As you may have noticed, I have a bit of a deep, dark streak in me. Generally I suppress it, hide it, and try to play happy-fun-light girl instead. It comes out mostly in my writing. I've tried to write funny, entertaining things, but it doesn't work very well. People don't get my sense of humor. So I think sticking with the dramatic, serious, emotional, sensitive, etc. is probably better for me...except no one wants to read that. Therefore, I think that maybe I should stop writing all together for a while. No one really gets me at all...writing, speaking, or silent. My voice is not one people want to hear/read. I'm going to try to accept that fact and find something else for my whole life to be about. My heart just isn't in it anymore.
So where does one find new passion when old passion has died?
01 July 2011
Ay, there's the rub
if i went away, would you search heaven and hell to find me? and if you found me, lost in the dark abyss of hell, completely out of my mind, would you try to convince me it's not where i belong? would you try to get me out, carry me back to the light? and if you couldn't, if i still didn't understand, if i still wouldn't trust you, wouldn't leave, would you sit down beside me, and lose yourself in my darkness just so you wouldn't have to be for eternity without me?
I think about that sometimes. Will anyone ever love me and need me that much that they would be willing to give up everything rather than living without me? I just got done reading the Hunger Games and this idea was sort of brought back to the forefront of my mind. Peeta was willing to go through hell and give up everything to save Katniss. Some friends recently read What Dreams May Come and have been talking about it, which is where this idea sort of originated in me in the first place. Now don't go jumping to conclusions, I'm not lost in the darkness, not on the verge of hell; just lazing in the shade a little too much these days I suppose. I can think of a few people in my life right now that I would sacrifice everything (including my sanity) for. There are maybe two or three that I would search heaven and hell to try to save. I don't think any of them would do so for me though. So it's good that I'm not in any real need of such drastic displays of love and loyalty.
Sorry, this is sort of a morbid and depressing post. I guess it's the hangover from the morbid and depressing books I just read.
In happier news, the boy I recently referred to as Will is actually sort of living up to the name these days. Not quite to the extent I would like, but enough that I think I'll let the name stay. Last night I asked for a moment of his time. When we were alone he asked what was on my mind. I told him I just wanted to sit with him for a few minutes. I was unsettled and he has a calming affect on me. So he sat by me and we talked about books; nothing significant, nothing important, just books we've read or books we want to read. Then he hugged me and I went on my way.
This morning he sent me a text asking how I was doing. That was a Will thing to do, be there in the moment (even though he was so tired), and then check up on me the next day, make sure I was better. I wasn't better until I got his text. Knowing he was there, knowing he cared enough to think of me, to check up on me, made it better, made another day bearable.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
(Hamlet) William Shakespeare
"For in that sleep of death what dreams may come"
I have Will, and The Artist, and they help me hold on to the dream that one day, someone will love me entirely and allow me to love him...through heaven and hell.
I think about that sometimes. Will anyone ever love me and need me that much that they would be willing to give up everything rather than living without me? I just got done reading the Hunger Games and this idea was sort of brought back to the forefront of my mind. Peeta was willing to go through hell and give up everything to save Katniss. Some friends recently read What Dreams May Come and have been talking about it, which is where this idea sort of originated in me in the first place. Now don't go jumping to conclusions, I'm not lost in the darkness, not on the verge of hell; just lazing in the shade a little too much these days I suppose. I can think of a few people in my life right now that I would sacrifice everything (including my sanity) for. There are maybe two or three that I would search heaven and hell to try to save. I don't think any of them would do so for me though. So it's good that I'm not in any real need of such drastic displays of love and loyalty.
Sorry, this is sort of a morbid and depressing post. I guess it's the hangover from the morbid and depressing books I just read.
In happier news, the boy I recently referred to as Will is actually sort of living up to the name these days. Not quite to the extent I would like, but enough that I think I'll let the name stay. Last night I asked for a moment of his time. When we were alone he asked what was on my mind. I told him I just wanted to sit with him for a few minutes. I was unsettled and he has a calming affect on me. So he sat by me and we talked about books; nothing significant, nothing important, just books we've read or books we want to read. Then he hugged me and I went on my way.
This morning he sent me a text asking how I was doing. That was a Will thing to do, be there in the moment (even though he was so tired), and then check up on me the next day, make sure I was better. I wasn't better until I got his text. Knowing he was there, knowing he cared enough to think of me, to check up on me, made it better, made another day bearable.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
(Hamlet) William Shakespeare
"For in that sleep of death what dreams may come"
I have Will, and The Artist, and they help me hold on to the dream that one day, someone will love me entirely and allow me to love him...through heaven and hell.
28 June 2011
Too Long
It's been a long time since I've written anything worth reading. My latest inspiration is not inspiring anymore. He's more a life raft these days, keeping me afloat, rather than the wind beneath my literary wings. I need to make some changes. The other night I realized that I've been drifting too long, it's about time I start paddling again.
23 June 2011
adrift and untethered they wander
I have been feeling a little fractured recently. For the last year or so I've had a pretty stable group of friends. I've had groups of friends before, and I've had them disperse before. This time, though, the dispersal is not really the same, and it's been kind of disconcerting for me. A few people went one way, a few went another, all joining or formulating other groups. I was kind of the hub, the organizer, the motivator of the group, now I'm, what? I don't feel like I'm really part of any of the new groups. I'm a drifter, sometimes invited, sometimes included...and sometimes forgotten or simply unwanted? I'm still friends with my former group members individually, but I don't really have a place in any of their new social circles. I try to fit in, feel comfortable, be myself, but I don't really go along with any of the new dynamics.
I was just coming to terms with being a leader, now no one is following. Other, more commanding leaders have pushed me aside. I've never wanted to be a leader, so generally I'm okay with this. However, I always tried to help everyone in the group feel wanted, included, cared about. The new leaders are not that way. Most of the time I feel tolerated at best, unwanted and excluded at worst.
I don't really want a new group. I don't want to make new friends. I like the friends I have and generally I'm content with the one-on-one time I have with these friends. I'm grateful for the friends who care enough about me to not neglect me or forget me, regardless of other friends and social groups they find.
I was just coming to terms with being a leader, now no one is following. Other, more commanding leaders have pushed me aside. I've never wanted to be a leader, so generally I'm okay with this. However, I always tried to help everyone in the group feel wanted, included, cared about. The new leaders are not that way. Most of the time I feel tolerated at best, unwanted and excluded at worst.
I don't really want a new group. I don't want to make new friends. I like the friends I have and generally I'm content with the one-on-one time I have with these friends. I'm grateful for the friends who care enough about me to not neglect me or forget me, regardless of other friends and social groups they find.
22 June 2011
I hope that something better comes along
When the anxiety gets overwhelming, I need to remind myself that if I just hold on another moment things will get better. I've been holding my breath, frustrated and panicked, incapable of talking myself out of the fear. But then, with one text message, my lungs deflate and my pulse slows. Another text reassures me that my fears have been for nothing.
I wish I hadn't been busy tonight. Book group was really great, and I've enjoyed all the time I've spent with the girls recently, but after a few more texts I realized that his request to watch a movie, may have been a request for his own reassurance of sorts. He's not good at asking outright for what he really needs. And my fears were still in control of my thought process so I figured others would be there too (others I don't particularly want to see at the moment). But I think it may have been just the two of us.
He said it was ok, that he needed to just chill and sleep tonight anyway, but I felt bad for not being there for him, for not understanding his request, and for allowing fear to hold me back from giving what was needed. I need to be better at that. I need to replace my fear with faith and love. I love him, but I've been so afraid of being replaced or of him just deciding to not want me or need me anymore, that I've been distracted and less aware of his needs and requests. I'm changing my attentions and awarenesses. He's not going anywhere. He wants my friendship and love. So I'm going to give it without fear or selfishness. And better things are sure to come along.
I wish I hadn't been busy tonight. Book group was really great, and I've enjoyed all the time I've spent with the girls recently, but after a few more texts I realized that his request to watch a movie, may have been a request for his own reassurance of sorts. He's not good at asking outright for what he really needs. And my fears were still in control of my thought process so I figured others would be there too (others I don't particularly want to see at the moment). But I think it may have been just the two of us.
He said it was ok, that he needed to just chill and sleep tonight anyway, but I felt bad for not being there for him, for not understanding his request, and for allowing fear to hold me back from giving what was needed. I need to be better at that. I need to replace my fear with faith and love. I love him, but I've been so afraid of being replaced or of him just deciding to not want me or need me anymore, that I've been distracted and less aware of his needs and requests. I'm changing my attentions and awarenesses. He's not going anywhere. He wants my friendship and love. So I'm going to give it without fear or selfishness. And better things are sure to come along.
19 June 2011
You are not alone, I am here with you, and we'll get lost together until the light comes shining through
I was wrong. He isn't Will. In fact, I'm about convinced that Will doesn't exist for me at all. I realize he's based on a fictional character, or a mixture of fictional characters, but I know people who have their own version of the friend for whom I've been hoping and searching most of my life. For some, he's a brother who is always there to give comfort, advice, encouragement, or to say or do just the right thing to bring out a smile. For some it's a father, an uncle, a cousin. For others it's just a friend; someone they met along the way who decided to keep sticking around to share love and life. I'm not talking about romance here. I'm talking about soul friends.
Anyone who has been around, reading my blog, for a while has heard me use this phrase before. I thought the weasel was a soul friend. Then I thought Bobpi was a soul friend. I was very wrong on both accounts. And now I'm wrong again. He doesn't need me, doesn't even really want me. I'm not significant to him...easily forgotten (out of sight, completely out of mind). If I was suddenly not around anymore, he may notice eventually, but it would take him a while. It was a mistake to think he cared, just because he showed up and said he cared...people say a lot of things, then change their mind when the moment ends. We've barely had any contact since last Monday night. He's too busy to remember me, too busy to care anything about me. Soul friends don't forget. Soul friends are never too busy to care and acknowledge.
So, I'm giving up on this idea of a soul friend. I'm giving up hoping that there is a person out there somewhere who will love me so deeply and purely that they are always there for me and always need me to be there for him. I'm giving up on the idea and the hope that someone will care enough about me to know me entirely and stick around to love me anyway. A friend like that doesn't exist for me...and I'm pretty sure a husband like that doesn't exist for me either.
I guess I keep thinking of What Dreams May Come. I'm in the dark right now. I'm struggling and on the days I don't work it's all I can do to get out of bed before noon. I'm so tired and so weary and I've completely lost my passion for anything (including writing)...because what's the point in caring about anything when you have no love in your life, no one really caring about you...or worse yet, no one to care about? In the movie, the woman is stuck in a hell of insanity, she is lost in the darkness and her love comes to find her and save her. When he finally realizes that he can't convince her to leave with him, he decides to give up his own sanity to stay with her. I'm not that far gone. I'm just struggling a little right now (nowhere near the verge of suicide) but it would be a lot better if I knew someone really and truly and deeply cared about me...and needed me to care about him.
This has been weighing so heavily on my mind and heart recently that I think I must be on the verge of something. I thought I had found my soul friend. Now I see that's not the case (most likely will never be the case). But maybe it's something else...some sort of career path or something. I don't know. I need to make some decisions, one of which is to be more than okay being alone because it seems that's how it's going to be for quite a while longer. How do you decide to be content, even happy, alone?
Anyone who has been around, reading my blog, for a while has heard me use this phrase before. I thought the weasel was a soul friend. Then I thought Bobpi was a soul friend. I was very wrong on both accounts. And now I'm wrong again. He doesn't need me, doesn't even really want me. I'm not significant to him...easily forgotten (out of sight, completely out of mind). If I was suddenly not around anymore, he may notice eventually, but it would take him a while. It was a mistake to think he cared, just because he showed up and said he cared...people say a lot of things, then change their mind when the moment ends. We've barely had any contact since last Monday night. He's too busy to remember me, too busy to care anything about me. Soul friends don't forget. Soul friends are never too busy to care and acknowledge.
So, I'm giving up on this idea of a soul friend. I'm giving up hoping that there is a person out there somewhere who will love me so deeply and purely that they are always there for me and always need me to be there for him. I'm giving up on the idea and the hope that someone will care enough about me to know me entirely and stick around to love me anyway. A friend like that doesn't exist for me...and I'm pretty sure a husband like that doesn't exist for me either.
