but i'll sit real still, if you don't tell
Wednesday, November 14th, 2012 09:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
erikaOh, hey, so I realized the other day that I have more squicks than I thought, thanks to an awesome conversation with treeperson where we bonded over horrible movies.
So I'm going to post a general disclaimer about: what triggers me, what squicks me and what I have a 'phobia' of, since people on dw (yay!) are so generally awesome about wondering about this.
I put phobia in quotes because I have no actual diagnosed phobias aside from um, agoraphobia (it's a long story), so this is really discussing the watered-down idea of 'phobia' as "something you can't stand to hear discussed", not "something you can't stand to the point of avoiding any situation which might include the phobia" which is the more clinical description, I think——except for agoraphobia which I mention briefly.
(People on lj, I still love you, don't worry, you're all awesome, and I'm going to keep crossposting until either all of you move to DW [not holding my breath!] or LJ shuts down, BUT I'm not really adding anyone on LJ anymore so ... everyone who still reads this journal over there has known me basically for years at this point and I doubt anyone reading this via LJ will be surprised by anything I say here.)
That having been said:
This entry contains general descriptions of material that is triggering or squicky or intensely-bad-reaction-making to me personally.
If things bother you that don't bother me, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop warning for them. My warning policy remains the same. (Link goes to a poll & entry posted on dreamwidth which wasn't crossposted to LJ because I no longer have a paid account there.)
I also want to say that in this entry, I'll be talking about my personal reactions to triggering or squicky material. That doesn't mean that if I say "I have a back button and I should've used it" that I think that's what you should do. NO. I am not saying that at all. It is not a judgment of you if you have major reactions to triggers or squicks that you can't control. That's why I warn in the first place.
I care about my readers and consider a great many of them personal friends. Yes, of course I want my friends' support, but I don't want them undergoing mental anguish if this is a subject that causes them such and they're not in a place where they can handle that. Clear? I really do hope so, 'cause this is so sensitive for many people for good reasons.
I guess the good news is nothing really triggers me. I guess a long description of someone's actual real-life assault could be problematic, but in such a case, I'd probably either skim or just skip to the bottom and leave a comment (if enabled) saying something supportive. Seriously. I don't blame people for having triggers, but ... I went through abuse, I've been sexually assaulted, and unfortunately, many of my friends have experienced one or both of those things as well. Because I'm open about stuff like that, I get a lot of people talking to me about it personally. If it ever triggered me, it's been a long time.
I also volunteered for a sexual assault survivors' advocacy agency. That meant, in my case, that if I were on shift: I would get a call and literally then go to the hospital and talk to women directly after they had been sexually assaulted. I then (in all 4 or 5 times that I did this) stayed with the woman and supported her and advocated for her during whatever time she wanted me there.
Advocation included possibly: staying during the entirety of any medical examination, explaining in common language any medical choices that she made (with the doctor there to correct me, of course, but many times it's easier to hear things like that translated out of jargon), talking with any significant people in her life and giving them very general information if she would like me to do so, or most of the time just saying "yes, [name] is inside. I don't know when she'll be done, but I know that she's glad you're here. Thank you for being supportive."
There was unfortunately one time that I had to deal with a friend in the exam who ended up coming along hoping to be supportive and got triggered. Another time the woman was still drugged and drunk, and I seemed to be the only person in that room she wanted to trust because we were both women of color.
None of that was remotely easy, but I could do it, and I believe I did it well.
(Fwiw, the agency also had staff members [both male and female] who were available to advocate for cisgendered men or any trans* person who had been assaulted, but staff took care of that need entirely, so that's why I used female pronouns through that entire thing.)
Anyway, moving on from that volunteer experience, I also read a lot of fanfic, and I think I've read something once in the last ... 3 years (ish?) that actually triggered me. It was about abuse undergone as a child, for the record. I have a back button for a reason, and in that case, I wish I could've used it, but it was really my own fault for assuming I'd just be okay. I take responsibility in that case; the author warned, I should've listened, I didn't, my bad.
Basically, what this means is I effectively don't trigger—I suppose if someone just randomly started graphically describing something problematic with NO lead in, I might, but who even does that? Certainly not anyone I've ever run into on DW or LJ.
