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cecilspeaks · 7 years

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113 - Niecelet

Gooooooood eevening, fine citizens. I’m your late night host this week, here to keep you company after sundownn.

Welcome to Night Vale!

As you regular listeners already know, I took over the night shifts this week, because I’ve been spending my days with a very special house guest. Well, more like one and a half house guests. My favorite cousin Sabina is visiting, and she’s 7 months pregnant with what will be my second ever niece. Well, my first ever niece once removed. First ever niece once removed? That takes too long, let’s do – “niecelet”.

My sister’s daughter Janice is a teenager. It’s been so long since I’ve had a new baby in my family so, if you hear a certain knowing, avuncular quality in my voice, it’s because you are listening to an expecting uncle. I’m already getting some of those leather patches sewed onto the elbows of my windbreaker.

All week, Sabina and I have been reading baby books, and I am a veritable expert at this point. A baby at 7 months is as big as an eggplant. She can already get the hiccups and déjà-baby-vu, and has a fully developed sense of comedic timing. I’m holding an eggplant with me here in this studio to practice supporting her neck. Also to make sure I have something to eat when I get home. Sabina’s cleaned out the fridge pretty thoroughly.

Back at my place, Sabina’s been keeping the radio on 24/7, so the niecelet will know the owner of this dulcet baritone already loves her very much. Hello, almost-niece!

Doing all this reading together, it seems crazy to learn just how vulnerable we are, when we first enter the world. Did you know that a newborn doesn’t even have kneecaps yet? That it has a hole in the top of its skull, which must be taped shut so the newborn does not escape through it during the night? It’s amazing any of us survive to the shaming ceremonies at all!

Speaking of rites of passage, the annual Night Vale Science Fair is scheduled for this Monday night. Every fourth grader is expected to report to the Rec Center for a fun-filled evening of free programs and live demonstrations. Organizers say the kiddos will have a chance to make a 1:1 scale volcano, that spews real ash and molten igneous rock. They’ll learn how a pile of pennies can be transformed into a battery, simply by taking those pennies to Walgreens and exchanging them for a pack of Duracell double A’s. They’ll learn about about centripetal force by pouring a bucket full of water, and then filling out a worksheet on centripetal force. They’ll plant a bean sprout in a Styrofoam cup that won’t disintegrate until their grandchildren have set off on exploratory missions to find another planet that can support bean sprouts.

Hmm, what else might be on the Community Calendar this week, you ask? Well, let me work at my own pace over here, OK pal? Like all jobs worth doing, this one takes focus and patience. You can’t just rush through it. As my optometrist says, “measure twice, cut once, then do the left eye.” So I guess that’s really measure four times total and cut two times, but I had an astigmatism so I ended up just sticking with contacts anyway.

Sooo.. [papers rustling] let’s see here. [clears throat] M-h-h-h-hmm, this week’s events. On Tuesday night, head over to the Band Shell to hear a set from Ouroboros, the rock band that only plays covers of their own songs. Wednesday, Ablution in Fresca to celebrate the start of the Andorran New Year. Thursday is Thirsty Thursday. Consume no liquids. You’re gonna get real thirsty! Friday has been indefinitely delayed by weather at O’Hare, and is now pleading with a United representative for a hotel voucher to avoid sleeping in a plastic chair in Concourse C.

Early morning on Saturday, we are in for a rare astronomical treat. The Earth will fully eclipse the Sun, blotting out its light completely, so that only a ring of wispy blue remains visible against the blackness. Now this eclipse will not be observable on Earth, of course, and to our knowledge there is no planet on which this phenomenon could be observed. There’s just nothing on that particular vector in space, but at 4:13 AM on Saturday morning, the total eclipse will occur, and that blue corona will shine softly in the dark, like a delicate smoke ring. And that dim blue halo will represent the entirety of us. Our dramas, dreams, and disappointments. The first ride without the training wheels. Our 8th grade dances. Our double Windsors and our veils, our sleepless nights in waiting rooms. Our rush hour commuters, our dozing through recitals til the one we love goes on. Our crying in the car as the one we love leaves home. Just that thin filament of blue, on which we wage our peace.

The on Sunday, tacos and gun safety with Three-eyed Bill at First Methodist.

Stay tuned, savvy listeners, for in a moment I’ll be sharing Night Vale’s third quarter economic development report. To my knowledge, we’ve never had an economic development report before for any quarter, but the press release looked official, and we all know that new municipal arms of government form all the time. Arms that then pull back to be reabsorbed by the government shoulder from which they sprouted.