I guess I keep thinking of What Dreams May Come. I'm in the dark right now. I'm struggling and on the days I don't work it's all I can do to get out of bed before noon. I'm so tired and so weary and I've completely lost my passion for anything (including writing)...because what's the point in caring about anything when you have no love in your life, no one really caring about you...or worse yet, no one to care about? In the movie, the woman is stuck in a hell of insanity, she is lost in the darkness and her love comes to find her and save her. When he finally realizes that he can't convince her to leave with him, he decides to give up his own sanity to stay with her. I'm not that far gone. I'm just struggling a little right now (nowhere near the verge of suicide) but it would be a lot better if I knew someone really and truly and deeply cared about me...and needed me to care about him.
This has been weighing so heavily on my mind and heart recently that I think I must be on the verge of something. I thought I had found my soul friend. Now I see that's not the case (most likely will never be the case). But maybe it's something else...some sort of career path or something. I don't know. I need to make some decisions, one of which is to be more than okay being alone because it seems that's how it's going to be for quite a while longer. How do you decide to be content, even happy, alone?
14 June 2011
say the words, sometimes i just need to hear the words
He came over at 10:45 at night because I needed him.
Yesterday was a bad day. I woke up with a migraine and anxiety, feeling completely insignificant and unnecessary. I've felt displaced, in limbo; that place between an ending and a beginning where the air is too thin and at the same time too thick to breathe. I feel claustrophobic, confined, stuck. I've been afraid that a new friendship means he doesn't want or need me anymore. I've tried to be friends with the new friend, but it's like when Bobpi started dating his now wife, I cared too much about him so I tried to be friends and let her know that I wasn't a threat and she didn't need to veto me, but she didn't try at all, she wanted me out. He didn't even fight for me. Now I know this situation is a little different, it's all on the friendship level on all accounts, but my fear has been overwhelming. I'm not ready to be without him, but his new-ish friend does not seem to like me one bit. I feel like she tolerates me because we have mutual friends, but she certainly has made little to no effort to be friendly. I don't know what to do with people like that. I try to be friendly and kind, but they don't try at all.
Anyway, I finally voiced my feelings and fears tonight. I told him I was terrified of losing his friendship, that since he found a new friend to spend his time with, he wouldn't want me or need me anymore. He said he's not going anywhere. He said he cares, that I'm important and that even though we haven't been friends all that long, he considers me a very dear friend. He needs me, wants me, and trusts me. He said I'm a good friend and that my loving and needing him makes him feel better about himself.
When I was 16 or so, life was too much for me to handle alone. I was in a horribly dark place and I needed a lifeline to pull me back from the sharp edge I was standing on. That's when I started writing. I created alternate realities for myself, places I could escape into where people loved me, understood me, accepted me, and never left me. In that place, I created one friend in particular. I have been praying and searching for that friend my entire life. I thought I found it once in the weasel, but he ended up being quite the opposite instead. My favorite TV show of all time is Alias, more because of Sydney's relationship with one person in particular than for any other reason. Will Tippin is in almost every way the embodiment of my imaginary perfect friend. So, from now on when I refer to this dear boy who came over tonight and talked with me until I was calm and comforted (even though he was so tired and has to be up early in the morning) I'll call him Will.
I know, and I have known for a while that he cares, that he's not going to just up and leave me or hurt me in any way. I know he loves me and values our friendship. But sometimes (as I told him tonight) sometimes I just need to hear the words coming from his lips in his voice. So when I feel anxious about it, I'll have his words in his voice to play over the doubts and fears in my head. Sometimes it's not enough to know a thing, sometimes it's takes a tender moment of kind and loving reassurance to set my mind and heart at ease. Thank you, my dear, sweet Will for giving me your words tonight.
Yesterday was a bad day. I woke up with a migraine and anxiety, feeling completely insignificant and unnecessary. I've felt displaced, in limbo; that place between an ending and a beginning where the air is too thin and at the same time too thick to breathe. I feel claustrophobic, confined, stuck. I've been afraid that a new friendship means he doesn't want or need me anymore. I've tried to be friends with the new friend, but it's like when Bobpi started dating his now wife, I cared too much about him so I tried to be friends and let her know that I wasn't a threat and she didn't need to veto me, but she didn't try at all, she wanted me out. He didn't even fight for me. Now I know this situation is a little different, it's all on the friendship level on all accounts, but my fear has been overwhelming. I'm not ready to be without him, but his new-ish friend does not seem to like me one bit. I feel like she tolerates me because we have mutual friends, but she certainly has made little to no effort to be friendly. I don't know what to do with people like that. I try to be friendly and kind, but they don't try at all.
Anyway, I finally voiced my feelings and fears tonight. I told him I was terrified of losing his friendship, that since he found a new friend to spend his time with, he wouldn't want me or need me anymore. He said he's not going anywhere. He said he cares, that I'm important and that even though we haven't been friends all that long, he considers me a very dear friend. He needs me, wants me, and trusts me. He said I'm a good friend and that my loving and needing him makes him feel better about himself.
When I was 16 or so, life was too much for me to handle alone. I was in a horribly dark place and I needed a lifeline to pull me back from the sharp edge I was standing on. That's when I started writing. I created alternate realities for myself, places I could escape into where people loved me, understood me, accepted me, and never left me. In that place, I created one friend in particular. I have been praying and searching for that friend my entire life. I thought I found it once in the weasel, but he ended up being quite the opposite instead. My favorite TV show of all time is Alias, more because of Sydney's relationship with one person in particular than for any other reason. Will Tippin is in almost every way the embodiment of my imaginary perfect friend. So, from now on when I refer to this dear boy who came over tonight and talked with me until I was calm and comforted (even though he was so tired and has to be up early in the morning) I'll call him Will.
I know, and I have known for a while that he cares, that he's not going to just up and leave me or hurt me in any way. I know he loves me and values our friendship. But sometimes (as I told him tonight) sometimes I just need to hear the words coming from his lips in his voice. So when I feel anxious about it, I'll have his words in his voice to play over the doubts and fears in my head. Sometimes it's not enough to know a thing, sometimes it's takes a tender moment of kind and loving reassurance to set my mind and heart at ease. Thank you, my dear, sweet Will for giving me your words tonight.
13 June 2011
What Are You Going to Do?
I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted
But I want to be with you
So if you’re not the one not wanting me
What are you going to do?
It may just be my paranoia, it may be my insecurity. It may be truth. I don't know, and I don't know how to find out. Females are interesting, and can be difficult, especially when a guy is involved. Guys are generally dumb and often oblivious. There are questions I want to ask, but I'm afraid he's getting really tired of all my questions.
I'm not like other girls. I have a lot of trouble being clever and witty in groups larger than two or three people. I often don't have anything at all to say, and when I do try to speak I generally don't speak loud enough to be heard and understood. Why do I act like such a frightened mouse these days? Have I always been like this? Completely devoid of opinion and intelligence? That can't be right. I've been very interesting and entertaining in my life. I do have a tendency toward the deep and dramatic sometimes, but I can be funny and exciting too.
I feel like I'm only half myself these days. I've been so constantly tired and I don't have much ambition for anything. I'm not sure if I'm in self sabotage mode or if I legitimately need to back off and try a different strategy. I just don't know.
03 June 2011
Bright Spots
sitcoms
unexpected text messages
dinner with the fam at Red Robin
books
payday
movies
front porch swing
sunshine
I'm having trouble coming up with things I'm grateful for today. It's not such a great day so I'm trying to count my blessings but I'm really having a difficult time. I'm tired and didn't eat like I should have. Certain very important wants/needs are not being filled at the moment and I'm running out of patience. I'm trying but I feel like I'm at the end of my rope. I've tied the knot and I'm hanging on, but if help doesn't come soon I don't know what I'm going to do.
A lot of things have been changing recently. The most recent change is Gonzo's move. He's not in my ward anymore and I'm kind of panicking. He's been a very important friend in my life over the last year and I'm not ready to lose him. On a logical level I can convince myself that we're good enough friends that this little change isn't going to sever our interaction, but I'm not a logical person. I'm an emotional person and until he stays, I don't know how to trust that he cares enough about me to stick around.
I'm working on overcoming this need to keep people around; I haven't told him my fears and I'm not needy or pleading...I act normal, like everything is just as it has been. But inside I'm a wreck, clinging to every second with him as though it's the last. I can't explain my feelings, my ridiculous need to have him around. All I can say is that I feel safe when he's there. I never feel safe...have never felt safe...except when I'm with Gonzo. I don't understand it. I've stopped questioning it. All I know is how I feel and that's a feeling I want to live in for a long time. In trying to explain it to Pola, I told her I wish we'd been born brother and sister, twins maybe. Then I would have him in my life from the moment I was born until forever. But that's not the case. He lived just fine without me, and would probably not even be affected if I was suddenly not around. But for me, he's been a dear friend and a lifeline.
I know that when he is gone, someone else will come and more or less fill in the void. But that doesn't help assuage the fear of losing him before I'm ready to let go.
unexpected text messages
dinner with the fam at Red Robin
books
payday
movies
front porch swing
sunshine
I'm having trouble coming up with things I'm grateful for today. It's not such a great day so I'm trying to count my blessings but I'm really having a difficult time. I'm tired and didn't eat like I should have. Certain very important wants/needs are not being filled at the moment and I'm running out of patience. I'm trying but I feel like I'm at the end of my rope. I've tied the knot and I'm hanging on, but if help doesn't come soon I don't know what I'm going to do.
A lot of things have been changing recently. The most recent change is Gonzo's move. He's not in my ward anymore and I'm kind of panicking. He's been a very important friend in my life over the last year and I'm not ready to lose him. On a logical level I can convince myself that we're good enough friends that this little change isn't going to sever our interaction, but I'm not a logical person. I'm an emotional person and until he stays, I don't know how to trust that he cares enough about me to stick around.
I'm working on overcoming this need to keep people around; I haven't told him my fears and I'm not needy or pleading...I act normal, like everything is just as it has been. But inside I'm a wreck, clinging to every second with him as though it's the last. I can't explain my feelings, my ridiculous need to have him around. All I can say is that I feel safe when he's there. I never feel safe...have never felt safe...except when I'm with Gonzo. I don't understand it. I've stopped questioning it. All I know is how I feel and that's a feeling I want to live in for a long time. In trying to explain it to Pola, I told her I wish we'd been born brother and sister, twins maybe. Then I would have him in my life from the moment I was born until forever. But that's not the case. He lived just fine without me, and would probably not even be affected if I was suddenly not around. But for me, he's been a dear friend and a lifeline.
I know that when he is gone, someone else will come and more or less fill in the void. But that doesn't help assuage the fear of losing him before I'm ready to let go.
27 May 2011
girl friends come through
This week has been another "me no planning" week. Monday night Chelle was texting me and asked if we could hang out on Tuesday. So after work on Tuesday I went to the condo she shares with Hey Pay and Pants and we ordered in Chinese food and watched The Spitfire Grill...and talked.
Tuesday I got a text from La-T inviting me to watch Daddy Longlegs with her and Arster on Wednesday. So last night was another girl's night with three different girls, eating cheesecake and swooning over Fred Astaire. "Mmm, you're a dandy!"
Tonight I thought I was going to hang out with The Artist because he had texted me Tuesday night wanting to do something this week. But miscommunication ensued and he made other plans before I decided I was tired of waiting for him or someone else to suggest something. So I ended up with nothing to do, and no one to do nothing with.
I don't do well these days when I'm left to myself. I get depressed and the anger over being alone bubbles to the surface. I know it's not good and I'm working on it...but I haven't quite figured out what to do with myself in those moments. Thankfully my parents said they were going to watch The Kid play in his first ever T-Ball game so I went along and hung out with Bliss, her hubby and Baby Boy while The Kid mostly played in the dirt. Silly kids.
There was still plenty of time when we got home so I read for a bit on the front porch swing. I'm severely distraught over the still chilling temperatures in this late May. I'm tired of being cooped up inside all the time, but it's just still too cold. So I didn't stay out for long. I ended up watching some Criminal Minds until I got a text from Pola saying they were coming over. She and Pants had gone to the gym and then to Zupa's and were on their way home but decided to stop in and rescue me from my loneliness. By that time I was actually feeling okay with being alone for the night, but it was a kind gesture and I appreciate their friendship and thoughtfulness.