Um, I'm having a hard time warning for this stuff because it's all squicking me out, so if you can't stand solid bodily waste (ugh), or sounds/smells coming from the butt or sounds from the vagina (particularly MINE, AJSDLK;FJASKLDFJ;) or embarrassment (JESUS CHRIST NO)——— GO AWAY, PLEASE, SAVE YOURSELF, I'M MAKING MYSELF WRITE THIS BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ IT.
In the discussion below, I also mention but do not discuss vomit as a reaction to my squicks; it doesn't happen to be one of them.
I also mention my agoraphobia, but that's not triggered by anyone else talking about it, so... I can talk about it freely, I just can't physically BE in a place where that is a concern.
There's also talk of anal sex and a lot of keyboard mashing when words fail me. Whee!
Alright, so my squicks/phobias are the following:
Gastrointestinal details involving um, the exit of solid waste material or the solid waste itself or anything to do with it—oh god, I just shuddered even writing that——ew ew ew—or the after-effects.. . alkjsdf;lakjdf;lkajdf no no no no no no. This is basically on the level of a phobia or a trigger for me, to be honest. Because of the nursing classes I've taken, I've gotten over my "this is going to make me vomit" response, but ... no. JUST NO. STOP. I DON'T WANT TO KNOW.
Some people have had decent conversations with me about this stuff but they basically have to warn me ahead of time and I have to check myself as to whether I can handle this on any given day. It's really, really difficult for me to deal with. I basically go about my life pretending that anything involving the toilet doesn't exist once one leaves the bathroom.
Note: Josh did not close the bathroom door the first few times we shared a room. I think I saw that and started like, screaming. No one who's been around me for any length of time has ever called me calm and rational when dealing with this squick, jsyk.
This makes conversations with my non-mental-health doctors difficult, as I still have a residual side effect from metformin that involves this particular thing.
Interestingly enough I've had and enjoy anal sex but my rule from the beginning is always
J;lakjsd;lkfa;ldskjf I NEVER WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS AGAIN.
Um. So yes. Sounds, bad smells, etc, emanating from playground/waste disposal area between one's waist and upper thighs*. That's gross. Just, no. No. No. This particular squick is way worse for stuff that happens to come from my area than from anyone else, interestingly enough, but seriously, just say "excuse me" the first time it happens that day and we'll agree to politely ignore any other times that happen.
Unless the fart is from a dog, and then it's hilarious. I don't know why that is. Maybe because dogs can't get embarrassed.
*This is my attempt to not use the words groin, crotch, etc. They don't squick me but they're just gross words. THIS ENTRY IS BASICALLY HELL FOR ME; I HOPE YOU ARE APPRECIATING THIS, whoever's still reading.
While we're talking about sound-stuff from the "area", vaginal queefing (oh goddddd whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy does this even have a word I hate everything)——for the love of god no NEVER MENTION THAT I HAVE DONE THIS, which, unless you're fucking me, unlikely, so THE REST OF YOU, FEEL FREE. Again, this is only my vaj. The rest of you may gleefully sound off and even write about it without bugging me (unless you're embarrassed by it, because I'm basically going to read that with my hands over my eyes like I'm watching Dr Who or something), but I think this ties in with my last squick of embarrassment, because it embarrasses me personally.
Okay, here's the last thing: I don't find embarrassment funny; it's basically a phobia of mine. I find it humiliating, and even watching other people be embarrassed is really sad-making to me. I can deal with someone writing about it, especially if I have any kind of relationship with the person and they're not writing about it as a joke, but ... akja;lskdjf WHY IS THIS CONSIDERED COMEDY. IT'S NOT FUNNY. THEY'RE ASHAMED AND HUMILIATED.
I also have (diagnosed) agoraphobia. It's not claustrophobia. It's being somewhere that's not "safe" that I can't escape. Seriously. I cannot cope with being locked up in any form. Sometimes even just sitting in a room where the exit isn't easily reachable can be really problematic for me.
This one isn't ever triggered by other people talking about it, which is good, but it does mean that I avoid the hospital even when I should go there for my mental health, which is ... bad. My mental health team knows about it and we have plans in place, including my List Peeps (love you) but ... just never ever put me in a situation where I can't leave.
oh my god I am never talking about any of this again
unless you want to comment, in which case, FEEL FREE, just ... you know. No details. Plz.
treeperson where we bonded over horrible movies.So I'm going to post a general disclaimer about: what triggers me, what squicks me and what I have a 'phobia' of, since people on dw (yay!) are so generally awesome about wondering about this.
