Fucking fake cheesecake 5.4.19

Possible culprit for my pain!!! I need to learn how to make a cleaner version of this at home anyway. It’s likely that the carrot juice AND this and probably something else caused the horrible pain yesterday. But I never know which is maddening! I’ll test them separately later, but now I’m scared to try them again. Hate that.

Possible culprit for my pain!!! I need to learn how to make a cleaner version of this at home anyway. It’s likely that the carrot juice AND this and probably something else caused the horrible pain yesterday. But I never know which is maddening! I’ll test them separately later, but now I’m scared to try them again. Hate that.

I had a lot of dreams last night. I used to always have a lot of dreams. But now I take so many herbal concoctions in order to sleep, I rarely remember if I’ve had them, let alone the details.

I haven’t talked about all my sleeping problems. That’s for another day.

One of the dreams I had last night, I was dying my hair and it was long again. It was should length. I was annoyed the entire time because I couldn’t get they dye to evenly distribute in my hair (I’ve been dying and cutting my own hair for years - I would have become a hair stylist in another life).

I remember thinking: ugh I wish I had short hair again, this is such a pain in the ass!

People have been asking me to help interpret their dreams for years. I love it. And NO I don’t go by the goofy interpretations you can find online. I talk about how the dream is significant in the person’s life.

I would guess this has to do with my unconscious toying with the idea of going back to some of my old ways, or at least revisiting the old me.

Hair represents the feminine in so many ways. It’s interesting because I gave myself the Mohawk (yes, it gets a capital M) a year ago exactly. I was SO scared to do it! Now, I’m shaving my head without a second thought. I think about shaving it all off too. Why not? Done it before, can do it again. I’d do it for a reason though! Highlight some injustice. Let’s see if that idea keeps resurfacing or not.

That’s how it works for me. Now that the artist self has MOSTLY taken over, I have creative impulses that keep tapping at my mind until I let them out. It’s very clear to me why so many artists struggle with mental health issues. Opening up the creative channels in the mind require opening all kinds of channels, which can be challenging. This is also for another day.

It’s not easy, but after years of not knowing how to curate my content, I think I’ve finally have a system down. Fuck. Only took 20+ years and 4 cancers. I’m sharing so much content on the Internet now. Recreating two rooms in this house. Recreating my identity in so many ways. Becoming a theater geek. A lot of creativity happening!

I think the dream is remembering the struggle of “being” that other person I was before. The one with the long hair. The one that was COVERING up my REAL SELF. Oooh that just came to me. This is why writing is so powerful. The words that flow out are often new to even me!

I’m messing around with my hair right now so it’s not surprising that I had that dream! I’ve always changed my hair a lot. It’s such a fun way to express myself and discover what I like, what I don’t like.

I know it’s hard for a lot of women to even consider cutting their long hair off. I love it. I’ve had a hard time making changes on an emotional level, but I love inviting change in my outer world. For me, long hair was usually economical. You can look through my photos from life and tell when I was doing well financially because I’d often have a shorter “do” which I could afford to upkeep. When it was really long, I was usually not doing so well in the money department. I’d trim the ends / cut the bangs and avoid the $100 haircut tab in NYC.

Now, I love it because I pay nothing and I get to be creative at my bathroom sink! I trim the top, shave it and dye it all myself. Now that I have the bandage and needle on my upper arm, it’s MUCH easier to wash my hair when most if it is shaved off. I don’t think I could even wash long hair in this new body.

It’s so strange how even little things like that: how am I going to wash my hair with a needle in my arm? is something that nobody helps you figure out. The home infusion center gave me these “bandage covers” but they suck balls, so I’ve had to invent my own covers.

I find it fascinating how how so many people with medical issues have to invent things for themselves. Yet, we’re often treated like we’re stupid! Hahahaaha. Disabled and medically fragile are often the smartest people I’ve met - they’ve HAD to be in order to simply survive. Yet, people at the top who have * only * developed survival skills in a society that’s rigged in their favor (which means they really have very few survival skills at ALL) have all these misconceptions about people lower in the food chain. Always assuming they’re smarter. I find that the strangest thing of all. Why would someone at the top have any idea on how to survive in a world they’ve never experienced?

So many people don’t even realize that they have un-conscious bias about disabled, poor, and medically fragile! Speaking of unconscious bias, I just checked to see how my podcasts are doing and the “Undoing Unconscious Bias” episode that I recorded early on with Marcella is suddenly one of the more popular episodes! Thank goodness. Everyone needs to get a handle on that in this country, including myself. There are still so many things that I need to learn! So many things I’m still so sleepy about!

I’m looking forward to interviewing another friend about racism in America during my next interview.

So much of my goal of the podcast is to “wake” people up. Of course, the judge-y people are like: oooh Julie why are you discussing those THINGS, you’re SO weird (yes, I’m SO bizarre for wanting people to find peace and happiness, what a fucking freak for wanting people to feel healthier).

Because I like to talk about the REAL shit. Also, so that we can normalize taboo topics. I’m still pretty pissed about what a rando wrote on my thread about the essential oils class I’m hosting with a friend. My friend is so amazing, I called and talked with her today about how to handle it.

The specifics aren’t what I’m annoyed about. What annoys me is how judgmental people are about judging how a sick person is trying to get through this fucked up world. It’s easy to sit in an able-body, in a nice home and criticize something I’m doing that may be related to survival. Or helping another friend’s business out.