I don't know how to explain what I'm going through right now. I don't know how to let people in on what's going on inside of me, so I don't know how to ask for the help I need. I wish I had some answers...really, I wish I had the right questions, then the answers might be easier to find. But for now, I'm just grateful for any little kindnesses or acts of friendship and love wherever they come from.
Guys make me feel safe. When I'm with The Artist or Fozzy or Gonzo (particularly Gonzo for whatever reason) I feel safe and calm and like I'm going to be okay after all. They know very little of my history or of my current predicament. I don't talk to anyone much about my struggles these days. But they are a support and a strength just by being around and letting me know they care.
Yes, guys are great and I am grateful for them...but girls are freakin amazing! I don't even have the words to say how extremely grateful I am to have such phenomenal women in my life. I have always had the best female friends. I wish I could list them all but I would inevitably leave off someone very important and I don't want to risk hurting feelings. So, to every woman who has ever cared anything for me at all, I thank you for your love, your kindness, your support, your example, and your spectacular influence in my life! I love and appreciate you more than I can say and I have been blessed to know you and to share life with you. Thank you ladies!
Tuesday I got a text from La-T inviting me to watch Daddy Longlegs with her and Arster on Wednesday. So last night was another girl's night with three different girls, eating cheesecake and swooning over Fred Astaire. "Mmm, you're a dandy!"
Tonight I thought I was going to hang out with The Artist because he had texted me Tuesday night wanting to do something this week. But miscommunication ensued and he made other plans before I decided I was tired of waiting for him or someone else to suggest something. So I ended up with nothing to do, and no one to do nothing with.
I don't do well these days when I'm left to myself. I get depressed and the anger over being alone bubbles to the surface. I know it's not good and I'm working on it...but I haven't quite figured out what to do with myself in those moments. Thankfully my parents said they were going to watch The Kid play in his first ever T-Ball game so I went along and hung out with Bliss, her hubby and Baby Boy while The Kid mostly played in the dirt. Silly kids.
There was still plenty of time when we got home so I read for a bit on the front porch swing. I'm severely distraught over the still chilling temperatures in this late May. I'm tired of being cooped up inside all the time, but it's just still too cold. So I didn't stay out for long. I ended up watching some Criminal Minds until I got a text from Pola saying they were coming over. She and Pants had gone to the gym and then to Zupa's and were on their way home but decided to stop in and rescue me from my loneliness. By that time I was actually feeling okay with being alone for the night, but it was a kind gesture and I appreciate their friendship and thoughtfulness.
I don't know how to explain what I'm going through right now. I don't know how to let people in on what's going on inside of me, so I don't know how to ask for the help I need. I wish I had some answers...really, I wish I had the right questions, then the answers might be easier to find. But for now, I'm just grateful for any little kindnesses or acts of friendship and love wherever they come from.
Guys make me feel safe. When I'm with The Artist or Fozzy or Gonzo (particularly Gonzo for whatever reason) I feel safe and calm and like I'm going to be okay after all. They know very little of my history or of my current predicament. I don't talk to anyone much about my struggles these days. But they are a support and a strength just by being around and letting me know they care.
Yes, guys are great and I am grateful for them...but girls are freakin amazing! I don't even have the words to say how extremely grateful I am to have such phenomenal women in my life. I have always had the best female friends. I wish I could list them all but I would inevitably leave off someone very important and I don't want to risk hurting feelings. So, to every woman who has ever cared anything for me at all, I thank you for your love, your kindness, your support, your example, and your spectacular influence in my life! I love and appreciate you more than I can say and I have been blessed to know you and to share life with you. Thank you ladies!
26 May 2011
I've been wondering
Does God really care about me? Does He see me? Does He know me? Does He want me to be happy and successful?
The reason these questions matter is because if God doesn't care, I'm not sure I can convince myself to care. If I don't care...well, I wouldn't do anything that can't be undone...but I might become one of those "empty shell people" who just stay in bed and stop trying.
Recently I've been feeling like no one really cares about me. Like everyone just stays around because I fill some sort of need, but not because they really care about ME. I see people for who they are. I love people for who they are, not for what they give to me or do for me. I genuinely care about people and I like to do what I can to help make their lives better. Mostly that means I listen to them (I'm pretty good at getting people to spill their guts to me without much prodding). I try not to talk much. I try to not complain or let people know when I'm hurting or having some sort of trouble...like, I've been having anxiety attacks recently, but I've become pretty good at hiding the fact that anything is wrong.
Monday night, though, I couldn't do it anymore. Last week was too stressful, too overwhelming and I just couldn't handle it on my own anymore. I had a little breakdown...at the institute after FHE...but it ended much better than I could have imagined or hoped.
I had been praying for help, and it had come in little ways throughout the week...mostly in the form of a particular friend. Our friendship still baffles me a bit, mainly because most of the time he doesn't say the things I wish he would. I wish he'd tell me from his perspective why we're friends, why he sticks around, why he cares...that he cares. He's rarely ever said the words, but his actions have been saying what his words won't.
He's been texting me, not just as a response to my texts to him (though that has improved as well), but of his own initiation as well. Sunday night when he forgot his phone at home, he had Ampt text me to let me know he didn't have his phone and to invite me to watch a movie with them. He remembered to think of me. Such a stupid, simple thing, but it meant more than I can tell you.
Then, Monday night when I was panicking and completely losing it because I didn't know what to do about Fozzie, fretting over his recent non-friend behavior he said, "Hey, you know what? The Artist and me, we're your friends. We're here for you." He said the words and reinforced them with his behavior. I believe him. I trust him...and The Artist...which means that I finally have two men in my life that I know care about me; I now have two men in my life I can trust. They've stuck around, even when I've been a little crazy, and they never used me or abused me. They genuinely like me, like spending time with me, without asking for anything from me. Fozzie's still a work in progress. I'm not convinced of his sincerity yet...but because I believe him when I'm with him, it makes me think it's only a matter of time before I trust him too.
I'm also grateful for my dear girl friends. They have been lifesavers as well. Ampt, Hey Pay, Pola, Chelle, LaT, Arster, Niffer...I'm so grateful for their love and friendship. I am so blessed with so many dear friends...
And that proves to me that God also cares; He knows me, He loves me, He wants me to be happy and to succeed. So I'll keep trying...and I'll try to stop wondering and just trust...
The reason these questions matter is because if God doesn't care, I'm not sure I can convince myself to care. If I don't care...well, I wouldn't do anything that can't be undone...but I might become one of those "empty shell people" who just stay in bed and stop trying.
Recently I've been feeling like no one really cares about me. Like everyone just stays around because I fill some sort of need, but not because they really care about ME. I see people for who they are. I love people for who they are, not for what they give to me or do for me. I genuinely care about people and I like to do what I can to help make their lives better. Mostly that means I listen to them (I'm pretty good at getting people to spill their guts to me without much prodding). I try not to talk much. I try to not complain or let people know when I'm hurting or having some sort of trouble...like, I've been having anxiety attacks recently, but I've become pretty good at hiding the fact that anything is wrong.
Monday night, though, I couldn't do it anymore. Last week was too stressful, too overwhelming and I just couldn't handle it on my own anymore. I had a little breakdown...at the institute after FHE...but it ended much better than I could have imagined or hoped.
I had been praying for help, and it had come in little ways throughout the week...mostly in the form of a particular friend. Our friendship still baffles me a bit, mainly because most of the time he doesn't say the things I wish he would. I wish he'd tell me from his perspective why we're friends, why he sticks around, why he cares...that he cares. He's rarely ever said the words, but his actions have been saying what his words won't.
He's been texting me, not just as a response to my texts to him (though that has improved as well), but of his own initiation as well. Sunday night when he forgot his phone at home, he had Ampt text me to let me know he didn't have his phone and to invite me to watch a movie with them. He remembered to think of me. Such a stupid, simple thing, but it meant more than I can tell you.
Then, Monday night when I was panicking and completely losing it because I didn't know what to do about Fozzie, fretting over his recent non-friend behavior he said, "Hey, you know what? The Artist and me, we're your friends. We're here for you." He said the words and reinforced them with his behavior. I believe him. I trust him...and The Artist...which means that I finally have two men in my life that I know care about me; I now have two men in my life I can trust. They've stuck around, even when I've been a little crazy, and they never used me or abused me. They genuinely like me, like spending time with me, without asking for anything from me. Fozzie's still a work in progress. I'm not convinced of his sincerity yet...but because I believe him when I'm with him, it makes me think it's only a matter of time before I trust him too.
I'm also grateful for my dear girl friends. They have been lifesavers as well. Ampt, Hey Pay, Pola, Chelle, LaT, Arster, Niffer...I'm so grateful for their love and friendship. I am so blessed with so many dear friends...
And that proves to me that God also cares; He knows me, He loves me, He wants me to be happy and to succeed. So I'll keep trying...and I'll try to stop wondering and just trust...
22 May 2011
Stuck
I'm so uncomfortable. There's a storm coming in again and I can feel it in my head. It's 2am and I haven't even tried to sleep. I'm in a bad moment, worse than normal, a giving up kind of moment. I'm tired of fighting, tired of hurting, tired of being tired. I don't want to do it anymore because I feel like I'm not progressing. I feel stuck again and I don't know what I'm stuck in so I don't know how to get unstuck.
Last week I decided to not plan anything social. I don't want to be the one always initiating, always inviting. Sometimes it would be nice to be "on the list" instead of the one making "the list". Generally, it worked out. I thought I would be sitting home alone every night but I pretty much spent the week with Ampt and her roommates + a couple pleasantly unexpected additions. I'd like to be there more. I'd really like to be invited and given a place in that social circle. I don't want to leave behind my little posse, I'd like to merge groups if possible...we're all "friendly" but I'd like us all to be friends.
The way I explained it to Bestest Friend the other day is that they have started inviting me to parties or bigger, planned out events...but I'm not just a party person, I'm an everyday living type of person. I'm not a fair-weather, just for fun friend (though I am a lot of fun), I'm a friend for all seasons kind of girl.
Anyway, this was not supposed to be a blog post about feeling neglected or left out...or a post about wanting to be invited and included (though I really would like to be invited and included).
I'm feeling kinda stuck in a blue funk of sorts. Part of it is hormonal. Part of it is stress. Part of it is the changing of the seasons and just change in general (both the resistance of and the need for). I didn't work yesterday and I got paid on Thursday so I went and got my hair done. It's completely different. She did highlights, so I'm back to streaks of blond. At first I was disappointed because I really didn't want to be a blond, but I actually really like it this time. It's not totally blond, and it's different enough that people notice. The response at the party last night was all positive (even the boys noticed, right off, and complemented me). It was definitely a good and way past due change. But what other changes can I make to get me unstuck?
I'm so antsy and ready for complete newness...and yet, at the same time, I am terrified of changing anything that won't "grow back". When I start feeling this way, the first thing I always do is change my hair. It's the least risky because if it doesn't work out the way I envision, the color can be altered again, or if it's a bad cut, it'll grow back out. But the bigger risks, the ones that will really help me break free and make a difference, those are the ones with which I hesitate. What if I make a horrible mistake? What if I can't take it back or work it out? What if I get stuck in a different kind of rut that I ends up consuming and destroying a significant portion of my existence?
The biggest spots of quicksand in my life right now are in the realms of spirituality and dating. I'm stuck spiritually mainly because I'm not putting forth the effort that I know is required for progression. It's the same with dating. I haven't been on a date in over a year. I haven't had a boyfriend in two and a half years. When I'm talking with friends, I blame the lack of "eligible bachelors," saying that all the guys are too young or immature or scary or unmotivated or shallow...etc. But the real reason I'm not involved is not for lack of options or opportunity. It's the same problem I'm having with my spirituality. I'm bitter, angry, discouraged, and needlessly nursing old wounds. I'm afraid. I'm lacking hope and faith. I can't work through it alone, I need some help with sorting out the barriers still standing in my way, but I don't know who to ask. I don't know where to turn for help.
I don't want to be stuck anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to be bitter and angry anymore...but the anger is more functional than the hurt is. Heartache or pain leads to debilitating depression and I stay in bed until noon or after. Anger allows me to at least get out of bed and find ways to keep busy and distract myself from the hurt.
