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The following is what I wrote for the text of my lj-cut. Apparently it was to long to all fit there... so... I thought I'd post it here as a sort of... well... introduction to the cut. Yes... I'm weird. {Just a big... long stream of consciousness. Going to say "Read at your own risk" because honestly... I'm not 100% sure what this is all about... I just write most of the time and whatever falls out, falls out. I think there's a word for that... but now I'm rambling in the title of an lj cut... so you know that can't be good at all O_o*}
So... just got off the phone. Feeling better. Not completely, but I will. I'm such a tard. There are so many things that I need to work on with me. I know what quite a few of them are, and I know what a huge one is. The fact that I had to drink a bottle of wine (apparently not a strong bottle of wine, as I drank the whole thing and I'm not really feeling all that much of anything...) in order to feel even remotely comfortable discussing things that were bothering me is the huge one, in my opinion, at this time. I don't know how to get past that, which is another big part of it... but I'll figure it out.
There's a lot that I'm not used to. Like... a whole lot. And communicating things right when they start to bother me is a big thing. I jokingly said something to Jaycie on the phone about a week ago... the thing is (and she promptly pointed this out to me), there was a little too much truth in it. What I said, oh and she laughed her ass off when I said it, was, "I'm always afraid that people will hate me if I confront them. So instead, I just resent them." What it boils down to in the end, is that I'd rather suffer than make someone I care about unhappy. Which... really... is stupid (see? I realize this already, but realizing something and fixing that same something isn't always as easy as it sounds...) because the more unhappy I become, the more unhappy the people I care about become. And... in doing all that... I've made them unhappy.
We're all (and I mean everyone in my family) really fucked up. My brother pointed this out as I was talking to him tonight (on the way back from getting my bottle of wine...). He has trust issues. Hardcore trust issues. Me? I have abandonment issues. I'm always afraid that I'm going to make someone mad and they're just... going to leave. So... rather than talk about something (which... whenever something bothers me, I always assume that if it's dealing with another person, they're going to take it personally, get mad, and then leave), I store it inside, trying to rationalize and work through it on my own (which... never works). It just always seems to be the way that things go for me. I can name a dozen or more people who this rings true with, and just a small handful that it doesn't. If I'm not constantly making an effort to keep things going, people forget about me. This happened with The Moon and The Sun... and... just about everyone else I knew in college... and high school... and... yeah. If I don't make the effort to keep in touch, they won't... and months (sometimes years), I find myself thinking, "I wonder whatever happened to this person...". So... yeah. That's a big thing... even though a person doesn't give me any reason to think that way... I panic and do... I think, 'Well... if I'm not around, I'll be forgotten.' So... yeah... there's more I can say on this, but I'm going to move on now...
There was this character... from a video game I played back in the day. Steve Burnside, I think his name was... I hated him... he was such a whiny little weasel. He said this thing that I used to make fun of all the time... something like, "If you rely on other people, they'll always let you down." And... so it's sort of funny that I've slipped (or maybe I've always been like this, but I used to distance myself from people so much that I never noticed it) into that same mindset. Mind you... that's not funny ha ha... it's like a sad funny. But yeah... this whole thing is really, really new to me. I used to keep people at a really safe distance. In fact... whenever anyone would ask me something personal about me, or my past, or anything that might give them an inkling as to who I really was... I'd dodge, and damn, was I good at it. G-da caught on one day. We were eating lunch in the cafeteria at college... (yeah, it wasn't so long ago...), and she looked at me, and she just had this look on her face... and she said, "I don't know who you are... I don't know anything about you... all I know is the time that we've spent together..." So... yeah. This is all really new to me. In fact... that's why I made this journal. It was originally going to just be a place where I posted my thoughts... I could never keep a paper journal, because it's too easy for secrets to get out that way. I used to keep one... and I wrote something really personal back in the day... and then my mom painted my room and put the border up and all that stuff... but she found it. I had a pen in there on the last entry I had written... which was the really personal one... the journal was moved... and I have no idea if she read it or not... regardless, I tore up the pages and threw the whole thing away and vowed to never keep a paper journal again. In fact... that's why I use codenames in my journal... just in case someone should stumble across it... I figured it would be harder for them to figure out it was me this way. The need for all the secrecy sort of diminished as time went on and I started being more open with myself and the people I know outside my journal... but it's still really hard for me. In fact... when I first made this journal, I planned on never having anyone friend it. I just wanted a place to post about me and I wanted a few communities with people who I thought could understand where I was coming from... and then David friended me not long after I started my journal. I can't tell you how many times I've reminded myself that he's been reading posts (probably not as regularly then as he does now) of mine since I started being more open with myself. It doesn't always help though. Hell... even people I've met online through this journal ended up getting mad because I wouldn't do this, or I didn't do that... and they left. Granted... at that point, it was a relief to me that the person wasn't around anymore... but still.