But those same people are likely doing jack shit to help disabled people make a living, or improve the medical system, or advocate for them, or make sure we’re getting more than poverty level checks from our corrupt government.

I used to be super judgmental. I’ll admit it. I was the JUDGE-IEST and not one person in my life will disagree with that statement!

After what I’ve gone through, I’ve been humbled to my core. I realize I don’t know SHIT about someone else’s experience, their pain, their traumas, their addictions. I still have the judgmental thoughts, of course, but I TRY to let them float by, but sometimes fail!

I admit I’m still judgmental about what that woman wrote on my thread! But I was proud when Meg called afterward and said my response was perfect. Megan is the opposite of me - surprise surprise - level-headed and not hot tempered like me (and she was pretty pissed about what that woman wrote which is saying a lot). But if I get kudos from her (she happens to have a master’s degree in therapy btw, which is mainly why I haven’t gone completely bonkers these past few years, though she’s a natural even without the piece of paper), then I’m like YESSSSSS! I acted mature and kept my temper in check!

I guess the dream is a reminder that I don’t want to go back: to having long hair or being that other really emotionally immature person. It’s good to be reminded of that.

I think I forget how miserable I was back then. How living in denial and repressing my pain caused SO much depression and anxiety. How I wasn’t honest with myself about anything and therefore couldn’t create intimacy in any real way. How I wasn’t taking responsibility for how stuck I was. How I let anger fuel too many of my decisions instead of taking a step back and really examining what it was that was CAUSING the anger. How I didn’t communicate my needs and then got pissy when my needs weren’t met. How I did so many things that weren’t healthy.

Ahhh fucking cancer. You’re the worst and the best teacher of all time.

At least now, I’m on the right road. I may be crippled. And poor. And living with my folks. And not sure how long I have to live. And often in pain!

But my head is finally getting screwed on straight. Man, us humans really do resist change don’t we? Unless we’re forced. It would be so much simpler if we didn’t wait for crisis to truly examine ourselves. But alas, that’s often how it works. I’m still so proud of the episode that Paula and I made! I love that we focused on self-actualization, which is something I’ve aspired to for my entire life. I feel like it really helped me see how far I’ve come.

My conversation with her today, though, reminded me of how far I have to go! If I’m going to push myself out further on the Internet, I have GOT to let those people roll off my back. I’ve had to be a fighter for so much of my life - it’s so much of why I’m still alive! - it’s hard for me to turn it up and turn it off like I can do other things. It’s like training soldiers or boxers or whatever - to be super aggressive and then be surprised when they struggle outside of their work world.

I must learn how to modulate that better. And let things roll off me. Put on my “shit suit” as my mom calls it and imagine their comments and cruelty bouncing right off.

The best soldiers are the ones that can remain completely calm in the midst of complete chaos under attack. The ones who can think clearly and execute best course of action without getting distracted or emotional or giving into the pain of a wound.

If nothing else, this is what I’ve gotten better and better at over the last few years.

Training at surviving in this fucked up country as a marginalized person. It’s hard to explain how I’ve been FORCED to change. The system, it changes you. It’s so strange to me how this is so baffling to people that have known me for a long time. Not all of them, thank goodness! But many.

I’m not that same person I was before. The one hiding underneath the hair and the glasses and bland clothes.

I tried so hard to be Velma, Mary Anne whatever trope, pick one.

But that tough, bossy vixen always burrowed beneath saying LET ME OUT BITCH.

Ok, so I’ve finally let her out.

I’m going to look at each situation where people piss me the fuck OFF as a homework lesson. An opportunity to train myself to handle it as calmly as possible. This is why I look so much to black women for how to navigate the world as a badass queen.

It’s no wonder white dudes are struggling so much. It must suck to watch your societal stock plummet, and have very little survival skills in a world that has suddenly demonized you, after always experiencing feeling like a king.

I try to be benevolent. I really do.

But sometimes it’s tough! Especially on my diet!

It’s always bewildering to me when people antagonize me. It’s like when my siblings used to irritate my mom right before she ate dinner. I’d pull them away, don’t poke the hungry bear!!!

My mom’s family has those tempers…so does my dad. Plus red hair. Plus Spanish blood. Plus hunger. Plus dehydration (I’m so dry these last few days from the warmer weather ugh).

I love writing in here and saying whatever the fuck I want even if it’s stupid or random or isn’t the “best” writing. I used to be SO critical of my writing. This blog has been very liberating. Fuck it. If I’m dead in the next couple of years, I’d rather have my piss poor writing live on then no writing at all.

And there you have it.

The new me.

Not giving a fuck. Damn that took a long ass time.

“Liberation from shame” was the phrase from that new show on Netflix called Bonding . I love that phrase (even though I’m well aware that the BDSM community is very unhappy about the show, for example, dommes don’t wear collars, etc. how hard is it to hire a fucking consultant? More on this later).

For now, I must eat. I didn’t eat any eggs yesterday - all I had was one avocado and some broth. HUNGRY!

It’s a strange thing, though. Watching myself emerge from the cocoon, and not being sure what I’ll do next.

It’s been terrifying for a long time.

But now? I’m feeling more curious than scared about what I’ll do next. My own personal reality show. What will Jules do next?

I’ve been eyeing those domme outfits for the next photoshoot.

Oh yes I have. Hahahaahaaa. Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll do some old fashioned get up. Or maybe a combo. Or maybe none of the above.

Who knows? That’s the fun part. The anticipation.

Of discovering oneself.

Much love,

Jules