The Truth Is…

I’m moving back in with my parents, but I really don’t want to. My family’s more chaotic than I am and I am quieter than they are and more prone to rational discourse over irrational yelling than they are and I’m more sensitive to disruption than they are and all of these differences really get on my nerves after awhile. But this is the best route to getting a car, I guess, which is the only way I’m going to stop feeling like a burden on anyone anymore…

My mother wanted to see Easy A at the theater tonight, but I really didn’t want to. I really have absolutely no desire to see any movie before I see the Deathly Hallows movie. I know that’s irrational and lame, but the prospect of seeing anything else right now simply does not appeal to me, even if I wouldn’t have to pay for my ticket. I simply would not enjoy it and it would therefore be a complete waste of my time and money. My mother’s bashing of Harry Potter doesn’t exactly make me want to please her by NOT seeing Harry Potter, either.

So I somehow managed to make the premise of my friends’ party as the excuse for not going to the movies tonight. But I’m likely not going to that party anyway. I don’t really feel like soliciting anyone for a ride anymore… I just feel like a burden, extra baggage. And my friends I think are not in the place to go out of their way to even ask me, not even Liz, which I understand, considering: my moods the last few times we’ve all been together likely hasn’t made anyone feel like going out of their way to make sure I’m there, either. I am also in a situation where I really have little to nothing to contribute to the party. So yeah, I’d just be a mooch, a burden, and I think this is finally wearing on everyone’s patience. In short, I currently have NO redeeming qualities. And that makes me feel cheap. And I don’t want to grovel and beg for attention or company. I’m kind of tired of trying and doing that sort of thing right now. If they don’t want me, they don’t want me. I can hardly blame them anyway. I should just shrug it off and except my losses and move on, like the cold and rational adult I should be.

It’s a shame, too. I think I would’ve been in a better mood tonight if I could have gone, too, because I actually got a job offer today, and the job’s actually a pretty sweet deal. I was also just generally feeling pretty damn swell most of this day, independent and owning my own life and totally nonchalant (easy breezy, divorced from all of the negative emotions that have been plaguing me on and off for the last couple of years, and whatnot), rational and unable to be brought down, even if I was also far from euphoric as well (admittedly). I kind of reached this happy functional whatever numb place, somewhere in the middle. Like, it felt like nothing could touch me, and I could just float on that delicate emotion long enough so that no other emotions could touch me, hurt me.

But then I got home and the room project didn’t go as planned and my mother woke up and everyone started yelling at each other and meanwhile the the hour for my friends’ party loomed near and I realized that I wasn’t actually going and I realized I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep up the happy momentum from my job offer for the rest of the night anyway. I now (and still, in spite of the job offer) feel pretty damn cheap, worthless, and abandoned… and dammit, it’s just a really shitty, crappy, fucked up kind of feeling for ANYONE to have, sensitive or not.

So my plans for the evening, I guess, are going to be house chores, homework, a few eps of Legend of the Seeker, and maybe some Maple Story. Meanwhile in my mind I’m sometimes wildly contemplating just leaving everything behind once I get my car and my independence. You know, start out fresh, and make it so I don’t bother anyone again. The problem with that is… I just fucking care too damn much for my own good. I don’t know how to bring myself to just… let people go. That’s such an incredibly hard thing to do. For some reason I can’t bear the thought of never talking to them again, especially… especially some people…

Yeah, I could REALLY use a pick-me-up right about now… instead I’m stuck with this feeling that’s halfway between wanting to cry out for help and wanting to just silently fade away and disappear.

I’m just going to try not to think about it.

(Hopefully things will be better next year.)

EDIT: So I’m reaching that cold, numb place again. Maybe I could stay here long enough to get through all this and turn my life around and all that jazz. Who knows? We’ll see.

On a somewhat unrelated note, I kind of want to go clubbing sometime in the next few months. I don’t crave it often but it’s been awhile. Hmm. Dunno.

To ten million fireflies…

 I slept in far too late today, as I did yesterday.

Part of me feels all this sleep is a good thing.  In theory I’m catching up on all the sleep I didn’t get while at the beach.  I’m also most definitely dreaming while I sleep, and in theory this is my psyche’s way of working through my problems, which again is a good thing.

