Ah, I’m so uncomfortable in my skin.
I skip Sunday eating and I caught a cold Monday. I felt it sometime after lunch- my throat throbbing with that all-too familiar pain. It’s weird though because I ate a hearty subway sandwich for lunch that day. But being sick might explain the lack-o-motivation this week.
As always, my joints hurt. The backs of my knees are sore, last night I was so warm, that never happens to me. But I bundled up today anyway. My office is always so cold it hurts to type. it’s because the guy who sits right behind me is always hot and I’m too nice to argue. So when I can’t bare it anymore, I try to sneakily change the temp. Just a tad so there isn’t a cold wind on me.
I still haven’t done much with my work day. I’m distracted and.. sweating now? Great. Called and got an appointment with my doctor for August 17 – the soonest time available. Sigh. Not for the cold, but because I can’t gain any weight. I’m failing. The idea of going shopping to buy more fruits and juices and meds makes me feel even more tired. Y’know what, I think I’m going to lunch early so I can sleep afterwards. My joints don’t hurt as much as when I started this blog post (a few hours ago) but I know it’ll come back later tonight.
Darn. And it’s Jeremy and my anniversary. Well, at least he seems to have forgotten.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
forgotten contentment.
i know I need to sleep. I just got home from J Lounge (I can't help it- I like being the only white girl in the room) and my eyes need to rest from wearing contacts before I sleep.
Even though I just spent most of the evening being 'enlightened' about zen (at least that's what I think he was driving at through the drunken slurs) and i had to miss dinner once again- I'm kinda happy. I got a response to my email. I'm happy I got a response AT ALL but it's a big plus that it wasn't rude.
If I think too much about it I'm positive I could draw out some harsh meaning or detect a long history of resentment muffled by his kindness. So I'll just blog a little bit and go to sleep in a kind of forgotten contentment. not really happy, but not in agony either.
I bought new pillows. Now my pains are subsiding maybe I can enjoy them a little more...
Even though I just spent most of the evening being 'enlightened' about zen (at least that's what I think he was driving at through the drunken slurs) and i had to miss dinner once again- I'm kinda happy. I got a response to my email. I'm happy I got a response AT ALL but it's a big plus that it wasn't rude.
If I think too much about it I'm positive I could draw out some harsh meaning or detect a long history of resentment muffled by his kindness. So I'll just blog a little bit and go to sleep in a kind of forgotten contentment. not really happy, but not in agony either.
I bought new pillows. Now my pains are subsiding maybe I can enjoy them a little more...
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Value-Relativism
Ug. I need to remember- never text, call, facebook, skype, or email when on medications.
My back pain was so intense yesterday I took maybe twice the amount I should have for pain killers. But better to snuff that right away than suffer all day and night.
So I may have done something wrong. I’m too dramatic that way. (But this *is* the blog of womanly insanity.) Not that I didn’t put a lot of thought into it first. In fact, I struggled with myself for hours writing and re-writing. Would it be bad if I spoke up after all this time? Is there even anything left to ruin? Knowing what I do, I assume I’m just a stain on certain people’s memory. A blip on the radar at best, or just a foolish mistake. Thinking seriously about this person, I can probably more than assume- one of the last letters I got stated that if they had known I was a Mormon, he never would have met me. And if that’s where I LEFT his feelings, after all these months, I can’t imagine his attitude towards me has improved much.
Anyway, in the end I erased the long letter and left just one sentence that I hope had more meaning in it than a whole book of feelings could convey. If there was anything left to salvage regarding him, I probably just crushed it indefinitely. Never communicate under drugs.
But I am I wrong to be hurt by the last letter before the end? I thought we were such good friends- why would it matter if I’m a Mormon? Just because we can’t be together means that it’s not worth seeing me at all? And all our experiences together were a waste of time? I admit that this is a fear of mine. Because I don’t drink, party, attend regular church services, and observe other religious practices with sincerity that I’d never makes friends. I worry people that I love would reject me, forget me, fear me, resent me, ignore me, being I’m not normal or not enough. Throw me back because I’m a strong member of a faith? Mentally, I recognize it as cruel and people who would really do that I don’t want to be friends with anyway- right? But that doesn’t stop it from stinging and I worry.