The trouble with the hurt is that it's the hurt that has always haunted and hovered over and around me for as long as I can remember. I'm not talking about the hurt caused by the weasel or bobpi or any other past relationships. I'm talking about the nameless, faceless, sourceless hurt that makes my heart ache to the point where I wish I could just tear it out in order to feel anything else for a while. I can't explain it. I can't talk about it. I don't know why I'm writing about it here. I guess I'm just tired of holding it inside. I'm trying to send it out into the void and see if a solution might be sent back? I don't know.
Anyway, my computer is overheating and starting to malfunction, so I better wrap this up and go to bed. Thanks for listening. Sorry it's a little whiny and disjointed. Life is generally good, it's just not quite what I want it to be and I'm having trouble figuring out how to get it there.
Last week I decided to not plan anything social. I don't want to be the one always initiating, always inviting. Sometimes it would be nice to be "on the list" instead of the one making "the list". Generally, it worked out. I thought I would be sitting home alone every night but I pretty much spent the week with Ampt and her roommates + a couple pleasantly unexpected additions. I'd like to be there more. I'd really like to be invited and given a place in that social circle. I don't want to leave behind my little posse, I'd like to merge groups if possible...we're all "friendly" but I'd like us all to be friends.
The way I explained it to Bestest Friend the other day is that they have started inviting me to parties or bigger, planned out events...but I'm not just a party person, I'm an everyday living type of person. I'm not a fair-weather, just for fun friend (though I am a lot of fun), I'm a friend for all seasons kind of girl.
Anyway, this was not supposed to be a blog post about feeling neglected or left out...or a post about wanting to be invited and included (though I really would like to be invited and included).
I'm feeling kinda stuck in a blue funk of sorts. Part of it is hormonal. Part of it is stress. Part of it is the changing of the seasons and just change in general (both the resistance of and the need for). I didn't work yesterday and I got paid on Thursday so I went and got my hair done. It's completely different. She did highlights, so I'm back to streaks of blond. At first I was disappointed because I really didn't want to be a blond, but I actually really like it this time. It's not totally blond, and it's different enough that people notice. The response at the party last night was all positive (even the boys noticed, right off, and complemented me). It was definitely a good and way past due change. But what other changes can I make to get me unstuck?
I'm so antsy and ready for complete newness...and yet, at the same time, I am terrified of changing anything that won't "grow back". When I start feeling this way, the first thing I always do is change my hair. It's the least risky because if it doesn't work out the way I envision, the color can be altered again, or if it's a bad cut, it'll grow back out. But the bigger risks, the ones that will really help me break free and make a difference, those are the ones with which I hesitate. What if I make a horrible mistake? What if I can't take it back or work it out? What if I get stuck in a different kind of rut that I ends up consuming and destroying a significant portion of my existence?
The biggest spots of quicksand in my life right now are in the realms of spirituality and dating. I'm stuck spiritually mainly because I'm not putting forth the effort that I know is required for progression. It's the same with dating. I haven't been on a date in over a year. I haven't had a boyfriend in two and a half years. When I'm talking with friends, I blame the lack of "eligible bachelors," saying that all the guys are too young or immature or scary or unmotivated or shallow...etc. But the real reason I'm not involved is not for lack of options or opportunity. It's the same problem I'm having with my spirituality. I'm bitter, angry, discouraged, and needlessly nursing old wounds. I'm afraid. I'm lacking hope and faith. I can't work through it alone, I need some help with sorting out the barriers still standing in my way, but I don't know who to ask. I don't know where to turn for help.
I don't want to be stuck anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to be bitter and angry anymore...but the anger is more functional than the hurt is. Heartache or pain leads to debilitating depression and I stay in bed until noon or after. Anger allows me to at least get out of bed and find ways to keep busy and distract myself from the hurt.
The trouble with the hurt is that it's the hurt that has always haunted and hovered over and around me for as long as I can remember. I'm not talking about the hurt caused by the weasel or bobpi or any other past relationships. I'm talking about the nameless, faceless, sourceless hurt that makes my heart ache to the point where I wish I could just tear it out in order to feel anything else for a while. I can't explain it. I can't talk about it. I don't know why I'm writing about it here. I guess I'm just tired of holding it inside. I'm trying to send it out into the void and see if a solution might be sent back? I don't know.
Anyway, my computer is overheating and starting to malfunction, so I better wrap this up and go to bed. Thanks for listening. Sorry it's a little whiny and disjointed. Life is generally good, it's just not quite what I want it to be and I'm having trouble figuring out how to get it there.
10 May 2011
On Second Thought
I was going to rant and complain about how wretched this week has been...but I thought better of it. It doesn't matter, we all have frustrating and disappointing moments...get over it, right?
So, instead, how about a gratitude list:
Books are good, and I'm grateful to have a job working with them instead of flipping burgers or something equally icky
The Tourist is an okay movie, well worth the $1 from Redbox
One more day and I get a day off work
I only work until 2pm tomorrow
Avocado
Dr. Pepper
Uncle
a working washing machine
music
tissues
apple juice
friends / family
bed
computer
phone
hope of the impending summer
sore legs, because that proves they work
another day tomorrow
So, instead, how about a gratitude list:
Books are good, and I'm grateful to have a job working with them instead of flipping burgers or something equally icky
The Tourist is an okay movie, well worth the $1 from Redbox
One more day and I get a day off work
I only work until 2pm tomorrow
Avocado
Dr. Pepper
Uncle
a working washing machine
music
tissues
apple juice
friends / family
bed
computer
phone
hope of the impending summer
sore legs, because that proves they work
another day tomorrow
06 May 2011
A Good Day
For the last week and a half my friend and I have been trying to go see a movie. I asked him last weekend if we could go and he said yes, but then other things happened instead so we didn't go. I thought he'd forget or just go see it on his own or with a different friend for something, but he didn't. We've been texting all week trying to find a time that would work. Finally, he sent me a text around 11am that said, "today" to which I responded, "yes". He said he needed to meet up with a classmate at school then we'd go to the movie at 4:15 in Sugarhouse. I told him I'd just meet him at the theater then, but he said that if I didn't want to drive (since my car is having issues) he'd swing by around 1pm and I could just read or something while he finished up his stuff at the school. It was my day off work and I didn't have anything else to do so I went along.
It's been a couple weeks since he and I have had a chance to just be the two of us and talk and such, so it was nice to have him mostly to myself all afternoon today. I didn't get to ask him everything I wanted to, but we had a good time and I feel better about things. A lot of changes are in progress right now and I've been afraid that with the changes our friendship would be drastically altered and I'd lose him. I'm pretty much constantly afraid that my friends will suddenly decide to stop being my friend anyway (it's happened in the past) and so I get extra nervous when life provides them with a legitimate and easy exit.
Today was good. His peer reviews didn't take as long as he thought so we wandered around campus for a bit, hung out with some of his classmates, and then went to lunch at a burger joint across the street. We went to the movie and then stopped in at DI to look for a bike. Then, as he was driving me home, he said he was going to meet up with a couple other friends to watch a TV show they are into and invited me to tag along. I had plans with Hey Pay so I thanked him and declined, but it was nice of him to offer.
I have this fear that he's just being kind and tolerating me rather than genuinely wanting me around...but if he didn't care and didn't like having me around he wouldn't come around as often as he does, he wouldn't have kept trying to go to the movie with me, he wouldn't have invited me to go to the school with him, he wouldn't have spent 5 hours with me and then invited me to stay with him longer. It's just that whenever things look good, or when I start to feel happy and content with life, I always hesitate, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for life to take a sudden nose dive, back into the "depths of despair". I have a horrible habit of negatively predicting the future. I am aware of this, I know it's illogical and pessimistic, and I'm doing my best to stop thinking this way.
Positive Affirmations
Life is good. Life can and probably will stay good. I'm allowed to be happy. People love me; they enjoy being around me and spending time with me. I have a nice little group of friends who genuinely care about me and like having me around. The other shoe is not going to drop, I will not be deserted by everyone I care about. Some of these friends (possibly including this one in particular) will be my friends for a very long time, maybe even the rest of my life.
I just have to repeat these positive thoughts until I really believe them and they replace the incorrect negative thoughts. I'm getting there. I'm progressing. I'm not leaning on others for support, most of them have no idea about my struggles or the reasons I prefer to be with people instead of spending a lot of time alone. I'm not dependent on them, they simply make my personal burdens a little easier to bear (most of the time without even knowing anything about it). They come, we have fun, and I am reassured simply by their presence. I can't make it alone, none of us can. We're in it together and that's how we make it through.
As we watched the movie today I noticed that. We saw The King's Speech. The Duke of York, later crowned King of England had a stutter that made it very difficult for him to speak, but he had the incredible support of his wife who found him an incredibly understanding and supportive friend to help him. We all have things we struggle with, whether they are plainly noticeable (such as a stutter or physical handicap), or they are hidden inside (such as depression, anxiety, OCD, or other mental or emotional disorders). No matter the struggle, we don't have to go through it alone. We're stronger and better able to overcome anything when we allow others to stand by us and help us through.
Anyway, once again, I am thankful for my dear friends and I consider myself very blessed because I know and have known so many amazing people. I look forward to meeting many more.
It's always a good day when shared with a friend!
It's been a couple weeks since he and I have had a chance to just be the two of us and talk and such, so it was nice to have him mostly to myself all afternoon today. I didn't get to ask him everything I wanted to, but we had a good time and I feel better about things. A lot of changes are in progress right now and I've been afraid that with the changes our friendship would be drastically altered and I'd lose him. I'm pretty much constantly afraid that my friends will suddenly decide to stop being my friend anyway (it's happened in the past) and so I get extra nervous when life provides them with a legitimate and easy exit.
Today was good. His peer reviews didn't take as long as he thought so we wandered around campus for a bit, hung out with some of his classmates, and then went to lunch at a burger joint across the street. We went to the movie and then stopped in at DI to look for a bike. Then, as he was driving me home, he said he was going to meet up with a couple other friends to watch a TV show they are into and invited me to tag along. I had plans with Hey Pay so I thanked him and declined, but it was nice of him to offer.
I have this fear that he's just being kind and tolerating me rather than genuinely wanting me around...but if he didn't care and didn't like having me around he wouldn't come around as often as he does, he wouldn't have kept trying to go to the movie with me, he wouldn't have invited me to go to the school with him, he wouldn't have spent 5 hours with me and then invited me to stay with him longer. It's just that whenever things look good, or when I start to feel happy and content with life, I always hesitate, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for life to take a sudden nose dive, back into the "depths of despair". I have a horrible habit of negatively predicting the future. I am aware of this, I know it's illogical and pessimistic, and I'm doing my best to stop thinking this way.
Positive Affirmations
Life is good. Life can and probably will stay good. I'm allowed to be happy. People love me; they enjoy being around me and spending time with me. I have a nice little group of friends who genuinely care about me and like having me around. The other shoe is not going to drop, I will not be deserted by everyone I care about. Some of these friends (possibly including this one in particular) will be my friends for a very long time, maybe even the rest of my life.
I just have to repeat these positive thoughts until I really believe them and they replace the incorrect negative thoughts. I'm getting there. I'm progressing. I'm not leaning on others for support, most of them have no idea about my struggles or the reasons I prefer to be with people instead of spending a lot of time alone. I'm not dependent on them, they simply make my personal burdens a little easier to bear (most of the time without even knowing anything about it). They come, we have fun, and I am reassured simply by their presence. I can't make it alone, none of us can. We're in it together and that's how we make it through.
As we watched the movie today I noticed that. We saw The King's Speech. The Duke of York, later crowned King of England had a stutter that made it very difficult for him to speak, but he had the incredible support of his wife who found him an incredibly understanding and supportive friend to help him. We all have things we struggle with, whether they are plainly noticeable (such as a stutter or physical handicap), or they are hidden inside (such as depression, anxiety, OCD, or other mental or emotional disorders). No matter the struggle, we don't have to go through it alone. We're stronger and better able to overcome anything when we allow others to stand by us and help us through.
Anyway, once again, I am thankful for my dear friends and I consider myself very blessed because I know and have known so many amazing people. I look forward to meeting many more.
It's always a good day when shared with a friend!
05 May 2011
Get out your pliers
Bestest Friend used to have the hardest time getting me to talk about what was really on my mind. We would sit for long periods of time while I tangented and changed the subject, got her to talk about herself, or just waited for her to decide she was too tired and go to bed. Eventually she started saying, "Do I need to get my pliers?" so she could pry out of me whatever was bothering me. I'm stubborn, though, and I do fairly well with keeping inside whatever I'm not sure I want to talk about.
