“doverie”

Kids are in the tub. I’m babysitting again. I feel guilty because work called and asked if I could work tonite and I had no reason to say No, except for the fact that sleep did not come easy nor stay long last nite. And then I got up and went over to the other campus and worked for a few hours there.

My car is a large pile of scrap metal on treadless rubber circles. :p While driving to school, the little “too hot, too hot!” light came on. Great. Luckily I was close to campus. And on my way home I stopped and bought a quart of oil to put in it. When I opened the hood, I found that the oil cap had, once again, blown off. That can’t possibly be good….At any rate. I made it home ok and the light didn’t come on again even tho the thermostat was really, really hot.

So. I had sent the simplicity poem to someone. And we exchanged a few emails about it. And I need to just babble about it for a little while. So.

I sent the poem and she, in part, responded with:

>: Fear of…??? Yes, it made the alliteration work.
>

I responded with:

>I don’t know. Fear of not being able to pinpoint what’s triggering
>everything. Fear of what may or may not have been. Fear of being forever
>trapped by the not-knowing. Fear of everyday normal things. Fear of
>unfamiliar emotions. Fear of never understanding and therefore never being
>able to fix.

And then she responded with:
One of the difficult things in life is the lack of certainty —
life doesn’t come with guarantees. At some point, no matter how
difficult it is, one has to give up some things. Things change. You
may not have certainty or any real knowledge of what has happened (or
did not happen). You may never completely understand things (or
yourself).

At this point, you can worry about these things, or trust me, trust
life, trust yourself. You can stand on the edge of the cliff and
enjoy the view, you can step back and hide, worrying about it, or you
can pretend the cliff isn’t there. I like to occasionally look over
the cliff and enjoy the view, remembering what it is that makes us
fully human. I don’t like to look too much, because in addition to
the “cliff,” there’s also flowers and sun, dirt and worms, birds,
cats and people. Look over the cliff, but also look at everything
else.

I enjoy her .sig too, which is as follows….
—
The world is full of suffering, but it is also full of people
overcoming their suffering — Helen Keller
——

Ok. So. At some point, no matter how difficult it is, one has to give up some things… Yes. But. The question is…how? I just finished The Picture of Dorian Gray and at one point Dorian needs to escape, so he seeks solace in the opium dens of the time, because that is the only way he knows to erase the horrible memories, feelings, etc.

I have no opium, although the thought is intriguing. And while smoking with everyone last week or whenever that was was quite enjoyable and relaxing…I just can’t get into that on a regular basis. Eheh. Not that I don’t want to. *sigh* Oh Escapism. I dunno. Maybe it’s healthier than razors? Anyways.

So, my options….You can stand on the edge of the cliff and
enjoy the view, you can step back and hide, worrying about it, or you
can pretend the cliff isn’t there. Of course. I spend most of my time pretending it’s not there while at the same time worrying that it is. And then when I see it, it somehow surprises (or startles) me, and I step back and hide. Or run back and hide, at least. The edge is…dangerous. I can’t seem to stand on the edge and enjoy the view, everytime I get close all I can think about is how it would feel to fall off jump off. I can’t seem to get the hang of it. And it feels like I’m running out of road.

So. Alternately (alternatively??)…you can worry about these things, or trust me, trust life, trust yourself.
Ohhh. Trust. My forte! *rolls eyes* *sigh* Well. We know that trusting myself is…well. Unlikely? I always manage to muck it up somehow. I mean. Other people probably trust me- I’m pretty competant in dealing with other peoples’ stuff. I’m quite good at the confidentiality thing and the taking care of things, like children, bit. But as far as me trusting myself in terms of internal happenings? I guess I trust myself to fail pretty consistently. The arm being a case in point. (some things are just better said than read! Like “case in point” and such.) And the fact that I always manage to fall back in to the same stupid ruts. The same stupid hole in the sidewalk, if you will. Even tho I see it. I never manage, really, to walk around it.

Trust life. Hmm. I try to do this. And on some levels, perhaps I do? I mean. Thus far, one mantra that I always give to friends who’re going thru similar rough shit as me is that we always get thru it….. And. We do. Not always entirely unscathed. But. We survive. Life. Sustains me, I guess. But. I’m wary of it. Wary of the curveballs and pitfalls. After so many, ya know, ya stop believing in…something. Stop believing that things are mostly good with some bad tossed in, and start thinking that things are mostly bad with some good randomly tossed about. Even tho. I mean. I guess I know that things are good. At least, I can say that I know it. Do I believe it? Sometimes. But. But not when my head is in the place that it’s in. Not when I think I’m kicking as hard as I can and still sinking. I dunno…maybe it’s a defense mechanism….if I believe that I’m kicking as hard as I can and still feeling like I’m getting nowhere…then part of me has to believe that Life has something to do with it. Cuz if not…if not, then it’s all me. And if it’s all me, and I’m doing the best I can and still not making it….then what’s the point?