In this case, I told him three times that we could only be friends. And three times, he showed it wasn’t enough for him. And I couldn’t keep seeing him if that was the choice he made. So I told him we couldn’t see each other again- if he couldn’t handle being friends. On our last night together I thought he understood that. But still, I should have known that such an extraordinarily passionate person would persist. I answered some of his emails and messages, but it was still breaching my *explicit* request for space. Then in one message he told me all that was wrong with my religion and what he couldn’t accept about it. He told me in detail how wrong headed I, and everyone I love in my religion is flawed or fooled. That wouldn’t have even bothered me so much if it hadn’t ended with a thoughtless statement that it would have been better to never have met me at all.
That was it for me. My principles had been insulted, my wishes ignored, and it was asking for too much to see me again so soon.
I hope someday that someone would see my value. I was born with a conviction and a big mouth. It’s true, I’m dramatic. And Noisy. And I can be stubborn and sensitive and whiney. But I’m also small and weak and terminally naive. So how is it I have the power to hurt others? I don’t mean to. Sigh. How is it that I was hurt and yet I feel guilty?
My back pain was so intense yesterday I took maybe twice the amount I should have for pain killers. But better to snuff that right away than suffer all day and night.
So I may have done something wrong. I’m too dramatic that way. (But this *is* the blog of womanly insanity.) Not that I didn’t put a lot of thought into it first. In fact, I struggled with myself for hours writing and re-writing. Would it be bad if I spoke up after all this time? Is there even anything left to ruin? Knowing what I do, I assume I’m just a stain on certain people’s memory. A blip on the radar at best, or just a foolish mistake. Thinking seriously about this person, I can probably more than assume- one of the last letters I got stated that if they had known I was a Mormon, he never would have met me. And if that’s where I LEFT his feelings, after all these months, I can’t imagine his attitude towards me has improved much.
Anyway, in the end I erased the long letter and left just one sentence that I hope had more meaning in it than a whole book of feelings could convey. If there was anything left to salvage regarding him, I probably just crushed it indefinitely. Never communicate under drugs.
But I am I wrong to be hurt by the last letter before the end? I thought we were such good friends- why would it matter if I’m a Mormon? Just because we can’t be together means that it’s not worth seeing me at all? And all our experiences together were a waste of time? I admit that this is a fear of mine. Because I don’t drink, party, attend regular church services, and observe other religious practices with sincerity that I’d never makes friends. I worry people that I love would reject me, forget me, fear me, resent me, ignore me, being I’m not normal or not enough. Throw me back because I’m a strong member of a faith? Mentally, I recognize it as cruel and people who would really do that I don’t want to be friends with anyway- right? But that doesn’t stop it from stinging and I worry.
In this case, I told him three times that we could only be friends. And three times, he showed it wasn’t enough for him. And I couldn’t keep seeing him if that was the choice he made. So I told him we couldn’t see each other again- if he couldn’t handle being friends. On our last night together I thought he understood that. But still, I should have known that such an extraordinarily passionate person would persist. I answered some of his emails and messages, but it was still breaching my *explicit* request for space. Then in one message he told me all that was wrong with my religion and what he couldn’t accept about it. He told me in detail how wrong headed I, and everyone I love in my religion is flawed or fooled. That wouldn’t have even bothered me so much if it hadn’t ended with a thoughtless statement that it would have been better to never have met me at all.
That was it for me. My principles had been insulted, my wishes ignored, and it was asking for too much to see me again so soon.
I hope someday that someone would see my value. I was born with a conviction and a big mouth. It’s true, I’m dramatic. And Noisy. And I can be stubborn and sensitive and whiney. But I’m also small and weak and terminally naive. So how is it I have the power to hurt others? I don’t mean to. Sigh. How is it that I was hurt and yet I feel guilty?
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
On Pain Killers
The more I think about how difficult relationships are and what a warped person I must be, the more I think I’ll die alone.
Probably from malnourishment. I am heavily medicated right now.
Probably from malnourishment. I am heavily medicated right now.
Malnurishment
I want to see if I can explain this pain.
I had it once before during the time I lived at home after college. I had taken a temp job and after a few weeks of working at a desk, I got this pain.
It’s just between my shoulder blade and spine- it’s not the spine itself, it’s like the muscle. But not the muscle itself because massaging doesn’t help. I tried my Dad’s massage chair at that time and all it did was pummel me so badly I was sore everywhere else in addition. I tried hot baths. I tried sleeping a million different ways. The only thing that worked was very heavy medication for pain relief and I have to take it often.