A couple weeks ago Fozzy noticed something was bothering me. He tried really hard to get me to talk to him but I couldn't. Luckily Hey Pay showed up to watch a movie with us and I was off the hook. I told him I don't talk, I listen. He hasn't tried to get me to talk since...though I kind of wish he would. But he's not really a listener...maybe he would be if I gave him a chance.
I want to talk to someone. I want to confide in someone about the things that have been on my mind recently, but I still don't trust people (guys or girls) after being burned so many times. Even Bestest Friend is difficult to talk to these days. She has her baby girl now who takes up most of her attention. I'm doing my best to self-contain, but everyone needs someone to talk to sometimes.
It would be nice to go back to the days of sitting on Bestest Friend's backyard swing in the middle of the night, just swinging and talking. But she lives in a different house now, her pliers have been lost in all her moving about...I have my own swing now, if only I could find someone with a new pair of pliers to sit and talk with me. Maybe someday I'll find my voice again...
A couple weeks ago Fozzy noticed something was bothering me. He tried really hard to get me to talk to him but I couldn't. Luckily Hey Pay showed up to watch a movie with us and I was off the hook. I told him I don't talk, I listen. He hasn't tried to get me to talk since...though I kind of wish he would. But he's not really a listener...maybe he would be if I gave him a chance.
I want to talk to someone. I want to confide in someone about the things that have been on my mind recently, but I still don't trust people (guys or girls) after being burned so many times. Even Bestest Friend is difficult to talk to these days. She has her baby girl now who takes up most of her attention. I'm doing my best to self-contain, but everyone needs someone to talk to sometimes.
It would be nice to go back to the days of sitting on Bestest Friend's backyard swing in the middle of the night, just swinging and talking. But she lives in a different house now, her pliers have been lost in all her moving about...I have my own swing now, if only I could find someone with a new pair of pliers to sit and talk with me. Maybe someday I'll find my voice again...
02 May 2011
behind the moon; beyond the rain
The Wizard of Oz has always been one of my favorite movies. The adventure, the music, the contrast of blank & white with Technicolor! I love Dorothy. She's a classic beauty; delicate, feminine, spunky, dauntless and heroic. I always wanted to be Dorothy, "the small and meek" fighting the Wicked Witch of the West or skipping through the forest arm in arm with the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion. The part I love the most, though, is the relationship formed between the four (and a half counting Toto) main characters.I love the way they take care of each other without being wholly dependent on each other. I love the way they care about each other and have such a great time together. They are stronger and better able to face the challenges and dangers of their adventure because they are together. They each have their own personalities including strengths and weaknesses but they complement each other in such a way that makes them perfect companions.
As I was watching the movie last night I noticed something that I had never considered before. Dorothy is not some gorgeous, perfectly behaved child. She's pretty and intelligent, but she's kind of gawky and her aunt tells her to find a place where she won't get into trouble (which she doesn't manage to do). Likewise, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion are all basically misfits, unable to fulfill their intended purposes when they first meet Dorothy. The Scarecrow can't scare the crows and lacks "a brain", the Tin Man can't chop wood because he's rusted solid and lacks "a heart", and the Lion is unable to be king of the forest because he lacks courage. They are all a little scruffy and rough around the edges, but as they become friends, join forces, and pursue their quest to fill their deficiencies, they each find within themselves what they believed they lacked.
I kind of see in myself and certain members of my current group of friends the characters in The Wizard of Oz. We are scruffy and incomplete, insecure about our believed deficiencies, but we find companionship and security in each others' friendship. We are misfits, but we fit together in a way we've never quite fit with others. I feel comfortable and more confident when I'm with them. They seem to enjoy my particular talent for being accepting and nurturing. We have fun and, though our "wicked witches" are more subtle and vague, the foe we fight is so similar that it has a way of pulling us together. We understand each other and feel a kinship that is simply inexplicable. It's strange, but this perspective helps me to understand part of my purpose in this moment.
I'm so grateful for dear friends :)
26 April 2011
Black Tuesday
Tuesdays are notoriously "Depression" days
Why should my Tuesdays be any different?
Tuesdays were my long and lonely days last semester. Now they are still long and lonely days. Why are people always too busy on Tuesdays? Too busy for me. I need someone to think of me on Tuesdays because Tuesdays are turning out to be my "depression" days. I can't fight it off alone, I can't ask for help...because if they wanted me around they would call me. I don't want to be a bother, I don't want to be the person they complain about asking too much or being too needy. So I struggle through my Black Tuesdays alone, wishing someone would let me know they care. But maybe they don't say anything because they don't care.
It's nearly 11pm, so Tuesday is almost over. Wednesdays have always been better days...in fact, for a while, they were the best days. So I'll go to sleep now, and tomorrow will be better. Sorry for whining and complaining. It hurts too much to keep it inside and all to myself. So I'm sending it out into the void with the hope that the Universe will take pity and send a little sunshine and love my way.
Why should my Tuesdays be any different?
Tuesdays were my long and lonely days last semester. Now they are still long and lonely days. Why are people always too busy on Tuesdays? Too busy for me. I need someone to think of me on Tuesdays because Tuesdays are turning out to be my "depression" days. I can't fight it off alone, I can't ask for help...because if they wanted me around they would call me. I don't want to be a bother, I don't want to be the person they complain about asking too much or being too needy. So I struggle through my Black Tuesdays alone, wishing someone would let me know they care. But maybe they don't say anything because they don't care.
It's nearly 11pm, so Tuesday is almost over. Wednesdays have always been better days...in fact, for a while, they were the best days. So I'll go to sleep now, and tomorrow will be better. Sorry for whining and complaining. It hurts too much to keep it inside and all to myself. So I'm sending it out into the void with the hope that the Universe will take pity and send a little sunshine and love my way.
love me, love me not
I miss you already, and you're not even gone. Your absence wraps around and through me in a crowded room. The numbness settles back in with every step you take away. For a few months I smiled. I felt safe, noticed, wanted, and happier than anytime in my memory. Now I'm back to feeling only the lonely cracks and bitter shards of another promise broken, another friendship shattered.
But I have to accept it. I knew from the start it would end; it always does. Friendships don't last forever, do they? I've been through it so many times before, I should be a pro at watching people I love walk away. I should be stronger by now, better able to let go with dignity and grace. But the tears still run at the thought of losing another significant companion. I know you don't love me, not in any lasting way. I'm nothing more than a transient cohort, a passing playmate. We bonded, but you held back. I mean very little to you; you mean the world to me.
Change is inevitable, I know. I just hoped we would be changing together, instead of the change providing an easy exit. I know that exit doors double as entrances, with every significant person who walks away, at least one more walks in...but it can't quite fill the hole you'll leave behind.
I dedicate Elizabeth Bishop's Villanelle to you.
I know that losing you won't be a disaster, not like I feel it will be. Maybe I won't lose you at all; I may be simply paranoid over nothing...maybe you're not leaving at all.
When you're gone, will you miss me? Will you even notice my absence from your life? I wish you loved me at all, because then maybe you wouldn't leave...or at least maybe you'd miss me too. But I can't make you love me, not at all. I have no idea what I've been to you; I'm amazed you've stayed as long as you have; I don't understand the time you've spent with me...especially just me. I'm nothing; a substitute, a transition. I could be everything, or at least something, but that would require x-ray vision because my outside is ugly, doesn't match my inside. I wish you were blind, then maybe you'd see what you're losing in walking away from me. Maybe not.
Maybe it's no loss at all.
People walk away so easily; I've never created a void in someone else's heart.
Will anyone ever love me enough to stick around?
But I have to accept it. I knew from the start it would end; it always does. Friendships don't last forever, do they? I've been through it so many times before, I should be a pro at watching people I love walk away. I should be stronger by now, better able to let go with dignity and grace. But the tears still run at the thought of losing another significant companion. I know you don't love me, not in any lasting way. I'm nothing more than a transient cohort, a passing playmate. We bonded, but you held back. I mean very little to you; you mean the world to me.
Change is inevitable, I know. I just hoped we would be changing together, instead of the change providing an easy exit. I know that exit doors double as entrances, with every significant person who walks away, at least one more walks in...but it can't quite fill the hole you'll leave behind.
I dedicate Elizabeth Bishop's Villanelle to you.
One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of losing door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
-- Even losing you (the joke voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of losing door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
-- Even losing you (the joke voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
I know that losing you won't be a disaster, not like I feel it will be. Maybe I won't lose you at all; I may be simply paranoid over nothing...maybe you're not leaving at all.
When you're gone, will you miss me? Will you even notice my absence from your life? I wish you loved me at all, because then maybe you wouldn't leave...or at least maybe you'd miss me too. But I can't make you love me, not at all. I have no idea what I've been to you; I'm amazed you've stayed as long as you have; I don't understand the time you've spent with me...especially just me. I'm nothing; a substitute, a transition. I could be everything, or at least something, but that would require x-ray vision because my outside is ugly, doesn't match my inside. I wish you were blind, then maybe you'd see what you're losing in walking away from me. Maybe not.
Maybe it's no loss at all.
People walk away so easily; I've never created a void in someone else's heart.
Will anyone ever love me enough to stick around?
18 April 2011
I need a hugging machine
In an episode of Gray's Anatomy, Dr. Dixon, the heart surgeon with Aspergers syndrome has an anxiety attack and kind of freaks out. In order to calm her down, Dr. Bailey and Cristina Yang have to hold her, applying pressure to large areas of her body in order to soothe the sympathetic nervous system and slow her heart. She says that normally a hugging machine will take care of it, but since there wasn't one, this is what was required:
And this is what I need. When my heart aches and the anxiety is high, all I need is a hugging machine. Sadly, I don't have one, and I don't know where to find one.
It's been a long time. For quite a while after Bobpi and I broke up (and actually, for quite a while while we were together) physical contact heightened the anxiety instead of calming it. Now I can't seem to get enough of it. I guess I'm feeling the need to make up for lost time, but I haven't really had anyone. The Artist is getting better at hugging. Gonzo gives really good hugs, but only when I ask him to. Fozzy is a hugger, and he's like a big teddy bear...he could be a nice cuddle buddy, but he's so much younger than I am and I don't know that he would understand that I don't want to date him, I just want him to be my living hugging machine.
I wish I could find a new boyfriend (not the boys listed above). It's been too long.
I miss being held. More than anything else, I miss the conversation and the cuddling.
But it seem a boyfriend is not in the cards for me anytime soon.
So, does anyone know where I can find that hugging machine? I could really use it tonight.
And this is what I need. When my heart aches and the anxiety is high, all I need is a hugging machine. Sadly, I don't have one, and I don't know where to find one.
It's been a long time. For quite a while after Bobpi and I broke up (and actually, for quite a while while we were together) physical contact heightened the anxiety instead of calming it. Now I can't seem to get enough of it. I guess I'm feeling the need to make up for lost time, but I haven't really had anyone. The Artist is getting better at hugging. Gonzo gives really good hugs, but only when I ask him to. Fozzy is a hugger, and he's like a big teddy bear...he could be a nice cuddle buddy, but he's so much younger than I am and I don't know that he would understand that I don't want to date him, I just want him to be my living hugging machine.
I wish I could find a new boyfriend (not the boys listed above). It's been too long.
I miss being held. More than anything else, I miss the conversation and the cuddling.
But it seem a boyfriend is not in the cards for me anytime soon.
So, does anyone know where I can find that hugging machine? I could really use it tonight.
14 April 2011
Published
I submitted some poems to my school's literary journal this semester and they accepted two for publication! This counts as an official publication, but I reserve all rights for future publication.
Last week the English department hosted an Author's Gala in which they gave out copies of the literary journal, Metaphor, and had some of the people published in it share their art. They asked me to read one of my poems.
Besides poetry, the journal contains excerpts or short fiction and non-fiction, music, and visual art. A few other writers read their poems or excerpts from stories, a couple of the musicians played their songs, and an artist or two explained their work.
Now that it's over, it was fun! My American Lit teacher had me read my poems in class on Wednesday too, slowly I'm becoming accustomed to reading my poems aloud, though it still makes me nervous and shaky, not to mention rambly to do so.
