This is the self-helped boy who helped himself to whatever he could except whatever could help him help himself escape the recursion of relationships with other selves.
This is the man-made man who made men make mis(s)takes.
This is the underhanded [under hand] of the handsome handyman whose hands had a hand in asking your hand.
This is the brain of a brain that thinks in rhythm and rhyme, meter and time in a musical mind, and this is the problem:
Any line, any time, any rhythm or rhyme
Any boy, any man, any
hand
mistake or
relationship
can
be disrupted.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
The Keeper
He's going to hurt himself.
You can see it in his eyes the way he plans to take you by surprise, and I'm sorry.
This is how it dies.
Your glare isn't much of a disguise.
but Who needs lies when you've got those eyes?
I'm lying too and prying and trying and kicking and sticking to what I've been told I'm supposed to do and hoping you are too. Breaking through. And something new,
nice advice think twice lame ass excuse for unwarranted abuse
and we're both engaged
to this pain
brain stuck no luck moving past dead last dead beat that's me
me one me two me three
three times over three times three the math has gotten the better of me
and so have you
superficial pausing causing you to misread mislead misneed
me
me
me
and who's this really about shout it to
me
keep shouting keep kicking and biting and inviting
me
keep looking and taking and making
me
keep me
me
me
keep
me
You can see it in his eyes the way he plans to take you by surprise, and I'm sorry.
This is how it dies.
Your glare isn't much of a disguise.
but Who needs lies when you've got those eyes?
I'm lying too and prying and trying and kicking and sticking to what I've been told I'm supposed to do and hoping you are too. Breaking through. And something new,
nice advice think twice lame ass excuse for unwarranted abuse
and we're both engaged
to this pain
brain stuck no luck moving past dead last dead beat that's me
me one me two me three
three times over three times three the math has gotten the better of me
and so have you
superficial pausing causing you to misread mislead misneed
me
me
me
and who's this really about shout it to
me
keep shouting keep kicking and biting and inviting
me
keep looking and taking and making
me
keep me
me
me
keep
me
Sometimes
sleepless night sleeveless shirt feeling tight
forever
ever-fading
voice caught on tape
we moved away from one another
and i don't recognize her
only
sometimes
speechless toy seamless boy just feeling
forever
ever-feeling
boy by himself
only
sometimes
forever
ever-fading
voice caught on tape
we moved away from one another
and i don't recognize her
only
sometimes
speechless toy seamless boy just feeling
forever
ever-feeling
boy by himself
only
sometimes
Saturday, March 12, 2011
One-Year and Many Thoughts
Well, this doesn't start with my freaking out, so that's a step in the right direction, but although this isn't going to be terribly negative and depressing, I'm fairly certain there is nothing positive about the situation either. I just used a lot of words to say nothing, which means I must be trying too hard to make this not sound whiny or desperate. I'm far from those things, really. I'm happy. I'm really happy with myself and what I have managed to accomplish, yet I'm also ashamed of myself and disappointed in myself, and I can't quite shake what I'm feeling. And then there are the things that I really can't talk to anyone about. I guess that is the downside to everyone knowing everyone else in your circle of friends.
I've made videos and written about this in a lot of other places, but maybe I should take some time to work this out right here. It's been just over a year since I began taking testosterone, and I could finish this sentence in any number of ways. Not all of the changes have been physical, and a physical change does not necessarily equate with a visible change. The emotions I experience have not changed, but how I handle the experience definitely has. I think I've improved in some ways, which may have nothing to do with the hormone at all, but I also believe that there were periods throughout the past 12 months during which the fluctuation in my hormone levels became an added burden. I'm thinking back to the difficult time I had dealing with my family and housing situations over the summer. I honestly could not figure out how to handle these things, and I felt like I was fighting with myself more and more. It felt like a physical battle, and I couldn't always come out victorious. And then I started failing to meet my obligations, which only made certain people harder to deal with, and that's where things began to get out of control. I have no problem talking about that situation anymore, and maybe that's one of the things I need to get off my chest.