And so I panic... and I worry... because even though there are many people who say some amazing things about me... I don't think I'm anything special. I just don't ever see it... and so... that only makes things worse, because when you don't think of yourself as being anything special... then it makes it really easy to convince yourself that there's absolutely no reason for people to want to stick around. And... it doesn't matter that people tell you otherwise... it's like that line from the sunscreen song... "Remember the compliments your receive, forget the insults. If you figure out how to do this, tell me how." There was this one movie a LONG time ago... I can't remember anything about it... not the name, not the characters... I can't even remember the gender of the character who said this line... but the line has ALWAYS stuck with me... "It doesn't matter if someone says something good about you... because if you hear the bad enough, you start to believe it."
It's funny (again, not funny ha ha)... just the other day I said something very similar to my mother... we had just run into one of my other aunts in the store... and she told me that sometimes you just have to bite your tongue and suck it up (we were talking about jobs)... and I just... got so angry. After that, in the parking lot, I looked at my mom and said, "You know... I think that's one of the biggest problems with society... people have started to believe that as long as someone is giving you money, they can treat you however they want to. And they have us believing that's ok. People being treated horribly by their employers for money. Just for money... how did money become so important? More important than a person. More important than self respect, more important than anything...?" It still blows my mind right now, thinking about it. I don't get it... Why is that ok? And why do we put up with it? And the higher the pay rate, the more people accept it... like if you just pay enough, you can own a person... you can humiliate them, make them feel awful about themselves, make them go home and cry to their partners, make them dread going back... just as long as you pay them. 'Sorry I've cut your arm... here's some more money.' I use that example because it is extreme. That said... I've been through physical harm... and maybe it's just me... but what is it that I've been writing about for the last 45 minutes? It's certainly not physical... it's emotional harm. I don't think there are many people who will argue that emotional harm is significantly worse than physical (of course, there are exceptions). The emotional harm and abuse is what stays with us.
And somehow I've gotten off the topic... I guess that's just what happens.
The point is... I know that I have to fix things about myself... and I know that I'm still learning things that I ought to know by now. I am trying though.
And this post is for me. Not for anyone else... because, believe it or not... all of my posts are for me. Me uncensored. The original intent of my journal. And I worry (uh oh... here it goes again... I really do worry too much...) about that sometimes... because now, I know people who read my journal. I love one of them. And I know that some of my thoughts, as they come pouring out (and I've said that I very rarely read my own posts... probably a hundred times... they're just meant for me to purge my thoughts), could be hurtful... and I don't mean them to be... and I've often thought about using filters (I used to for The Oracle, because he created a journal. But... I was stupid there too, I set all those posts to friends only, then friended him without realizing that would give him access to everything I had written...), but the thing about filters... is it defeats my original intent... this is me, good or bad... a chance for people to see the real me. The me that isn't guarded, afraid to anger someone, afraid to lose someone, afraid that people will run away... and what's more... the people I worry about reading something that just came out all wrong... they're the people who've seen all the highs and lows... they're the people who I used to check my recent posts several times throughout the day in hopes that they had left some little snippet of wisdom, or a word of reassurance, or a message of hope. And I still look for all that, because even though it wasn't part of the original intent of my journal... it's sort of become something that I'm accustomed to. Something that sort of gives me hope and stuff... it's like... 'Damn... something is really bothering me... I'll put it in my journal, and maybe someone will have something to say about it.' But now I tend to be more careful about those things... because of the cross over... because now I know some of the people who read my journal (in fact... I know quite a few of them...), so I don't post as openly and freely as I used to... because I'm worried that I'll post something I shouldn't. Even then, things slip out, because when I post, I just lose myself and let my fingers do the talking. And now I'm rambling and sort of going around in circles, and reiterating where I don't need to, and so the thought process has stopped moving forward and is now just moving.
