"Don't tell me what's in
Tell me how to write
Don't tell me how to win this fight
Isn't your life
It isn't your right to take the only thing that's mine."
I never thought I could hate someone... I mean, really hate. But I'm beginning to hate you. It's scary because we were once best friends... and now I really mostly can't stand you. Maybe because you cheated on one of my other friends... but if I'm honest with myself, the real reason is because, strictly speaking, you have always been better than me.
If I'm even more honest with myself, however, I can see that I don't truly believe that. I feel I am better than you. It's just that you're so high and mighty. Everyone has always told you that you are the best, and you believe it. You've been told you are the best musician, the best writer, the smartest person; you've always had high grades in every exam- be it music, english, science, anything. You obviously must be prettier than others, or you wouldn't have had most of the boys in our year after you. Every single person who meets you loves you, so you must be a better person than anyone else. You had everyone trailing after you in high school. Every experience of your young life so far has perpetuated the implication that you are the most wonderful human being in the world.
I just wish everyone could see how fake and terrible you are. You whine about your life as if it isn't good enough for you. You cheat on people, you're blunt and insensitive, you lord it over everyone, you flaunt your success to make other people feel bad. Like I said, I never thought I could hate anyone... but you've managed to tip me over the edge.
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Obsession
"And in the dark
I can hear your heartbeat
I try to find the sun
But then, it starts
I'm always in the darkness
Of darkness I'd be King..."
Ohhh no. Please tell me this isn't happening. Not again. I thought I was past this stage?
It all started with a man called Jason Kay, from the band Jamiroquai. I was so scarily obsessed with him I even used to say goodnight to a little picture of him in my wallet (Deanna can attest to that. I'm sure she'd love to). The next big one was a little something called Phantom of the Opera. Now that one wasn't too bad because it was a whole thing, not just one person that I was fixated on. But that screwed me up enough because it was so dark and depressing. After that there were a few minor flutters into the land of the insane before I hit on Doctor Who, namely a certain actor called David Tennant. Now I was a bit older, so this wasn't as scary as the Jay Kay one but still... huge giant folders of images in My Documents, box sets of dvds... and after the final of the second season when the Doctor and his female opposite character Rose were parted forever, it took me three days to get over the sadness completely. I cried myself to sleep that night, it was such a sad episode. Even after the obsession itself was over and I finally saw David Tennant as a man and an actor, and not the character of the Doctor who I'd fallen in love with; when David Tennant was replaced as the Docter by this other baby-faced young guy, I scoffed and insulted him for being unoriginal and generally just not as good.
But now... I just watched this episode with the new guy, Matt Smith, and there was this one scene... and the same old feeling started coming back to me.
It always starts with something touching, with a character showing some vulnerability or tenderness. This fluttering feeling starts in my chest, just like the beginnings of a crush on some real normal person. At the time I just go "awww, that was so sweet..." and I might rewind it if I can to watch the scene again (which I did). But later on I'll find that I can't stop thinking about it, and then I'll find that I feel sort of... wistful and lonely, and still caught up in the story. Wishing that it was real and that I was in it. And that is how my obsessions start.
I blame my imagination. I am so good at putting myself in the shoes of the female opposite character that it affects me somehow. Admittedly this is a skill on the part of the scriptwriters and actors and directors too, but I have always been good at imagining, ever since I was a little girl. And it mucks with my brain. And I thought I'd grown out of it. It hasn't come back to attack me since I met Jared. And yet! HERE IT IS AGAIN. And I don't want it.
I can hear your heartbeat
I try to find the sun
But then, it starts
I'm always in the darkness
Of darkness I'd be King..."
Ohhh no. Please tell me this isn't happening. Not again. I thought I was past this stage?
It all started with a man called Jason Kay, from the band Jamiroquai. I was so scarily obsessed with him I even used to say goodnight to a little picture of him in my wallet (Deanna can attest to that. I'm sure she'd love to). The next big one was a little something called Phantom of the Opera. Now that one wasn't too bad because it was a whole thing, not just one person that I was fixated on. But that screwed me up enough because it was so dark and depressing. After that there were a few minor flutters into the land of the insane before I hit on Doctor Who, namely a certain actor called David Tennant. Now I was a bit older, so this wasn't as scary as the Jay Kay one but still... huge giant folders of images in My Documents, box sets of dvds... and after the final of the second season when the Doctor and his female opposite character Rose were parted forever, it took me three days to get over the sadness completely. I cried myself to sleep that night, it was such a sad episode. Even after the obsession itself was over and I finally saw David Tennant as a man and an actor, and not the character of the Doctor who I'd fallen in love with; when David Tennant was replaced as the Docter by this other baby-faced young guy, I scoffed and insulted him for being unoriginal and generally just not as good.
But now... I just watched this episode with the new guy, Matt Smith, and there was this one scene... and the same old feeling started coming back to me.
It always starts with something touching, with a character showing some vulnerability or tenderness. This fluttering feeling starts in my chest, just like the beginnings of a crush on some real normal person. At the time I just go "awww, that was so sweet..." and I might rewind it if I can to watch the scene again (which I did). But later on I'll find that I can't stop thinking about it, and then I'll find that I feel sort of... wistful and lonely, and still caught up in the story. Wishing that it was real and that I was in it. And that is how my obsessions start.
I blame my imagination. I am so good at putting myself in the shoes of the female opposite character that it affects me somehow. Admittedly this is a skill on the part of the scriptwriters and actors and directors too, but I have always been good at imagining, ever since I was a little girl. And it mucks with my brain. And I thought I'd grown out of it. It hasn't come back to attack me since I met Jared. And yet! HERE IT IS AGAIN. And I don't want it.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Shellfish
"You only think about yourself
You only think about yourself
You better bend before I go
On the first train to Mexico..."
So it’s been exam time. And at this time more than any of the University cycle, it seems people are very much “for” themselves. I’m sitting in Info Commons right now, and behind me are two computer niches which were being “reserved” with bags. Not only is this not actually allowed, it’s blatantly inconsiderate... and it’s not allowed BECAUSE it’s blatantly inconsiderate.
I sat down at my computer about 20 minutes ago, and in that whole time nobody came to claim the bags left on the desks. An Indian girl just came up to me looking harassed and worried, and asked me if anyone was sitting there. I told her I hadn’t seen anyone around there for quite a while, and we had a little rant-party about people who leave their belongings at a computer desk and go get food (among other things) when it’s exam time and so many people are waiting for a computer. Now I’m her witness for if the person comes back and gets pissed off.
