Days Like Today

I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. Maybe even sleep for a few weeks. I know I’ve mentioned how much my dreams bother me, but even they’re preferable to the way I’m feeling right now.

I think the hardest part for me is knowing that the way I’m feeling is completely irrational. I take slight scoldings and treat them like the end of the world. And, to me, they are. Because if someone has to scold me, I messed up in a miniscule way that I ought to have been able to correct on my own. Instead, someone else has to notice it and tell me to fix it.

And, if there’s one thing I hate, it’s other people telling me how to do things. I love to learn, but I don’t like it when I think I have it down and mess up. Like this morning when I was on watch. I was yelled at for something so small and that I had no way of knowing, but it still hurt me. It hurt me to the point where all my irrational fears and doubts came back up to the surface, the ones I’d been working so hard to get past.

I know I’m better than that. I know I’m a good person who wouldn’t try to do things wrong on purpose. I know there’s no reason for me to feel like shit every time someone tells me I messed up.

But I do.

And it scares me because, if this is how I react in the military, how am I going to behave in the civilian world? How am I going to handle not having a chain of command to help me with everything? Not that they really help me much, but they’re a convenient source of blame.

But, the point is, when I get out, I’ll have no one to blame but myself. And, really, that scares me, too. Because I play the blame game. I don’t like that, but I do. And, if the only person I can blame is myself, then I’m going to blame myself for a lot. Probably more than I actually deserve (because I’m a masochist like that), but I’d be shouldering a lot. And I’m scared that, when that day comes, I might be alone.

I’m not saying there’s trouble in paradise, far from it. Relationship-wise, the only problem I really have is that he’s shouldering a lot of my stress and burdens right now and, even though I know the day will come where he’ll need me to do the same, I feel guilty. They’re my problems. No one else should have to put up with them (Oh, that’s an old wound, isn’t it?).

I should stop now. I’m rambling because I’m tired and have to stay up even longer than I wanted to. I planned to go to bed after dinner, which I skipped to type this up. It’s ok, though, I’m not all that hungry. I had a very big burger for lunch (because I skipped breakfast).

Ok. Rambling’s done. Posting now.

Martyrdom Pains

I have no idea how much of this is that I simply want to suffer to see others happy and how much is that things really ought to be that way, but…

I’m scared the person I’m seeing would be happier with someone else. He’d never say it. And he often tells me it’s the exact opposite, but, every time I see them together, I feel like that’s how things ought to be. I see them together and I see a happy couple. His family thinks they’re together. They don’t have to hide when they go out. And there are just so many times that I wish I’d just kept my mouth shut and let him think I wasn’t interested at all. There are too many times where I wonder just how much happiness I’m allowed before things go horribly wrong.

Because they always do. Things never end well for me. Never.

God, why am I so damn scared? I don’t want to lose him. I know I’m not, but everything they do together screams “couple.” I am so terrified that I’m never going to be able to be what I’m supposed to be in a relationship. I’m scared that I’m doing everything wrong and that, by admitting that I love him, I’ve doomed it all. I’m scared, guys, really, scared. This isn’t even going on Facebook because I’m scared she’d see it and know.

You know what the worst part is? I like her. I like her a lot. She’s fun and silly and…. completely oblivious to the pain I go through watching her slowly realize that she likes him like that. And watching him take care of her, go do the things that a boyfriend and girlfriend should be able to do together, it’s… it’s ripping me apart. Every time I see the two of them when we’re hanging out, it’s like, I want to be affectionate and to know that he’s still there for me, but, instead, I hear the two of them and how much they have in common and how he loves to pick on her about silly things and how much she likes that he’s always there and…

Dammit, this is why I knew I should’ve just kept to myself. This is why I swore off relationships. They’re too painful, too risky. If you open up your heart to someone, there’s a greater chance it’s going to get ripped to shreds. I was better off alone.

Or maybe I’m just going through some shit. I don’t know. All I know is, this hurts and I needed somewhere to vent. I seriously hope this isn’t too much to be sharing with everyone… I just don’t know what to do right now and I’m terrified that I’m going to be the third wheel when I’m around them. I mean, that’s how it feels right now. That’s honestly how it feels and I can’t do it anymore.

Maybe I should just stop before I break myself too much more. Love shouldn’t be like this…

One Of Those Moments

Where you hurt, have a vague idea as to why, but can’t pinpoint it and put it down into words. I’m having one of those and I think that’s what’s going to kill what I have going for me right now.

I know I’m just depressed. And that’s why I’m trying not to say anything to him right now. What I say when I’m depressed and what I say when I’m not are like… the words of two totally different people. Yes, it’s all me, but the differences are massive. When I’m not depressed, I’m full of snark and wit, but, when I’m depressed and people try to “cheer me up,” I just start clinging to my depression. It’s stupid and stubborn, but that’s what I do.

I think it comes from years and years of my dad acting like I had no right to the way I feel. He would always tell me to stop bitching or, if I told him that something he did made me feel a certain way, he’d tell me that, no, it didn’t and that I was being stupid. And I’d just cling to it. Whatever it was, I’d hold onto it. Because I’d be damned if I let him tell me he knew what I was feeling better than I did. People can tell me they know more than me all they want, but no one knows what I’m feeling better than I do. No one.

And every time someone tells me to stop crying or that there’s no reason to get upset, it just hurts more. Because I have every right to hurt. I have every right to feel what I’m feeling. Even this incredible, intense ache I’m feeling now, I have every right to experience it.

The world doesn’t like to see a girl cry, but what happens when the girl wants to cry?