So... I'm going to pull it to a close. I'm going to head upstairs to see my brother, and then I'll come back down here, try to make a phone call, and go to bed. Without the assistance of benadryl. The first night in three that I don't feel like I'm going to need it to help me sleep.
Ok, that is all.
~End Stream of Consciousness
So... just got off the phone. Feeling better. Not completely, but I will. I'm such a tard. There are so many things that I need to work on with me. I know what quite a few of them are, and I know what a huge one is. The fact that I had to drink a bottle of wine (apparently not a strong bottle of wine, as I drank the whole thing and I'm not really feeling all that much of anything...) in order to feel even remotely comfortable discussing things that were bothering me is the huge one, in my opinion, at this time. I don't know how to get past that, which is another big part of it... but I'll figure it out.
There's a lot that I'm not used to. Like... a whole lot. And communicating things right when they start to bother me is a big thing. I jokingly said something to Jaycie on the phone about a week ago... the thing is (and she promptly pointed this out to me), there was a little too much truth in it. What I said, oh and she laughed her ass off when I said it, was, "I'm always afraid that people will hate me if I confront them. So instead, I just resent them." What it boils down to in the end, is that I'd rather suffer than make someone I care about unhappy. Which... really... is stupid (see? I realize this already, but realizing something and fixing that same something isn't always as easy as it sounds...) because the more unhappy I become, the more unhappy the people I care about become. And... in doing all that... I've made them unhappy.
We're all (and I mean everyone in my family) really fucked up. My brother pointed this out as I was talking to him tonight (on the way back from getting my bottle of wine...). He has trust issues. Hardcore trust issues. Me? I have abandonment issues. I'm always afraid that I'm going to make someone mad and they're just... going to leave. So... rather than talk about something (which... whenever something bothers me, I always assume that if it's dealing with another person, they're going to take it personally, get mad, and then leave), I store it inside, trying to rationalize and work through it on my own (which... never works). It just always seems to be the way that things go for me. I can name a dozen or more people who this rings true with, and just a small handful that it doesn't. If I'm not constantly making an effort to keep things going, people forget about me. This happened with The Moon and The Sun... and... just about everyone else I knew in college... and high school... and... yeah. If I don't make the effort to keep in touch, they won't... and months (sometimes years), I find myself thinking, "I wonder whatever happened to this person...". So... yeah. That's a big thing... even though a person doesn't give me any reason to think that way... I panic and do... I think, 'Well... if I'm not around, I'll be forgotten.' So... yeah... there's more I can say on this, but I'm going to move on now...
There was this character... from a video game I played back in the day. Steve Burnside, I think his name was... I hated him... he was such a whiny little weasel. He said this thing that I used to make fun of all the time... something like, "If you rely on other people, they'll always let you down." And... so it's sort of funny that I've slipped (or maybe I've always been like this, but I used to distance myself from people so much that I never noticed it) into that same mindset. Mind you... that's not funny ha ha... it's like a sad funny. But yeah... this whole thing is really, really new to me. I used to keep people at a really safe distance. In fact... whenever anyone would ask me something personal about me, or my past, or anything that might give them an inkling as to who I really was... I'd dodge, and damn, was I good at it. G-da caught on one day. We were eating lunch in the cafeteria at college... (yeah, it wasn't so long ago...), and she looked at me, and she just had this look on her face... and she said, "I don't know who you are... I don't know anything about you... all I know is the time that we've spent together..." So... yeah. This is all really new to me. In fact... that's why I made this journal. It was originally going to just be a place where I posted my thoughts... I could never keep a paper journal, because it's too easy for secrets to get out that way. I used to keep one... and I wrote something really personal back in the day... and then my mom painted my room and put the border up and all that stuff... but she found it. I had a pen in there on the last entry I had written... which was the really personal one... the journal was moved... and I have no idea if she read it or not... regardless, I tore up the pages and threw the whole thing away and vowed to never keep a paper journal again. In fact... that's why I use codenames in my journal... just in case someone should stumble across it... I figured it would be harder for them to figure out it was me this way. The need for all the secrecy sort of diminished as time went on and I started being more open with myself and the people I know outside my journal... but it's still really hard for me. In fact... when I first made this journal, I planned on never having anyone friend it. I just wanted a place to post about me and I wanted a few communities with people who I thought could understand where I was coming from... and then David friended me not long after I started my journal. I can't tell you how many times I've reminded myself that he's been reading posts (probably not as regularly then as he does now) of mine since I started being more open with myself. It doesn't always help though. Hell... even people I've met online through this journal ended up getting mad because I wouldn't do this, or I didn't do that... and they left. Granted... at that point, it was a relief to me that the person wasn't around anymore... but still.