There is a very large part of me that knows that he knows what he did was wrong. A huge part of me wants to believe that he really does feel these things--that my decision made sense in light of what was happening. I feel that he does indeed know that he played a pivotal role in helping to force me out, even disregarding the final incident. I'm struggling with this thought that I can't force out of my head. I keep seeing people here and there around campus--people with whom I used to be very close--and I receive nothing but positive vibes from most of them. I'm usually pretty good about picking up on these things, and I'm glad that I know this now. I now know that sometimes my negative emotions and feelings are not coming from inside of me, and being able to separate my own emotions from those of others has been immensely helpful. I want to start talking to them again. And I kept feeling terrible in trying to get this problem solved through the University because the only thing I felt like I was doing was getting revenge. I kept turning it over in my head, and it never made me feel good. Why would I ever want anyone else to feel what I felt? Why would I want to take from someone else what was taken from me? And how would that help me at all? I don't want him to lose it. I just want him to understand what he did and why it hurt me so much, and maybe I should have done this a long time ago. Maybe I should have had that conversation with him in person. It's funny because I know I was about to. I was going downstairs to have that exact conversation--to talk about how things had gotten so bad with the others that I felt like leaving. I wanted to talk about the fact that I knew why everyone was upset and had been upset, that I knew I wasn't always meeting the obligations that I said I would, that I knew something needed to be done. I prayed to be punished. I prayed to have someone tell me that I needed to make up for what I had failed to do. I prayed for someone to have an actual conversation with me instead of talking about me behind my back and mocking me for things that were completely unrelated. I prayed for someone to act like a fucking grown-up in that situation. Maybe I was getting so messed up and so easily frustrated because I was trying to get their attention--trying to reach out for them to help me when I knew I was not in a place to help myself. I know that I had become pretty vocal about things that bothered me. And I refused to keep quiet about the things that mattered to me anymore. And then conflicts arose. I'm quite an easy person to deal with in reality. I don't think I'm an unreasonable person. You just have to talk to me. But I know that's not easy. And because I know that isn't easy, I'm even more understanding. But I felt betrayed that night. I'm letting you all know. I felt like my heart had been ripped out by the one person I thought I could trust that night. The whole day had been a nightmare, and I had to walk from East Liberty to the house in the rain, and all I wanted to do was just sit by myself for a few minutes so that I could regain control. To be mocked for that--in the middle of it--was something I really couldn't take. I needed someone to listen. I could move again when I heard him come in. I moved downstairs. And the rest, as they say, is history.
I will never be able to get back what was taken from me in that final season. And that has hurt me more than a lot of people can understand. Anyone who was in it with me would have the greatest chance of understanding. I came that last day with my friends and fucking bawled my eyes out when you played cadences from my freshman year. Other than Mark, I was the only one who would have known them.
I see you guys all the time, walking down the street, in the Union. Some of you try not to look at me. I wish I could have honesty more than anything. It eliminates a lot of frustration and confusion. There was another person I thought would have been able to understand. We used to be friends. She surprised me. If I disappointed you, I need you to know the feeling was mutual.
