Not my emotions

I don’t want to write online, so I’m writing tonight.  I’ll post this sometime tomorrow.

I’m anxious, and excited and nervous and….

Nothing.  I’m suppose to feel all those emotions, but I feel nothing.  There’s a pain in my left hip.  But thats not an emotion.  Thats a sensation.  I’ve been immersing myself in the third Inheritence book.  I devoured the first two, and as satisfying as that once, I’m enjoying the slow progression through the story.  Its a huge book and I’m glad Paolini’s broken the Trilogy into a Cylce.  I can’t imagine how big the book would have been if he didn’t.  I’m not feeling my own emotions, rather feeding off the emotions of the characters within the book.  What they feel, I’m projecting onto myself.  The main character is loath to leave his friends at the moment, but relieved at the company he’s leaving with.  He’s anxious for what lies ahead and preparing himself for battle.

So I’m loathing leaving, but happy with whose leaving with me.  I’m anxious for the future and preparing for something.  The final push, the end of the semester.  Everything ringed in the pain that is in my hip and shooting down my leg.

So I’m searching for my own emotions.  What do I feel?  What am I experiencing?  Disgust with myself, to be honest.  I’m not who or what I want to be.  I want to start exercising again, but that hurts my back so much.  Perhaps exercising will help my back, but I fear it will not.  I don’t want to make things worse.  I wish I didn’t waste so much time.  I wish I wasn’t so addicted to TV.  Is there a support group for television watchers?  I watch way too much crap, trying to fill the void in my head and heart with the emotions of those I see on TV.  I don’t want an overly dramatic life, but I sometimes feel like my life is boring.

What did I do today?  I practiced.  I made breakfast.  I made dinner.  I practiced.  I didn’t go to class.  I watched TV.  I didn’t clean.  I bought Kelly flowers for her concert.  I went to the concert with Mouse.  I knitted.  I came home and went to bed.  My life is boring.  This is not really where I want to be.  This is no longer what I want.  I want to be done with this chapter of my life.  I’m going to miss this town, and the people here.  But I’m so ready to move on.  Its getting to the point where I hate performing and I hate the oboe.  It swallows so much of my time and energy.  I don’t want to touch it.

I remember this feeling of "get me the hell out."  It was back before I came to school.  My GPA was just .05 below the allowed limit for transfers.  So I had to spend one more semester at home, going to school and bringing it back up.  I worked my ass off.  I never went out with my friends.  I was like a girl possessed.  It was my best semester ever.  My GPA was a 3.75 – with 3 classes worth 4 credits a piece.  I studied my ass off, working day and night.  I was determined to get out of there and nothing was going to stop me.

Well, I want out, but I need to find that energy, that drive, that fight.  I want out, but the out I’m seeking now is to roll over and give up.  Sink into a hole and be done with.  I’ve somehow convinced myself this is not going to work.  I’m not smart enough, or tough enough – basically not good enough to make this work.  I’m tired of pretending and trying to convince myself otherwise.  I can convince everyone else, but not myself.  Can’t I just give up and let go?  Or can’t I just find that source of energy and drive and fight?  Where did it come from?  Where did it go?