And so I panic... and I worry... because even though there are many people who say some amazing things about me... I don't think I'm anything special. I just don't ever see it... and so... that only makes things worse, because when you don't think of yourself as being anything special... then it makes it really easy to convince yourself that there's absolutely no reason for people to want to stick around. And... it doesn't matter that people tell you otherwise... it's like that line from the sunscreen song... "Remember the compliments your receive, forget the insults. If you figure out how to do this, tell me how." There was this one movie a LONG time ago... I can't remember anything about it... not the name, not the characters... I can't even remember the gender of the character who said this line... but the line has ALWAYS stuck with me... "It doesn't matter if someone says something good about you... because if you hear the bad enough, you start to believe it."
It's funny (again, not funny ha ha)... just the other day I said something very similar to my mother... we had just run into one of my other aunts in the store... and she told me that sometimes you just have to bite your tongue and suck it up (we were talking about jobs)... and I just... got so angry. After that, in the parking lot, I looked at my mom and said, "You know... I think that's one of the biggest problems with society... people have started to believe that as long as someone is giving you money, they can treat you however they want to. And they have us believing that's ok. People being treated horribly by their employers for money. Just for money... how did money become so important? More important than a person. More important than self respect, more important than anything...?" It still blows my mind right now, thinking about it. I don't get it... Why is that ok? And why do we put up with it? And the higher the pay rate, the more people accept it... like if you just pay enough, you can own a person... you can humiliate them, make them feel awful about themselves, make them go home and cry to their partners, make them dread going back... just as long as you pay them. 'Sorry I've cut your arm... here's some more money.' I use that example because it is extreme. That said... I've been through physical harm... and maybe it's just me... but what is it that I've been writing about for the last 45 minutes? It's certainly not physical... it's emotional harm. I don't think there are many people who will argue that emotional harm is significantly worse than physical (of course, there are exceptions). The emotional harm and abuse is what stays with us.
And somehow I've gotten off the topic... I guess that's just what happens.
The point is... I know that I have to fix things about myself... and I know that I'm still learning things that I ought to know by now. I am trying though.
And this post is for me. Not for anyone else... because, believe it or not... all of my posts are for me. Me uncensored. The original intent of my journal. And I worry (uh oh... here it goes again... I really do worry too much...) about that sometimes... because now, I know people who read my journal. I love one of them. And I know that some of my thoughts, as they come pouring out (and I've said that I very rarely read my own posts... probably a hundred times... they're just meant for me to purge my thoughts), could be hurtful... and I don't mean them to be... and I've often thought about using filters (I used to for The Oracle, because he created a journal. But... I was stupid there too, I set all those posts to friends only, then friended him without realizing that would give him access to everything I had written...), but the thing about filters... is it defeats my original intent... this is me, good or bad... a chance for people to see the real me. The me that isn't guarded, afraid to anger someone, afraid to lose someone, afraid that people will run away... and what's more... the people I worry about reading something that just came out all wrong... they're the people who've seen all the highs and lows... they're the people who I used to check my recent posts several times throughout the day in hopes that they had left some little snippet of wisdom, or a word of reassurance, or a message of hope. And I still look for all that, because even though it wasn't part of the original intent of my journal... it's sort of become something that I'm accustomed to. Something that sort of gives me hope and stuff... it's like... 'Damn... something is really bothering me... I'll put it in my journal, and maybe someone will have something to say about it.' But now I tend to be more careful about those things... because of the cross over... because now I know some of the people who read my journal (in fact... I know quite a few of them...), so I don't post as openly and freely as I used to... because I'm worried that I'll post something I shouldn't. Even then, things slip out, because when I post, I just lose myself and let my fingers do the talking. And now I'm rambling and sort of going around in circles, and reiterating where I don't need to, and so the thought process has stopped moving forward and is now just moving.
So... I'm going to pull it to a close. I'm going to head upstairs to see my brother, and then I'll come back down here, try to make a phone call, and go to bed. Without the assistance of benadryl. The first night in three that I don't feel like I'm going to need it to help me sleep.
Ok, that is all.
~End Stream of Consciousness
Current Mood: 
clear
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