Yeah, I still think about it. I have to think about it every time I pick up a pair of sticks or sit down at my set, every time my band friends talk about this or that, every time I pick up my keys, every time I listen to 311 EVER, every time I walk by the places we all used to go. I defined myself by this for a long time, and it IS a part of me, whether I want it to be or not. I do want it to be. But it would be easier to forget all about it. It would be easier if I could pretend that those 4.5 years of my life never happened, but I can't do that. I wouldn't want to. You gave me so much of myself. I learned my first little bits of self-confidence in those years. I learned so much about dealing with people and met some of the people who have helped to change my life, and I keep praying that one day they'll be back again. I want to say all of these things to you and more. I want to say that I gave you everything that I could have, and I know it wasn't what you wanted from me in this last year. But there was no more of me to give by the end, and I felt like everyone was chipping away at me. I can't apologize for just trying to get by. I can't apologize for trying to keep myself together and functioning. I can't apologize for being out of it because of not eating for 2 days and then coming to practice. I didn't want to be in those situations, and I didn't know how to get out of them, and it seemed like no one was going to help me. I did the right things for me. And that was never easy for me to do, and I'm glad I finally learned how to stand up for myself without throwing a punch. I walked away because it was the only control I could exercise, though it was most likely the only option I had left. I knew something bad was about to happen. I could feel a physical altercation coming with at least one or two people, and I wouldn't have been the first one to swing. I did the right thing. It's not selfish to want to protect yourself.
I didn't expect that to take so much out of me. But now I'm in the writing zone. Now things are coming pretty easily, and all I have to do is choose something. And boy do I have a lot to choose from.
Not knowing what I want to do with my life is terrifying me, and no matter how many times I say that I am becoming okay with this, I'm not getting there quickly enough. I'm worried that the last several years of my life have been wasted studying things that I will never have to use, which was probably going to be true anyway, but I would at least like to know that my degrees are going to be worth something to me. I'm terrified that I'll never be what I wanted to be. But I hope I don't think that just because that's what everyone expected me to be. I'll come out and fucking say it already, and I've never said this before in my life, and you'll probably never hear me say it again. I'm a genius. I see things and understand things that most people can't. And people have known this since the day I was fucking born, and there has been nothing but pressure on me to be the kind of person that changes the world ever since. People have been filling my head with this shit for my entire life. It's funny because half the world was telling me that I'd be a scumbag and never get out, while the other hald was telling me I'd make it big and never look back. I'm not sure that either is true. I didn't apply to med school because I didn't want to do something I wasn't sure was right for me. I didn't want to devote my life to a career and have no life of my own when I got home at the end of the day. I didn't want to fix people or make them think that they were broken. I wanted to be a very progressive kind of doctor more concerned with preventive medicine and comprehensive care, but that wasn't what people wanted of me, and they made me think that I shouldn't be a doctor because of it. I don't know if I want to be a doctor because I don't know if I could handle being in school for that much longer. I don't know if I could put the rest of my life on hold, not just for school, but for residency, and indefinitely. I don't know if I want my life to be all about that one thing. I'm trying to find a way to do the things I want to do and help the people I want to help. I know I will probably have to go back to school at some point, but I have no idea when or for what, and that's scaring me too. I don't have the answers. But I also don't want to spend the rest of my life in debt and never being able to enjoy anything. I'm even terrified about getting a job. I didn't do so well over the summer with that job. What if I just can't handle having one? Then what do I do? I'm scared of fucking up at whatever I do pick. I've applied to like 20 Pitt and UPMC jobs. And I'm terrified about almost all of them. I don't want to get locked into something I have no intention of pursuing, and I don't want to fuck up at whatever I decide to do. And I hate looking at the list of things that you are supposed to know how to do. What if I suck at whatever it is they think I should know how to do already? And I keep wondering if this recent snafu with Julie is going to prevent me from ever doing research again, if I decide that that's the path I need to take. There are so many things I am interested in. There are so many things that I could potentially make a career out of. How am I supposed to make this choice? I have considered becoming a personal trainer for a little while. My mom thinks I should try that too. I love to perform. I love to teach. I love to help and serve. I love to figure things out and solve problems. I love to create. I have passion for a lot of things. I love organizing things. I don't know why, but I love making lists and schedules and making complicated things easier for people to understand. I have no idea how to sift through all of this. It was easy when I thought I knew what I wanted to do--when I could just dismiss everything else because I already had a plan. But I don't have a plan now. I don't know what the hell is going on. As much as I want things to change in some ways, I'm fucking terrified of this because I will need to find a way to ground myself all over again.