I mean, I’m not that much better- look at me, it’s exam time and I’m sitting here writing on a blog when there’s probably someone desperate for a computer to research some obscure essay topic... but at least I do what I want to do as fast as I can, and I don’t leave my stuff and walk away any further than to a printer. Some people actually do “reserve” a computer and then go buy food, have lunch and come back expecting that they can just sit down and go on their facebook. The number of worried faces I can see pacing back and forth in this room! What can those people be thinking? Don’t they feel bad about it? At the very least they should be worried about someone making off with their stuff. If you wait long enough, especially with the apathetic society that we have going on at Auckland Uni, nobody is going to be bothered or be sure enough of themselves to stop a stranger making off with your stuff. They’re just going to think that stranger is you.
And I don’t mean to be judgemental or racist, but a lot of the time the bags left are those fancy Gucci/Guess or some imitation of the above type... and the books left are written in some Asian language... and you just KNOW they’re going to belong to some stick-thin fashion-obsessed chick... likely to be Chinese/Japanese/Korean. And I have actually seen this in person, I’m not just assuming. Is it a cultural thing? Is it because of the attitude of the countries that these people have come from? I have so so many Chinese or Korean friends and they are the nicest people ever, but most of them have been in N.Z. quite a while... most of their lives, usually. Are Kiwis just more self-sacrificing than other nationalities? Or are Asians just more self-centered?
Oh dear, this is sounding racist. But I’m not meaning to judge... I’m just making observations.
It has now been over half an hour since I first sat down here, and still the owners of the bags have not returned. Who do they think they are?!
You only think about yourself
You better bend before I go
On the first train to Mexico..."
So it’s been exam time. And at this time more than any of the University cycle, it seems people are very much “for” themselves. I’m sitting in Info Commons right now, and behind me are two computer niches which were being “reserved” with bags. Not only is this not actually allowed, it’s blatantly inconsiderate... and it’s not allowed BECAUSE it’s blatantly inconsiderate.
I sat down at my computer about 20 minutes ago, and in that whole time nobody came to claim the bags left on the desks. An Indian girl just came up to me looking harassed and worried, and asked me if anyone was sitting there. I told her I hadn’t seen anyone around there for quite a while, and we had a little rant-party about people who leave their belongings at a computer desk and go get food (among other things) when it’s exam time and so many people are waiting for a computer. Now I’m her witness for if the person comes back and gets pissed off.
I mean, I’m not that much better- look at me, it’s exam time and I’m sitting here writing on a blog when there’s probably someone desperate for a computer to research some obscure essay topic... but at least I do what I want to do as fast as I can, and I don’t leave my stuff and walk away any further than to a printer. Some people actually do “reserve” a computer and then go buy food, have lunch and come back expecting that they can just sit down and go on their facebook. The number of worried faces I can see pacing back and forth in this room! What can those people be thinking? Don’t they feel bad about it? At the very least they should be worried about someone making off with their stuff. If you wait long enough, especially with the apathetic society that we have going on at Auckland Uni, nobody is going to be bothered or be sure enough of themselves to stop a stranger making off with your stuff. They’re just going to think that stranger is you.
And I don’t mean to be judgemental or racist, but a lot of the time the bags left are those fancy Gucci/Guess or some imitation of the above type... and the books left are written in some Asian language... and you just KNOW they’re going to belong to some stick-thin fashion-obsessed chick... likely to be Chinese/Japanese/Korean. And I have actually seen this in person, I’m not just assuming. Is it a cultural thing? Is it because of the attitude of the countries that these people have come from? I have so so many Chinese or Korean friends and they are the nicest people ever, but most of them have been in N.Z. quite a while... most of their lives, usually. Are Kiwis just more self-sacrificing than other nationalities? Or are Asians just more self-centered?
Oh dear, this is sounding racist. But I’m not meaning to judge... I’m just making observations.
It has now been over half an hour since I first sat down here, and still the owners of the bags have not returned. Who do they think they are?!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Wtfpwned
Me: "So, does my shit day beat your shit day?"
Danielle: "Hells yeah! Your shit day just wtfpwned mine. Mine didn't even see it coming. POW!"
Schedule for Wednesday, May 05, 2010.
6.00 am: Get up and get ready for Uni
7.00 am: Get Jared out of bed (nicely) and have him drive me to the train station
7.25 am: Get on train
8.10 am: Get off train, walk to Uni
8.45 am: Arrive at Uni
9.00 am: LINGUISTICS LECTURE. Do a beats swap with Danielle
10.00 am: ANCIENT HISTORY LECTURE. Sit by self as Amy is at home hurriedly finishing her essay. Hand own essay in to tutor
11.00 am: Curly fries with Danielle
12.00 pm: ACCOUNTING LECTURE.
1.00 pm: Decide not to go to English lecture. Sit in on Danielle's MUSIC LECTURE instead. Spend 2 hours studying for Accounting test
3.00 pm: Come out of lecture. Go to info commons
3.30 pm:
4.30 pm:
5.30 pm:
6.30 pm: Accounting test
7.30 pm: Go home.
FOOD CONSUMED AT AUCKLAND UNIVERSITY TODAY: 1 cup of tea, 2 rice wafers, 1 large bowl of fries, 3 gingernut biscuits, 1 apple, 1 bottle of water, 1 small tub of butter chicken, 1 vanilla coke.
TIME SPENT AT AUCKLAND UNIVERSITY TODAY: 10 hours 45 minutes. Wtfpwned.
Danielle: "Hells yeah! Your shit day just wtfpwned mine. Mine didn't even see it coming. POW!"
Schedule for Wednesday, May 05, 2010.
6.00 am: Get up and get ready for Uni
7.00 am: Get Jared out of bed (nicely) and have him drive me to the train station
7.25 am: Get on train
8.10 am: Get off train, walk to Uni
8.45 am: Arrive at Uni
9.00 am: LINGUISTICS LECTURE. Do a beats swap with Danielle
10.00 am: ANCIENT HISTORY LECTURE. Sit by self as Amy is at home hurriedly finishing her essay. Hand own essay in to tutor
11.00 am: Curly fries with Danielle
12.00 pm: ACCOUNTING LECTURE.
1.00 pm: Decide not to go to English lecture. Sit in on Danielle's MUSIC LECTURE instead. Spend 2 hours studying for Accounting test
3.00 pm: Come out of lecture. Go to info commons
3.30 pm:
4.30 pm:
5.30 pm:
6.30 pm: Accounting test
7.30 pm: Go home.