But before crunching those numbers, a quick message from today’s sponsor. Equinox Gym. At Equinox, we focus on the whole body. Particularly, the soft and vulnerable parts of that body. Stop by our windowless complex today to meet with a dietician about this month’s promotion, the Zima cleanse. Or for even faster results, nothing torches calories like our calorie torch. Also, new members this week to Equinox receive 60 days of free access to our popular Judgment Spa. This has been a word from our sponsor.

[booming voice] Now to business news. Whoa! Did that sound unusually powerful to you? Ooh, I sorta took myself by surprise there, like I grew a suit or something! [chuckles] [clears throat] The Night Vale Economic Development Board, or NV-ec-dev-B for short and cumbersome, sent a press release at the closing bell of the Night Vale stock exchange. The bulletin said that futures are down, way down. Although the recent past is trading briskly. In response to declining levels of interests, NV-ec-dev-B plans to incentivize consumer spending. At the start of tomorrow’s business day, they’ll launch an abject prompt campaign of xenophobia, branded as nationalism, branded as civic bride, branded as a 2008 F150 Ford truck with satellite radio, air conditioned seats, and a heavy-duty hitch to haul away whatever it is you’re trying to hide.

So make plans this weekend to head out towards the used car lot with your hands in the air and your checkbook in your mouth, to meet with a sales person about financing options. You might be surprised by how few years of indentured servitude can you get you behind the wheel of a Ford truck.

You know what cars make me think of? Well, Carlos. I guess, but everything makes me think of Carlos. And his name is an anagram of “Lo cars”. He’s out of town at Erlenmeyer Flask Con this week, and I miss something fierce! But what I was going to say is that the thought of buying a car reminds me of my niecelet! It’s extraordinary to think that she’ll be a teenager some day, getting her driver’s permit, then her license, then her crossbow - going through all of these phases we all pass through. It’s like there’s a future attached to her already. Inside Sabina, there’s a baby, and seated inside the baby there’s the toddler. And within her are the blueprints for the girl. And soon, she’ll be out here learning to play the sitar and considering vegetarianism, then voting and buying lottery tickets. Well, those are the same thing really. And I’ll get to bear witness to this blooming life. Some day, she might even decide to have a niece of her own.

[tearily] Oh, OK. Um, something is in young Cecil’s eye over here. Ooh! Hang tight, team, I’m just gonna run out and grab a bunch of tissues from the supply closet to remove this bothersome… [key turns in lock, falls down] OK, listeners, I must admit I’m in a state of concerned agitation here. When I tried to open the door of the studio, the handle – came off in my hand and and and and when I went to reinsert it, I found that the hole was (tamped) full of soft hot tar, which cannot be up to code. So now I find myself in a small, soundproof, airtight room with a doorless handle in my left hand and a handle-less door before me. I’m uh… Huh… I’m- I’m I’m uncertain of just how to proceed, uh, I can’t imagine there’s more than a few hours’ worth of oxygen in here, even if the studio’s potted fern works double duty on converting the carbon dioxide.

Oh man and of course, I left my phone in my jeans in the other room, you know, after I changed into my professional radio hosting unitard. I, OK, I need some time to assess the situation.

I’ll leave you to the weather.

[Weather: "If We Live" by Disparition]

OK. OK, OK, alright calm down, calm down Cecil, calm down, and you can beat this. be like the patient viper who does not strike until his prey is upon him. [sharp exhale] Be like the praying mantis whose head is a guitar pick. Keep your heart rate low and your focus steady, and good God, sit down, man. Save your strength. Breathe deep enough to get the air inside your brain and think. What would an uncle do?

Hmmm. Hummmmmmmm. [getting faster and higher] Hmmmmmmmmmmm, hmmmmmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmmmmmm… Oh! OK, I’ve got it. Easy, I just need one of you to come and open the door. [chuckles] OK, here I am behaving like I’m alone, but of course I’m not alone, ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, I’ve got all of Night Vale listening. Ooh, that is a relief! Come to think of it, I imagine hundreds of you may be on your way already, and I can’t have the whole town rushing over all at once. That would cause traffic jams, hysteria, straightline winds gusting up to 60 knots. [laughs] If you’re on your way, just shoot quick flare into the sky, so that everybody knows you’re the one on the way. M-more importantly so that I know you’re on the way.