I don't want to graduate with the wrong name on my diploma. But that sentence alone reminds me of something else entirely. I want to be able to be in a functional relationship with someone. It hurts to know that someone doesn't think you are emotionally stable enough. So then maybe you talk about it, and then things are better than they have ever been for about two days, and then shit hits the fan, and you are so paranoid about freaking out that when a situation does arise to cause you to freak out, you are doubly fucked, and then it becomes even worse because the other person isn't quite sure of how to handle you when you get like that. I've been so bummed out about relationship stuff over the last 7 or 8 months, and I just can't make those feelings go away. I'm trying hard not to shut myself off from connecting with people, but I know it's been happening. A part of me wants to stop trying altogether. A part of me believes that I am not the kind of person someone else can be with for an extended period of time. It makes me never want to try again...not that there are many people I've actually been interested in anyway. I need to feel something. And that doesn't happen very often. I will know almost immediately if things could work out. And I hate that. I hate that I can't just go with things and have fun. I could say so much more about this subject, but that's another one of those things I feel I can't really talk about with anyone because, again, everyone knows everyone else, and shit's going to get around somehow.
I think I really am at the what-comes-next point in my life. And I don't know the answer. And it's hurting me. And I am scared and want to cry. But I can't always do that.
I need to make it through these next few weeks. I just need to get out of school. And I am not so sure that I want to start a job immediately after I graduate, which is what everyone wants me to do, and I know it's what I should do because I'm poor as all hell. But I need time to breathe. I'm going to go crazy if I don't have a little time. I'm hoping for part time in the beginning. Maybe that will ease the transition to being a real person.
"Whatever" is a thought that keeps crossing my mind. I keep thinking that I might actually be depressed, but I'm not sure that that makes sense. I get miserable sometimes, but I'm generally alright. But maybe alright isn't good enough. I am scared that people will think that this has something to do with my transition, when I know that that is the only thing that is keeping my head above water sometimes. That's my stabilizing force right now--that and performing. I was able to dive into my thesis for the last few weeks, and that really helped too. I enjoyed learning new things and synthesizing those concepts into something that was on track to be published. But my train got fucking derailed. I just feel like one thing has happened after another to fuck with me, and my reaction might be what is normal. I am supposed to feel upset about things like that. But how do I stop thinking about them. How do I let go of all of this baggage? I'm not sure that I've ever been able to really let go of anything. That's another thing about me that worries me.
Sometimes I get the feeling that I'm terribly alone because there are things that I wish I could talk about or wish I could share with someone. I miss having that. It's not horrible, but there are those days when I realize that I am alone and probably will be for a while, and it makes me sad. I'm also breathing heavily right now.
I'm at the point where I am scared to be open with some people. And then I end up spilling my guts to people who may not want to hear it.
Random: Apparently, everyone is moving to Portland.
I have met so many people who have literally changed my life all in under a year. And the people I thought were going to be around forever about a year ago are no longer in my life at all. And this is something that I can't quite deal with either. And now I am learning that many of these people that are now so important to me will be leaving too. It's hard not to feel like a loser that's getting left behind.
I also feel weird because I love the people I am living with, and this place really does feel like a home. But I am at the point where I feel like I need a space that is 100 percent mine. I want to create my own home. I want to be able to have this fresh beginning and have a place where I am always in control. I haven't had that in quite a while, and that has probably been contributing to my general state of fucked-upedness. I've found a few good places. There is one that I am really hoping for, but I would need two roommates, and as I said, I don't know if that is an option. I'm scared about living with most people. Three bedroom place in East Liberty for less than 900. And it's a really nice townhouse. The other is the one that I really want. A one bedroom in East Liberty that's 10 minutes walking distance from my gym. And it has exposed brick and hardwood floors and it's just beautiful. 650 a month. I need a job so I can do this. But I feel funny because I'd like to be able to share my home with someone, even visitors, but I am scared that everyone is leaving me. It's completley irrational. And that irritates me too.