FOOD CONSUMED AT AUCKLAND UNIVERSITY TODAY: 1 cup of tea, 2 rice wafers, 1 large bowl of fries, 3 gingernut biscuits, 1 apple, 1 bottle of water, 1 small tub of butter chicken, 1 vanilla coke.
TIME SPENT AT AUCKLAND UNIVERSITY TODAY: 10 hours 45 minutes. Wtfpwned.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Answer
"Think of me when you're out, when you're out there
I'll beg you nice, from my knees
And when the world treats you way too fairly
Well it's a shame I'm a dream
All I wanted was you..."
Today I lay on my bed and stared out the window as a cloud turned into a dragon, then to a dog, then to a mouse, and then disintegrated like candyfloss.
As I watched I was thinking:
"Why doesn't anybody think before they speak?"
"Am I not allowed to have a moment of weakness? A moment of insecurity?"
"Don't I deserve to have that insecurity vanquished?"
"Do I always have to be the strong one?"
"What do you do when your body and mind are fully rested, but your soul is exhausted?"
"Does anyone really know how I feel?"
"If not, then where do I go to get the answer?"
"In trying to stop beating myself up all the time, have I gone the opposite way? Do I now think I'm better- kinder, prettier, more fun, more patient, more thoughtful, more selfless- than I really am?"
"Why do I get so insecure?"
"What is wrong with me?!"
I'll beg you nice, from my knees
And when the world treats you way too fairly
Well it's a shame I'm a dream
All I wanted was you..."
Today I lay on my bed and stared out the window as a cloud turned into a dragon, then to a dog, then to a mouse, and then disintegrated like candyfloss.
As I watched I was thinking:
"Why doesn't anybody think before they speak?"
"Am I not allowed to have a moment of weakness? A moment of insecurity?"
"Don't I deserve to have that insecurity vanquished?"
"Do I always have to be the strong one?"
"What do you do when your body and mind are fully rested, but your soul is exhausted?"
"Does anyone really know how I feel?"
"If not, then where do I go to get the answer?"
"In trying to stop beating myself up all the time, have I gone the opposite way? Do I now think I'm better- kinder, prettier, more fun, more patient, more thoughtful, more selfless- than I really am?"
"Why do I get so insecure?"
"What is wrong with me?!"
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Chapter Six: Out
"So fill your head with what you think you understand.
My ears grow tired of listening to this constant recital
Lend yourself only when it suits
For this worthy cause, for this worthy cause
Feed the elevation that you so desperately, so desperately...
And in this voice of confidence
Too proud to admit flawed opinions
Bound to his verbal crusade
Preaching his infected position.
These tones will always deceive the unfamiliar
Still glorifying your misperception.
SO IN LOVE WITH THE SOUND OF YOUR OWN VOICE
And why? You would talk for eternity
The watcher runs
With the circles of his debate
And in the end, what's been achieved?"
It's definitely time to move out.
When you admit a huge weakness in your character; when you ask a small favour of your mother in order to help you overcome this weakness, and you are denied on the grounds that this person who is meant to love you and care for you is too lazy and busy to do this small thing for you... it's definitely time to move out.
When you come home late, exhausted from a stressful weekend worrying about and crying over your soulmate who has had to spend a night in hospital, and from nursing him back to health; when your father attacks you so personally that you break down in tears and sob so hard you cannot draw breath, and even then he has no pity for you; when your mother calls you selfish, thoughtless and immature, and then expects you to come over to the couch and make her feel like she hasn't done anything wrong... it's definitely time to move out.
When neither parent seems to understand how the weight of keeping peace in the family, the weight of all their countless fights, the weight of the negative emotion that they spread in any house that they live in; how that weight descends upon you and bears you down, crushes you to the floor while you try and lift it away from yourself... it's time. It's time. It is time.
From now, the money I earn from teaching is going towards that one goal. I will endure until I have enough. Then I will leave.
I've been procrastinating, inventing and imagining amazing situations where I could keep my beautiful new house with my window seat and evict my parents, evict that negative emotion. I haven't faced the fact that it will take sacrifices to escape this situation. I feel like I've grown up all of a sudden.
I have to get out of here.
My ears grow tired of listening to this constant recital
Lend yourself only when it suits
For this worthy cause, for this worthy cause
Feed the elevation that you so desperately, so desperately...
And in this voice of confidence
Too proud to admit flawed opinions
Bound to his verbal crusade
Preaching his infected position.
These tones will always deceive the unfamiliar
Still glorifying your misperception.
SO IN LOVE WITH THE SOUND OF YOUR OWN VOICE
And why? You would talk for eternity
The watcher runs
With the circles of his debate
And in the end, what's been achieved?"
It's definitely time to move out.
When you admit a huge weakness in your character; when you ask a small favour of your mother in order to help you overcome this weakness, and you are denied on the grounds that this person who is meant to love you and care for you is too lazy and busy to do this small thing for you... it's definitely time to move out.
When you come home late, exhausted from a stressful weekend worrying about and crying over your soulmate who has had to spend a night in hospital, and from nursing him back to health; when your father attacks you so personally that you break down in tears and sob so hard you cannot draw breath, and even then he has no pity for you; when your mother calls you selfish, thoughtless and immature, and then expects you to come over to the couch and make her feel like she hasn't done anything wrong... it's definitely time to move out.
When neither parent seems to understand how the weight of keeping peace in the family, the weight of all their countless fights, the weight of the negative emotion that they spread in any house that they live in; how that weight descends upon you and bears you down, crushes you to the floor while you try and lift it away from yourself... it's time. It's time. It is time.
From now, the money I earn from teaching is going towards that one goal. I will endure until I have enough. Then I will leave.
I've been procrastinating, inventing and imagining amazing situations where I could keep my beautiful new house with my window seat and evict my parents, evict that negative emotion. I haven't faced the fact that it will take sacrifices to escape this situation. I feel like I've grown up all of a sudden.
I have to get out of here.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Resolve
"Feed my head with some real thoughts
And let me think instead of being taught
I'll say things you won't believe
Just stand back, just let me breathe."
So in the end I got sick of it all and texted the silly fool, and to cut a long story short we are now back to normal.
But now I don't know if I'm as happy as I was before, because Jared said "why do you have to be friends with him again? You've seemed so much happier in the past few weeks."
Have I really? Was I really happier without? Or is my boyfriend just saying things to try and get my friend boy who he detests out of my life? I could never believe for a second that Jared would tell me a lie or even a half-truth. God only knows.
Why can't I have everything? Why can't everyone just be happy?
Things that are annoying me right now:
Answering the phone.
Having to try and be on a diet-ish thing where I'm supposed to be eating healthily but really just wanting to say screw it and snuggle down and eat a king size block of chocolate.