You guys, it’s like 8 PM, you’re not all in your PJ’s yet. Just need one person to make the trip. It’s like an 8-minute drive from your apartment, come on! Is… Is no one listening? I mean, the memo from management at the last all-staff meeting did mention low late night ratings but – this is not low, this is talking into a tin can on string whose other end is tied to a fire hydrant at the bottom of the sea, this is utter futility, this is falling in the woods and no one’s there to hear you. This is not seeing the Cecil for the trees, this is – Kafka meets Becket and tells him to talk to the hand. This is – stop, full stop. Cecil. [deep breath] This indignation does me no good at all. Just burns through my oxygen supply, which is running low already. This rate, I’ll never survive until the morning commuters tune in. Just think, Cecil. Think like an uncle.

Ooh. That’s it! There is at least one person listening. Babies never sleep thru the night, right? So you, niecelet, you should be able to hear me. Tho I imagine the sound of my voice may be muffled by the blankets on the guest bed and Sabina’s abdominal muscles. Alright, niecelet, I need you. We’ve got to find a way to wake up Sabina. I need you to kick, brace your little elbows on the soft wall behind you and really kick! Aim for a spot under the ribs, that roof of bone above you. And again. [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! [pants rhythmically] Kick! Good, again! Now give it everything you’ve got this time! Sabina, wake up! This is an emergency! Wake u-

Oh. The station phone is ringing. God I forgot we even had this. uh caller, you’re on the air.

Sabina: Hey, Cecil. The baby was keeping me up and I turned on the station and-

Cecil: Sabina! Oh, thank God you’re awake! No, no it’s not a shtick, listen. I am trapped in the studio and I just need someone to open the door from the outs-

Sabina: Oh OK, I’ll be right there. But I’m starving, I may stop by Subway for a mashed potato and Nutella sandwich.

Cecil: No, please come now! We’ve got snacks in the breakroom pantry.. I think. I’ll set you up with some (gorb and gevilta) fish.

Sabina: Alright. Hey, did you know that there’s a faceless old woman living in your home? She keeps trying to put lotion on my belly, while I’m sleeping.

Cecil: Yeah, she does that. Listen, my spare office keys are by the lucky cat. See you soon, and thank you Sabina!

Sabina: Hey, enough with the lotion, lady!

Ooooohh. And thank you, niecelet! At negative two months old, you’ve already saved a life! And somehow I get the feeling mine might be just the first of many. If you need bailing out of a tight spot some day, you know who to call. I’m the baritone you can count on any time, kid, day or night shift.

Ahhh, man! I can’t wait for that door to open so I can get a lungful of fresh air. Oh, it’s funny how small a room can feel when you’re not allowed to leave. Oh, sorry I [chuckles] forgot who I was talking to for a second. Well, as soon as you’re out here breathing air yourself, I’m getting you a pair of cleats and a pair of baby shinguards and a baby cape, too. I can’t wait to meet you, little hero of a niecelet! But first, I’m making your mother some midnight eggplant parmesan.

Stay tuned next for the sounds of a door opening, a rush of oxygen-rich air, and a wheezing celebration of an overworked respiratory system. Aany second now. Aaaany second. Aaaaaanyyyy secondd.

[long silence]

Today’s proverb: Follow your heart. You need it. Where did it ever learn to walk?

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wntv transcripts #episode 113 #niecelet

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balarsen22 · 7 years

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5/25: therapy and other things