I think I could go on forever. I kind of want to because I have nothing better to do, which probably isn't helping me right now. I think there are things that I should be doing, but my brain can't focus on them because it has all of this other shit swarming around up there. I wish there a way to fix that without drugs.
I realized that my legs aren't getting better when I went for a run today. I really need to get this scan and find a new physical therapist. But I want to be able to afford it. Yet anothre reason why I need a job. See job gripes above to understand the vicious nature of this predicament.
I need a new memory card. I am very upset that I cannot find the other one because there are still pictures on it. It has to be with my stuff somewhere.
Not having a desk/bed/level floor also messes with me. But I am way more concerned about getting my name changed than having any of these things. But that whole process seems daunting, and I can't do this by myself. I was upset when they didn't come back with me to work on things last week because I knew that I could potentially freak out, and I wanted someone there to get me out before I could cause damage to myself or my situation. Ugh.
I feel like I am just bitching about things now. I'm stuck in this negative space again and need to find something positive to talk about.
Even with the pain, it felt good to move outside like that. But the pain is unbearable and is preventing me from just GOING.
I need a bike.
So many random thoughts in my head. So much to do. But somehow, thinking about that bike is making me happy.
But then again, I need money.
I know it's time to stop when the thoughts don't form paragraphs anymore.
I've made videos and written about this in a lot of other places, but maybe I should take some time to work this out right here. It's been just over a year since I began taking testosterone, and I could finish this sentence in any number of ways. Not all of the changes have been physical, and a physical change does not necessarily equate with a visible change. The emotions I experience have not changed, but how I handle the experience definitely has. I think I've improved in some ways, which may have nothing to do with the hormone at all, but I also believe that there were periods throughout the past 12 months during which the fluctuation in my hormone levels became an added burden. I'm thinking back to the difficult time I had dealing with my family and housing situations over the summer. I honestly could not figure out how to handle these things, and I felt like I was fighting with myself more and more. It felt like a physical battle, and I couldn't always come out victorious. And then I started failing to meet my obligations, which only made certain people harder to deal with, and that's where things began to get out of control. I have no problem talking about that situation anymore, and maybe that's one of the things I need to get off my chest.
There is a very large part of me that knows that he knows what he did was wrong. A huge part of me wants to believe that he really does feel these things--that my decision made sense in light of what was happening. I feel that he does indeed know that he played a pivotal role in helping to force me out, even disregarding the final incident. I'm struggling with this thought that I can't force out of my head. I keep seeing people here and there around campus--people with whom I used to be very close--and I receive nothing but positive vibes from most of them. I'm usually pretty good about picking up on these things, and I'm glad that I know this now. I now know that sometimes my negative emotions and feelings are not coming from inside of me, and being able to separate my own emotions from those of others has been immensely helpful. I want to start talking to them again. And I kept feeling terrible in trying to get this problem solved through the University because the only thing I felt like I was doing was getting revenge. I kept turning it over in my head, and it never made me feel good. Why would I ever want anyone else to feel what I felt? Why would I want to take from someone else what was taken from me? And how would that help me at all? I don't want him to lose it. I just want him to understand what he did and why it hurt me so much, and maybe I should have done this a long time ago. Maybe I should have had that conversation with him in person. It's funny because I know I was about to. I was going downstairs to have that exact conversation--to talk about how things had gotten so bad with the others that I felt like leaving. I wanted to talk about the fact that I knew why everyone was upset and had been upset, that I knew I wasn't always meeting the obligations that I said I would, that I knew something needed to be done. I prayed to be punished. I prayed to have someone tell me that I needed to make up for what I had failed to do. I prayed for someone to have an actual conversation with me instead of talking about me behind my back and mocking me for things that were completely unrelated. I prayed for someone to act like a fucking grown-up in that situation. Maybe I was getting so messed up and so easily frustrated because I was trying to get their attention--trying to reach out for them to help me when I knew I was not in a place to help myself. I know that I had become pretty vocal about things that bothered me. And I refused to keep quiet about the things that mattered to me anymore. And then conflicts arose. I'm quite an easy person to deal with in reality. I don't think I'm an unreasonable person. You just have to talk to me. But I know that's not easy. And because I know that isn't easy, I'm even more understanding. But I felt betrayed that night. I'm letting you all know. I felt like my heart had been ripped out by the one person I thought I could trust that night. The whole day had been a nightmare, and I had to walk from East Liberty to the house in the rain, and all I wanted to do was just sit by myself for a few minutes so that I could regain control. To be mocked for that--in the middle of it--was something I really couldn't take. I needed someone to listen. I could move again when I heard him come in. I moved downstairs. And the rest, as they say, is history.