The way that my parents, especially my mother, makes me feel guilty for eating anything at all, but especially when I eat a whole family bag of chips because I'm supposed to ask her permission before I can have any at all. I mean what the fuck. I'm not five years old anymore. This is my house too, except she doesn't seem to think so. We had a fight about me keeping my room tidy and she was like "this is only your house as long as we allow you to stay in it." How inappropriate is it to threaten to kick me out of the house for not tidying my room or for eating a bag of chips? That's like that lady on SVU last night who sent that teenager to prison for urinating on someone's fence. Except she got arrested, and my mum is still laughing too loudly on the phone and coughing in a really dramatic manner that makes me want to strangle her.
The way my dad looks around at me with his eyebrows raised when mum asks me to apologise for something she should have the sense not to take personally, and then he wiggles them and looks at me like I'm stupid. I think it's nearly time to leave home.
How I want to leave home but we just moved into a nice new house which I love, so I don't want to leave. I'd rather evict my parents. I wish I owned this place.
How there are "twi-hards" and "twi-haters". Those are not even clever names. If you're going to go overboard then at least have some imagination and intelligence for God's sake.
This constant pressure that I feel to act like an adult, or at least not to act like a teenager. I have never acted like a teenager. I never thought I'd care, but I do. I just want to complain about stupid stuff! Not have to think about big world issues and be a normal person!
How whenever I feel morose people say "but you should be happy". I am happy. Honest.
And let me think instead of being taught
I'll say things you won't believe
Just stand back, just let me breathe."
So in the end I got sick of it all and texted the silly fool, and to cut a long story short we are now back to normal.
But now I don't know if I'm as happy as I was before, because Jared said "why do you have to be friends with him again? You've seemed so much happier in the past few weeks."
Have I really? Was I really happier without? Or is my boyfriend just saying things to try and get my friend boy who he detests out of my life? I could never believe for a second that Jared would tell me a lie or even a half-truth. God only knows.
Why can't I have everything? Why can't everyone just be happy?
Things that are annoying me right now:
Answering the phone.
Having to try and be on a diet-ish thing where I'm supposed to be eating healthily but really just wanting to say screw it and snuggle down and eat a king size block of chocolate.
The way that my parents, especially my mother, makes me feel guilty for eating anything at all, but especially when I eat a whole family bag of chips because I'm supposed to ask her permission before I can have any at all. I mean what the fuck. I'm not five years old anymore. This is my house too, except she doesn't seem to think so. We had a fight about me keeping my room tidy and she was like "this is only your house as long as we allow you to stay in it." How inappropriate is it to threaten to kick me out of the house for not tidying my room or for eating a bag of chips? That's like that lady on SVU last night who sent that teenager to prison for urinating on someone's fence. Except she got arrested, and my mum is still laughing too loudly on the phone and coughing in a really dramatic manner that makes me want to strangle her.
The way my dad looks around at me with his eyebrows raised when mum asks me to apologise for something she should have the sense not to take personally, and then he wiggles them and looks at me like I'm stupid. I think it's nearly time to leave home.
How I want to leave home but we just moved into a nice new house which I love, so I don't want to leave. I'd rather evict my parents. I wish I owned this place.
How there are "twi-hards" and "twi-haters". Those are not even clever names. If you're going to go overboard then at least have some imagination and intelligence for God's sake.
This constant pressure that I feel to act like an adult, or at least not to act like a teenager. I have never acted like a teenager. I never thought I'd care, but I do. I just want to complain about stupid stuff! Not have to think about big world issues and be a normal person!
How whenever I feel morose people say "but you should be happy". I am happy. Honest.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Abandoned
"The truth is hiding in your eyes
And it's hanging on your tongue
Just boiling in my blood
But you think that I can't see
What kind of man you are
If you're you a man at all...
Well I will figure this one out on my own
On my own...
I'm screaming 'I love you so'
But my thoughts you can't decode.
How did we get here?
I used to know you so well.
How did we get here?
I think I know..."
People are strange. You think you know them, and then they go and do something totally unexpected.
Some people are stranger than others, and this kind of strangeness spills over into the relationships they have with other people. The relationship becomes strange... becomes something out of the ordinary, something others cannot understand. From the outside it can look wrong, disturbing, unnatural; but from the inside it's the safest thing each person knows. For some, it can become like a back stop. A fall net. When your boyfriend breaks up with you, this friend is there to help you not to lose your sense of beauty or worth. When your other friends get petty and catty and ditch you, this friend is there to make sure you are not alone. When the world fails you, this friend is there to step in. And when you have a friend like that, you will defend them to the end. You defend their anomalies, their strangeness, their failings, and especially you defend your relationship, because no matter how intense and unnatural it may seem to others, it's your security.
We were tight. We were tighter than tight. But he has disappeared off the face of my earth, and it's like a rug being pulled from under my feet. I fell, and my safety net should have caught me halfway down... but I'm still falling, and I think I'm beginning to realise that sooner or later I'm going to have to save myself... or break into pieces on the ground.
It almost feels like losing a partner. I dread seeing him around uni, and yet I wish I would because then I could shout at him. I could demand to know where he was when I needed him. I could make him hurt, and be sorry, and then maybe... just maybe... we could be friends again. I could have my net back. I could be safe again. I could stop feeling so abandoned. So bewildered. So lost.
"Where were you when I was burned and broken,
While the days slipped by from my window watching?
Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless?
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me.
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun."
And it's hanging on your tongue
Just boiling in my blood
But you think that I can't see
What kind of man you are
If you're you a man at all...
Well I will figure this one out on my own
On my own...
I'm screaming 'I love you so'
But my thoughts you can't decode.
How did we get here?
I used to know you so well.
How did we get here?
I think I know..."
People are strange. You think you know them, and then they go and do something totally unexpected.
Some people are stranger than others, and this kind of strangeness spills over into the relationships they have with other people. The relationship becomes strange... becomes something out of the ordinary, something others cannot understand. From the outside it can look wrong, disturbing, unnatural; but from the inside it's the safest thing each person knows. For some, it can become like a back stop. A fall net. When your boyfriend breaks up with you, this friend is there to help you not to lose your sense of beauty or worth. When your other friends get petty and catty and ditch you, this friend is there to make sure you are not alone. When the world fails you, this friend is there to step in. And when you have a friend like that, you will defend them to the end. You defend their anomalies, their strangeness, their failings, and especially you defend your relationship, because no matter how intense and unnatural it may seem to others, it's your security.
