This one goes out to Kim & Ashlee:
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net
This one goes out to Kim & Ashlee:
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net
My birthday is again approaching, and I again, am feeling this overwhelming urge to get my life more in order. Something about aging a year always seems to make me reevaluate where I am in the great game. I am single, I have no children, I live alone, I drive the same car that I’ve been driving since High School, I finally just got myself into a job that I could potentially consider career worthy, and I have started to realize the immensity of owning a home. Not to mention all of the labor that comes with it. And cuts. And scrapes. And bruises.
When I was getting ready to turn 25, I was fresh out of a longterm relationship and I was really looking singledom in the eye for the first time since I was about 17. Instead of reveling in my new found freedom, I started to look at all of my friends and their lives as a kind of road map to where I thought I needed to be at this stage in my life; and in turn, I started to freak out over what a failure to progression I had become. I realized most of my friends were either married, or had children or were in relationships in which some sort of future seemed imminent and I somehow gave myself the notion that all people in their mid 20’s should be trying to find someone to settle down with and that fact that I was without somehow meant that I was less of a person than everyone else and meant that I was going to end up dying alone. I became obsessed with my singularity, I started to focus so intently on how I was without a relationship that I refused to deem it anything but being ALONE. I wasn’t single, I was ALONE. I wasn’t taking a break from dating, I was ALONE. I wasn’t free, I was ALONE. I wasn’t recovering from a ridiculously tiring and difficult relationship, I was ALONE. I wasn’t trying to spend time working on myself and all of my Mental, I. Was. ALONE. And very unhappy with that fact.
In all honesty, it’s taken me most of the last 2 years to realize that it’s really ok to be right where I am. Most of my friends who are married, or with children, wish that they were in my shoes. One friend’s marriage is in shambles, another friend’s relationship is in jeopardy, another friend has 2 kids to think about and so she stays where she shouldn’t….the list goes on. It started to creep into my mind that I’ve really got nothing to be jealous of. My path has not brought me to the point of children, and marriage, and husbands, and “ever after,” yet. Who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind about all of that anyway, and instead, devote myself to building up my rapport of being the “Crazy Cat Lady” of the neighborhood. It doesn’t mean that I don’t still have this unnerving feeling that I am missing out on something, I am just beginning to realize that I don’t want to just accept things turning out a specific way. I would rather CREATE my life, instead of circumstantially falling into one.
I still worry over my mistakes and the choices that I have made which have gotten me to where I am. But it is through the assistance of therapy, and possibly due to the fact that I might actually be becoming remotely rational, that I’ve started to realize that “settling” for someone just so that I can have that feeling of companionship is not something I am willing to do. I am too independent of a person, I have too many opinions and dreams and wants to do so; and I have no intentions of becoming that codependent rag that I once was. So, it is with 5 days to go until I age yet another year closer to 30, I have instead, decided to do all that I can to keep my mental at bay long enough to just enjoy what I have and who I am becoming, and to stop wishing for things I don’t have and will never be. For today, I am going to trust enough in fate for it to guide me in the right direction, and I hope that one day, I will find all that I am looking for. Whatever that is.
I really don’t know how I feel about this one. I mean, there is something hugely drawing about having the ability to write my name in pee in the snow, and I definitely know the pain of having to go, but not being able to risk contracting herpes or cancer or a cold or something off of the disgusting toilet seats in public restrooms. But as I watch this video, there is some wee little voice in the back of my head that begins whispering to me that I should stop shaving my legs and armpits and devote my life to recreating Woodstock or something…
I wasn’t even going to write a post tonight. I was going to take my melodramatic self to bed after a shower as I had little interest in putting forth enough thought to write a post. I wanted to turn my head off, fall asleep to South Park and wake up tomorrow hopefully having slept through my neuroses. Alas, such was not to be.
Since I spent 3 hours of my evening helping to clean my best friends new house, I didn’t have the opportunity to partake in my usual computer dorkiness this evening. I came home from work, spent all of an hour with my dogs, then corralled them back up in the kitchen and headed out to her house for a Dyson Vacuums vacuuming euphoria. And let me just tell you that I am damn lucky that I like vacuuming, cause they got carpet in EVERY. ROOM. Literally, 2 hours and 40 minutes of that time was spent with the vacuum running. It was like, the NY Marathon of vacuuming. And I loved every moment of it. The carpet marks that this thing makes are just UNBELIEVABLE. Almost spiritual, even. You’ve really just got to try one to understand.