I met with moorman and Goodrich earlier about the bursoscopy study I'm doing, they seem really happy with the progress I've made so far. We also talked about thinking of externships and thinking of where to go for internships, and that publications would help me stand out. Dr Goodrich had the idea that maybe I could present the neck paper at acvs in October if dr Barrett and dr story aren't going, because that would be super good for me. The abstract would be due on Wednesday, so I have some work to do this weekend! I left the meeting super motivated and was really productive all afternoon. In therapy I started off talking about just about anything that had happened the last few days, because I really didn't want to read the journal entry about last session Jessica has asked me to do out loud. Eventually I ran out of things to talk about though. I had written: "When the guilt and shame take over my brain like that, I hate myself so much that I can't even talk. all I want to do is crumble and hide. I was doing all I could during last session not to shut down completely. I couldn't stop the thoughts that killing myself would fix it all from popping into my head, that maybe I could just leave him his own specific suicide note instead, and then that I wish I had the guts for it. but we’ve already established I’m a cowar, and I didn’t want Jessica to take it as a threat so I didn’t say anything. Every single time we talk about all the stupid and manipulative shit i’ve done and all the lies I’ve told I feel like that my immediate reaction is that I should just shoot myself. hell, all i have to do is think about it and the thought that I should just kill myself pops into my head, and its louder than anything else. It takes over my brain, and its really hard to ignore sometimes. And even once I can get past those thoughts, all that there is is more hate and blame towards myself, and I struggle to talk about that too. I couldn't stop thinking about how I am such a needy attention seeking piece of shit. I really fucked up. I fucked everything up. and it's all my fault. I only have myself to blame. The more we discussed it, the worse I felt. All my life wanting attention has had such a negative connotation associated with it. Saying that someone just doing something for attention is shaming and insulting. and then here I am: . I did all this crazy shit just to get attention, and I just hate myself for it. This entire mess is my fault. I hate that I’m like this. I hate that I let myself get like this. I hate that I’m so fucking sensitive. I hate that I feel everything so strongly. I hate that every time I get stressed or overwhelmed I get that little voice in the back of my head telling me I should just die. I hate that I always seem to overthink everything. I hate that I get panicked over such insignificant shit. I hate that I’m such an unstable mess. I hate that I can’t seem to have relationships and that I can't get myself to communicate and socialize with people like a normal fucking human being, even though would like to. hell, I have to read fucking journal entries out loud because I can't ever seem to be able to get words out to explain what’s actually going on in my head. And then once I do, if I can, I end up regretting it and am filled with shame. I end up beating myself up about it for saying anything at all. And sometimes I’m still just not able to make myself say something, even if I want to say it, and then I just get even more frustrated with myself because I’m just letting the fear and shame and guilt take over and turn me into even more of a coward than what I already am. Part of me wishes I could stop hating myself. I wish I could stay focused on recovery and improving myself. I wish I could stop wanting to die. I wish I could move on and forgive myself. But a much larger part of me, says that I don’t deserve to get better, not yet at least. I don’t deserve forgiveness, i don’t deserve kindness, i don’t deserve to be forgiven. I wish people would be angry with me. Honestly, I wish someone would just physically beat the shit out of me for being like this. I need to be punished for what I did. I need to be punished for letting myself become the person I am now. And while I have definitely been punishing myself, I feel like I haven’t finished my serving my time yet. If I am going to forgive myself I probably will need to apologize to Casey in some way, or at least try and make it right with karma or something, but I’m really afraid of possible legal repercussions and stirring shit up for him. And there’s the possibility of social repercussions too. The people that I’ve told seem to understand, but this isn’t something I want to go public. It would completely fuck up my career, and that would completely destroy me. The idea of being a vet is what kept me holding on for so long, especially when I believed no one actually gave a shit. But another part of me is saying I should just do it and if there’s legal repercussions thats what I deserve and then if I end up getting kicked out of school or publicly humiliated I could finally just kill myself and be done with dealing with all of this shit. And another part of me says I should just kill myself first, and leave him a note apologizing. Because I’m so fucking tired of fighting this war in my head all the time. Logical me and emotional me are having a fucking smackdown 24/7. And it’s so fucking shit like not only do I have to fight to get better, I have to fight like hell to feel like I even deserve to get better. And at the same time I’m trying to fight the idea that it’ll never be okay no matter what and I’ll never actually get better anyways no matter how hard I fight, so why even bother putting myself through this? And on top of this, I’m really trying to figure out how I ended up terrified of getting close and being vulnerable with people and yet craving having that intimate connection constantly all at the same time. I wish I could be different, but I constantly feel like a burden. I constantly feel like I should leave people alone and they’d be happier that way. I constantly feel like I need to be making up for the mistakes I’ve made in all of my relationships, and that if I fuck up anymore I wouldn’t get another chance and they’re