We were tight. We were tighter than tight. But he has disappeared off the face of my earth, and it's like a rug being pulled from under my feet. I fell, and my safety net should have caught me halfway down... but I'm still falling, and I think I'm beginning to realise that sooner or later I'm going to have to save myself... or break into pieces on the ground.
It almost feels like losing a partner. I dread seeing him around uni, and yet I wish I would because then I could shout at him. I could demand to know where he was when I needed him. I could make him hurt, and be sorry, and then maybe... just maybe... we could be friends again. I could have my net back. I could be safe again. I could stop feeling so abandoned. So bewildered. So lost.
"Where were you when I was burned and broken,
While the days slipped by from my window watching?
Where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless?
Because the things you say and the things you do surround me.
While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun."
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Bars
"Every empty one of us have methods
To quell the madness of this pace
But yours have led and running south
A jealous storm has carried down your face
You could take that wait and all that fuss
So now just get the best of us, you know
Give me love not suicide
And the wiser, wider part of me will show
A picture says with sight
What we can't say with words
But you've been walking eyes to feet in dark sunglasses
A picture will survive
So smile and look alive..."
This weekend was meant to be a nice happy one with Jared as my parents went away. But he ran a temperature and had to go to the doctor, and ended up having to go back to his house. I'm coming to the conclusion his immune system must not be very strong.
So I spent the whole day today watching season one of Grey's Anatomy. I've never watched a whole season of something like that in one day, unless you count Doctor Who (shut up) which I don't. It was actually quite nice not to have to wait a week to find out... well, to remember... what happens next. There's something to be said for wasting a day in front of the tv.
But it was then that I realized that I'm no different. I enjoy drama just as much as the next person. Other people's dramas mean that I can forget mine. It's when it actually gets inside my head that I hate it. And well, obviously! Really, who would like that? So it's my fault, really. For being sensitive. For letting things that aren't real get inside my head. Grey's can make me cry, but for the most part I find it relatively unrealistic. It doesn't really relate to my life like it does to other peoples'. But something like Wuthering Heights... I know EXACTLY what it's like to have someone obsessive and damaged hold on to you. So tightly that you can't breathe. And I know what it's like when you get used to them. And then when you finally break their hold you get so much oxygen that it only takes one spark to ignite...
It's a family trait. Damaged people find us, and grasp us, and use us as ladders to climb back up to the light. But unfortunately, sometimes we get overwhelmed. We have to rip the ladder away from them and use it ourselves. And not look back. And not wonder if they've made it up or not. We have to separate ourselves to survive.
I'm really bad at that bit. I have a chronic case of what if. Of looking back. If anyone took a picture that summed me up, it would be of me looking over my shoulder. It's not healthy, it's not good for me or for anyone around me, but it's just the way things are.
That's another theme. The Way Things Are. Can I help the way I am? The life I've lead, the friends I've made, the people I've been involved with? Should I be punished for that?
This holidays I've caught up with an old friend. He and I have History. It's all resolved now, but that day at that cafe we talked about it for the first time. It all happened two and a half years ago, and it was the FIRST TIME we'd talked about it. It was... liberating. It was really nice to find out that he was still sorry about it... about hurting me. A long dusty puzzle piece clicked into place, completing that picture. And it felt good.
We ended up going back to his place and watching Mr. Bean, and eating gourmet pies. But when a technology malfunction meant that Jared didn't hear from me for hours, and then when he did, found that I was alone in a house with another boy that I'd had History with, he was very upset. Very.
It all culminated in Jared and I having a big long conversation and him asking me to never let myself be alone in a house with another boy again. And it's not like that really happens that often... in fact, hardly ever. But... just the simple fact that I've been forbidden to do something is a new thing. A new step.
I have this problem. It's called being a teenager. I'm lucky, I only have a mild case of it, but it means that sometimes... sometimes... when someone forbids me from doing something, I really REALLY feel like doing it.
Not that I will. But I want to.
Man, I feel screwed up. The only reason I'm blogging about this is that I've been thinking about it, and when I think about it I end up feeling like there's a thin layer of gauze wrapped around me. Like a set of almost-translucent bars around me. Cutting me off. And the question prods me in the side... doesn't he trust me? Doesn't he think that I can look after myself?
I've already asked him stuff like this, and he says he does trust me, but he still feels bad about it. And I will do anything, ANYTHING, to make Jared happy. No question.
But inside myself, in the depths of my mind, I should be allowed to be a bit annoyed.
Right?
To quell the madness of this pace
But yours have led and running south
A jealous storm has carried down your face
You could take that wait and all that fuss
So now just get the best of us, you know
Give me love not suicide
And the wiser, wider part of me will show
A picture says with sight
What we can't say with words
But you've been walking eyes to feet in dark sunglasses
A picture will survive
So smile and look alive..."
This weekend was meant to be a nice happy one with Jared as my parents went away. But he ran a temperature and had to go to the doctor, and ended up having to go back to his house. I'm coming to the conclusion his immune system must not be very strong.
So I spent the whole day today watching season one of Grey's Anatomy. I've never watched a whole season of something like that in one day, unless you count Doctor Who (shut up) which I don't. It was actually quite nice not to have to wait a week to find out... well, to remember... what happens next. There's something to be said for wasting a day in front of the tv.
But it was then that I realized that I'm no different. I enjoy drama just as much as the next person. Other people's dramas mean that I can forget mine. It's when it actually gets inside my head that I hate it. And well, obviously! Really, who would like that? So it's my fault, really. For being sensitive. For letting things that aren't real get inside my head. Grey's can make me cry, but for the most part I find it relatively unrealistic. It doesn't really relate to my life like it does to other peoples'. But something like Wuthering Heights... I know EXACTLY what it's like to have someone obsessive and damaged hold on to you. So tightly that you can't breathe. And I know what it's like when you get used to them. And then when you finally break their hold you get so much oxygen that it only takes one spark to ignite...
It's a family trait. Damaged people find us, and grasp us, and use us as ladders to climb back up to the light. But unfortunately, sometimes we get overwhelmed. We have to rip the ladder away from them and use it ourselves. And not look back. And not wonder if they've made it up or not. We have to separate ourselves to survive.
I'm really bad at that bit. I have a chronic case of what if. Of looking back. If anyone took a picture that summed me up, it would be of me looking over my shoulder. It's not healthy, it's not good for me or for anyone around me, but it's just the way things are.
That's another theme. The Way Things Are. Can I help the way I am? The life I've lead, the friends I've made, the people I've been involved with? Should I be punished for that?
