When I'm in distress, whether it be stress or confusion or unhappiness, sometimes I find it hard to function. I get so wrapped up in my thoughts, in my continuous replay of what happened that I can't focus on anything else. The necessities of life go to automatic pilot.
Other times, I simply can't think. I can't identify individual thoughts in my head. The path is too twisted, too complicated, to intertwined between my life and others'.
Sometimes I choose not to think because the thoughts would be too distressing - I go into denial, in a way.
Today feels like a mix of the second two. I feel like I need to think - to sort things through - but I can't pin down exactly what to focus on. I'm not even sure I want to think about it. I have too much real stuff to think about anyway.
Yeah, relationships - and their ending - are messy.
Even more so when they involve a friend.
And the inability (both literal and figural) to remove yourself from the mess.
Healing from emotional wounds is knitting.
You make progress - you get better - you go forward a loop or two.
But then you fall back.
But the falling back isn't pointless.
It isn't always masochistic.
The thread must move backward to fix the forward loops in place.
It's reinforcing the design.
And in the end, after many, many, forward-backward iterations, you have something good.
A scarf.
A sweater.
A hat.
A baby blanket.
A whole.
In my benadryl-induced haze as I was waking up this morning, I remembered something my ex had done. Some words he had spoken that I had to get over, get around, get past.
And I could see the action frozen in time. A frame. A square. I tried to walk around it - to avoid it on one side so that I could get to the other side and move on with my life. And as I got to a different perspective on it, I could see that it was three dimensional. It was a prism-like solid, deeper in the middle than on the ends. It was bigger than I thought. I could see it rotating on some central axis like in computer imaging programs. I tried to keep walking. I kept bumping into it. It kept getting in my way. I never got around it.
It was frustrating.
If I had been more fully awake, I might have cried.
But if I had been more fully awake, it might not have happened.
When my parents first got married, they knew a lady who tried very hard to be proper in her speech. She never said runnin' or fixin' - always running. fixing. She was SO proper that she would add a 'g' to the end of all words that ended in 'in' - regardless of weather she should or not.
This produced such gems as:
It was all my parents could do not to laugh.
Tonight, I saw a guy walking his dog along the streets of Dover. Some contentious citizen had already placed their trash out on the curb for pick-up in the morning. The bright green bag with the Dover city seal was a good enough target for the dog, and apparently it was also good enough for the guy.
In the morning, some poor trash man will have to pick up that bag covered in frozen dog uring.
I can understand cutters now.Emotional pain is hard to deal with. When it's really bad, there's no banged toe to hold, no aching back to massage, no headache to avoid light and loud noises for the sake of.There's just this non-localized, pervasive, almost unbearable pain. You can't touch it or make it go away by what you do.Being able to say, "I cut my finger. My finger hurts." helps. It is comforting.Especially when you can say "My finger hurts because I cut it."Emotional pain is not always clearly defined or caused or understandable. It can leave you confused and hurting even more.As a psychology student, I had heard about this reasoning, and I realized that it made sense, but now I can relate. Empathy is much easier. Understanding is easier.Hearing the wind rush around my protruding room while the boards in this old house creak is comforting.
When I was young, I had a belt.
This belt was special. It was made of an elastic band with the word 'jeans' written all the way around. Even better, the buckle was...
a magnet.
I loved that belt. I was just learning to read when I was wearing it, so I took pride in the fact that I could tell that it said 'jeans' all the way around and imprinted on the buckle. I liked to bring the magnet close to the metal and feel the tug of magnetic force as they got closer and closer together. I liked to stretch it when i wasn't wearing it. I'm pretty sure I frequently wanted to wear it with the rainbow suspenders with the yellow, button-like clips.
But most of all, I was proud of myself for figuring out, all on my own, that 'jeans' had to be upside down for me so that other people could read 'jeans' when they looked at my little pot-bellied waist. That way, I knew which way to put it on in the morning.
Mommy's big girl.
I'm sure she was very proud.
A year or two ago, I found the magnet jeans belt at home. I like belts now, (I guess it was the excellent experience with them in my childhood that paved the way), and I have quite a collection. But, of course, there's always room for one more. So...I stretched out the elastic and continue to wear the belt to this day.
Always careful to make sure you don't have to flip your head upside down to read.
Yesterday when I woke up, I could see, through the curtains, that the sky was red. All I could think about was Legolas saying "A red dawn rises. Blood has been spilt this night." in that breathy voice.A pox upon you Orlando Bloom! You and your hypnotic, hideous voice!Earlier, I was washing my hands and looking at myself in the mirror (yes, I'm narcissistic like that), and I realized that I had one eyebrow raised!!! I've never been able to do that before! Not without my fingers, at least. But as soon as I realized what was going on, I lost it. Couldn't get it back.Weird.I got some little oil lamps from a friend for Christmas. I finally got the funnel out and filled them up yesterday. I lit them, they burned, and it was nice. But then the smoke detector went off, and it wasn't. So I blew them out. I'm going to have to find a better place for them.Murphy, the neighbor/landlord's dog, likes to bark at me. When I'm INSIDE MY OWN HOUSE! My room and the bathroom are on the back of the house, so whenever I'm in either of those rooms and he's in the back yard, he can sense my presence with his doggy-senses and he barks at me. Sometimes, it deteriorates into a little sneeze of a bark. It's fun. :(And now, I should go do actual work. The Defense is coming sooner than I think.
if i were a poet, i could describe to you the way the blanket of clouds looked as i flew over new england, or the way the clouds looked through the part as the sun illuminated them from below.if i were a poet, i could show you, in words, how the colors melted from navy through green and yellow to burning orange and shades of red.if i were a poet, i could map out cities in golden lights that shine through the darkness at thirty thousand feet.if i were a poet, i could tell you about how my granddaddy didn't smile as he lay there. that can't be my granddaddy.if i were a poet, i could play for you a recording of my uncle's unchanging laugh or my father's seldom-heard sobs.if i were a poet, i could impart the peace that i felt as we drove across flat, dark west texas and i could see the milky way and 6 falling stars.if i were a poet, i could grow for you the water lilies that my granddaddy cultivated in arid texas that were given to us in memoriam.if i were a poet, i could make you sit through the ride home with the awkwardness that you alone created.if i were a poet, i could tell better stories.