I put phobia in quotes because I have no actual diagnosed phobias aside from um, agoraphobia (it's a long story), so this is really discussing the watered-down idea of 'phobia' as "something you can't stand to hear discussed", not "something you can't stand to the point of avoiding any situation which might include the phobia" which is the more clinical description, I think——except for agoraphobia which I mention briefly.
(People on lj, I still love you, don't worry, you're all awesome, and I'm going to keep crossposting until either all of you move to DW [not holding my breath!] or LJ shuts down, BUT I'm not really adding anyone on LJ anymore so ... everyone who still reads this journal over there has known me basically for years at this point and I doubt anyone reading this via LJ will be surprised by anything I say here.)
That having been said:
This entry contains general descriptions of material that is triggering or squicky or intensely-bad-reaction-making to me personally.
If things bother you that don't bother me, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop warning for them. My warning policy remains the same. (Link goes to a poll & entry posted on dreamwidth which wasn't crossposted to LJ because I no longer have a paid account there.)
I also want to say that in this entry, I'll be talking about my personal reactions to triggering or squicky material. That doesn't mean that if I say "I have a back button and I should've used it" that I think that's what you should do. NO. I am not saying that at all. It is not a judgment of you if you have major reactions to triggers or squicks that you can't control. That's why I warn in the first place.
I care about my readers and consider a great many of them personal friends. Yes, of course I want my friends' support, but I don't want them undergoing mental anguish if this is a subject that causes them such and they're not in a place where they can handle that. Clear? I really do hope so, 'cause this is so sensitive for many people for good reasons.
I guess the good news is nothing really triggers me. I guess a long description of someone's actual real-life assault could be problematic, but in such a case, I'd probably either skim or just skip to the bottom and leave a comment (if enabled) saying something supportive. Seriously. I don't blame people for having triggers, but ... I went through abuse, I've been sexually assaulted, and unfortunately, many of my friends have experienced one or both of those things as well. Because I'm open about stuff like that, I get a lot of people talking to me about it personally. If it ever triggered me, it's been a long time.
I also volunteered for a sexual assault survivors' advocacy agency. That meant, in my case, that if I were on shift: I would get a call and literally then go to the hospital and talk to women directly after they had been sexually assaulted. I then (in all 4 or 5 times that I did this) stayed with the woman and supported her and advocated for her during whatever time she wanted me there.
Advocation included possibly: staying during the entirety of any medical examination, explaining in common language any medical choices that she made (with the doctor there to correct me, of course, but many times it's easier to hear things like that translated out of jargon), talking with any significant people in her life and giving them very general information if she would like me to do so, or most of the time just saying "yes, [name] is inside. I don't know when she'll be done, but I know that she's glad you're here. Thank you for being supportive."
There was unfortunately one time that I had to deal with a friend in the exam who ended up coming along hoping to be supportive and got triggered. Another time the woman was still drugged and drunk, and I seemed to be the only person in that room she wanted to trust because we were both women of color.
None of that was remotely easy, but I could do it, and I believe I did it well.
(Fwiw, the agency also had staff members [both male and female] who were available to advocate for cisgendered men or any trans* person who had been assaulted, but staff took care of that need entirely, so that's why I used female pronouns through that entire thing.)
Anyway, moving on from that volunteer experience, I also read a lot of fanfic, and I think I've read something once in the last ... 3 years (ish?) that actually triggered me. It was about abuse undergone as a child, for the record. I have a back button for a reason, and in that case, I wish I could've used it, but it was really my own fault for assuming I'd just be okay. I take responsibility in that case; the author warned, I should've listened, I didn't, my bad.
Basically, what this means is I effectively don't trigger—I suppose if someone just randomly started graphically describing something problematic with NO lead in, I might, but who even does that? Certainly not anyone I've ever run into on DW or LJ.
Um, I'm having a hard time warning for this stuff because it's all squicking me out, so if you can't stand solid bodily waste (ugh), or sounds/smells coming from the butt or sounds from the vagina (particularly MINE, AJSDLK;FJASKLDFJ;) or embarrassment (JESUS CHRIST NO)——— GO AWAY, PLEASE, SAVE YOURSELF, I'M MAKING MYSELF WRITE THIS BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO READ IT.
