...And So I'd Like To Say...
Alright, so as of 4:30 pm yesterday, I am on holidays :) I'm sitting in Cold Lake right now, packing and relaxing, having slept in all the way to 7:30 this morning. Whoohooo!! LOL
I'm in a good mood again today. It's like 4 of them in a row (not counting a couple low spots yesterday). Last night, Joe and I decided to stay out drinking after Billy and his brother packed it in and went home. We got a hold of another person we work with and went to meet her and her friends, but were more or less promptly ditched. But then they called us again from "The Camel's Toe" (seriously, who the hell would call a business that??) and met up again. I hate bars, I always have. The loud, repetitious music, the posturing, the smoke, the crowds, the three guys talking on cell phones while standing at the urinal. Twisted. But I did have a relatively good time. I met a "professional spanker". I overheard this young woman "talking (I'm putting this in perentheses because talking at the bar is leaning in and yelling) about how she spanks people for a living. She approached me at one point and made a comment about me watching the coats of the people we were with being (how did she put it?) "controlled by the pussy at the table". I laughed and told her she was way off base. I wasn't interested in the "pussy" at the table, and the coats I was watching all happened to be under mine because I was the last to take mine off. Anyway, all in all a fun evening. OH! I saw two guys having a dance off too. That was fucking hilarious. Hysterical.
So, that's if for 2006. Diane's coming to get me today to take me to get my loaner car and I'll be off line for the rest of the year (unless I can pick up a wireless signal at home, but I doubt it). It's been a year, and I'm glad it's over. Here's to a new beginning (which I've already began), to breaking old habits, starting and continuing new things, and being a better friend to myself. Thanks to everyone who has put up with me in my less stable moments this year.
Cheers :)
Hmmm. Last day of work for the year. As of 6pm tonight, we are officially on holidays until Jan. 4. I don't really have too much planned, as far as plans go. Tomorrow is the winter solstice, Diane's coming to pick me up from Cold Lake to go to St. Paul to pick up my loaner vehicle and then we're opening presents on monday. How's that for planning?
What else is on my mind today? Barb and I had a chat yesterday. She's been quiet, and a little upset the last little bit so I had a sit down with her. Turns out she's upset with me (imagine), that I've been letting her shovel the driveway and that sort of thing. We worked it out though, I think.
Mind-altering medication is resposible for the decline of modern society. I worked this out this morning. Pharamcists and doctors have given people who already have a predisposition to the "quick fix" patches for everything from depression to aggression. We used to be taught to sit still, don't talk with your mouthful, respect your elders, say please, don't hit your sister.... Now they diagnos ADD or Clinical Depresion or something. I don't really believe this, it's just a thought I had on the way in this morning.
Practise Makes Perfect?
What is it I have going on today? More or less just trying to pass the time until tomorrow night and we get to go home. Sleeping in, eating, sleeping in some more. I just want some time to relax, even though I always waste it. I also have to find out about a rental vehicle this morning so that I can get home. I'll have to get a hold of the manager at the dealership after 9am.
Last night I was sitting outside, rehearsing conversations about how to explain what is going on in my head. It's a nasty habit I have, and most of the time, once I have it figured out, I don't talk about it anyway. It's almost like having the practise conversation is good enough. The people that I haven't actually talked to have come to my understanding and the matter is settled. It's not true, of course. This is likely a part of the frustration I feel. I still think if I could actually talk to people, I wouldn't have to write this blog, even though I do enjoy it. Honest, I do.
On the home front, I'm getting that need to talk again. I want to tell Diane about how I feel, why I think I can finally start feeling good about myself again. I want to tell her that things aren't as bad as she thinks they are. But I'm afraid to say things to her about the stuff I feel. She thinks I'm fragile (and so do a lot of people, apparently), and maybe I am, but it's more the hurt she's always expecting, the
finallity of something she dreads that doesn't come, the "waiting for the other shoe to drop". It's this tension between us that keeps me from talking to her. She's happy not knowing, she says, and I have to talk things out. I don't know. Maybe I just need her approval, her support and validation before I can accept myself. I just wish we could talk, because she's such an important person in my life. Probably THE most important.