Could the presence of a Best Buy be a sign of a "developed" nation?
It's full of things that you don't "need" or can't afford if you're poor.
I know it's a big temptation of mine...all those movies and cd's and ipod accessories and digital cameras and printers and computers and big screen tvs...
things i can totally live without and, yet, seem to snatch up (the smaller items anyway...) like they're food!
I recently decided to sponsor a child through World Vision. This will take $35 from me a month. When I think about it on my summer paycheck, it seems like a lot...but then I just went and spent $25 on dvds!!!
I told myself that I would watch how I spent my money so that I could put my Brazilian child first...
people are selfish.
Americans are selfish.
and I am their chief
i am really amazed at how, once God brings something to my attention, he continues to do so over and over again.
i am really, for once, actually humbled at the opportunity to be a part of his work. i am so excited about what is happening in the life of my friend.
i'm starting to get annoyed at one of my friends in the study. it's not that she says things that i belive are untrue, it's the way she says them. it's basically my problem. i just feel like she drones on and on when she wants to make a point. and her manner seems forced somehow. and tonight, she prayed and prayed and prayed...
i found it odd because recently we had discussed the passage that talks about letting our words be few before God...sigh. i'm just easily annoyed i guess. and arrogant. i feel bad about saying anything to anyone here, and i'm not mentioning names, and i don't think anyone even reads this...so i can get it out without all the ..whatever.
she could already tell that this was going to be an awkward day.
the beginning was ok. same as it ever was. she reflexively turned off the alarm, made her bed, and went to get a shower.
it was only during the after-shower routine that she realized that it was going to be an awkward day. none of her clothes looked right. they all made her feel dumpy - too big around the middle. she was, in all actuality, a small girl. she knew this. but no matter how many combinations of shirts, skirts, pants, capris she tried, nothing felt right.
and then there was her hair. it was volumnous in the wrong places. the ends were getting big and the roots flat. everyone knows it's supposed to be volume in the roots and straight and calm at the ends.
*sigh*
she finished her routine, settling on the 'fat' jeans and one of her cutest tees, hoping that these would help her feel better. nothing special was happening today, the outfit would do, though it sort of felt wrong to use her favorite clothes on a day when she didn't feel it.
she looked in the cabinets for breakfast. nothing looked right. she was running late. this meant no time for poaching an egg or sitting with a cold bowl of cereal. she decided to stop and get a doughnut on her way to campus.
so, making these concessions to her mood, she left home - gritting her teeth to the awkwardness she knew would trail after her all day.
this happened from time to time. she could never figure out why these days happened, what triggered them. most days she was fine. no feeling in particular. and on some days she was super confident...hair, clothes, attitude, job, school, all seemed to click. and while she enjoyed those days, she was wary of becoming too confident - cocky. she never wanted to be one of those girls.
she defined the awkward days as the days when she was very aware. aware of the fact that her hair was doing that funny wave thing. aware that she probably looked like she was scowling to everyone that passed by. aware that her walk felt - and probably looked - stilted. formal. and once she noticed one of these things, or countless others, the rest would follow. she would get to class and realize that her writing was incredibly loud, that she moved around in her seat much more than anyone else or that she sniffed with every third breath.
and with all of this awareness came awkwardness. awkward like a colt looks. like young Hercules in the Disney movie.
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if things kept up like this, she would probably get too frustrated at traffic or something stupid like that and shead a tear or two as she pounded the steering wheel and screamed.
all in the privacy of her own car - of course. it would be FAR too awkward to do any of this in front of someone else.
(but that's the thing, isn't it? she felt awkward because she felt different. that she had a different body type than most of the people out there. that her hair looked different, that her walk looked different. and because life doesn't go the way we think it SHOULD, we feel conspicuous. afraid of the thoughts of our peers, which we think are there because we know our own thoughts, the way we think about our awkward peers. kind of hypocritical, isn't it?)
i did not consider myself cool until i spent a few years away from home at college.
whenever i go back home, or spend time with my sisters, i feel far less cool. more awkward. annoying. i feel like i revert.
one sister just exploded into awesomeness in the past few years...so by comparison, i feel like a poser.
the other sister has a very short temper, so i feel like i'm annoying when i'm around her.
i know a lot of it is in my head. and i don't know what to do about it.
once i thought i saw stephen baldwin.
it was in the huntsville airport. he was sitting at a terminal on the phone. sitting up very straight. looking. slightly smiling.
i didn't want to stare, so i'm still not completely sure that it was him.
if it was him...what was he doing in huntsville, alabama?
in my dream, he was there. i caught a glimpse of him, but then he was hidden behind someone's head. at such an angle and distance that i couldn't move to see him.
i was frustrated. but a friend was crying, and i had to comfort her.
In the West Wing episode 'Han' Josh is talking to Amy about what's going on between them.
and as much as I hope for Josh and Donna to get together, my romantic little heart melts at his voice. at that time, he really wanted Amy. and it makes me sad. and...
i long for that, i guess.
Other times, I simply can't think. I can't identify individual thoughts in my head. The path is too twisted, too complicated, to intertwined between my life and others'.