However, part of me feels guilty for sleeping so much.  When I sleep, I’m not being productive.  I’m hiding from reality and the waking world.  Meanwhile, my life continues to stagnate, rot and fester.  I’m not really sure what I should be doing when I’m awake half the time anyway, so I struggle to see the point of my guilt.  And it’s true that there’s a part of me that can’t stand being fully awake and cognitive right now as well, which is why I’ve had roughly two shot of liquor every night since returning from the beach.  It numbs everything, makes me think and care less.  It allows me to switch to autopilot so I can mentally check out while still getting things done.  It’s the only way I seem to be able to get anything done anymore, be it homework or housework.  Because I can’t for the life of me turn my brain off.  It seems to always be buzzing or clicking nervously away, and sometimes it’s just downright annoying.

But it’s not all bad.  Granted, I’ve been depressed for months now, and likely have been less social and active as a result.  Hell, maybe I’ve really gone off the deep end this time. But sometimes everything has to be stripped down completely in order to be built up again.  Maybe I’m getting ready to do just that… soon!

Really, it’s the small things that cheer me up, comfort and encourage me.  I feel compelled to take a moment to appreciate these things…

Two days ago, I took the bus to the mall.  It’s the first time I’ve taken the bus anywhere in quite some time, and it felt good just to get out of my usual living zone (TWU and the Square).  For the first time in awhile I felt like an active participant in life and less like a ghost, I guess because I was going SOMEWHERE and doing SOMETHING and completely of my own accord.  I felt the same sense of “do what I want when I want” that I grasped at so desperately while at the beach.  Just that little taste of personal freedom and empowerment was very psychologically beneficial, I think. 

I bought scented lotions from Bath ‘n’ Body Works, read books at Barnes ‘n’ Noble, drooled over shoes at DSW, gushed at cute (albeit sick and slightly depressing) kittens at the pet store and indulged in some awesome greasy food at my favorite mall pizza joint.  Hell, if I had gotten there earlier I might’ve gone to a movie.  Basically I took myself out on a sort of teenager-esque date at the mall and enjoyed every minute of it, guilt free.   It felt good to get back down to basics.

The radio’s also been a strange comfort for me.  My netbook, my iPod, and Pandora have all made regular radio pretty much unnecessary for me this last year or two.  And then a few days ago, my netbook abruptly died and I left my iPod’s charger at my mother’s house.  And so suddenly it’s like the power had been cut off in my house, and I was left completely in the dark.  So I (figuratively) lit a few candles.  Suddenly, as if I gained a newfound appreciation for firelight, and I gained a newly rediscovered appreciation for the flickering buzz and hiss of the everyday radio.  I seriously just took what could’ve been a bad moment and made it into a good one. 

Only once or twice have I heard something I absolutely abhor (gay-bashing “Christian” talk and Nickleback music, to be more specific).  Instead, for the most part I’ve heard many songs that I’ve forgotten that I’ve forgotten, even.  It’s all so stimulating and random and reminds me of some of the few things in my adolescence that also kept me sane and safe way back then, just like this.  (And really, everything was so much more chaotic back then!) I’ve even heard what I thought was some of my more eccentric musical tastes on the radio once or twice (no Tegan and Sara yet, though, but here’s hoping)!

Actually getting shit done is also encouraging, but I lack discipline and follow-through.  The trick is getting started in the first place.  It’s kind of like hard-core exercise, which I put off for the longest time but feel absolutely exhilarated and enthralled once I actually do it.  I just need to focus on how I feel once I’m done and I’ve accomplished something.  Also?  Baby steps and micro-tasks, perhaps.

Besides all that, it’s the even smaller and simpler things that are somehow ever more significant and helpful.  The comfort of a clean house (which will be easier to attain once I live on my own and sans incontinent housemate’s dog, I think).  The weight and warmth of a cat curled up and sleeping on my stomach.  A glass of wine and a good book.  The way sunlight filters through the thin turquoise drapes on the back window.  A time and place to paint, draw, write, and dance.  The smell of Fall.  The smell of rain.  The smell of rain in the Fall.  The sounds of the waves crashing on the beach and the feel and taste of a salty breeze in my face.  Even the ridiculous childlike joy that is “wave-jumping.”  Do I really absolutely need to share the joy of all these things with another living soul?  No, I suppose not.  I guess I should be well past that now.

