I am perhaps not in the best frame of mind to be writing a blog right now, but I don't know what else to do, I'm sure my journal has heard it all before and there is no way I'm going to fall asleep with all of this pounding around in my head. (And my arm is just going to have to deal with the pain--see I'm not a total failure and defeatest...and yes that is kind of how I am feeling at the moment, but maybe more about that later.) And now that I begin to write my mind seems to have gone blank. Where to start, where to go, where to end.
They say time heals all hurts.
Earlier I thought of all sorts of topics I could write about--rejection, stress, etc. Apparently I'm not a very positive sort of person. I have much rewiring of my thinking to do. I know people say that if I know that to just do it. Yeah. I have lots of excuses to put forth. I'm not sure when I got over the "there is no such thing as a reasons, only excuses and there is no such thing as a good excuse"--pretty much no excuse or reason I give has any weight. So then I start to feel like what's the point of anything then. I mean just do what you're "supposed" to do and that's it. No room for exploration...etc. But then I'm misinterpreting and I'll admit that I sometimes willfully misinterpret. See, I'm kind of like Ella from Ella Enchanted (the book) in that way--If someone wants to force me to think someway, I'm not usually okay with that. So, I do those steps of misinterpreting (don't be surprised if this post makes absolutely no sense whatsoever).
So, how to make you mind follow you, the taskmaster. Well, first you need to learn self-discipline (I'm definitely still working on that one). It doesn't matter if your hungry, tired, or hurting--you just have to get over that and do junk anyways. Work is never fun but you just gotta do it anyways (but...see shouldn't you be able to rewire your thinking so it is fun?). Anything that is work will not be fun--I need to remember to tell Nathan that. But he might point out that it is not quite the same thing and I would have to concede his point. Sometimes self-destruction is tempting (I'm not talking about killing myself--I got over that a long time ago...now if death meant you disappeared into oblivion as some people think...well then that might be something to consider, but I settled within myself that I know that to be false and I know I'd be miserable if I did so) I warned you that I'm not exactly in the best frames of mind to be writing a post, but I'm not going to allow myself to care. Think of me what you will. Hate me if you wish. Disapprove of me. Pity me. Ignore me. Whatever.
How hard can I push my body before it absolutely hates me and quits of me...gives up in some way. How much pain can I just push through...but then I guess that is also just dealing and not fixing. And do you see how things get all confused up in my mind. I can take a simple statement...start thinking about it and become so confused I don't know which way is left and right. What are my limits and don't tell me that BS about there being no limits. I know that on some planes of reasoning there really are no limits. There are no limits to imagination. It is no wonder Nathan and I can dream big and bigger. We're human after all. (Nathan and I are often disappointed to discover things are smaller than we expect...) Anyway. There is no limit to what I can dream. But I have to believe that there is some limit to what my body can endure. I probably haven't even scratched the surface of it. It's not like I've ever hit rock bottom, 'cause I haven't. I guess a part of me lives in fear of what will happen when / if I push my body too far. Talk is easy. Talk can be cheap. Chronic illness is not something that can be cured or dealt with in a sentence or two of advise. I don't care what you say, there are some of us who have things go wrong. Whatever. Scratch that train of thought.
Maybe I should move in August. I feel, I know, something life changing is going to happen in my life in August. Do I know what? I have no idea whatsoever. I never do when these feelings come. In February it was carpal tunnel, in August it could be RA (rheumatoid arthritis), who knows. I don't and I won't until it happens. It could be something good. Like what? I don't know. I often wish for marriage, but as I've been repeatedly told--"marriage doesn't solve your problems." I know that. Perhaps it is silly of me to want the support I feel that sort of relationship might give me. Throw myself out into situations where I can meet guys and whatever. You probably don't want to even begin to hear my excuses for not doing that...but I think I will start despite the fact that you'll probably discount them as unimportant.