Starting off slow this morning. I was riding in the van to work, half sleeping as usual and I had a revelation of some kind, but drfted off and lost it. Happens to me more often than I like to admit.
So, officially the word came down; we're not working thursday. It's kind of exciting, but I'm stuck without wheels since the transmission in my jeep went last week. I have to get a hold of the dealership I bought it at and let them know that I'll be needing the rental a day early. I won't be going home on wednesday night though.
I've been thinking about my insecurities for a while, and over the last little bit I've been mulling around the concept of doing less to hide them, and embracing them. The only reason it hurts so much is because I worry so much about what other people are going to do. If I defuse that, take away the influence of others, I can go forward. Easy, huh? Nice theory. The problem therein is I've been down this road, opened up and explained what I thought I knew about what is going on in my head. How is it different this time? I'm looking at the problem a different way. I've taken a broader approach. I'm trying to take things from an overall perspect as opposed to breaking it down, focussing on the pieces and losing sight of the overall theme.
What does that all mean? I don't think I'm quite ready to say that here yet, but I'm closer.
Revamped and Rewritten
Fuck it. It's time to start writing again. And not only writing, sharing my thoughts. I have been in my "why is everyone whispering about me" frame of mind. I hate this space in my head. The in ability to write, to complete a thought, to have a fucking conversation. I don't have "flow" anymore. I AM scared. I'm frightened that people aren't going to "like me", or judge me, or.... What, Trent? What is it that you're afraid of? I'm afraid to open myself, in any way, to any one. Smarten up, fuckhead. You've been through worse than this. You don't have anyone to be afraid of, including yourself. Change the patterns, explore again and for the love of pete, get up and fucking fight back. They aren't always right, and you aren't wrong. And when you are, you learn. There's going to be better things, better days, but you have to change it.
I started therapy last week. The first session was good, I think. Steve (the therapist) thinks I have an anxiety disorder of some sort. He thinks I'm "living scared", and he's right. I'd started writing a story, one that I think has the potential to be one of the most original pieces I've written, and I don't want to share it because I don't want people to compare me to the lead character, a guy named Roy who thinks he's a vampire and can't figure out why his powers don't work. Seriously. I can't do it anymore. I can't live in this tiny, isolated box anymore. I've stunted myself, cut off my own legs in a sense.
FUCK!I need to get out and release some of this.
So, I'm going back to blogging everyday, even if I don't have anything important to say, because it IS important. All of it. The words that spill randomly from my fingers as I sit and type and the deep, important thoughts. And to the Clayton's of the world, those that see my pictures, read my words, those that think they have some inkling of what I am, or who I may have been/will be, suck my ass. Close minded shithead.
"Bunch a fuckin' babies"
One for All
There it is, the uneasy, elusive balance that stops my nut from rocking back and forth across the room. It is the uneasy surety that my computer is tapped, that my friends are so sure they are manipulating me. The sly peripheral glances at the movement around the room. I'm not avoiding eye contact. I counting you, knowing where you stand. And no, I won't repeat what I just said, because I saw you shift just then, pointing that microphone at me. None of you even realize it. You think I don't notice you avoiding that open window behind the browser you just wave the pointer over while I'm in the room? I've been hiding more, and for longer. I know the signs. My senses are sharper than you think.
It has become easier not to talk about anything. I thought over the years it would be the opposite. That eventually, I would have the answers, that explaining everything to each new person would make it scripted. That the bigger picture would develop. It never did. The more I explained, the less people understood, and now ever word is a sledgehammer blow to the stomach. Every polite attempt to make people aware is a cold stab in the chest.
I don't need you to understand anymore. It doesn't matter because in my attempt to make you happy, I've made everyone miserable. You aren't ready to understand. You likely never will be. I'm like you, I'm like everyone. And it's because I am that we are different. It's also why you are so disparate, so disappointed when you don't know who I am anymore. I wish it didn't have to be like this.
