upset when I sometimes used my left hand to write my name instead of my right. You know, I really wish I was making this up. I spent that year coming home crying. Not because of other children... Other kids liked me. I was the kid everyone went to. I was the one who stepped in between bullies and their prey.
I was already seeing a psychologist at that age because my mom wanted to be sure I understood that I was not the reason my parents got a divorce. Having a professional third party telling me the same thing she'd been telling me since day one. It's true, my parents did not get divorced because of me. They got divorced for reasons I won't talk about here. Let's just say my dad had some problems needed to deal with that he couldn't if he was married.
This brings me back to wanting to understand why people do things. It's a small comfort to me. Especially if realize that what someone is doing isn't because of hate or it isn't because they'd a bad person. Especially if they don't even realize they're doing it. The core thing about all people is they almost always think they're doing the right thing. And some people, after being shown they were wrong... they can't go back, especially in cases of shame, guilt and ego. Most people don't like being told the're wrong about big things.
We will often do the worst acts of our lives due to ego, guilt or the worse of all... revenge. Even petty revenge. "Oh this girl kicked my chair. She's mean. I'm going to kick her chair right out from under her. That'll teach her." Then later we find out that girl tripped. Or worse yet, tripped because she gets nervous around people she likes and you're the one she likes. She was trying to get the courage to talk to you because she thinks you're awesome. In finding all that out, most people find apologies are hard. Or they can't find a way to make it sound sincere. Their own doubts weigh in.
Sometimes those doubts are right. Maybe you missed your chance. The truth may hurt, but it's worth telling someone if you were at fault.
There are a few people in this world I don't get along with. I usually don't get along with them because I understand too much about them. I may understand something about their motives I cannot stomach. Usually, the people I don't get along with are ones who knowingly hurt others to make themselves feel better. It's one thing to be girl who tripped. It's another thing to go after her even after you understand it was an accident and to hold that grudge. Now, I know we're all guilty of that at some point in our lives but it's the ones who continue to do this time in again I don't tolerate.
I am more than guilty of being a mean person. I've done some shit I can't fix. I usually realize I was in the wrong after the fact. I'm getting better at avoiding this though... That's why I will sometimes suddenly pull away from somewhere for a couple days. It's usually because I can feel myself growing petty and I don't like it. So I pull back before it gets worse and if I can't pull back I tell the people I have to deal with that is going on. I tell them that everything is bothering me more than they should, even little things that shouldn't like finding onions on my hamburger when I ordered no onions. Most of the time I go FML and pick them off. When I'm swinging into that petty zone I will take the onions to mean no one cares about me. I usually catch these thoughts and go... "wait what" and realize something is wrong. When I realize something is wrong I try to get to the bottom of it. In may cases, it's just I'm an hour late in taking my meds.
I honestly have a little check list to run through when I start to feel that way.

1-Check the time. Did you take your meds?
2-Have you eaten? Did you have enough carbs? Did you eat more than one meal?
3-Have you drank anything? Is you blood pressure crashing?
4-Have you gotten enough sunlight? Where is your sunlamp?
5-Have you talked to anyone today? In person or on the phone?

*-Is something else bothering you?

Usually I get it resolved before the end of the list. That last question though, is one I sometimes ask first... then run through the list, then I ask it again. If * is still true, I deal with it. I talk to someone or vent about whatever the hell it is. Lately, I've had a lot bothering me as my last post can attest.

Yesterday, I suddenly got really bad. Everything bothered me and made my mood worse. Even people being happy made me unhappy. It took me a while to get out of it and I'm still not completely better. My mood is in a very fragile state. I have to ask those five questions every few hours.

Right now, there are a lot of things bothering me. A lot of things I can't do a damn thing about. I don't usually talk on the phone for two reasons... I won't shut up at whoever I'm talking to(hi, phone bill, how are you?) and when I lived at home... my sister. Crazy person did not like hearing sounds from my room.

Both those points aren't an issue now. I think... I'll bother people on the phone again.

Anyway, for now. I have to go to get more paper work done and do laundry at my mom's. I just needed to tl;dr.

This is not my only journal. I have two others. One, is strictly IRL friends, family and my very first fandom. I've had that journal since 2003. No, I won't tell you what it's called. Journal number two is strictly a fandom journal that I use to track various fandom comms on LJ. I also use it to comment in those fandom comms. I also use it to track my other role play characters... yes, I have others. No, they aren't listed here. No, I won't tell you the name of that journal either.

That brings us to journal number three. Technically speaking, it's a sock. Sort of. I find myself actively using this journal more than the other two. Why I created brimsd is very simple. I wanted to join a sex rp. It's not that I'm bashful about my kinks, I'm really not. It has nothing to do with wank. Most people don't know who I am even when I'm logged in to my other two journals.

It has everything to do with stalkers. Yes, stalkers.

Long ago, before I RPed on LJ. I joined a sex rp. I enjoyed it there, I had fun there. There was one painful downside... apparently, I was good at what I did. I played a male Dom. Good Doms are hard to find. I started getting recommended by word-of-mouth to people I didn't know. People I didn't care to know. Strangers began to message me, asking for sex. Which isn't bad except for one thing, four messages a day. A day. None of these people were terribly good RPers either, they were the most unimaginative cold fish I have ever encountered.
To avoid being bothered every time I logged in, I put a notice in my profile stating that I would not respond to OOC offers. Because seriously? It started to get old. I didn't get to actually RP, everyone wanted to talk to me OOC. The character I played allowed for IC offers.
He was the type of guy, you could walk up to, tell him your dirtiest kinks... and he would smile and ask how he could help you with that. He liked to find out what turned people on and he liked talking to people.
Long story short. People began to bother me in my personal journal, my personal website, my personal everything, asking for sex. Like I was some magical sex god who was the only one who could Dom them right. I don't respond well to ego stroking or ass kissing.

All of that? While annoying, I usually can deal with. This journal is to keep people out of my personal business but still allow them to get to know me.

What I cannot tolerate, what I do not tolerate, is one thing... do not proclaim your undying love for me because our characters banged. Once. Saying it in jest is one thing, but saying you honestly, really, really do love me IRL... is enough to make me want to shoot you in the face with buckshot made of knives.

Look, it's great you enjoyed our sex scene together. But that doesn't mean I like you OOC, it means I like your character. Assuming I have the same emotions as my character is enough to make me want to hunt you down, and rip out your throat with my teeth.

So... in closing.

This journal is here because I was harassed by jackasses who thought because my character boned them once, that they were now entitled to all my time. This happened more than once. Five times. Five times. And countless numbers of times I slammed them down into the pavement before they got any ideas. But five people didn't understand the word "No."

I can rant forever about that place. I really can, I was there six years. I still sometimes go back to have fun with a few good friends.

Also, I used to play a female Dom too. I didn't keep her long because of similar harassment reasons. Oh, yes, and this one guy who was convinced she was secretly a sub. He never would leave me the fuck alone until I blocked his ass.

Anyway, that's the reasoning behind the journal. Preventing harassment before it starts and keeping it contained. There are a precious few who can easily figure out the names of my other two journals. But that requires that you actually know me. I'm not hiding from my friends, I'm hiding from the idiots.

My friends can follow the trail of breadcrumbs and figure it out. And if you can't? No big deal. My other journals aren't that interesting. They're a lot like this one.

...My current music is absurdly fitting for this topic.