I had it again when I moved to LA and started an office job. The solution then was, again, medication and then I bought a pillow to drive with. I t helped and I’ve been driving with it ever since. But that was a few years ago and I’ve been in tons of office jobs since. But it’s back again.
This dull obnoxious pain. It makes me dizzy and distracted.
I weighed myself last night- I’m still 100 pounds. And this morning it couldn’t make it’s mind as to wither I was 100 or 99 pounds. I can’t keep the weight on. And then this morning I read that a possible cause for this back pain might be in action.
I just can’t win, can I?
I had it once before during the time I lived at home after college. I had taken a temp job and after a few weeks of working at a desk, I got this pain.
It’s just between my shoulder blade and spine- it’s not the spine itself, it’s like the muscle. But not the muscle itself because massaging doesn’t help. I tried my Dad’s massage chair at that time and all it did was pummel me so badly I was sore everywhere else in addition. I tried hot baths. I tried sleeping a million different ways. The only thing that worked was very heavy medication for pain relief and I have to take it often.
I had it again when I moved to LA and started an office job. The solution then was, again, medication and then I bought a pillow to drive with. I t helped and I’ve been driving with it ever since. But that was a few years ago and I’ve been in tons of office jobs since. But it’s back again.
This dull obnoxious pain. It makes me dizzy and distracted.
I weighed myself last night- I’m still 100 pounds. And this morning it couldn’t make it’s mind as to wither I was 100 or 99 pounds. I can’t keep the weight on. And then this morning I read that a possible cause for this back pain might be in action.
I just can’t win, can I?
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Weathertop wound bleeding
Men, I swear, are poison to me.
Monday, my darling Usagi had her heart broken in much the same way I did. She crawled into bed with me at the hotel. While she talked, I don't think she noticed the tears running down my face. I couldn't help it. From the beginning a few months ago when I heard her talk about this guy I knew that this would happen- that the same thing that happened to me. And I didn't know how to stop it. or if I even should. But I did know very well, that horrible gut wrenching pain- to see someone you love, who seemed to love you back, leave.
To end our pow-wow, I couldn't help it, I cried. Out loud. and so did she. We sobbed together and held onto each other until we laughed at the absurdity of it. And what would John think if he came in and saw these pathetic girls in this miserable weepy mess?
Since then I can't get him out of my mind. I thought I had gotten over this. I was okay with seeing pictures of him . I was even taking steps to re-friend him on some mediums. But I can't now. I'm back to holding my breath when I pass his house on the way home from work. Back to feeling like I got punched in the gut whenever I see his picture or read his name. I'm back to tears at night before I go to sleep wishing wishing wishing that I was as lucky as he- to find someone to fill this horrible hole in my heart.
To me, he is my wound at weathertop. It never quite heals so a little pressure and I'm bleeding again. I know my best chance to get over it is to have someone else in my life. During that short time a month ago that I *had* a boyfriend, I felt so much better. In fact, ever since the loss in October, I've had someone to kinda distract me or take care of me but it's all been temporary relief. Right now I don't have anyone to distract me. And I can't really tell my girl friends about this. How do you justify holding onto pointless misery? I'm a smart girl and I know remembering him is silly, so why am I still crying?
I know too, that it'll always come back to me one way or another. And tonight I had to WORST craving to talk to him. to confirm that his feelings for me was as real as I thought. To know if he misses me. I talked to him briefly but found out nothing and received no comfort. I'm not sure if being treated casually by him makes me feel better or not to be honest. I guess that makes him poison. I know I need to expel him from me to heal but when I drink I hope feverishly that my cure is located at the bottom of the bottle- so I want to drink deeply to reach my salvation. But I think maybe that delicious antidote for my wounded heart has dried up. and all that's left is the poison. Does that make sense?
I'm thirsty. I want his hand back in mine again.