And yeah. That’s my mindset often. Probably my mindset now, or at least it’s where my mindset is slipping to. Cuz. Ultimately life is beautiful. The faults are internal, not external.

Ok. So. 0 for 2? …trust me…. This is a tricky one. On one hand it’s more clear cut than the rest (no pun intended). On another, it’s even more difficult to discern. I do trust her, as much as I’m able to trust anything/one. But. That’s like….a 40 year old who reads at a 3rd grade level. If that makes sense. They can read but…not entirely ‘up to par.’ (Who the hell sets these pars anyways…) But. Thus far, there’s not been reason to not trust her, and all evidence points to the simple fact that I should trust her. We’ve talked about trust before and once she said something along the lines of trust being based in…fact…or experience or uh…based in previous actions and such. Whatever we were talking about, she was saying it wasn’t just blind faith.

Some days I trust her because of previous experiences. But some days it’s just blind faith. It’s not even leaping with the knowledge that someone’s there to catch me or meet me at the bottom. It’s more like…falling off the edge and having nothing left to hold onto except “trust.” A word without meaning, on those days. Not to say it’s meaningless. But it’s….it’s like giving a big shoe to ababy….they try to chew on it. Put it on their head. On their hand/arm. Sometimes on their feet. But. They have no sense of what it is, other than this interesting object.

I’m not making sense. It’s just. On days like that, I’m not sure if it’s trust. Or my interpretation of trust. Or what I think she thinks trust should be. I guess it’s a form of trust, but I’m not sure if it’s the genuine thing. I do, I think, always eventually get back to the for real trust, I think. But, still. Only insofar as I am able.

I’m a smart kid. I know that I can and should trust her. But. That whole letting go thing…it’s double-edged. I need to just let go and trust. And yet. I can’t. I want to hold on and let go at the same time, and that doesn’t work.

It’s so cliche, but. I’ve just been burned alot. Almost every time that I’ve really honestly let go and trusted…I get really, really hurt. Granted, those were different circumstances, different relationships. But. Hurt is hurt. I’ve managed to pretty effectively equate “trust” with “Ok, you’re on your own now, I’m leaving…” Even tho I know that’s not how it is. Or. Even tho I should know that that’s not how it is.

I’m just so ungrounded right now. I know what I should do. I know what I want to do. I know that what I want to do isn’t what I should do. I think that what I want to do isn’t really what I want to do. My thoughts come so fast I’m breathless. Everytime I think I know something, I blink and it’s gone again. And yeah. I have this stupid medication. Which I can take. Which sort of slows my brain down. But it -still- makes it hard for me to catch the thoughts, because instead of not being able to get focused, I’m not able to stay focused.

I just want clarity. And not the “clarity” that comes at 3am when I’m watching the red spread across the tissue pressed against my skin. Not the “clarity” that comes when I’m at the bottom of the bottomless pit and think that I’ve finally seen the light. It’s not a light. It’s a mirage. And. And that’s how I feel. Like I’ve been in the desert too long without water. Yet. By all accounts of logic and reason, apparently I’m sitting in the pool?

I just don’t know.

But my sister just called. And she wants me to go help out with Z for a day or so. *sigh* She’s so….like…she brings it up as if….I don’t even know. But she like, skirts around it and doesn’t ask directly. Like she’s afraid I’ll say oh gawd no. how could you expect me to be bothered to do such a thing. especially for you! I don’t know what’s up with that. I mean, geez. I think it’s pretty obvious when I’m there that I can’t get enough of him. I thought it was obvious that I was ecstatic that she lived closer now, so I could see her as well. Maybe I just thought it was obvious cuz, oh, ya know, I SAID it several times. *sigh* I guess we’re just too much alike….unable to believe the positive things without doubt.

Anyways. I said I’d go up on Saturday. Hopefully I can wear short sleeves by then. I mean. She already knows I have scars, sort of. Actually. Last time we ‘talked’ about such things I believe was when she grabbed my arm and inspected my wrist and said It’s not fair!! You never scar… (She, on the other hand, is prone to scar from a papercut.) But. That was back when there weren’t really any visible/noticable scars. Which has…..since changed. But. I shoved everything to the back of my brain when we were in NC and wore short sleeves, as there was nothing fresh. But. Not the case now. fuck. I shouldn’t be getting worse. I should be getting better.

I need to go to bed. I promised Em that I’d call her tomorrow so we could hang out. We were s’posed to hang out today, cuz she came in to town a day early to hang out with me, but I had to work at the other campus and then babysit. And, her sister came up and visited with her. So. I didn’t feel too horrible about not being able to follow thru. But I would really like to see her before she leaves town again. Which. Scares me. I’m not really fit to be a friend right now. Yet. I’m selfish and want to indulge in the pleasure of her company. I just. Worry about dragging her down. I dunno.