This holidays I've caught up with an old friend. He and I have History. It's all resolved now, but that day at that cafe we talked about it for the first time. It all happened two and a half years ago, and it was the FIRST TIME we'd talked about it. It was... liberating. It was really nice to find out that he was still sorry about it... about hurting me. A long dusty puzzle piece clicked into place, completing that picture. And it felt good.
We ended up going back to his place and watching Mr. Bean, and eating gourmet pies. But when a technology malfunction meant that Jared didn't hear from me for hours, and then when he did, found that I was alone in a house with another boy that I'd had History with, he was very upset. Very.
It all culminated in Jared and I having a big long conversation and him asking me to never let myself be alone in a house with another boy again. And it's not like that really happens that often... in fact, hardly ever. But... just the simple fact that I've been forbidden to do something is a new thing. A new step.
I have this problem. It's called being a teenager. I'm lucky, I only have a mild case of it, but it means that sometimes... sometimes... when someone forbids me from doing something, I really REALLY feel like doing it.
Not that I will. But I want to.
Man, I feel screwed up. The only reason I'm blogging about this is that I've been thinking about it, and when I think about it I end up feeling like there's a thin layer of gauze wrapped around me. Like a set of almost-translucent bars around me. Cutting me off. And the question prods me in the side... doesn't he trust me? Doesn't he think that I can look after myself?
I've already asked him stuff like this, and he says he does trust me, but he still feels bad about it. And I will do anything, ANYTHING, to make Jared happy. No question.
But inside myself, in the depths of my mind, I should be allowed to be a bit annoyed.
Right?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Purgatory
"The world is a drought when out of love
Please come back to us
You're all of the above
'I'm making a choice to be out of touch.
Leave me be,' He said, he said, he said...
'Leave me here in my stark raving, sick, sad little world!
Leave me here in my stark raving, sick, sad little world!'"
I haven't posted for a while... I guess there hasn't really been anything to say. I'd closed that chapter- it was quite a short one I guess. I thought it'd be that easy. Cut the ties. Turn in a new direction. Start a new chapter. I should've known.
It was really weird actually. I was thinking that as I loaded up my blog, and then the latest entry under Danny's blog said something quite similar. That seems to happen to us a lot.
Today I logged into msn for the first time in ages to sort out my mess of a hotmail inbox. There was a message from Shadowboy in it, just a general thing sent out to everyone. He called it Travel Log, and it was just an account of what'd happened to him so far... but reading it made me so... so sad. I suddenly realized that, by cutting the ties I had to him as more than a friend, I'd almost cut him out of my life. Made him someone neutral, normal, unknown. And it hurt. Evidently there are still some sore spots from where I cut the ties, and they haven't healed yet.
So, patience. I must have patience and wait for them to heal. Silly really- I shouldn't've thought that it'd be that fast and easy. I should've listened to you, Danny, when you said time. Twice.
I'm in purgatory. In limbo. Just waiting.
Please come back to us
You're all of the above
'I'm making a choice to be out of touch.
Leave me be,' He said, he said, he said...
'Leave me here in my stark raving, sick, sad little world!
Leave me here in my stark raving, sick, sad little world!'"
I haven't posted for a while... I guess there hasn't really been anything to say. I'd closed that chapter- it was quite a short one I guess. I thought it'd be that easy. Cut the ties. Turn in a new direction. Start a new chapter. I should've known.
It was really weird actually. I was thinking that as I loaded up my blog, and then the latest entry under Danny's blog said something quite similar. That seems to happen to us a lot.
Today I logged into msn for the first time in ages to sort out my mess of a hotmail inbox. There was a message from Shadowboy in it, just a general thing sent out to everyone. He called it Travel Log, and it was just an account of what'd happened to him so far... but reading it made me so... so sad. I suddenly realized that, by cutting the ties I had to him as more than a friend, I'd almost cut him out of my life. Made him someone neutral, normal, unknown. And it hurt. Evidently there are still some sore spots from where I cut the ties, and they haven't healed yet.
So, patience. I must have patience and wait for them to heal. Silly really- I shouldn't've thought that it'd be that fast and easy. I should've listened to you, Danny, when you said time. Twice.
I'm in purgatory. In limbo. Just waiting.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Chapter Two: Stop
"You've got it, you've got it
Some kind of magic
Hypnotic, hypnotic
You're leaving me breathless
I hate this, I hate this
You're not the one I believe in
With God as my witness.
Now when I caught myself I had to stop myself
From saying something that I should've never thought.
Now when I caught myself I had to stop myself
From saying something that I should've never thought of you, of you,
You're pushing and pulling me down to you
But I don't know what I want
No I don't know what I want.
I don't know what I want
But I know it's not you...
Keep pushing and pulling me down
When I know in my heart it's not you."
I don't even know how to start this. It's so stupid and pointless and utterly, utterly sad. But not sad like the previous chapter. Sad like pathetic.
I should know better than to read my old diaries.
A week or so ago I was talking to a friend of mine about a certain problem we both have. I suppose its origin is in our over-developed imaginations, our poets' souls, our elephant's memories for past emotions.
It's the What If.
The wondering what might've happened. With a certain someone. If the stars had all been aligned and it had all worked out the way we wanted at the time.
In the days directly before my Jared, my life, my light and my soulmate, there was a dark tunnel of a teenage love in my life. A boy who- through no fault of his own, because he was almost always direct and honest with me- lived in my heart on and off for three years. From the moment which he first became lodged there his shadow began to fall across me, my love, my mind. And in the last year, this shade of him took on a life of its own... even after the boy had lost that kind of interest in me... even after he kindly, thoughtfully and carefully made this absolutely apparent to me... his shadow continued to take over... to claim territory in my heart until the whole thing was dark and corrupted, until I screamed for release, wanted to rip it out of my chest and escape. Hopeless. My eyes so darkened there was nothing else to see but the shadow. Helpless. Too sick to see any way out or any alternative to this twisted love I had come to hold.
And then, like a candle lighting, like the sun rising, a light appeared. Jared rescued me out of my self-inflicted blindness, lifted me up to the warmth. Showed me what love really is. Gave me my life back, claimed my heart back, healed it. All without even knowing it. I know now what I was always missing. Like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly into the piece next to it, he fit. Like the perfect missing note in a melody, he sang. Like sleep washing over after a long night of sleeplessness, he soothed. He is my soulmate; the one I've waited for through who knows how many past lives. And I wouldn't trade him for the world. I want to get that straight. Whatever else I might say in this entry, it doesn't mean that I'd ever let Jared go. Under any circumstances. Because a life without him would be the most potent living hell imaginable.
And yet... and yet... try as I might, I can't completely let him go. The boy who shadowed my heart for years.