Anyway, as I was on my way home from that rousing 3 hours of cleaning, I had a conversation with a friend of mine about some things that I was struggling with that he was not aware of. Then, once I got home, and since I am such a creature of habit that I would barely be able to sleep tonight did I not check all of my daily websites – email, blog, various online communities, reader feeds, and….MY HOROSCOPE – I fired up the laptop and started working my through the multitudes of urls I visit on a daily basis.
Sometimes, I really wish that I wasn’t so damn cheap and that I’d just pay for a daily text message of my horoscope to be sent to my cell phone. It would REALLY save me a lot of grief if I knew what it had to say to me BEFORE I actually lived it. I very well might handle situations differently had I the knowledge that some random astrologer had the foresight to tell me what was going to happen, and how to handle it. So, my dear Sampson, I can only imagine how absolutely out of touch with reality you must thing me to be, but you were right – I just need to relax. And I need to be honest, and I need to just BE. So noted. So noted…
It feels like you’re living in a fishbowl, and that private emotions are on display for everyone to see. But that’s all in your head. If anything, loved ones need a clearer understanding of what’s going on with you.
It’s a wonderful thing when you feel like your world is changing and then have some sort of justification of it proving to yourself that you AREN’T losing your mind, and in fact, might actually be experiencing your world, as it changes. My justification comes in the ways of horoscopes. Many consider them useless little blurbs of mumbo-jumbo that someone who claims to have studied astrology throws together to give their lives meaning because they aren’t intelligent enough to make it through astro-physics school. But not me. I put more faith in my horoscope then I do in the presidential elections. I hold my horoscope in a higher regard than I do the Pope. I see my horoscope as a greater good in my life then it would be to win the lotto. Basically, I live and breath it.
Some of my obsession may have to do with the fact that I obsess over things, anyway. I get so fixated on things that even wild horses couldn’t drag me away. Granted, my obsessive behaviors ARE getting better – I actually pumped gas the other week and it cost me something other than A WHOLE DOLLAR AMOUNT. Honestly, that was the first time in as long as I can remember where I wasn’t compulsively driven to overflow my gas tank, just to guarantee that whole dollar amount on the receipt. I can’t admit to having done it SINCE, but hey, even once is a step! And unfortunately for me, in addition to my obsessiveness, I am also a control FREAK. I would rather drink rancid milk as my only source of fluid for a week STRAIGHT then just LET GO of something. I can’t explain my issue with having to know what the future holds, nor can I explain away the unnatural NEED that I have to “guide” people and happenings along the path that I wish them to follow. Guess that’s as good of reason as any (as if I needed any to BEGIN WITH) which guarantees that I’m gonna go back to therapy tomorrow.
So, a basic understanding of my freakish control issues in addition to my obsessiveness was imperative in order for you to fully comprehend the reality of my rationale and the importance of… My horoscope:
You need to finish up your old business as the Sun moves through interactive Gemini this month. Projects that you began over the winter should now be nearing completion. Forget about the regular calendar; your year is coming to a close, so you must do everything you can to prepare to begin anew as summer rolls around.
Somehow, all seems right with the world today.
I have officially managed to procrastinate on my Therapy Homework for almost the entire 2 weeks that I had between appointments. The jury is still out on whether that is an acceptable thing…or NOT. Fortunately, I’m not the one making THAT decision, since I suck at making decisions ANYWAY. And if there is one less thing that I HAVE to worry about in life, I am thankful for whatever break I may get.
Unfortunately, therapy doesn’t really GIVE me a break. I’m always thinking about my past now, and I’m always trying to psycho-analyze why I think the things I think. It’s rather similar to to having a discussion on why gay people and black people are still, in fact, PEOPLE with my father. I might as well save my breath, I’ll need it when I’m 80. So the latest thing that I have to ponder over is why I had a rather detailed dream about one of my high school boyfriends last night. I haven’t really thought about JM for, oh, I dunno, 6 or 8 years, but for some reason last night, I had a present day dream about him. Since I’m a retard and didn’t write it down immediately, as was suggested to me, and I kick myself for this as I so rarely remember my dreams anyway, I can only recall certain key aspects of it at this point. For example, we were together, and I think in that sense. As in, together together and we were here, at my home, and we were just hanging out, talking. Talking about general randomness like how our respective days were and how so and so was creating drama at work and how the dogs had managed to reek havoc on the kitchen in our absence and how I needed to get some laundry done. To be honest, I don’t really remember what it was that he was doing for a living, but I do distinctly recall that I was in the same job that I currently am. Why I dreamt of JM all night, and why, 8 years later he would even CROSS MY MIND is beyond me, and so you can bet your ass that I’ll walk into therapy next session insisting upon answers. And my wonderful therapist will probably look at me and go “Well, is there some sort of unfinished business with him?” And I will of COURSE say “Hmmm. I don’t THINK so.” And then we will dive into these horrible EMDR therapy sessions (and by “horrible” I mean absolutely fantastic) and I will eventually come up with some tangent which will lead me to WHY I dreamt of JM last night and then I will be able to move past it, without so much as another thought. Yeah, I never claimed that ANY of it would make sense. Welcome to my life.