It's weird but I think the same thing might be true of Jeremy. I'm not in love with him or anything but there is this HORRIBLE fact, that his opinion matters to me. Far more than it should considering how poorly he distributes it; not often and if at all- not clearly. I have to dig out any diamond compliment that might appear and then I wonder if I made it up. Nevertheless, I have fallen victim to this poison again- Letting a part of my happiness depend on people who cannot or will not make me feel better. It's my job to determine my own happiness, I know. But knowing what's best and being able to do it are two different things. And sometimes I can do it. but I'm weak right now. I'm tired from the con, frustrated with my job, disappointed with the cafe, and now I'm bleeding in more ways than one (as if one way wasn't enough). It's not an excuse I know.
But if I could wish for one thing tomorrow it would be to hear and know again (without it being an idle attempt to get into my pants) that someone important to me would still like me even if I cut my hair short and dyed it brown. Even though I have a bridge on my nose and I'm too skinny. Even though I can be obnoxiously dramatic and stubbornly opinionated. Even though I don't have a great rack and don't like to go hiking. Even though I'm allergic to cats and not spontaneous.
I'm a fool with wishing of course. But we all have to have dreams, right? Some just have to take a little longer than others to come true.
Monday, my darling Usagi had her heart broken in much the same way I did. She crawled into bed with me at the hotel. While she talked, I don't think she noticed the tears running down my face. I couldn't help it. From the beginning a few months ago when I heard her talk about this guy I knew that this would happen- that the same thing that happened to me. And I didn't know how to stop it. or if I even should. But I did know very well, that horrible gut wrenching pain- to see someone you love, who seemed to love you back, leave.
To end our pow-wow, I couldn't help it, I cried. Out loud. and so did she. We sobbed together and held onto each other until we laughed at the absurdity of it. And what would John think if he came in and saw these pathetic girls in this miserable weepy mess?
Since then I can't get him out of my mind. I thought I had gotten over this. I was okay with seeing pictures of him . I was even taking steps to re-friend him on some mediums. But I can't now. I'm back to holding my breath when I pass his house on the way home from work. Back to feeling like I got punched in the gut whenever I see his picture or read his name. I'm back to tears at night before I go to sleep wishing wishing wishing that I was as lucky as he- to find someone to fill this horrible hole in my heart.
To me, he is my wound at weathertop. It never quite heals so a little pressure and I'm bleeding again. I know my best chance to get over it is to have someone else in my life. During that short time a month ago that I *had* a boyfriend, I felt so much better. In fact, ever since the loss in October, I've had someone to kinda distract me or take care of me but it's all been temporary relief. Right now I don't have anyone to distract me. And I can't really tell my girl friends about this. How do you justify holding onto pointless misery? I'm a smart girl and I know remembering him is silly, so why am I still crying?
I know too, that it'll always come back to me one way or another. And tonight I had to WORST craving to talk to him. to confirm that his feelings for me was as real as I thought. To know if he misses me. I talked to him briefly but found out nothing and received no comfort. I'm not sure if being treated casually by him makes me feel better or not to be honest. I guess that makes him poison. I know I need to expel him from me to heal but when I drink I hope feverishly that my cure is located at the bottom of the bottle- so I want to drink deeply to reach my salvation. But I think maybe that delicious antidote for my wounded heart has dried up. and all that's left is the poison. Does that make sense?
I'm thirsty. I want his hand back in mine again.
It's weird but I think the same thing might be true of Jeremy. I'm not in love with him or anything but there is this HORRIBLE fact, that his opinion matters to me. Far more than it should considering how poorly he distributes it; not often and if at all- not clearly. I have to dig out any diamond compliment that might appear and then I wonder if I made it up. Nevertheless, I have fallen victim to this poison again- Letting a part of my happiness depend on people who cannot or will not make me feel better. It's my job to determine my own happiness, I know. But knowing what's best and being able to do it are two different things. And sometimes I can do it. but I'm weak right now. I'm tired from the con, frustrated with my job, disappointed with the cafe, and now I'm bleeding in more ways than one (as if one way wasn't enough). It's not an excuse I know.
But if I could wish for one thing tomorrow it would be to hear and know again (without it being an idle attempt to get into my pants) that someone important to me would still like me even if I cut my hair short and dyed it brown. Even though I have a bridge on my nose and I'm too skinny. Even though I can be obnoxiously dramatic and stubbornly opinionated. Even though I don't have a great rack and don't like to go hiking. Even though I'm allergic to cats and not spontaneous.
I'm a fool with wishing of course. But we all have to have dreams, right? Some just have to take a little longer than others to come true.
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