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…

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?

How To Earn Love and Self-Confidence

Everything must be earned. No one ever gets things just because. You have to do something to deserve it.

I’ve lived by that principle my entire life. I didn’t take things I didn’t feel I deserved. If I hadn’t earned it, I didn’t take it. I even went so far as to force myself to not want the things I hadn’t earned. Everything from new clothes for school and Christmas presents to prom was observed and scrutinized. Did I really deserve that new game? Could I get away with refusing it if I didn’t?

The major flaw with that logic, that particular way of thinking was that I never applied it to reprimands from other people. If I was being scolded, I likely deserved it and tried my hardest to take it to heart. Only when I was too filled with guilt and remorse did I stop listening to scoldings and that was only because there was no need to listen to someone tell me that I was fucked up when I already knew it. But every reprimand, every criticism was taken in and absorbed. Why?

Because, if I was being scolded by someone, it was because they knew better than me and were trying to help me be better. I’ve only recently (in the past 2-3 years) learned that this is not true. People criticize and scold and reprimand sometimes out of fear or anger. They don’t necessarily know what’s best and, quite often, they don’t have any intention of making me a better person. If anything, they’re causing a ruckus because things aren’t going the way they planned and want you to bend over backwards to make their lives easier.

The worst part of that logic, for me, is that, at this point, I bend over backwards without even thinking it through. I know people are just trying to get what they want out of me. I know that people don’t necessarily know the right way of doing things when the “correct” me. But I’m so used to feeling like their criticism and harsh words are deserved and what I’ve earned, I accept it.

And here’s the kicker.

I still feel like I have to earn love. I still feel like any kindness done to me without my earning it is wrong. But I feel like the rest of humanity deserves these things without having to earn them. I don’t deserve happiness, but it is an inherent right of humanity.

I’m so contradictory sometimes that I don’t know if I’ll ever piece myself together properly.


I just don’t understand people who’ve given it up.

Even at my worst, I never let it go. I never stopped believing in the overall goodness of humanity. I never stopped believing in people, even when I didn’t believe in myself. And, when I see someone who’s let that go, someone who’s decided that the changes they could make wouldn’t ever be enough and give up hope, my heart breaks for them.

The hardest part is knowing that I’ve been the same way at some point. I mean, I believe in people. I believe that, even if I were gone, if something had happened to me, the world would still be inherently a good place. But, at the same time, I feel so insignificant, so little that, even if I were to be able save one life (if I could save hers), it wouldn’t be enough. I’d never be able to save everyone and it hurts.

But no one can save everyone. Bad things happen to good people. Circumstances can be the greatest evil in the world. And it’s a painful lesson. But it’s one everyone should try their damndest to accept. I mean, I’ve been sitting on this lesson for almost four years now and it’s only barely starting to click. But I’m trying. I have to.

If I can’t accept that there are going to be situations that I can’t do anything to change, I’ll go insane. I mean, I guess the reason why I’m so concerned with it makes me pretty much insane anyway, but that’s not the point. The point is that I can’t stop trying just because I know there are fixed outcomes. Besides, for the first time, one of those fixed outcomes has been a good thing.

That alone is enough to give me hope.


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.

Why Aren’t You Real?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished fictional characters were real. It was a huge thing when I was a little girl and still is to this day. Heck, I’ve even wished some of the villains were real so I could go along with the good guys to stop them.

But I’ve never wished characters were real more than when I became a fan of Supernatural, Sherlock, and Doctor Who. I mean, not only are the characters likable and, well, downright drool-worthy, but they’re very real, very believable. I could believe in Sam and Dean, I could definitely believe in Sherlock, and I desperately want to believe in the Doctor. I want to believe in them so badly even though I know they’re just actors on a TV show. It makes me feel like a little kid telling her parents that Little Foot was real and how could they possibly know he wasn’t because they weren’t there.

And, as soon as I wrote that, I thought to myself, “That’s totally something the Doctor would say!”

See what I mean? I’m borderline obsessed.

Actually, I don’t know why I throw in “borderline.” Face the facts, ginger, you’re obsessed.

But I think that happens to all fans of these series.

I adore the cast of Supernatural, on and off set. Jared and Jensen are hilarious and I love Misha to bits. I even kinda ish know Jim sorta. By that, I mean, I’m a Facebook/Twitter follower and occasionally get responses, depending on what I’ve posted and all that. But I doubt he’d recognize me in a crowded airport.

I’m not nearly as close with the cast and crew of Sherlock/Doctor Who. I follow them a bit, but mostly just try to be understanding of the fact that they value their personal lives too much to be actively involved in social media. But I love that Martin and Benedict are going to be in the second Hobbit and I’m fangirling over the new Star Trek right now simply because I get to see Zachary Quinto and Benedict in the same movie. I mean, come on! That alone is enough to make me giddy.

But, yeah, I love these guys and wish I could be a more involved person with the production of these sorts of things instead of being in the Navy. I almost feel like the stress from working on those sorts of things would be much more rewarding than life on the ship. In the Navy, it feels like there is no real reward for doing well. At least, not on my ship. If you ever do really well at something, the most you get is a pat on the back.

Well, and a paycheck every couple weeks. That’s always a good thing. But, y’all know what I mean, right? Sometimes, when work is all you have, you’d like a little bit of a confirmation that you’re legitimately doing a good job. It shouldn’t be, in my opinion, that you have to work yourself to death to get a slight form of recognition.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Love y’all lots,