And then she’ll ask me about my homework – and I’ll have to admit that I showed up 20 minutes early to produce THIS! and I’ll hand her a post it note that I found at the bottom of my purse while I was in the waiting room, covered with furious scribbles of words and incoherent sentences. Afterall, why would my physical life be any different than my emotional one? It’s all just gibberish under guise of intelligent thought. She’ll then go to work translating what rounded and not religious FAITH and universal and PEACE have to do with my topic and why it is that I struggle so damn hard to fulfill those medial aspects in my life. And she’ll explain to me why I need to have a better sense of self worth, and how I am an “interesting” case for her because I walk in there with a smile and joke about all the hardest things in my life. She’ll realize that I laugh because the other choice is just unacceptable. No one ever got anything accomplished by crying about it. Then she’ll ask me why I think that, and I’ll say “Hmmm. I don’t know.”
Maybe every relationship that I have ever been in has been a failure, maybe every man that I’ve ever been attracted to has had nothing to offer me (sans one in particular) and maybe, just MAYBE I seek relationships like that out so as to avoid all my own shit. I like to think that I am changing that behavior, I like to think that THIS TIME, I really do FEEL what I feel. I like to think that I know what love is. Hmmm…It’s a known fact that everyone is a work in progress. It’s seriously slow going, and I haven’t gotten very far, but I know that every realization is a step. And every step, brings me closer to the person that I know is in there somewhere – and is HAPPY. So, dear therapist. may I present MY HOMEWORK!
I realize that GOOD relationships should include, but are not limited to the following: sharing, equality and having that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you are looking forward to seeing someone in particular where you teeter totter between nausea and excitement. They should make you feel like MORE of a person, instead of less. There should be commitment and no resentment. Never wavering trust in the other, never ending understanding and never compromising compromises. Respect and regard should be common place while insults and frustration should be strangers. Each would need time to themselves, whether it to be out with the girls for dinner and some wine, or out with the guys for some kind of manly body-odor-inducing activity, and should not be afraid to ask for it. And yet each should find time for the other. Dinner, a movie, a massage…simple things often times mean the most. I would expect peace and assistance. Yes I made dinner, but would you be so kind as to HELP clean up? There should be brutal honesty for all the right reasons and discussion about all the wrong ones. It’s never safe to assume that you know outright what the other is thinking. I guess, in the end, a good relationship is everything that none of mine have ever been…and everything that I want them to become.
Maybe that was why I was dreaming of JM last night? I mean, there was never any drama with him. He always wanted to do whatever I wanted to do, unless he didn’t. And that was ok when that happened. He held my hand in the hallway, he liked to spend time with me after school and on the weekends unless he was out with his friends. He was the least effed in the head, to the best of my recollection, and maybe those high school gifts of stuffed animals and notes in my locker, and him driving all the way out to where my parents lived just to spend a couple hours together and letting me borrow ANY cd I wanted, even though I sucked at giving them back, was because he really liked ME? Not how I loaned him money, or let him crash on my couch. Or how I was his emotional pillar or because he knew that I’d bail him out of jail every time… Maybe that juvenile relationship was the closest to “normal” that I ever experienced and THAT’S why I’m dreaming about him NOW?! Maybe it was meant to be, in some kind of weird, sub conscious EMDR induced partial dementia, an epiphany that I AM a good person, and that there will ALWAYS be someone who accepts me for me, so I might as well get on with it and ACCEPT MYSELF?! Hmmm, I don’t know.
Of all the places in this entire HOUSE to lay, my pups both feel the need to be as close to me as possible. Some days, I feel like they’d crawl inside of my nasal cavity or ear canal, if I let them, just to be thismuchcloser. That gray thing that they are both laying on so comfortably? Yeah, that’s my leg.
Taken with my camera phone, needless to say, quality is not what this one is about…