When you read a poem in front of a group of poets, they like for you to take a minute to set the scene. So, I stood up and started explaining my poem (above). "This poem comes from a moment between my friend and me. We were hanging out one night and he was playing the piano as I sat writing on a couch close by. The moment in reality wasn't anywhere near as romantic as the poem turned out to be. In fact, until I wrote the poem, I had never thought of him as anything more than a friend. But then, as the poem took it's final formation, I thought, 'Oh my! Really? I had no idea I felt that way! Hmm, maybe.' (that made people laugh). Sometimes poems have a way of revealing things about ourselves that we didn't consciously recognize before. But, no matter what the poem says, he and I will only ever be good friends."
I don't understand why this particular friend has such a creative affect on me, but I am very grateful to him for allowing me to absorb some of his artistry. I am also grateful to him for indulging my requests for his time and attention so often these days. He has helped me in so many ways, far beyond demolishing my writer's block. Between him, Fozzy, and The Artist, I'm becoming more comfortable and trusting of men. They are kind and caring and without even knowing they were doing anything at all, they have helped to bring me back to life and I'm even beginning to believe in love again...meaning, I'm beginning to believe I can be loved by someone I love.
Sorry for that tangent. My other poem that was published is an imitative poem I wrote for my poetry class last semester. It's influenced by the contemporary poet, Dean Young. The assignment was to read a book of poems by a living poet and then analyze their technique and write a poem incorporating this technique. One thing I noticed in Young's poetry is that most of his poems have a really strong and gripping first line, something odd that catches your attention right at first. He also has a tendency to sound a little like he's rambling and some of what he adds in his poem doesn't seem to make sense, but it feels right in the poem. Anyway, here is my attempt to imitate his style.
Last week the English department hosted an Author's Gala in which they gave out copies of the literary journal, Metaphor, and had some of the people published in it share their art. They asked me to read one of my poems.
A Moment Between Two Artists
He steps through an invisible wall
Into his music
And weaves disjointed tunes
Accenting chatter
Five feet away on a worn red couch
She's confined in her own
Groping words
Fragmented symbols, unformed mosaics
His fingers along the keys
He names them all
"I call this one, Beautiful Girl is Writing"
Blushed lips, timid
She thinks the tone is fitting
Somber and serene
A weeping willow swaying through a storm
He knows her very well
"Your turn," he grins
"What is that you're writing?"
She whispers
"Handsome Man, Keep Playing"
He steps through an invisible wall
Into his music
And weaves disjointed tunes
Accenting chatter
Five feet away on a worn red couch
She's confined in her own
Groping words
Fragmented symbols, unformed mosaics
His fingers along the keys
He names them all
"I call this one, Beautiful Girl is Writing"
Blushed lips, timid
She thinks the tone is fitting
Somber and serene
A weeping willow swaying through a storm
He knows her very well
"Your turn," he grins
"What is that you're writing?"
She whispers
"Handsome Man, Keep Playing"
Besides poetry, the journal contains excerpts or short fiction and non-fiction, music, and visual art. A few other writers read their poems or excerpts from stories, a couple of the musicians played their songs, and an artist or two explained their work.
Now that it's over, it was fun! My American Lit teacher had me read my poems in class on Wednesday too, slowly I'm becoming accustomed to reading my poems aloud, though it still makes me nervous and shaky, not to mention rambly to do so.
When you read a poem in front of a group of poets, they like for you to take a minute to set the scene. So, I stood up and started explaining my poem (above). "This poem comes from a moment between my friend and me. We were hanging out one night and he was playing the piano as I sat writing on a couch close by. The moment in reality wasn't anywhere near as romantic as the poem turned out to be. In fact, until I wrote the poem, I had never thought of him as anything more than a friend. But then, as the poem took it's final formation, I thought, 'Oh my! Really? I had no idea I felt that way! Hmm, maybe.' (that made people laugh). Sometimes poems have a way of revealing things about ourselves that we didn't consciously recognize before. But, no matter what the poem says, he and I will only ever be good friends."
I don't understand why this particular friend has such a creative affect on me, but I am very grateful to him for allowing me to absorb some of his artistry. I am also grateful to him for indulging my requests for his time and attention so often these days. He has helped me in so many ways, far beyond demolishing my writer's block. Between him, Fozzy, and The Artist, I'm becoming more comfortable and trusting of men. They are kind and caring and without even knowing they were doing anything at all, they have helped to bring me back to life and I'm even beginning to believe in love again...meaning, I'm beginning to believe I can be loved by someone I love.
Sorry for that tangent. My other poem that was published is an imitative poem I wrote for my poetry class last semester. It's influenced by the contemporary poet, Dean Young. The assignment was to read a book of poems by a living poet and then analyze their technique and write a poem incorporating this technique. One thing I noticed in Young's poetry is that most of his poems have a really strong and gripping first line, something odd that catches your attention right at first. He also has a tendency to sound a little like he's rambling and some of what he adds in his poem doesn't seem to make sense, but it feels right in the poem. Anyway, here is my attempt to imitate his style.
Where The Go
Kleptomania was not my intention.
I only collect the luggage and the socks
that airlines and dryers misplace.
You thought it was goblins or trolls
wreaking havoc just to make you late
for school or work or your important date.
But it was me, taunting your sanity.
Stealing t-shirts, shampoo, underwear,
and extra shoes thickens the blood.
My own socks aren't enough, I have to
mismatch them with yours for my
feet to feel free to wander from
Texas to Chicago with connections
in Paris and Tokyo. I only wear your
socks, never your trousers or the
stolen hotel bathrobe, because socks
can be hidden inside shoes and beneath
long jeans so no one knows they
once belonged to someone else.
The suitcases are homes for the sock
people made from the too small or
too large cotton sheaves; they need
someplace to hide. Everything else
goes to the people on the streets;
those you forget to look at
as you hurry to catch your flight.
So when you see a bum wearing your
Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, or
Armani, think of me...
I'm wearing your socks.
Kleptomania was not my intention.
I only collect the luggage and the socks
that airlines and dryers misplace.
You thought it was goblins or trolls
wreaking havoc just to make you late
for school or work or your important date.
But it was me, taunting your sanity.
Stealing t-shirts, shampoo, underwear,
and extra shoes thickens the blood.
My own socks aren't enough, I have to
mismatch them with yours for my
feet to feel free to wander from
Texas to Chicago with connections
in Paris and Tokyo. I only wear your
socks, never your trousers or the
stolen hotel bathrobe, because socks
can be hidden inside shoes and beneath
long jeans so no one knows they
once belonged to someone else.
The suitcases are homes for the sock
people made from the too small or
too large cotton sheaves; they need
someplace to hide. Everything else
goes to the people on the streets;
those you forget to look at
as you hurry to catch your flight.
So when you see a bum wearing your
Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, or
Armani, think of me...
I'm wearing your socks.
10 April 2011
a week and a half
Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. This is the last week of classes before finals, then I'm done with classes until Fall semester. I'm so ready to not have to go to Ogden every day for a while. This semester has been rough. I've driven a lot more often than I should have and I'm just praying my car holds out until the end of next week before breaking down.
My goal for the summer is to find a full-time job. I at least need a second part-time job so I can build up my finances and cut my debt. I'm thinking of applying at some credit unions, and this time I'll stick to being a teller instead of letting them talk me into doing loans. Loans are just too stressful for me, but I do like playing with money and talking with the members. For the most part, tellering was a lot of fun.
On the other hand, if I could find a job doing something where I don't have to work with the public, something more like I did working in the mailroom, that would be nice. I'd like to find something I can do while listening to music or books on tape. Although, I've never read so many books as when I worked at the credit union. Right now, it doesn't really matter much what I do, so long as it's not in a call center or in sales. I don't know. I haven't really had much chance to look, but once this week is over I'll have more time to search.
Wish me luck on finals! After next week I'll have more time to write. I started a post about being published in my school's literary journal, so I'll post that asap.
My goal for the summer is to find a full-time job. I at least need a second part-time job so I can build up my finances and cut my debt. I'm thinking of applying at some credit unions, and this time I'll stick to being a teller instead of letting them talk me into doing loans. Loans are just too stressful for me, but I do like playing with money and talking with the members. For the most part, tellering was a lot of fun.
On the other hand, if I could find a job doing something where I don't have to work with the public, something more like I did working in the mailroom, that would be nice. I'd like to find something I can do while listening to music or books on tape. Although, I've never read so many books as when I worked at the credit union. Right now, it doesn't really matter much what I do, so long as it's not in a call center or in sales. I don't know. I haven't really had much chance to look, but once this week is over I'll have more time to search.
Wish me luck on finals! After next week I'll have more time to write. I started a post about being published in my school's literary journal, so I'll post that asap.
03 April 2011
eventually
Sometimes your words make me feel not-so-good; and sometimes your lack of words makes me feel even worse.
I know I'm just being sensitive, but I'm starting to lose my ability to smile through when my guy friends start talking about other girls they're interested in. It's not that I'm interested in any of my guy friends either, I think the trouble is that I'm starting to fear that no one will ever talk like that about me again. I wasted so much time with the wrong guys, not realizing that I deserved and could have someone better who actually treated me well, someone who actually loved me...and now I've lost my appeal and all I'm good for is to be a friend who listens about all the other girls who are better and more attractive than me. Why don't they know that it hurts? Why don't they know that it makes me feel bad to hear about how great she is, when no one is telling me how great I am? Because I don't tell them. I want them to talk to me. I want to be a good friend and be there for them; I'm the one who picks up the pieces when they come back disappointed and heartbroken...but I also want someone to feel that way about me. And I want to feel that way about someone. I don't know where to find men that I'm attracted to. There is absolutely no one appealing in my life and it's getting really discouraging. I know, it happens when you least expect; he'll come out of nowhere...la la la, whatever...but I'm getting really tired of waiting.
Most of the time it's really great and I'm so grateful to have such good guy friends in my life. They fill that gaping void a little, at least make it more bearable while I'm waiting. They're a good distraction and they are a lot of fun. It's just those moments when they start talking about the other girls...the ones who I am nothing like. I think I'm pretty darn spectacular and any guy would be lucky to have me...but they don't seem to see it that way. I'm good enough to spend hours with every day in the week, and yet, I'm not good for more? Not fair.
Ok, so there's my little tantrum. Now I'll go back to the faith. I know that somewhere out there is a man who will see all the spectacular in me. Someday I'll be the one who consumes his every waking (and dreaming) thought. I'll be the one he can't wait to talk to, can't wait to see and hold in his arms. I'll be the most beautiful and amazing woman he's ever known. Someday I'll be loved.
Until then, I'm happy with my friends (girls and guys). I'm content to just have people around who like to be around me. Tonight Fozzy said my house is like the "clubhouse; the place to be". I've been told that my house is comfortable, cozy, inviting, fun, and generally a place where people like to just come and chill. People like to be around me because I'm content, happy, fun, kind, interested in them, loving, understanding, and relaxed. I don't get offended easily. I don't show when I'm hurt or upset (most of the time). And I just let things roll off because I finally came to understand that life is too short to worry about stuff. It hurts when I don't get invited to stuff...it's been happening a lot with certain people and I don't know why. But hey, whatever, I have other people who do love me and who do invite me to things. And, they are the ones who come when I call. I guess I should be comforted in that fact. Maybe they aren't saying how wonderful I am with their words...but they do say it in their actions: they keep coming around and then they stay until 1am, 2am, 3am. They wouldn't do that if they didn't like me. They'd find somewhere else to be. They wouldn't come when I call. So there, non-verbals screaming at me, I guess I'll pay attention and stop the pity party over feeling undesired.
Eventually it'll all work out and things will fall into place and someone will love me and the friends worth having will stick around and I'll stop fretting about it. Eventually I'll get it.
I know I'm just being sensitive, but I'm starting to lose my ability to smile through when my guy friends start talking about other girls they're interested in. It's not that I'm interested in any of my guy friends either, I think the trouble is that I'm starting to fear that no one will ever talk like that about me again. I wasted so much time with the wrong guys, not realizing that I deserved and could have someone better who actually treated me well, someone who actually loved me...and now I've lost my appeal and all I'm good for is to be a friend who listens about all the other girls who are better and more attractive than me. Why don't they know that it hurts? Why don't they know that it makes me feel bad to hear about how great she is, when no one is telling me how great I am? Because I don't tell them. I want them to talk to me. I want to be a good friend and be there for them; I'm the one who picks up the pieces when they come back disappointed and heartbroken...but I also want someone to feel that way about me. And I want to feel that way about someone. I don't know where to find men that I'm attracted to. There is absolutely no one appealing in my life and it's getting really discouraging. I know, it happens when you least expect; he'll come out of nowhere...la la la, whatever...but I'm getting really tired of waiting.