It’s funny, but my dreams of the future are becoming much simpler than they have ever been before.  I think life has finally defeated and expelled some of my grander dreams.  Instead I simply dream of having a place to call my own, with my kind of furniture and food and drink and life.  And it would be nice, maybe, to be able to send my friends and family presents at Christmas and at birthdays, and indulge my godson in the goodies and advice I would’ve given my own kids if I had any.  There’s not even the rather vague idea of another person in the picture, at least not intimately so, at least not anymore. 

I am really looking forward to living on my own come December, even if I have to work more to pay for such a thing (that is, of course, if I manage to pull it off in the first place).  I’m looking forward to a house I can actually keep clean, and a place I wouldn’t be embarrassed by if I invited friends over.  I’m looking forward to getting my teeth fixed, my hormones level, and my bone spur removed.  I’m even looking forward to finally getting Mana’s future sister, Soma, so they can cuddle with each other and I can cuddle with both of them.  I’m looking forward to life as a cat-lady librarian, a keeper of the books, the female Quasimodo of the library instead of the bells.   I’m looking forward to a stable, chaos-free life full of good food and the occasional vacation.  Sad, but true.

 And when I get there, and the world seems to have actually beaten me, there will still be a part of me that is stubborn and rebellious.  A part of me that thinks and creates and dares to ask questions and encourages generation after generation to do just the same.  A part of me who still wants to be a catalyst and seeks to fulfill the self-appointed mission of changing the way people THINK first, in order to eventually change the way they ACT.

Anywho…

Final thoughts?  And, lastly?  I need to find true peace and comfort in my solitude.  I need to nurture myself, for once.  It’s nice having other people but it shouldn’t be the be-all and end-all for me, because that brings intense fears of abandonment and opens one up to injury, and jealousy.  I shouldn’t be always sacrificing so much of my own life’s stability in a desperate attempt to hang with other people all the time.  I need to stop living for the next vacation, the next holiday, the next drink, the next concert. I need to stop putting off my own needs for the sake of others’ wants all the time.  Because how can I be good to others if I’m not even good to myself? Instead, I just come across as a total ass, as an angsty little emo thing. I need to learn to take better care of myself, and actually indulge myself every once in awhile (like the mall, not the booze) without feeling guilty about it.  Because it’s my life, my choices, my consequences, my values, my empowerment, my freedom.  And so what if no one else may know all the things that make me smile, laugh and cry?  That’s what blogging and creative endeavors are for!  It’s enough that I know.  It should be enough that I know.  And if someone else may know one day?  Even better, but it shouldn’t be necessary, and I’ve been going through life thinking it is necessary.

For the next few weeks, I think, I’m gonna learn to be a better friend to myself.  And then maybe I can be a better friend to everyone else.

Today, I’m gonna clean house, clean myself up, do homework, and maybe watch some Legend of the Seeker.  I’m going to be a happy little pudgling hermit, be a better friend to myself, sing to the radio and paint my nails just for the hell of it.  Oh, and I’m going to post this where anyone can see it, if they actually want to see it.  That is all.

A Family of Trees Falling…

There is really no way to tell this story, to do it justice.  There’s really no way to be poetic about it, and a short story written on the subject would easily turn into a novel the size of War and Peace.

I am talking about my family.

I wish I could convey to you, in a beautiful, poetic and subtle manner, all that is going on with my family right now. I wish I could communicate all of the complexities involved, over the years and throughout many generations, all the many issues and ailments and small triumphs and defeats.

But I can’t.  I don’t have the time, the patience, the skill, the wisdom, nor the ambition right now to tell you everything.  But oh, I wish I could tell you everything.

I wish there was someone out there that would want to listen to this story, too, to hear it and know it, and know me.  To handle me crying and talking incoherently… and just, know…

Still, I have to say something.

So here, in no particular order and sans sense,  is a cloud of words and feelings and actions and ideas about the subject:

Check the tags.