I will never be able to get back what was taken from me in that final season. And that has hurt me more than a lot of people can understand. Anyone who was in it with me would have the greatest chance of understanding. I came that last day with my friends and fucking bawled my eyes out when you played cadences from my freshman year. Other than Mark, I was the only one who would have known them.
I see you guys all the time, walking down the street, in the Union. Some of you try not to look at me. I wish I could have honesty more than anything. It eliminates a lot of frustration and confusion. There was another person I thought would have been able to understand. We used to be friends. She surprised me. If I disappointed you, I need you to know the feeling was mutual.
Yeah, I still think about it. I have to think about it every time I pick up a pair of sticks or sit down at my set, every time my band friends talk about this or that, every time I pick up my keys, every time I listen to 311 EVER, every time I walk by the places we all used to go. I defined myself by this for a long time, and it IS a part of me, whether I want it to be or not. I do want it to be. But it would be easier to forget all about it. It would be easier if I could pretend that those 4.5 years of my life never happened, but I can't do that. I wouldn't want to. You gave me so much of myself. I learned my first little bits of self-confidence in those years. I learned so much about dealing with people and met some of the people who have helped to change my life, and I keep praying that one day they'll be back again. I want to say all of these things to you and more. I want to say that I gave you everything that I could have, and I know it wasn't what you wanted from me in this last year. But there was no more of me to give by the end, and I felt like everyone was chipping away at me. I can't apologize for just trying to get by. I can't apologize for trying to keep myself together and functioning. I can't apologize for being out of it because of not eating for 2 days and then coming to practice. I didn't want to be in those situations, and I didn't know how to get out of them, and it seemed like no one was going to help me. I did the right things for me. And that was never easy for me to do, and I'm glad I finally learned how to stand up for myself without throwing a punch. I walked away because it was the only control I could exercise, though it was most likely the only option I had left. I knew something bad was about to happen. I could feel a physical altercation coming with at least one or two people, and I wouldn't have been the first one to swing. I did the right thing. It's not selfish to want to protect yourself.
I didn't expect that to take so much out of me. But now I'm in the writing zone. Now things are coming pretty easily, and all I have to do is choose something. And boy do I have a lot to choose from.