My heart is not his kingdom anymore; it's Jared's. And yet still wonder what it might've been like to be his, without the shadow.
I know he's not the one for me; Jared is. And I know that even if we had been together, it wouldn't've lasted- we were almost too similar, he was almost too much of a kindred sprit. The vibe would've felt wrong. And yet still I wonder what it might've been like to have what I wanted so badly for so long.
Secretly, I never really liked kissing before Jared. It was... boring. Honestly, it really wasn't often that I felt like I really wanted to do it, I just did it because it was expected. I think that's because I'm a very specific person; the only person that I am ever going to feel good kissing is always Jared. And yet still I wonder what it would've been like to kiss him. My shadow boy.
These feelings are on and off, just like when he first appeared in my heart. When they're off they're gone like he never existed. But when they're on they keep me up for hours. Just like tonight. I want to be rid of them completely. I want it to stop. But I know no way how.
This year he's moving to England for a gap year, a working holiday, all on his own. It's been months since I last saw this boy; madness considering he was in my group of friends, a set of people I saw almost every single day last year, and considering that he was one of the people I was closest to for most of that year.
His leaving party is on Friday. He'll be gone for a whole year- it'll be the last time I'm going to see him for quite a while. I want to get these feelings I have finished, over, packed away in a box, taped up and stored in the attic of my mind. I want to never want or have to look at them again.
Jared's coming to this party too. He's finally gotten over his slight jealous streak; though I think he still feels edgy about a few people, and this boy is definitely one of them... and fair enough too, considering what I'm writing here. Again I want to stress that Jared is my soulmate and that I can't live without him: no way in hell, heaven or earth would I swap the two around or do anything to betray or hurt him.
But the problem is that me and this boy have never talked about what happened between us. I think this is because he's not one of those guys who like to talk about their inner feelings, which is horrible for me because that's how I sort things out; through talk. Through action, positive action in a positive direction.
I only ever kissed this boy on the cheek, once. Just once. But lately I keep thinking that I should do it again. Still on the cheek. Still just once more. To kiss goodbye to my memory of him. Goodbye to the last fragments of his shadow. Maybe also to compare kissing his cheek to kissing Jared's... just to make absolutely, positively sure that I'm right about how this boy and I would never have worked out. But I'm afraid that someone will see and take it the wrong way... one of my other friends, or, God forbid, Jared... and I'm scared that this boy might take it the wrong way too. I of all people know that you can never count on what you think you know that someone's thinking.
I know it's a bad idea. But only mostly.
I need closure, but I don't know what to do.
Some kind of magic
Hypnotic, hypnotic
You're leaving me breathless
I hate this, I hate this
You're not the one I believe in
With God as my witness.
Now when I caught myself I had to stop myself
From saying something that I should've never thought.
Now when I caught myself I had to stop myself
From saying something that I should've never thought of you, of you,
You're pushing and pulling me down to you
But I don't know what I want
No I don't know what I want.
I don't know what I want
But I know it's not you...
Keep pushing and pulling me down
When I know in my heart it's not you."
I don't even know how to start this. It's so stupid and pointless and utterly, utterly sad. But not sad like the previous chapter. Sad like pathetic.
I should know better than to read my old diaries.
A week or so ago I was talking to a friend of mine about a certain problem we both have. I suppose its origin is in our over-developed imaginations, our poets' souls, our elephant's memories for past emotions.
It's the What If.
The wondering what might've happened. With a certain someone. If the stars had all been aligned and it had all worked out the way we wanted at the time.
In the days directly before my Jared, my life, my light and my soulmate, there was a dark tunnel of a teenage love in my life. A boy who- through no fault of his own, because he was almost always direct and honest with me- lived in my heart on and off for three years. From the moment which he first became lodged there his shadow began to fall across me, my love, my mind. And in the last year, this shade of him took on a life of its own... even after the boy had lost that kind of interest in me... even after he kindly, thoughtfully and carefully made this absolutely apparent to me... his shadow continued to take over... to claim territory in my heart until the whole thing was dark and corrupted, until I screamed for release, wanted to rip it out of my chest and escape. Hopeless. My eyes so darkened there was nothing else to see but the shadow. Helpless. Too sick to see any way out or any alternative to this twisted love I had come to hold.
And then, like a candle lighting, like the sun rising, a light appeared. Jared rescued me out of my self-inflicted blindness, lifted me up to the warmth. Showed me what love really is. Gave me my life back, claimed my heart back, healed it. All without even knowing it. I know now what I was always missing. Like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly into the piece next to it, he fit. Like the perfect missing note in a melody, he sang. Like sleep washing over after a long night of sleeplessness, he soothed. He is my soulmate; the one I've waited for through who knows how many past lives. And I wouldn't trade him for the world. I want to get that straight. Whatever else I might say in this entry, it doesn't mean that I'd ever let Jared go. Under any circumstances. Because a life without him would be the most potent living hell imaginable.
And yet... and yet... try as I might, I can't completely let him go. The boy who shadowed my heart for years.
My heart is not his kingdom anymore; it's Jared's. And yet still wonder what it might've been like to be his, without the shadow.
I know he's not the one for me; Jared is. And I know that even if we had been together, it wouldn't've lasted- we were almost too similar, he was almost too much of a kindred sprit. The vibe would've felt wrong. And yet still I wonder what it might've been like to have what I wanted so badly for so long.
Secretly, I never really liked kissing before Jared. It was... boring. Honestly, it really wasn't often that I felt like I really wanted to do it, I just did it because it was expected. I think that's because I'm a very specific person; the only person that I am ever going to feel good kissing is always Jared. And yet still I wonder what it would've been like to kiss him. My shadow boy.
These feelings are on and off, just like when he first appeared in my heart. When they're off they're gone like he never existed. But when they're on they keep me up for hours. Just like tonight. I want to be rid of them completely. I want it to stop. But I know no way how.
This year he's moving to England for a gap year, a working holiday, all on his own. It's been months since I last saw this boy; madness considering he was in my group of friends, a set of people I saw almost every single day last year, and considering that he was one of the people I was closest to for most of that year.
His leaving party is on Friday. He'll be gone for a whole year- it'll be the last time I'm going to see him for quite a while. I want to get these feelings I have finished, over, packed away in a box, taped up and stored in the attic of my mind. I want to never want or have to look at them again.
Jared's coming to this party too. He's finally gotten over his slight jealous streak; though I think he still feels edgy about a few people, and this boy is definitely one of them... and fair enough too, considering what I'm writing here. Again I want to stress that Jared is my soulmate and that I can't live without him: no way in hell, heaven or earth would I swap the two around or do anything to betray or hurt him.