In the discussion below, I also mention but do not discuss vomit as a reaction to my squicks; it doesn't happen to be one of them.
I also mention my agoraphobia, but that's not triggered by anyone else talking about it, so... I can talk about it freely, I just can't physically BE in a place where that is a concern.
There's also talk of anal sex and a lot of keyboard mashing when words fail me. Whee!
Alright, so my squicks/phobias are the following:
Gastrointestinal details involving um, the exit of solid waste material or the solid waste itself or anything to do with it—oh god, I just shuddered even writing that——ew ew ew—or the after-effects.. . alkjsdf;lakjdf;lkajdf no no no no no no. This is basically on the level of a phobia or a trigger for me, to be honest. Because of the nursing classes I've taken, I've gotten over my "this is going to make me vomit" response, but ... no. JUST NO. STOP. I DON'T WANT TO KNOW.
Some people have had decent conversations with me about this stuff but they basically have to warn me ahead of time and I have to check myself as to whether I can handle this on any given day. It's really, really difficult for me to deal with. I basically go about my life pretending that anything involving the toilet doesn't exist once one leaves the bathroom.
Note: Josh did not close the bathroom door the first few times we shared a room. I think I saw that and started like, screaming. No one who's been around me for any length of time has ever called me calm and rational when dealing with this squick, jsyk.
This makes conversations with my non-mental-health doctors difficult, as I still have a residual side effect from metformin that involves this particular thing.
Interestingly enough I've had and enjoy anal sex but my rule from the beginning is always
"look, I'll warn you if it's going to be a problem and I know about it, but otherwise, use a condom if the idea of" (ew ew) "matter grosses you out and if you personally choose not to, that's your choice but I am never ever going to want to hear about any repercussions of that.
"Additionally, if you ever try to put anything that's been in my ass anywhere else on or in my body without effectively cleaning it to the highest degree possible, I will break up with you so fast your head will spin and quite possibly vomit on you in the bargain."
J;lakjsd;lkfa;ldskjf I NEVER WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS AGAIN.
Um. So yes. Sounds, bad smells, etc, emanating from playground/waste disposal area between one's waist and upper thighs*. That's gross. Just, no. No. No. This particular squick is way worse for stuff that happens to come from my area than from anyone else, interestingly enough, but seriously, just say "excuse me" the first time it happens that day and we'll agree to politely ignore any other times that happen.
Unless the fart is from a dog, and then it's hilarious. I don't know why that is. Maybe because dogs can't get embarrassed.
*This is my attempt to not use the words groin, crotch, etc. They don't squick me but they're just gross words. THIS ENTRY IS BASICALLY HELL FOR ME; I HOPE YOU ARE APPRECIATING THIS, whoever's still reading.
While we're talking about sound-stuff from the "area", vaginal queefing (oh goddddd whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy does this even have a word I hate everything)——for the love of god no NEVER MENTION THAT I HAVE DONE THIS, which, unless you're fucking me, unlikely, so THE REST OF YOU, FEEL FREE. Again, this is only my vaj. The rest of you may gleefully sound off and even write about it without bugging me (unless you're embarrassed by it, because I'm basically going to read that with my hands over my eyes like I'm watching Dr Who or something), but I think this ties in with my last squick of embarrassment, because it embarrasses me personally.
Okay, here's the last thing: I don't find embarrassment funny; it's basically a phobia of mine. I find it humiliating, and even watching other people be embarrassed is really sad-making to me. I can deal with someone writing about it, especially if I have any kind of relationship with the person and they're not writing about it as a joke, but ... akja;lskdjf WHY IS THIS CONSIDERED COMEDY. IT'S NOT FUNNY. THEY'RE ASHAMED AND HUMILIATED.
I also have (diagnosed) agoraphobia. It's not claustrophobia. It's being somewhere that's not "safe" that I can't escape. Seriously. I cannot cope with being locked up in any form. Sometimes even just sitting in a room where the exit isn't easily reachable can be really problematic for me.
This one isn't ever triggered by other people talking about it, which is good, but it does mean that I avoid the hospital even when I should go there for my mental health, which is ... bad. My mental health team knows about it and we have plans in place, including my List Peeps (love you) but ... just never ever put me in a situation where I can't leave.
oh my god I am never talking about any of this again
unless you want to comment, in which case, FEEL FREE, just ... you know. No details. Plz.
