Damn tonight. I was just thinking of how bored and snowed in I was, and WHAM! A sudden mild fuck up (of mine) hit me in the face. And just when I was feeling like less of a fraud. Hah! I just want to bury myself in some cave, not interact with anyone other than a few books and my cat... damn this business of living. Of EXPOSURE. I am so hard on myself. So insecure. My sense of worth is shaky (and breaky). I don't feel like I'm an interesting person other than in writing. Kind? Yes. Maybe that matters more. Supposedly that's what matters to God. Ugh. Human measurements. Sensitivity. I'm so damn sensitive. I can't cut out crying as quickly as most people can. There are rarely "quick cries" in my world. It's not as bad as it was when I was a child, but it is still embarrassing... yet not. On some level I don't care if I look like a mess. I hate pretending. This is my life... look at it, can you see! The sad, strange spectacle. The funky, polka-dotted backdropped splashed with blood and tears. That sounds so dramatic. I can understand why my dad wanted to die. Why he was ready to. Why he quit fighting and embraced it. Life is just too much sometimes even for ME, and I am in an able body.
I have so many fears. I hate it. What I strangely DON'T fear very much is death. Violence? Yes. I would like to avoid being murdered or otherwise maimed if at all possible (whoops, too late.) I fear exposure that results in failure and letting other people down. I'm such a mass of contradictions. I've been brave before (oh hi, restraining order incidents of years past!). I've stood up for myself and other people. I just don't know though. I catastrophize so much. I can't decide if I want to be IN or OUT of other people's heads. I really, really just want one thing - PEACE. What could be more peaceful than death, and what comes after? Writing brings me peace. My cat brings me peace. I'm so easily stirred. Maybe my problem really is that simple - I just don't have enough shock absorbers, or have had TOO MANY shocks.
I usually don't see the truth until I write it down. Ugh... death, life, the truth. All of it. I'm grateful for sleep. Sleep is "Death Jr." Hahhhh. Hah. I need to go to sleep earlier tonight. The worst part of life is that we are all sized up as if we were on a level playing field when NOTHING could be further from the truth. You either meet someone's expectations, or you get replaced. In work, in friendships, VIRTUALLY EVERYWHERE. I guess that's why family is important. They are the ones who come closest to understanding your playing field. They are a huge part of its landscape. I have 2 immediate family members in Texas. Ugh. So I guess this is why people are supposed to make their own families, to replace the ones that die off. Who the hell would (or could) I ever like enough to give half of my life to? Not to mention motherhood, which seems like its own special section of hell. I don't care about regenerating love - I want PEACE. Until peace gets boring.. ugh.
No answers for you, darlings. None. At least for tonight.
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