Not knowing what I want to do with my life is terrifying me, and no matter how many times I say that I am becoming okay with this, I'm not getting there quickly enough. I'm worried that the last several years of my life have been wasted studying things that I will never have to use, which was probably going to be true anyway, but I would at least like to know that my degrees are going to be worth something to me. I'm terrified that I'll never be what I wanted to be. But I hope I don't think that just because that's what everyone expected me to be. I'll come out and fucking say it already, and I've never said this before in my life, and you'll probably never hear me say it again. I'm a genius. I see things and understand things that most people can't. And people have known this since the day I was fucking born, and there has been nothing but pressure on me to be the kind of person that changes the world ever since. People have been filling my head with this shit for my entire life. It's funny because half the world was telling me that I'd be a scumbag and never get out, while the other hald was telling me I'd make it big and never look back. I'm not sure that either is true. I didn't apply to med school because I didn't want to do something I wasn't sure was right for me. I didn't want to devote my life to a career and have no life of my own when I got home at the end of the day. I didn't want to fix people or make them think that they were broken. I wanted to be a very progressive kind of doctor more concerned with preventive medicine and comprehensive care, but that wasn't what people wanted of me, and they made me think that I shouldn't be a doctor because of it. I don't know if I want to be a doctor because I don't know if I could handle being in school for that much longer. I don't know if I could put the rest of my life on hold, not just for school, but for residency, and indefinitely. I don't know if I want my life to be all about that one thing. I'm trying to find a way to do the things I want to do and help the people I want to help. I know I will probably have to go back to school at some point, but I have no idea when or for what, and that's scaring me too. I don't have the answers. But I also don't want to spend the rest of my life in debt and never being able to enjoy anything. I'm even terrified about getting a job. I didn't do so well over the summer with that job. What if I just can't handle having one? Then what do I do? I'm scared of fucking up at whatever I do pick. I've applied to like 20 Pitt and UPMC jobs. And I'm terrified about almost all of them. I don't want to get locked into something I have no intention of pursuing, and I don't want to fuck up at whatever I decide to do. And I hate looking at the list of things that you are supposed to know how to do. What if I suck at whatever it is they think I should know how to do already? And I keep wondering if this recent snafu with Julie is going to prevent me from ever doing research again, if I decide that that's the path I need to take. There are so many things I am interested in. There are so many things that I could potentially make a career out of. How am I supposed to make this choice? I have considered becoming a personal trainer for a little while. My mom thinks I should try that too. I love to perform. I love to teach. I love to help and serve. I love to figure things out and solve problems. I love to create. I have passion for a lot of things. I love organizing things. I don't know why, but I love making lists and schedules and making complicated things easier for people to understand. I have no idea how to sift through all of this. It was easy when I thought I knew what I wanted to do--when I could just dismiss everything else because I already had a plan. But I don't have a plan now. I don't know what the hell is going on. As much as I want things to change in some ways, I'm fucking terrified of this because I will need to find a way to ground myself all over again.
I don't want to graduate with the wrong name on my diploma. But that sentence alone reminds me of something else entirely. I want to be able to be in a functional relationship with someone. It hurts to know that someone doesn't think you are emotionally stable enough. So then maybe you talk about it, and then things are better than they have ever been for about two days, and then shit hits the fan, and you are so paranoid about freaking out that when a situation does arise to cause you to freak out, you are doubly fucked, and then it becomes even worse because the other person isn't quite sure of how to handle you when you get like that. I've been so bummed out about relationship stuff over the last 7 or 8 months, and I just can't make those feelings go away. I'm trying hard not to shut myself off from connecting with people, but I know it's been happening. A part of me wants to stop trying altogether. A part of me believes that I am not the kind of person someone else can be with for an extended period of time. It makes me never want to try again...not that there are many people I've actually been interested in anyway. I need to feel something. And that doesn't happen very often. I will know almost immediately if things could work out. And I hate that. I hate that I can't just go with things and have fun. I could say so much more about this subject, but that's another one of those things I feel I can't really talk about with anyone because, again, everyone knows everyone else, and shit's going to get around somehow.
I think I really am at the what-comes-next point in my life. And I don't know the answer. And it's hurting me. And I am scared and want to cry. But I can't always do that.
I need to make it through these next few weeks. I just need to get out of school. And I am not so sure that I want to start a job immediately after I graduate, which is what everyone wants me to do, and I know it's what I should do because I'm poor as all hell. But I need time to breathe. I'm going to go crazy if I don't have a little time. I'm hoping for part time in the beginning. Maybe that will ease the transition to being a real person.