So, surprising as it may be, I have a limited amount of energy (and we won't go into the back and forth involving that at the moment). So, I have to decide how I am going to allot the energy I do have. So, going out and being social is generally not high on my list of things to do. Then you get into the issue of rejection. Nobody likes rejection--I get that. Would you like to hear a story about rejection? Of course you wouldn't but you're going to hear it anyway. Once upon a time there was a girl. Now this girl was rather quiet and reserved but she enjoyed having friends like most everyone does. It came time for her to enter sixth grade. In her class she discovered that she would have some of her good friends from elementary school there with her and that made her happy. They had had their differences throughout the years as all friends do, but she was excited that there would be some familiar faces in her class. Now, during the first half of the year she ended up becoming a part of a group of girls from her class that she met that year. She enjoyed being with them. December came and there was to be a birthday party for the lead girl of the group. All the girls were there from that group plus our shy girls friends from elementary school. Now it happened at one point in the party that the girls from the new group locked the girls from her elementary school out of the house and started to speak ill of them. Now our shy girl decided to stand up for her friends, they had their problems but they were still her friends and no one should be treated so, to be locked outside on a cold winter day. The new group of girls assured the girl that they were fine with her but not with the others. So, this shy girl declared that if they were going to lock her friends out they would have to lock her out as well. So, she ended up outside in the cold winter air as well. Now what were these girls to do, out in the cold. They decided to go find a phone and close by was the old stone church. They went there and called one of the girls parents and were picked up and driven home. So now the shy girl was no longer accepted by her new friends, so she chose to hang out with her friends from elementary school, not that she had ever really stopped but now she sat by them at lunch as well. (Lunch dynamics are extremely important, especially in middle school. Anyone who thinks otherwise is denying the truth. I won't quibble on this point--it is the truth and you know it). So, despite the fact that she was no longer accepted by her new friends, our shy girl still had a home at lunch. A couple months later in February, in the morning, before the bell rung for school to begin two of the shy girl's friends went to have a private conversation. One of the other girls asked if she could join and was allowed. This continued until all the girls were accepted into the "private conversation" except our shy friend. Now, she too asked. When she denied she figured they were kidding, so she chased them around the room a couple of times, but once she realized they were serious she went to her desk and allowed them to have their private conversation. A couple weeks later they threw her a surprise birthday party. While, it wasn't necessarily the best birthday party, it was thoughtful. Soon they started ignoring her though. And then they started saying mean things to her. They would hit her with their clarinet cases, throw away her gym lock (three times...). They made fun of her whenever they had a chance. And they rejoiced in any opportunity they had to show how much they disliked her. And of course she was banned from their table at lunch. Now our shy girl didn't know what she had done. Why were they accusing her of bragging when she told a friend in the class that she was going to sign up for the 800 meter race for the Hershey track meet since she had won it the previous year. And then go on to sign up for the same race and assure her that they would beat her at it. Once she asked them and they gave her a note saying she pried into her friend who sat next to her in class when she asked about a note when they had been cleaning out their desks. Their accusation that she was being nosy made no sense to her since she had been teasing, plus she already knew the basic idea of what the note her friend had said. The only thing she could conclude was that it must have come from the time she chased them around the room, but that didn't make sense if they had been planning a birthday party for her. Some friends from elementary school refused to get involved, which meant they wouldn't stand up for her when she was kicked off the row where she had her gym locker. It meant that they would not stand up for her when she was verbally and physically abused. And so she was virtually alone. At lunch she had no one to sit by. She had a brief reprieve when she went to band since they were in the other class, but she should not have been surprised that when the two classes were combined and she returned from getting her clarinet from the closet to find her book bag had unceremoniously been removed from it's place with the first clarinets and she was forced to join the third clarinets. While the clarinets in her band looked on sympathetically as she was forced to endure such humiliation, she moved to the back of the room and took her place. At least one of the third clarinets was good enough to be farther up but simply chose third because he liked playing the low notes (while this shy girl thrilled in playing the high notes and was allowed to do so since