Most of the time it's really great and I'm so grateful to have such good guy friends in my life. They fill that gaping void a little, at least make it more bearable while I'm waiting. They're a good distraction and they are a lot of fun. It's just those moments when they start talking about the other girls...the ones who I am nothing like. I think I'm pretty darn spectacular and any guy would be lucky to have me...but they don't seem to see it that way. I'm good enough to spend hours with every day in the week, and yet, I'm not good for more? Not fair.
Ok, so there's my little tantrum. Now I'll go back to the faith. I know that somewhere out there is a man who will see all the spectacular in me. Someday I'll be the one who consumes his every waking (and dreaming) thought. I'll be the one he can't wait to talk to, can't wait to see and hold in his arms. I'll be the most beautiful and amazing woman he's ever known. Someday I'll be loved.
Until then, I'm happy with my friends (girls and guys). I'm content to just have people around who like to be around me. Tonight Fozzy said my house is like the "clubhouse; the place to be". I've been told that my house is comfortable, cozy, inviting, fun, and generally a place where people like to just come and chill. People like to be around me because I'm content, happy, fun, kind, interested in them, loving, understanding, and relaxed. I don't get offended easily. I don't show when I'm hurt or upset (most of the time). And I just let things roll off because I finally came to understand that life is too short to worry about stuff. It hurts when I don't get invited to stuff...it's been happening a lot with certain people and I don't know why. But hey, whatever, I have other people who do love me and who do invite me to things. And, they are the ones who come when I call. I guess I should be comforted in that fact. Maybe they aren't saying how wonderful I am with their words...but they do say it in their actions: they keep coming around and then they stay until 1am, 2am, 3am. They wouldn't do that if they didn't like me. They'd find somewhere else to be. They wouldn't come when I call. So there, non-verbals screaming at me, I guess I'll pay attention and stop the pity party over feeling undesired.
Eventually it'll all work out and things will fall into place and someone will love me and the friends worth having will stick around and I'll stop fretting about it. Eventually I'll get it.
31 March 2011
We can't stay like this forever but I can have you next to me today
Whenever things start going well, whenever I start to feel happy about the friendships and relationships I am enjoying, I always get paranoid.
"If we just keep our eyes wide open then everything will stay the same."
This is part of the reason for my recent insomnia. I don't want to go to sleep and wake to find them all gone. A few in particular.
Tuesday night was one of those moments. We had planned to ride together but my attempts at repairing my car took longer than expected. By the time it was drivable again I was already late. I decided to go anyway, hoping to catch at least half. I got there just before intermission. When I walked in, I saw him sitting alone at the other end of an empty row. Of course I sat by him.
When it was over we walked out together and he mentioned his next activity. I asked if he'd mind if I tagged along to the music store around the corner. After browsing a bit he purchased a CD and we left. Standing on the curb in the light of the streetlamp, he asked what I was doing next. At 10pm I thought of my bed but shrugged instead. He said he needed to do some homework and was planning to watch a movie then proceeded to invite himself to my house for a movie/homework party.
We didn't talk much, just watched some random stuff on TV while I studied Spanish and he worked on homework. He gave me a new nickname: La Rue. When his eyes and brain were too tired to focus on homework he opened the new CD and pulled out the liner notes while importing. He read the lyrics to some of the songs as though reading poetry...
By this time I had set my Spanish aside and was curled up on the couch next to him. He said I could kick him out when I needed to go to bed. I wanted so say I could never kick him out, that I wished he would never leave, but I couldn't say that. I wanted to say that I'd endure any breadth and depth of sleep deprivation in order to not have to be alone. But I didn't say that either. He left around 12:30am, insisting he needed to let me get some sleep.
Now I'm sitting on my front porch swing waiting for him and a few others to come watch a movie with me...of course that's a bit of a rouse, I don't care if we watch a movie or just sit and talk. Thursdays are my difficult days because they are the most time I spend alone all week. Earlier I felt myself slipping so I sent a message requesting a few people to come for a movie at 7pm. Now it's 8:20pm and no one is here yet. They are coming, they said they are coming so I'm not sinking. I'm just writing and doing homework.
For every "hello" there is an equal "goodbye" whether because of death or just the ever-changing motions of life, I understand this and I'm learning to be more okay with it...but I don't want it to happen yet. I know "we can't stay like this forever but" I'm soaking up all the having them "next to me today" that I can. I'll sleep when I'm dead. Right now there are more important things than sleep.
It's 3am now, they've just left and I'm deciding whether to pull an all-nighter, writing my one page paper for American Lit or just go to bed and wake up in four and a half hours with the hope that it's enough to function and write my paper later.
The conversation tonight reassured me that they (particularly him) aren't going away any time soon. It baffles me every day when I call and he comes. They like spending time with me, they like me and being around me...that realization also baffles me. People I love and want to be around also love and want to be around me? How is that possible? And yet...they came, they stayed till almost 3am. We talked and understood each other in a way that most others don't seem to these days.
Yeah, I think I'll keep my eyes open a little longer and maybe I can hold on to this until I really am ready to let go.
"If we just keep our eyes wide open then everything will stay the same."
This is part of the reason for my recent insomnia. I don't want to go to sleep and wake to find them all gone. A few in particular.
Tuesday night was one of those moments. We had planned to ride together but my attempts at repairing my car took longer than expected. By the time it was drivable again I was already late. I decided to go anyway, hoping to catch at least half. I got there just before intermission. When I walked in, I saw him sitting alone at the other end of an empty row. Of course I sat by him.
When it was over we walked out together and he mentioned his next activity. I asked if he'd mind if I tagged along to the music store around the corner. After browsing a bit he purchased a CD and we left. Standing on the curb in the light of the streetlamp, he asked what I was doing next. At 10pm I thought of my bed but shrugged instead. He said he needed to do some homework and was planning to watch a movie then proceeded to invite himself to my house for a movie/homework party.
We didn't talk much, just watched some random stuff on TV while I studied Spanish and he worked on homework. He gave me a new nickname: La Rue. When his eyes and brain were too tired to focus on homework he opened the new CD and pulled out the liner notes while importing. He read the lyrics to some of the songs as though reading poetry...
By this time I had set my Spanish aside and was curled up on the couch next to him. He said I could kick him out when I needed to go to bed. I wanted so say I could never kick him out, that I wished he would never leave, but I couldn't say that. I wanted to say that I'd endure any breadth and depth of sleep deprivation in order to not have to be alone. But I didn't say that either. He left around 12:30am, insisting he needed to let me get some sleep.
Now I'm sitting on my front porch swing waiting for him and a few others to come watch a movie with me...of course that's a bit of a rouse, I don't care if we watch a movie or just sit and talk. Thursdays are my difficult days because they are the most time I spend alone all week. Earlier I felt myself slipping so I sent a message requesting a few people to come for a movie at 7pm. Now it's 8:20pm and no one is here yet. They are coming, they said they are coming so I'm not sinking. I'm just writing and doing homework.
For every "hello" there is an equal "goodbye" whether because of death or just the ever-changing motions of life, I understand this and I'm learning to be more okay with it...but I don't want it to happen yet. I know "we can't stay like this forever but" I'm soaking up all the having them "next to me today" that I can. I'll sleep when I'm dead. Right now there are more important things than sleep.
It's 3am now, they've just left and I'm deciding whether to pull an all-nighter, writing my one page paper for American Lit or just go to bed and wake up in four and a half hours with the hope that it's enough to function and write my paper later.
The conversation tonight reassured me that they (particularly him) aren't going away any time soon. It baffles me every day when I call and he comes. They like spending time with me, they like me and being around me...that realization also baffles me. People I love and want to be around also love and want to be around me? How is that possible? And yet...they came, they stayed till almost 3am. We talked and understood each other in a way that most others don't seem to these days.
Yeah, I think I'll keep my eyes open a little longer and maybe I can hold on to this until I really am ready to let go.
27 March 2011
A distressing A
The last paper I wrote for Bio Comp is what sent me spinning. It barely even scratched the surface, but the attempt at a dive sent me spinning. Now I can't seem to breach the surface again. But it earned me an A. It was the first paper I really felt, completely. I hate that I have to feel in order to write anything worth reading. The only feelings I have to write from are pain, loss, and insufficiency...and darkness. The best way for me to get an A on my next paper and in the class is to expound this story...but I'm not sure what that will do to my sanity.
On the one hand, writing the story and allowing it to be read and validated by my classmates and teacher might be just what I need to finish working through it and finally get over it. On the other hand, it might just pull me in and trap me under the depths, irretrievably...unless I'm already there.
Tonight was not so good. It was my mistake. I let myself hope that Thursday was not an exception, but the new rule. I let myself hope that...well, it doesn't matter what I hoped for, what matters is that things did not go at all the way I hoped, quite the opposite actually. The funny thing is that Fozzy was the one who noticed and cared...but I don't know him well enough yet to explain...and now he thinks I'm mad at him. I can't articulate when I'm in that place. I can't explain that it's not about what it seems to be about. I'm complex and I'm sentimental and I'm sensitive...and sometimes that part of me just doesn't play well with others. Niffer, Pacman, and The Artist were my saving grace...and after the fact, so was Fozzy.
I'm tired and hungry and emotional...so I'm going to bed now and maybe things will look better in the morning. And maybe I'll figure out another way to get an A in my class. Or maybe I'll find a way to get through it on my own without letting it drag me down and drown me.
On the one hand, writing the story and allowing it to be read and validated by my classmates and teacher might be just what I need to finish working through it and finally get over it. On the other hand, it might just pull me in and trap me under the depths, irretrievably...unless I'm already there.
Tonight was not so good. It was my mistake. I let myself hope that Thursday was not an exception, but the new rule. I let myself hope that...well, it doesn't matter what I hoped for, what matters is that things did not go at all the way I hoped, quite the opposite actually. The funny thing is that Fozzy was the one who noticed and cared...but I don't know him well enough yet to explain...and now he thinks I'm mad at him. I can't articulate when I'm in that place. I can't explain that it's not about what it seems to be about. I'm complex and I'm sentimental and I'm sensitive...and sometimes that part of me just doesn't play well with others. Niffer, Pacman, and The Artist were my saving grace...and after the fact, so was Fozzy.
I'm tired and hungry and emotional...so I'm going to bed now and maybe things will look better in the morning. And maybe I'll figure out another way to get an A in my class. Or maybe I'll find a way to get through it on my own without letting it drag me down and drown me.
26 March 2011
A Happy Birthday
I was really not excited about my birthday this year. Something about it being the last year of my 20's really cast a cloud over the event. I didn't want a big party, I didn't want a big fuss. But I didn't want to be alone either.
By the time I got on the train to come home from school I was feeling pretty glum. The cold, gloomy rain was partially at fault, but also, my thoughts were turning against me. In an attempt to not get my hopes up I tried to convince myself that everyone I had asked to come over last night would bail on me. No or low expectation means lower disappointment, right?
Bestest Friend and Ellie Belle came around 3:30pm. It's been a couple weeks since we've had a chance to sit and talk, and it was nice that Ellie Belle wasn't "outraged baby" for the first time in months. Bestest Friend is so strong and dignified that I sometimes forget that she struggles too. As I told her of the darkness I've been struggling with since spring break, she said, "Why don't you call me when you get like that? You need to call me...because I'm probably there too and I'm wishing you would call me. I need you too." She's married and has a baby and a job and I don't want to burden her with my troubles...but she says I'm not a burden, she says she wants me to call so we can unburden each other. I miss her more than I've ever missed almost anyone else in my life. She's the one who gets me. She's the one who knows everything and yet still tells me to call her w
hen I get into the darkness...she knows how dark it gets and yet, she wants to hold my hand through it. I'm so grateful for my Bestest Friends...so often through the years she's been the thought that keeps me hanging on when all I want to do it let go and give up. She's my sanity and my saving
grace.