But the problem is that me and this boy have never talked about what happened between us. I think this is because he's not one of those guys who like to talk about their inner feelings, which is horrible for me because that's how I sort things out; through talk. Through action, positive action in a positive direction.
I only ever kissed this boy on the cheek, once. Just once. But lately I keep thinking that I should do it again. Still on the cheek. Still just once more. To kiss goodbye to my memory of him. Goodbye to the last fragments of his shadow. Maybe also to compare kissing his cheek to kissing Jared's... just to make absolutely, positively sure that I'm right about how this boy and I would never have worked out. But I'm afraid that someone will see and take it the wrong way... one of my other friends, or, God forbid, Jared... and I'm scared that this boy might take it the wrong way too. I of all people know that you can never count on what you think you know that someone's thinking.
I know it's a bad idea. But only mostly.
I need closure, but I don't know what to do.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Atmosphere
"Since you've been gone I've been lost inside
Tried and failed as we walked by the riverside
I wish you could see the love in her eyes
The best friend that eluded you lost in time
Burned alive in the heat of a grieving mind
But what can I say now?
And it couldn't be more wrong cause there's no one there
Unmistakably lost and without a care
Did we lose all the love that we could have shared
And it's wearing me down, and it's turning me round
And I can't find a way now to find it out
Where are you when I need you?
Are you there?"
I should know by now that movies and tv shows are nothing like real life. But once again real life has gotten sick of being ignored and has come back to bite me.
On screen when someone dies, it's simple. They die, you grieve, there's a funeral and from that you get closure. Simple. Done and dusted. In real life it's nothing like that.
But that's what I was expecting. I went to Nana's funeral fully expecting that this would close the book; that I could start a new chapter of this life in total security, looking forward, feeling new. And I truly believe that I could've...
The problem is that nobody else was thinking like that. Everyone else is expecting their grief to carry on for ages, and so it will...
I've become a great believer in the school of thought that says that the mind controls everything. If you think you're recovering from a disease, for example, that can go a long way towards making you recover.
I'm a planner. I plan out my week, my month, my year, and that makes me feel like I have a purpose in life, that I'm going somewhere. Because if I didn't feel that then I'd crash. My plans are the only thing that keep me sane. And so I get upset when something or someone happens to upset my plan.
So I planned to feel better after the funeral. I planned to make a fresh start when Uni started again. I planned to look forward, to move on, not to forget Nana but to forget the pain, because she wasn't feeling it anymore. But other people keep screwing it up.
It's not really my elders' fault... I know they have to sort out the legal crap, her will and her possessions need to go somewhere... they do have to think about her all the time. But nobody else seems to think like I do.
This is going to sound so horrible and tactless, but I'm sick of thinking about it. I'm sick of everyone thinking about it. Don't they understand that life has to go on? Don't they know that the faster they move on the better they'll feel?
And even if they can't stop thinking about her... I just wish they wouldn't keep mentioning her to me. "Oh, Nana would've loved that..." "Nana would've been so pleased/so proud/so tickled about that"... Would've, would've, WOULD'VE. The plain fact is that she's gone. We all know this. Why do we have to keep reminding ourselves of it? Why does everyone feel the need to do that?
If they're going to keep doing that, I kind of wish they'd all just leave me alone.
And yet I know all this is me acting incredibly selfishly. And I hate it.
I don't know what to do. I'm so impatient for life to go back to normal. And when I leave this house it nearly is. Nearly. But the instant I get back the weight of the family grief descends upon me like an avalanche.
I think what I'm trying to say here is that I'm fine. All the denial and the heartache and the other assorted crap that people usually have to deal with when someone they love dies... I've dealt with it. I should be fine... but I feel like other people aren't letting me get over it.
Tried and failed as we walked by the riverside
I wish you could see the love in her eyes
The best friend that eluded you lost in time
Burned alive in the heat of a grieving mind
But what can I say now?
And it couldn't be more wrong cause there's no one there
Unmistakably lost and without a care
Did we lose all the love that we could have shared
And it's wearing me down, and it's turning me round
And I can't find a way now to find it out
Where are you when I need you?
Are you there?"
I should know by now that movies and tv shows are nothing like real life. But once again real life has gotten sick of being ignored and has come back to bite me.
On screen when someone dies, it's simple. They die, you grieve, there's a funeral and from that you get closure. Simple. Done and dusted. In real life it's nothing like that.
But that's what I was expecting. I went to Nana's funeral fully expecting that this would close the book; that I could start a new chapter of this life in total security, looking forward, feeling new. And I truly believe that I could've...
The problem is that nobody else was thinking like that. Everyone else is expecting their grief to carry on for ages, and so it will...
I've become a great believer in the school of thought that says that the mind controls everything. If you think you're recovering from a disease, for example, that can go a long way towards making you recover.
I'm a planner. I plan out my week, my month, my year, and that makes me feel like I have a purpose in life, that I'm going somewhere. Because if I didn't feel that then I'd crash. My plans are the only thing that keep me sane. And so I get upset when something or someone happens to upset my plan.
So I planned to feel better after the funeral. I planned to make a fresh start when Uni started again. I planned to look forward, to move on, not to forget Nana but to forget the pain, because she wasn't feeling it anymore. But other people keep screwing it up.
It's not really my elders' fault... I know they have to sort out the legal crap, her will and her possessions need to go somewhere... they do have to think about her all the time. But nobody else seems to think like I do.
This is going to sound so horrible and tactless, but I'm sick of thinking about it. I'm sick of everyone thinking about it. Don't they understand that life has to go on? Don't they know that the faster they move on the better they'll feel?
And even if they can't stop thinking about her... I just wish they wouldn't keep mentioning her to me. "Oh, Nana would've loved that..." "Nana would've been so pleased/so proud/so tickled about that"... Would've, would've, WOULD'VE. The plain fact is that she's gone. We all know this. Why do we have to keep reminding ourselves of it? Why does everyone feel the need to do that?
If they're going to keep doing that, I kind of wish they'd all just leave me alone.
And yet I know all this is me acting incredibly selfishly. And I hate it.
I don't know what to do. I'm so impatient for life to go back to normal. And when I leave this house it nearly is. Nearly. But the instant I get back the weight of the family grief descends upon me like an avalanche.
I think what I'm trying to say here is that I'm fine. All the denial and the heartache and the other assorted crap that people usually have to deal with when someone they love dies... I've dealt with it. I should be fine... but I feel like other people aren't letting me get over it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)