Working towards publishing a long overdue post on the events post-Vibecamp, but I’ve felt like I need to uncork some writing muscles before it can be finished.
Agency is a word that is overused by the Twitter intelligentsia, but it’s still useful. A few years ago, someone told me that I was unusually agentic. I think that’s true for the same reasons someone once described me as Courtney Love-esque.
Symptoms of PTSD from being sexually assaulted at Vibecamp in 2022 didn’t manifest until very recently, and it’s really changed my outlook on agency.
The resurgent biohacking movement is all about achieving agency over aging. HRT for transgender people is all about agency over gender. Transhumanism in general can be viewed as developing agency beyond what’s considered ‘normal’.
I was really lucky to find a great therapist on my first try, and she told me about a trick to regulate a nervous symptom when PTSD strike: Sour candy.
I still get a bit of social anxiety sometimes, but it’s mostly just an annoyance. Some friends always have headphones with them to deal with theirs, I have my own ways of dipping out to recharge somewhere at a party. It’s like some low level of electrical interference that’s somewhat easily dealt with, and far from agency-stealing.
I don’t remember which event PTSD first hit at, but it was scary. I can only really describe it as that feeling when you’re scared by something or someone unexpected, but prolonged and constant.
My usual tricks didn’t work that first time, and I never would have thought sour candy would be the sacrament that would stop agency thieving.
I had prepared for the party for months, and mainly forgot to bring it because I’m probably still in a little bit of denial over being a SA survivor as part of my story now. It’s taken a few experiences of having my typical excess of personality and desire for social interaction short-circuited to remind me in a powerful enough way.
Very recently I’ve come to think of agency as control over telling our own stories. It’s difficult, being on the spectrum, to thread the needle between cool-weird and weird-weird. It’s somewhat of a performance as well.
I have a separate post to write on ethereal women: I think I would have been one, had I been born a biological woman. They’re whom I both admire deeply and am intensely intimidated by. Grown up theatre-kids, they’re the S-tier of quirky.
Our identities are as much a product of how we are perceived as who we are, and I am really determined to wield as much agency as I can get my hands on to dig that inner ethereal woman out. I’m excited to see what she’ll eventually be like, other than an addict to sour candy.
Working towards publishing a long overdue post on the events post-Vibecamp, but I’ve felt like I need to uncork some writing muscles before it can be finished.
Agency is a word that is overused by the Twitter intelligentsia, but it’s still useful. A few years ago, someone told me that I was unusually agentic. I think that’s true for the same reasons someone once described me as Courtney Love-esque.
Symptoms of PTSD from being sexually assaulted at Vibecamp in 2022 didn’t manifest until very recently, and it’s really changed my outlook on agency.
The resurgent biohacking movement is all about achieving agency over aging. HRT for transgender people is all about agency over gender. Transhumanism in general can be viewed as developing agency beyond what’s considered ‘normal’.
I was really lucky to find a great therapist on my first try, and she told me about a trick to regulate a nervous symptom when PTSD strike: Sour candy.
I still get a bit of social anxiety sometimes, but it’s mostly just an annoyance. Some friends always have headphones with them to deal with theirs, I have my own ways of dipping out to recharge somewhere at a party. It’s like some low level of electrical interference that’s somewhat easily dealt with, and far from agency-stealing.
I don’t remember which event PTSD first hit at, but it was scary. I can only really describe it as that feeling when you’re scared by something or someone unexpected, but prolonged and constant.
My usual tricks didn’t work that first time, and I never would have thought sour candy would be the sacrament that would stop agency thieving.
I had prepared for the party for months, and mainly forgot to bring it because I’m probably still in a little bit of denial over being a SA survivor as part of my story now. It’s taken a few experiences of having my typical excess of personality and desire for social interaction short-circuited to remind me in a powerful enough way.
Very recently I’ve come to think of agency as control over telling our own stories. It’s difficult, being on the spectrum, to thread the needle between cool-weird and weird-weird. It’s somewhat of a performance as well.
I have a separate post to write on ethereal women: I think I would have been one, had I been born a biological woman. They’re whom I both admire deeply and am intensely intimidated by. Grown up theatre-kids, they’re the S-tier of quirky.
Our identities are as much a product of how we are perceived as who we are, and I am really determined to wield as much agency as I can get my hands on to dig that inner ethereal woman out. I’m excited to see what she’ll eventually be like, other than an addict to sour candy.
wrote this https://paragraph.xyz/@ivy/agency-sour-candy
wrote this https://paragraph.xyz/@ivy/agency-sour-candy
You did well Whichever way just believe in yourself Always But since you really want to dig out that ethereal woman then I wish you luck on that And yes shout out to sour candy for always coming through But I believe it’ll get better soon !🖤