going to leave. I don’t feel like an actual person. I just feel like this thing thats there, that just takes up too much space. I hate that I’m like this. Also, its so frustrating that I usually can’t cry. Most of the times that I really feel like I’m going to and need to, the tears just won’t come out, so I just stare blankly into space while feeling like my entire soul is being crushed and my heart is breaking into pieces. When that happens, theres no tears, no sound. Just pain. Its worse than crying. And then everything is just building up instead of being let out, and eventually I’ll crack over something insignificant. And when I do I’m afraid of doing something stupid that ends up hurting people. I hate how fragile I feel. I hate it all. Its so stupid that I can’t seem to internalize the positive and brush off the negative, but its so easy for me to do the opposite. honestly, sometimes I want to cry just because I’m me. I don’t know why I’m like this. I know better, I know that it’s wrong, but for some reason I still did it all anyways. All I can see is that there’s really nothing that has happened in my life that would explain it, so I’m stuck with the conclusion that there’s just something fundamentally wrong with me as a person. I'm too sensitive and too awkward and if I wasn't such a coward about things I would be different. If I was stronger, or if I was more assertive, or if I was smarter, I wouldn’t be like this. I don’t know how I let it get this bad and how I could end up hurting other people so much. I never wanted to hurt anyone. That was the last thing I wanted to do. But it happened because I’m like this. It happened because I couldn’t keep my shit together. And it makes me scared to even know about the risk of hurting animals just for attention. I’m horrified at the thought of it, but I also never thought I’d become a liar and a needy little attention seeking piece of shit either. I’m not the person I should be, that I had thought I would become. I never have been. Somehow I’m supposed to forgive myself for all of this shit. How am I supposed to just forgive myself for being this way? For letting myself become this? I don’t see how its possible. I know I’ll never actually get better if I don’t change, and thinking this way is just going to keep me in this never ending cycle. but I’m stuck in this mixture of shame and guilt and frustration and sadness and fear, and there’s nothing and no one besides myself to blame. I brought it all on myself, because I wasn’t strong enough and I’m a terrible person, because I couldn’t have figured out how to be fucking normal. I just wish I could’ve been normal, and it’s all my fault that I’m not." She didn't comment much on what I said. She asked about what happened when I first developed the trauma narrative, and all the events that followed. I was silent. She said that she thinks we need to know how it all started if we're going to figure out what caused it. I said that I've realized that the trauma narrative wasn't the first thing factitious had done. She said she wanted to hear about it, but I couldn't speak. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't get the words out. She said that she knew all along that I knew I had been living a lie, but that she also knew I wasn't ready to face the shame. She thinks I'm ready now. I don't think I am. We spent the majority of session in silence. Eventually I told her to have me journal about it and read it next time. She said only if I would talk after. I was hesitant, but I agreed. She asked why I couldn't tell her. I am just too ashamed. She said that she's not going to judge me, whatever I tell her will stay with her. But ever since she called me a coward I've just been a little hesitant. I told her that, and at first she thought I meant that I thought she meant she thought I was a coward for not going through with the suicide, instead of how she meant it as being a coward for not getting help when I need it. And my first reaction was to say yes, because I had considered it, even though I know she would never tell me to do that. She seemed really offended- she's stuck with me and worked really hard to earn my trust. She said she would probably have to pick a new career if I ended up killing myself, she's pretty invested in me by now. I apologized and said I know that, and I'm trying not to think like that. It was more that I felt like she was calling me a coward in the other aspects of my life too, that she secretly thought I was a coward for everything I was telling her. She said she didn't say it that way. I thought that's what she meant though. I took it that way. And I know she didn't mean it like that and i still trust her, like I had just read a really personal journal entry with her and I keep doing so, but it still makes me hesitate and I couldn't get past it today. She said that when I read it on Monday I can stop at any time and ask her what she's thinking. And then we ran out of time (because I had spent the majority of session in silence). I left feeling like absolute shit about it. I texted her 2 hours later and said "Sorry I didn't talk and wasted your time today. I really did try, the shame just won. And I'm sorry I can be such a difficult client, and for taking what you said the wrong way. I'm journaling about it now, so if you have an opening and would rather talk tomorrow let me know." She replied that wasn't a waste, and that she has a weird schedule in the afternoon waiting on the cable guy but she would call me if he came early enough. I spent the night writing about all of the shit I've done and the shit I've said, and all the shit I can't seem to stop lying about. Roller derby was punchies focused since we have a bout Saturday. It was a slight disaster, but it got better as the night went on. I just want Saturday to be over with so I can be done with punchies bouts and done with being a captain. I never want to be a captain again. I got blown up by wonder and hurt my lower back, and then I had just taken the jammer panty and had hit bull over, but then tripped on her as I got hit and landed on her wheel in the exact spot that gives a Charlie horse. I left feeling super down and discouraged again.

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