"Whatever" is a thought that keeps crossing my mind. I keep thinking that I might actually be depressed, but I'm not sure that that makes sense. I get miserable sometimes, but I'm generally alright. But maybe alright isn't good enough. I am scared that people will think that this has something to do with my transition, when I know that that is the only thing that is keeping my head above water sometimes. That's my stabilizing force right now--that and performing. I was able to dive into my thesis for the last few weeks, and that really helped too. I enjoyed learning new things and synthesizing those concepts into something that was on track to be published. But my train got fucking derailed. I just feel like one thing has happened after another to fuck with me, and my reaction might be what is normal. I am supposed to feel upset about things like that. But how do I stop thinking about them. How do I let go of all of this baggage? I'm not sure that I've ever been able to really let go of anything. That's another thing about me that worries me.
Sometimes I get the feeling that I'm terribly alone because there are things that I wish I could talk about or wish I could share with someone. I miss having that. It's not horrible, but there are those days when I realize that I am alone and probably will be for a while, and it makes me sad. I'm also breathing heavily right now.
I'm at the point where I am scared to be open with some people. And then I end up spilling my guts to people who may not want to hear it.
Random: Apparently, everyone is moving to Portland.
I have met so many people who have literally changed my life all in under a year. And the people I thought were going to be around forever about a year ago are no longer in my life at all. And this is something that I can't quite deal with either. And now I am learning that many of these people that are now so important to me will be leaving too. It's hard not to feel like a loser that's getting left behind.
I also feel weird because I love the people I am living with, and this place really does feel like a home. But I am at the point where I feel like I need a space that is 100 percent mine. I want to create my own home. I want to be able to have this fresh beginning and have a place where I am always in control. I haven't had that in quite a while, and that has probably been contributing to my general state of fucked-upedness. I've found a few good places. There is one that I am really hoping for, but I would need two roommates, and as I said, I don't know if that is an option. I'm scared about living with most people. Three bedroom place in East Liberty for less than 900. And it's a really nice townhouse. The other is the one that I really want. A one bedroom in East Liberty that's 10 minutes walking distance from my gym. And it has exposed brick and hardwood floors and it's just beautiful. 650 a month. I need a job so I can do this. But I feel funny because I'd like to be able to share my home with someone, even visitors, but I am scared that everyone is leaving me. It's completley irrational. And that irritates me too.
I think I could go on forever. I kind of want to because I have nothing better to do, which probably isn't helping me right now. I think there are things that I should be doing, but my brain can't focus on them because it has all of this other shit swarming around up there. I wish there a way to fix that without drugs.
I realized that my legs aren't getting better when I went for a run today. I really need to get this scan and find a new physical therapist. But I want to be able to afford it. Yet anothre reason why I need a job. See job gripes above to understand the vicious nature of this predicament.
I need a new memory card. I am very upset that I cannot find the other one because there are still pictures on it. It has to be with my stuff somewhere.
Not having a desk/bed/level floor also messes with me. But I am way more concerned about getting my name changed than having any of these things. But that whole process seems daunting, and I can't do this by myself. I was upset when they didn't come back with me to work on things last week because I knew that I could potentially freak out, and I wanted someone there to get me out before I could cause damage to myself or my situation. Ugh.
I feel like I am just bitching about things now. I'm stuck in this negative space again and need to find something positive to talk about.
Even with the pain, it felt good to move outside like that. But the pain is unbearable and is preventing me from just GOING.
I need a bike.
So many random thoughts in my head. So much to do. But somehow, thinking about that bike is making me happy.
But then again, I need money.
I know it's time to stop when the thoughts don't form paragraphs anymore.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Surprise
I'm pretty sure I only write in here when I'm severely messed up in the head. I wish that weren't the case. I think I've reached the point of not even being able to write about what's going on in there. I can't grab a hold of anything in my head or outside of it. I'm not grounded in any way. This isn't going to be good. I feel like this past week and a half of this is going to keep building until something really terrible happens, and that just makes me want to stay away from everyone.
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