Friday, May 17, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
so i guess i'll write. it's what i do. usually to my detriment.
previous to me becoming physically ill, it was an emotionally rough week. work hours were long and arduous, oslo's birthday would have been on Wednesday the 8th, and the thought of my 15 year reunion looming ahead caught me off guard. the reunion falls on the night before/the day of my 33rd birthday. i will have been out of school for 15 years and i have no husband, no kids, no pets, no house, no great job, no amazing talent, and i'm not skinny. i mean, that's what matters to the world at large, right?
but i do have friend(s) and family. when paula brought her fish by (i'm watching it while she's gone to see her fam) on wednesday night, she found me still in my work clothes listening to colin hay's "waiting for my real life to begin" on repeat. so she made me change and we went to cheddar's. much laughter and (too) much food was had. good thing i've got people in my life to keep me sane.
last week i was cleaning out papers and articles i had saved, and i came across a multi-part article called "how to become the person you were meant to be." hilarious, i know. i haven't read the whole thing, but the first part (of which i haven't read completely either), called "where do i start?" was written by one of my favorite authors/people: Anne Lamott. this, this is the reason i love her:
We begin to find and become ourselves when we notice how we are already found, already truly, entirely, wildly, messily, marvelously who we were born to be. The only problem is that there is also so much other stuff, typically fixations with how people perceive us, how to get more of the things that we think will make us happy, and with keeping our weight down. So the real issue is how do we gently stop being who we aren't? how do we relieve ourselves of the false fronts of people-pleasing and affectation, the obsessive need for power and security, the backpack of old pain, and the psychic Spanx that keeps us smaller and contained?
Here's how I became myself: mess, failure, mistakes, disappointments, and extensive reading; limbo, indecision, setbacks, addiction, public embarrassment, and endless conversations with my best women friends; the loss of people without whom I could not live, the loss of pets that left me reeling, dizzying betrayals but much greater loyalty, and overall, choosing as my motto William Blake's line that we are here to learn to endure the beams of love.
--Anne Lamottif only i could follow that advice. i don't think it's wrong for me to yearn for romantic love, though. maybe it's the thought that i can never have it that makes it hurt so much. maybe i could have it if i lived in a time where people got married and stayed married, even if they hated each other eventually. but not today. no one could ever love me forever. and less than forever hurts too much.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
mostly i just want to be left alone. there's the rub. in the age of the internet, i want to put my feelings out there. i want to write. i want to have some sort of a cathartic experience. but i don't want to talk about it. and maybe i won't have any friends left. but at least i won't have to talk about it.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
i came home and my toilet water was pink. i'm the only one with a key.
i don't know how much longer i can keep doing this temporary administrative job without pulling my hair out. and i want a new haircut. one with less pomp and circumstance and more feeling. i thought about shaving my head, but i should wait for that, i think.
i want to eat curry in bed and listen to the rain pouring down. i wish i had a roof and not just a ceiling.
there was a man, well, a boy perhaps, who asked me what song i'd walk down the aisle to. he was part of not quite a couple at a wedding of people i didn't quite know. i said probably something from the 90s, kriss kross, perhaps, or hip hop hooray. but, i don't plan to get married. when did i become uncohabitable? i don't own an iron. last night i had fish and jellied toast for dinner. well, preserved toast, i guess. with not quite butter.
i dream of having another animal companion. a partner in crime. but i'm not quite responsible enough. i'm not ready to give my heart away again. i've been doing too much of that lately anyway. sometimes days are measured by the amount i can make you laugh. other days are measured by how much i want shells and cheese.
my watch is too loud. it ticks away the time of nothing happening. i worry about the fate of me. i watched bully. if i were a superhero i would have an origin story. but i'm not even a regular hero. i do like sandwiches though. can consistently reinforced worthlessness ever be changed back? what determine's a thing's worth? the thing or the owner of the thing?
sometimes my pen gets me in trouble and my thoughts feel like mr. dolores claiborne falling and falling forever down a well.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
my days are filled with diet soda caffeine and wanting to crawl under my desk at work. every time i think there's an end in sight, the end moves farther away from me like some kind of cartoon cave drawn on a wall. i want to get out of this hole, but every time i start climbing, i realize i've been turned upside down and am only digging my hole deeper.
i don't want to talk about it. i don't want to get better. i don't DESERVE to get better. it's my fault that i'm fat. it's my fault that oslo died. it's my fault for not getting better help when i was younger. it's my fault that i didn't make a better life for myself. it's my fault that i never learned to be a girly girl that boys would like. it's my fault that i've driven most of my friends away.
pablo neruda says "tonight i can write the saddest lines." well, tonight i can start the easiest projects and never finish them. i can buy the best books and never read them. i can love the most men and never know them. i agree with ed sheeran when he says "tell you the truth i hate, what didn't kill me, it never made me stronger at all." i think it would have been easier to have never loved at all.
so i guess i'll do laundry and watch tv, and my life will be the same day after day after day. i'll keep hating myself for loving someone and try to sleep away the pain like i always do.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
- social awkwardness
- low self-esteem
- facial hair
- blotchy skin
Sunday, March 31, 2013
i want to write about happy things like my love for cochran and midas whale and coconut macaroons and the thought of riding roller coasters with my sister. but all i have left is a deep seated hatred for myself and a severe irritation with pretty much everyone else in the world.
i'm even a failure at writing.