the first chair clarinet didn't really like to play them), at least his presence helped assuage the hurt and humiliation. There wasn't much she could do when in gym class they would exclude her from games (that sort of thing had happened before and she'd learned how to entertain herself while she did things alone--such as shooting a basketball or hitting a volleyball against the wall). And there was really nothing she could do if they did something to "accidentally" hurt her during class games. The time that hurt the most was when the huge ball used for crab kick ball and the leader of the group kicked it and it hit our shy girl right in the face, causing her glasses to slam into her face. The gloating look on the girl's face hurt more than the blow to the face. Since the girls from elementary school lived near her they rode the same bus alone. The shy girl soon learned that it didn't matter when she got to the bus stop, she would end up at the back of the line by the time the bus came. She no longer hurried to the bus stop, but rather took her time, sometimes even waiting until close to the time when the bus would arrive before making her way to the bus stop. One of the main girls of the group also went to church with this shy girl, causing Sunday to be another day of torture. Our shy girl was so relieved that she had moved up after her birthday. Unfortunately the other girl's birthday soon followed. She made a good show and nobody noticed anything out of the ordinary. The shy girl was already known to be quiet so no one would notice that she shrunk away and clammed up when the other girl was around. The shy girl knew that nothing she said could aid her cause. And so she endured it. Lonely--of course. Very, very alone. Eventually summer came. And then the fall. The shy girl was still deathly afraid of the girls from her elementary school. Luckily they were not in her classes. At lunch she avoided their table like a plague. She feared their harsh words and hard clarinet cases. In the cafeteria there were table and chairs and then along the walls were some plain benches for the overflow. People avoided having to sit on the benches at all cost. The shy girl was the same except when it came to the girls she feared. If the only open spots in the cafeteria were anywhere near where those girls sat she went to the benches. On the other days she sat alone among the crowd, taking any free chair she could find. Luckily, a month into school she received some good news--her family was moving across the country--Thank heaven.
Now, if you read that whole story and didn't like it, well, what can I say. You read it, no one wants to hear it, at least not anyone I've met. And if they do hear it they have something to say like kids are always mean or just get over it. Of course that is not the sole reason for my enormous fear of rejection, but it is definitely a big part of it. Take this as you will. By this point I can hardly remember what I've been speaking of at all in this post. And then it returns. I often feel like a failure in life. I try to not feel that way and I try to improve, but sometimes...sometimes. I know I can't live up to people's expectations. I've tried before. I'd rather work on trying to be who I want to be. Then do it you might tell me. Knowing the end goal and knowing how to get there aren't the same thing. This I do know. I'm trying (or at least trying to try). Perhaps I am doing it all the wrong way. Perhaps I need to just suck it up, go find any old job and pay my bills. Become independent. Work more. Be more social. Learn when to give up on things.
I don't know. What a lovely phrase. Perhaps, perhaps. I guess I need to find a way to have more hope in a better tomorrow. I need to not allow my pain and suffering to have any sort of effect on my level of happiness. I need to see life as good. I need to look at things more positively. I need to be a better friend. I need to... Who knows..."Not, I said the Pig"...not I. Can't I enjoy what I enjoy even though it might also bring in a bit of sorrow. What kind of job should I look for. How to I find motivation. I've been told repeatedly that I just don't have enough desire to change. How do I develop this desire...through hitting rock bottom or through hope. I don't want to hit rock bottom...then again there are lots of things I don't want to do. Like move in August, since that means I'll have to get rid of many of my precious possessions, 'cause I figure I can only take with me what will fit in my car. However, my possessions love me--unconditionally. Can you say the same? My books provide me comfort and escape. Oh, I forgot I shouldn't want to escape from life. I need to face up to my fears. Would you like me to add to the list of should's? I should be asleep right now, I should develop better self-esteem, I should not use should statements.
Well, since I do have to get up in the morning I think it's time for me to go. Ignore all of this mess I just wrote. I am okay, some of the most of the time. I just struggle sometimes...as I know we all do. I know people who have it much worse than I do. Hate me if you will, love me if you can. I'll find my way. The Lord is there to help me even when I am most alone. I can do all things in him...just gotta figure out what he wants me to do. He loves me, this I know--and that is enough for now. It is enough. If no one else ever found me worthy of love, he still will. He loves me--this I know and in this I trust.
Goodnight universe, good morrow world. (For better or worse this post has been written)