Look Around.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Day 01.

Day 01- Something you hate about yourself.

That’s heavy. These meme people don't screw around, huh?

I don’t like the word ‘hate.’ It requires so much passion and intent and thought, and it implies that there’s been some dwelling. It implies that there's no going back. It seems so damn permanent. I guess there are things I hate in life, and I’m sure there are things I hate about myself, but it squeebs me out to think about what that says about me.

You don’t want to think there's something about yourself that you spend time loathing and dwelling on, but not correcting. You know? I’d rather see myself as a person that's more logical than that. Or at least more level headed. It seems so… self important?

There certainly are things, despite my lofty ideas about being above such insecurities and self absorption, that I hate about myself. My biggest problem, I think, is my inability to feel safe. Not from burglars or disease or madmen or guns or rabid dogs or monsters or tornadoes (Although I am afraid of falling into a volcano. And sharks. And FLOUR.) I can't feel safe from the emotional ruin I think is lurking around every corner. Fear of that ruin makes me do all kinds of ridiculous things. It causes rifts and fissures to open up inside my head, and doubt to sink in and poison things.

For instance: I have a great relationship. I have no idea at all where it’s going in the future, and that --I think maybe understandably?-- scares the hell out of me. But I can't just leave it at being vaguely uncomfortable, I have to take it farther than that. Not knowing the status of things to come makes me feel like I have no stability, no safety, and it makes me edgy. I get moody and snappy and take out the resulting frustration on my boyfriend, which makes him feel bad and actually MAKES our relationship unstable. I’m causing it, from that aspect, you know? All because I can’t feel safe. I can’t just feel safe in this relationship, whatever it is or becomes, and be happy with it as it is and whatever it will be.

I mean, I’m happy. I am. I just… You wouldn’t know it sometimes. Sometimes I let the neurosis get the better of me, and I panic, and it just turns everything to shit. I know why this is, but knowing doesn’t help me change it.

I'm pretty sure this particular CRAZY goes back to the fact that I never saw my parents in the same room together. Ever. Not once, that I can remember, were they ever inside a house, in the same room, together. I'm sure this can't be true - I'm sure they must have at least wandered into the same room once by accident, but I honestly can't remember having seen it.

My mom and dad were divorced practically before I was born, so I never knew them as a couple. I only knew that they hated each other with a passion that I couldn’t understand and was afraid of. My mother remarried a man that hated children (Thanks, mom. Good choice when you have three kids, two of whom still live at home. NICE ONE.) and didn’t like her very much, either, or people in general as far as I could usually tell. They fought every. Single. Day. Of my life. Every day, I heard different degrees of, “Pack your shit and get out,” and, “I don’t need you or your BS,”… Every day, to the point that it never even occurred to me to think that some people might not live like that, that some people might not be afraid all the time about where they would end up when things went to hell, as they were absolutely going to do any minute.

I never felt safe. Nothing was ever secure. The other shoe was always just about to drop.

Now things are good. Things ARE secure. (I think. (SEE!?)) Our life is rock solid most of the time, but I can’t let myself believe that. I can’t lean in and put any weight on anything because somewhere inside myself, I just know that as soon as I do, everything will fall down around me. That's how it works. I've got a lifetime of examples, why don't we pop some corn and crack open a few beers, and I'll regale you with the memories from my childhood that I wish I could scratch out of my brain with a fork?

This stuff causes all kinds of trouble. All manner of disquiet and unrest, and... Man, I’d really like to be happy. The kind of happy where you aren’t afraid all the time of what could happen. The kind of happy where you can relax and trust and breathe easily.

Because, yaknow, I’m happy… I’m just not WHEE, HAPPY! And I hate it.

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