Snippets...

I seem to spend all of my time shifting between the child who dutifully creates sand castles and the bully who destroys them.  I am constantly fighting against my own efforts at self-sabotage.


My friend Rachel, on her last visit to my area, once illustrated succinctly the probable psychological motivations around my weight gain over the past few years.  She asked me if my gaining weight wasn't a shield to protect me from those who might want to be with me.  Well, of course it is!  I'm terrified of the prospect of being loved and let down by another significant other.  *shudder*  The horror!  Of course, it's never quite that simple.  Or is it?  The whole "fat as a shield" thing is such an old story, I'm a bit embarrassed to cop to it.  Oh well.  Not everything I do is wondrous and amazing.

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Conversations held in my head
while drifting off to sleep...


If I let you stick around long enough,
wouldn't you eventually give up on me,
like I gave up on myself?


If I allow you a room into my life,
wouldn't you soon tire of my ways and moods,
resenting me and yearning for escape?


I know I do.
I know I would.
I know I have.


I cannot think of any one lover
from my past
who has not soon cast me off
for another lover,
another drug,
another place,
another piece
of peace
without me.


It angers me so,
to be so typically bogged down
in rejection issues.


I'm too smart for this shit!
Aren't I?


Aren't I the one, the smart one,
the too smart for YOU one,
who isn't supposed to need any
one?


But there I go again,
heartlessly kicking into shambles
my painstakingly built sand castle
and running off shrieking down the beach.
Like a mad banshee.


And here I go again,
wondering why I don't have any one
to run to.


And yet.
When I'm being honest...


Aren't I the one
who shuts down,
who closes shutters,
who pushes people out
my door?


And aren't I
the one
who won't let any
one
in
long enough to grab
a good hand hold?
To hold
my hand,
my heart?


Ever the one afraid,
that the NEXT time it falls
not all of the tape in the universe
will be able to repair it.

Brain Drivel

 I've been somewhat depressed as of late.  Well, for the past few years.  It's not exactly constant- if I am busy I forget, which is why I like to stay busy.  I endeavor to stay busy.  My mood/levels of activity/interacting with others will always fluctuate/vacillate.  I try to schedule a lot of stuff for me to do:  work, friend dates, camping/piratey events, music viewing and photography, family obligations, and whatnot.  Then, I get overwhelmed with the intense amount of energy that it requires for me, an overly-sensitive person, to be around other humans, and I burn out and shut down.  That is when I sit on my couch, wasting countless hours reading/researching/being online/feeling useless and fat.  That is when I feel the depression and get annoyed with myself.  That is what I've been doing a LOT lately, since I burned myself out this past year or so with my efforts to connect with a male of the species in a meaningful/sexually satisfying/lasting way.  Waste.  Of.  Time.   More on this later...


I've always been annoyed with myself for how much of my mental energy is spent in fussing over love-relationships and my lack of/need for having one.  Of course, when I write "love-relationships" I am not referring to any relationship that involves love.  I have plentiful great relationships with people who I love.  I am referring to love/sex/heart-wrenching relationships.  The kind that involves SEX.  Yes people.  I am talking about sex.  But in a loving and healthy, lasting relationship.  This is something I've never really experienced in my life.  Well, not one that's lasted for more than 3 months.  This makes me sad and frustrated.  It makes me want to give up entirely and it also makes me want to KEEP TRYING.  Clearly, I am torn.  Far too much of my writing has been about this topic.  FAR.  TOO.  MUCH.  But that is what engages us humans, isn't it?  Loving relationships?  Whole religions are made from our need for this love.  Whole regimes are built on exploiting this need for love that we all feel.  Sigh.


Anyhow.  Lately, I've been in one of my more reclusive phases, and have been staying home more, avoiding other humans.  This is in part because of the sad reality that I really cannot afford to go out and do as much as I used to, financially.  Mainly though, it's because I'm hiding out and trying to regroup and rebuild.  I've put my neck out a few times too many in the past two years, and I'm a bit shell-shocked.  I like to think I am not that affected by heartache and by my disappointment in other humans (and myself- the killer), but I am deeply affected by these things.  DEEPLY.  I have always been deeply affected by others and my constant failure to comprehend or fit in quite how I feel like I should.  I do realize this affliction of mine is universal, which does provide me comfort and encourages me to keep trying.  Indeed, my skills at human interactions that feel successful have improved greatly over the years.  I'm mostly okay and quite happy with myself, even a bit proud of myself.  Aside from the ever-present depression that is.


I feel like I'm constantly embattled with myself; fighting to stay positive, fighting to Get Things Done, fighting to conquer challenges and make myself proud, and fighting desperately to avoid sinking into and being overcome by depression and anxiety and the shit pit that comes with giving up and letting my bad moods take over my life.  I've been there before, and it was literally living a nightmare of hopelessness and despair.  I don't want to go back.  Whenever I am around people who are sunk into that pit of shit, I feel it deeply.  I am an empath and I feel others' realities deeply.  That is one of the reasons why I need so much down time/recovery time/alone time.  That is also why I can't stand being around my mother for very long.  She's a living example of my worst nightmare realized.  As sad as that is- it is true; she's a living "don't become this" for me, and it kills me to be around her for very long.  Being around anyone who is being controlled by their mental illness affects me in a very uncomfortable way.  I can literally FEEL the anxiety and panic they are experiencing.  Of course, it is probably merely my projections and anxieties and panic and depression, being recalled by seeing in others what triggers my shit.  Blah blah.  Who cares?  My reality is my reality and what I experience is what matters to me.  My rationalization of my reality is all that matters to me- it's all I can control or dabble with, and so it's my focus.  I don't concern myself over-much with whether or not anyone agrees with me- that is irrelevant- I try to concern myself with what I can control somewhat:  what I am doing, how I feel, and who I care about.  Nothing else matters.


What I logged on here to express, actually, is some thoughts I had as I was drifting off to sleep last night.  All that other stuff is just the preface.  Now that I've written it al though, the main body seems too tiny.  I think I'll make it into its own entry.  Stay tuned...