Bestest Friend and Elle Belle had to go home around 5:30pm. I knew they wouldn't be available all night on my birthday so I made a backup plan for getting me through. About three weeks ago I asked Gonzo if he would make me his plans for the 24th. He was the one I most wanted because it is impossible for me to be depressed when I'm with him. At first I thought of making it just the two of us but then I decided I wanted a few others around too. I didn't want anything big. I didn't want to invite everyone I know and make it some huge ordeal that I would get lost and drown out in. So I thought about the people I feel most comfortable with. I thought about the people who really care about me. I thought about the people I know love me just because I'm me. I thought of the people who make me happy.
I told The Artist, HeyPay and Chelle they were "required". Niffer and Pacman were next to be invited. Pola and Pants, Page. Turner and Bob were invited but didn't make it. Interestingly enough, it was the last minute addition that really made the night so much better than I could have imagined. (He's taking the picture).
We'll call him Fozzy Bear (wocka wocka). At first he seems like some random outrageously spectacular comic relief type of guy. He's fairly new to the 47th ward but he's been coming to ward prayer and FHE so we've been in the process of bonding over the last month or so. We were going to go camping this weekend with Gonzo and a few others but I have to work so Fozzy rescheduled the outing for a few weeks from now so I can go too.
He showed up at my house last night carrying a bouquet of multi-colored daisies. He said every girl should have flowers on her birthday! HeyPay brought me white roses too! I was secretly hoping someone would give me flowers. White roses and rainbow daisies were perfect!
I decided I wanted to make dinner. I wanted to serve and to show my friends how much I appreciate them. From the Greek Festival last year I got a recipe for Greek Chicken. So I made that with lemon rice and salad. It turned out really well and there were no leftovers. Gonzo, Pola and Pants were late getting there and all the food was gone by the time they got there.
When Fozzy realized that I had made dinner on my birthday, he kinda yelled at me a little. He said I should have told him to bring food, that you shouldn't have to do anything on your birthday. Every time I started doing anything (cleaning up, getting the cookies for dessert, taking pictures) he told me loudly and sternly to sit down and let him or someone else do it. He also made me be in some pictures. He said I had to be in my own birthday pictures. I've never had someone be so delightfully bossy to me before. It made me feel special that he would be so insistent that I not do anything except enjoy my birthday!
Gonzo decided that salad was not enough food for him so he and Fozzy went to the store to get some snackage and brownie mix. When they got back Gonzo handed me the newest CD by The Decemberists, The King is Dead, and told me happy birthday. I was not expecting gifts of any sort (just being with friends was all I wanted), but flowers and that CD were the best gifts, they were thoughtful and "me". Gonzo made the brownies (my favorite treat) and then we played cards (something I was hoping to do anyway). I'm really good at organizing things, bringing people together and such, but I'm not so good figuring out what to do once everyone is assembled. Back in the day of Frogkisser and Hollyoak I provided the location (since the college is practically in my backyard, and then they took over form there. One thing I already love about Fozzy is that he's a doer. He organized a Muppet party for Saturday night and he's planning camp outs and all sorts of things. I can spread the word and he does the rest.
Besides playing cards, we watched some youtube videos and just kinda hung out and talked for a while. Then I had asked The Artist to bring the drawings he's been working on. Gonzo stopped in the pink room to play the piano for a minute and so The Artist and I sat there to look at the drawings while he pla
yed. Everyone else came in within minutes. Niffer and Pacman left, and Fozzy decided it was time for my other birthday present. A couple weeks ago after the ward talent show he demonstrated his talent as a fire eater. He went outside with HeyPay, Gonzo and Pola while I finished looking at The Artist's drawings. Then I went outside when Gonzo came back in and said that HeyPay was going to try eating fire too. It's a very exciting thing to watch, and I'm so impressed that Fozzy, Gonzo, HeyPay and Pola all did it...I couldn't get up my courage to do it yet though. I figured getting burned on my birthday wasn't the greatest idea.
All in all, it turned out to be one of the best birthdays I've ever had. The only one that even comes close is my 22nd birthday back in 2004...that was the last time most of my friends from the SLCC era were all together. That birthday was a week-long party with some of the dearest people I've ever known. Thinking back, I miss them all so much. I am, however, grateful for the new friends I have who made this year second best (if not tied for first) birthday of all time.
I am so grateful for all the dear friends I have had and for the ones I have now...as well as the ones I know will come in the future. I am grateful that I could celebrate my birthday with people who always make me feel loved and wanted. I love them all so much! :) If I have to continue being single, at least I'm in good company. At least we can travel the road together so none of us have to worry about making it alone.
By the time I got on the train to come home from school I was feeling pretty glum. The cold, gloomy rain was partially at fault, but also, my thoughts were turning against me. In an attempt to not get my hopes up I tried to convince myself that everyone I had asked to come over last night would bail on me. No or low expectation means lower disappointment, right?
Bestest Friend and Ellie Belle came around 3:30pm. It's been a couple weeks since we've had a chance to sit and talk, and it was nice that Ellie Belle wasn't "outraged baby" for the first time in months. Bestest Friend is so strong and dignified that I sometimes forget that she struggles too. As I told her of the darkness I've been struggling with since spring break, she said, "Why don't you call me when you get like that? You need to call me...because I'm probably there too and I'm wishing you would call me. I need you too." She's married and has a baby and a job and I don't want to burden her with my troubles...but she says I'm not a burden, she says she wants me to call so we can unburden each other. I miss her more than I've ever missed almost anyone else in my life. She's the one who gets me. She's the one who knows everything and yet still tells me to call her w
hen I get into the darkness...she knows how dark it gets and yet, she wants to hold my hand through it. I'm so grateful for my Bestest Friends...so often through the years she's been the thought that keeps me hanging on when all I want to do it let go and give up. She's my sanity and my saving
grace.
Bestest Friend and Elle Belle had to go home around 5:30pm. I knew they wouldn't be available all night on my birthday so I made a backup plan for getting me through. About three weeks ago I asked Gonzo if he would make me his plans for the 24th. He was the one I most wanted because it is impossible for me to be depressed when I'm with him. At first I thought of making it just the two of us but then I decided I wanted a few others around too. I didn't want anything big. I didn't want to invite everyone I know and make it some huge ordeal that I would get lost and drown out in. So I thought about the people I feel most comfortable with. I thought about the people who really care about me. I thought about the people I know love me just because I'm me. I thought of the people who make me happy.
I told The Artist, HeyPay and Chelle they were "required". Niffer and Pacman were next to be invited. Pola and Pants, Page. Turner and Bob were invited but didn't make it. Interestingly enough, it was the last minute addition that really made the night so much better than I could have imagined. (He's taking the picture).
We'll call him Fozzy Bear (wocka wocka). At first he seems like some random outrageously spectacular comic relief type of guy. He's fairly new to the 47th ward but he's been coming to ward prayer and FHE so we've been in the process of bonding over the last month or so. We were going to go camping this weekend with Gonzo and a few others but I have to work so Fozzy rescheduled the outing for a few weeks from now so I can go too.
He showed up at my house last night carrying a bouquet of multi-colored daisies. He said every girl should have flowers on her birthday! HeyPay brought me white roses too! I was secretly hoping someone would give me flowers. White roses and rainbow daisies were perfect!
I decided I wanted to make dinner. I wanted to serve and to show my friends how much I appreciate them. From the Greek Festival last year I got a recipe for Greek Chicken. So I made that with lemon rice and salad. It turned out really well and there were no leftovers. Gonzo, Pola and Pants were late getting there and all the food was gone by the time they got there.
When Fozzy realized that I had made dinner on my birthday, he kinda yelled at me a little. He said I should have told him to bring food, that you shouldn't have to do anything on your birthday. Every time I started doing anything (cleaning up, getting the cookies for dessert, taking pictures) he told me loudly and sternly to sit down and let him or someone else do it. He also made me be in some pictures. He said I had to be in my own birthday pictures. I've never had someone be so delightfully bossy to me before. It made me feel special that he would be so insistent that I not do anything except enjoy my birthday!Gonzo decided that salad was not enough food for him so he and Fozzy went to the store to get some snackage and brownie mix. When they got back Gonzo handed me the newest CD by The Decemberists, The King is Dead, and told me happy birthday. I was not expecting gifts of any sort (just being with friends was all I wanted), but flowers and that CD were the best gifts, they were thoughtful and "me". Gonzo made the brownies (my favorite treat) and then we played cards (something I was hoping to do anyway). I'm really good at organizing things, bringing people together and such, but I'm not so good figuring out what to do once everyone is assembled. Back in the day of Frogkisser and Hollyoak I provided the location (since the college is practically in my backyard, and then they took over form there. One thing I already love about Fozzy is that he's a doer. He organized a Muppet party for Saturday night and he's planning camp outs and all sorts of things. I can spread the word and he does the rest.
Besides playing cards, we watched some youtube videos and just kinda hung out and talked for a while. Then I had asked The Artist to bring the drawings he's been working on. Gonzo stopped in the pink room to play the piano for a minute and so The Artist and I sat there to look at the drawings while he pla
yed. Everyone else came in within minutes. Niffer and Pacman left, and Fozzy decided it was time for my other birthday present. A couple weeks ago after the ward talent show he demonstrated his talent as a fire eater. He went outside with HeyPay, Gonzo and Pola while I finished looking at The Artist's drawings. Then I went outside when Gonzo came back in and said that HeyPay was going to try eating fire too. It's a very exciting thing to watch, and I'm so impressed that Fozzy, Gonzo, HeyPay and Pola all did it...I couldn't get up my courage to do it yet though. I figured getting burned on my birthday wasn't the greatest idea.All in all, it turned out to be one of the best birthdays I've ever had. The only one that even comes close is my 22nd birthday back in 2004...that was the last time most of my friends from the SLCC era were all together. That birthday was a week-long party with some of the dearest people I've ever known. Thinking back, I miss them all so much. I am, however, grateful for the new friends I have who made this year second best (if not tied for first) birthday of all time.
I am so grateful for all the dear friends I have had and for the ones I have now...as well as the ones I know will come in the future. I am grateful that I could celebrate my birthday with people who always make me feel loved and wanted. I love them all so much! :) If I have to continue being single, at least I'm in good company. At least we can travel the road together so none of us have to worry about making it alone.
19 March 2011
words that mean more than they say
"I'm not a bad man. I know I'm the villain in your story, but I'm not a bad man."
~ Grey's Anatomy
Each person has a story titled, Life According to Me. This is how each individual sees the world. This is the culmination of experience and education. This story determines how we interpret and respond to life and to other people. We all interact in each others' stories; we all have to learn how to understand and accept each others' stories.
Each person who comes into our lives plays a role. Some are small and seem insignificant, others are constant and extremely significant. Some are heroes, some are villains, some are comic relief, some are tragic figures, some are just there. The thing to remember about each of these people who participate in our lives is that they are much more than just how we see them. A person who is a hero in my life could very well play a villain in someone else's life. The same is true in the reverse. Just because someone has been a villain in my life, it doesn't make him a bad man.
And, this applies further. Just because one man has been a villain, doesn't mean all men are villains. Or, just because a man has been hurt by a woman, doesn't mean they will be hurt by all women. Each individual is unique and each experience is a new opportunity to rewrite bits and pieces of the story. With each new experience, new understanding and a new perspective are possibilities.
I'm just rambling, trying to figure things out.
~ Grey's Anatomy
Each person has a story titled, Life According to Me. This is how each individual sees the world. This is the culmination of experience and education. This story determines how we interpret and respond to life and to other people. We all interact in each others' stories; we all have to learn how to understand and accept each others' stories.
Each person who comes into our lives plays a role. Some are small and seem insignificant, others are constant and extremely significant. Some are heroes, some are villains, some are comic relief, some are tragic figures, some are just there. The thing to remember about each of these people who participate in our lives is that they are much more than just how we see them. A person who is a hero in my life could very well play a villain in someone else's life. The same is true in the reverse. Just because someone has been a villain in my life, it doesn't make him a bad man.
And, this applies further. Just because one man has been a villain, doesn't mean all men are villains. Or, just because a man has been hurt by a woman, doesn't mean they will be hurt by all women. Each individual is unique and each experience is a new opportunity to rewrite bits and pieces of the story. With each new experience, new understanding and a new perspective are possibilities.
I'm just rambling, trying to figure things out.
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