Why can’t I enjoy my pain as much as my laughter? Why can’t my tears stand just as tall as my thoughts? It just seems so silly that the rest of the world doesn’t see the value of all emotions. We try so desperately to fix what doesn’t need fixing. Being sad, that’s human. Loving someone so much that it almost physically hurts to watch them walk away for a week, that’s human. And, if I plan to be a strong human being, I can’t stifle certain emotions in favor of others. I can’t cut out the sorrow just because joy is preferable.

It’s just not right to do that to myself. I’d be cheating myself if I did.

Dreams vs. Reality

For me, this has always been a difficult subject. See, I’ve always had that little blur between possible and impossible in my head. Granted, I’d never act on it (would I be here if I did?), but it’s been there.

And, as crazy as I know it will label me as, I feel like it’s time to share with the world just why that is.

I have dreams. Dreams that eventually come true, as cliche as it sounds. The thing is that they’ve always been of fairly innocent, inconspicuous things. Dropping a grape on the ground, following someone up the stairs at work, things like that.

No, I’m not one of those, “I saw 9/11 before it happened in a dream” types. No, I don’t claim to know any more than the average person regarding major events in human history. I couldn’t be so fortunate.

No, what I’ve seen is far more intimate and mentally destabilizing. I’ve indirectly seen a close friend’s death months before it happened. I’ve seen classrooms I’ve never been in turn out to be my freshman homeroom. I’ve seen someone I love dearly walking ahead of me after we got together…. before I ever knew we’d be this close.

Needless to say, this has been a very trying topic for me for a long time. I’d always thought it was a neat little thing that I might want to pick apart in my adult years, but, after I lost LyKhel, I really wanted it to just go away. Who should ever have to know when their friends are going to die? That kind of thing shouldn’t belong to any human being and I envy the world for not having that burden.

That’s part of the reason I’ve loved Doctor Who so much. Aside from lovable characters and a brilliant plot, I drew something of a sense of hope from the way the Doctor could see what was and wasn’t supposed to happen and still managed to keep going, to stop bad things from happening at all costs.

I wanted to be him. I wanted to know what would happen and that I could still change it. So long as it wasn’t something that absolutely had to happen, what they called in the show a “fixed point.”

Yes, I know I’m blurring fiction and reality. But when my reality is so close to fiction, where else should I look?

I don’t want to turn to some quack or a self-professed psychic for help. I don’t like telling others about this because I know it sounds like I’m delusional. I know how it seems to most people.

I just wish I knew how to switch it off because it could really kill the relationship I’m in now. It’s making me think about things that just don’t need to be thought about. It’s making me wish I could go back and change things for the “better.”

But I don’t think I’d be much better off in that situation, you know?

Yaoi and Housework

I think there’s something wrong with the brains of yaoi fangirls. Like, something seriously wrong. I keep seeing borderline disturbing images of male characters in female lingerie. Which, you know, would be fine, if I didn’t already know those characters well enough to know that they wouldn’t in a million years wear women’s lingerie. Half the characters I’ve been seeing like this are, well, not particularly masculine, but definitely not the types to be in lingerie.

Also, I’ve been noticing that people don’t actually stop to think about mature content filters on dA. Like, there’s one of a character pulling down another’s underwear, about to go oral on him, and there was absolutely no filter. Like, I didn’t want to see that in my inbox. I joined the group for good fanart, not yaoi fanart. I mean, granted, the art was good. Just the content was kinda icky for me. And I don’t begrudge those who enjoy stuff like that, just please remember that there is censorship for a reason.

Aaaaand I have absolutely no decent transition from that to housework.

So, how ’bout them dishes?

No, but seriously, I feel proud of myself. I got a decent amount of housework done and even went out and bought my *digital* copy of Fire Emblem: Awakening. Which I can’t download yet, but I’ll refrain from ranting about that for now. Basically, routers suck.

The best part is that my room will be in pretty decent shape when my, er, “date” comes over. I just don’t want anyone thinking I’m a slob, you know? Like, I have  a pretty decently clean room anyway, but little things like dirty laundry on the floor and my unmade bed (that I’m sleeping in tonight so that really doesn’t do anything at all) were irking me. Oh, and dishes are done, I need to clean the bathroom a bit, but that’s all quick fix stuff, you know?

Anyway, yeah, that’s about the extent of my day.

Oh, wait. I added some color to my usually monochrome wardrobe. I feel spiffy.

Not Funny

It’s funny how you can want to help and say something to make everything better but, when you stop to think about it, you realize that everything you could say to that person could potentially make things worse.

Now that I think about it, that’s really not funny at all.

I don’t know, I’m just tired of the world throwing it in my face that everyone I love, everyone that has a future planned for themselves, are getting hurt, while I have so little to worry about. I’m in great health (minus the migraines, of course), decent shape, reasonably attractive, and I’m not a complete moron. The only thing is, I feel like I have nowhere to go with myself sometimes. And it makes me so unbearably guilty. Here I am with absolutely no excuse, no reason why I shouldn’t be doing something amazing with my life, and I’m just stuck, sitting here on a laptop, doodling and writing like that’s going to change the world. I should be out there, helping people, doing something with myself, but I make up all these excuses and the world is just passing me by…

I know it’s wrong and I know that, because I recognize this, I should be getting up right now and doing something to change it all. I should be out finding the cure for cancer or something, you know? Ending the war. Feeding the world. Instead, I’m sitting here, with my cup of tea, lamenting my “inability” to do anything.

Some days, I just feel like a special brand of pathetic, the kind that none should aspire to be.