demakat

I finally cleared off my second desk, plugged in my lamp and set up my new tiny christmas tree. Accidental ornaments leads to... little kid style ones made of beads, snowmen (where did I eve get all of these O.o?) and roosters. I never got ornaments because I "don't have a christmas tree" because I don't have my own place. It sounds however like I'm getting more as gifts and it's hard to feel happy about that. It's hard not to feel disappointed in myself because I always told myself I could get a christmas tree when I moved out. I'm not though.

Had an emo-moment in the walmart parking lot yesterday. I saw a picture of someone I know being happy and having a dog after having moved to california over a year ago. It was painful on so many levels, though I don't think I would have been as in love with california as she is. Crying still happened. Thankfully walmart is the land of the hot-mess and so I fit right in.

Then there's the guy that I use to work with. On facebook he is so painfully adorable. Glee in matching clothing and personal appearance adorable. Which is really what I find funny about my brain finding him appealing. I don't really put much effort into my clothing or how I look, I just show up. (see hot-parkinglot-mess above) I would never be fun enough, or pretty enough, or even remotely presentable enough for him. Which is me deciding that he should have a fun and pretty girlfriend, he deserves to be happy (whatever the hell that is for him, because I don't really know. It requires talking to people)

The point is, that I have actually identified my problem. I don't think I am worth much at all, and I'll never be enough of anything. This is what I believe. So when people tell me all the things they tell me, or say about me to others, it's in direct conflict to this belief. I can hear them all, but it all falls off like I'm wearing armor. Which is probably what this belief is. If I am worthless then I can never be hurt, because no one can cut me lower than I think I am.

Sadly being aware of this doesn't actually solve it. I have no idea how to solve it. Most of the time I just ignore it and that works pretty well. Until I'm confronted with it, and then it usually results in crying until I forget again. Which obviously isn't really working, or fixing anything. repeat!

Hooray I figured it out? I am dejected kicked dog...but I did it to myself?
I'm out of analogies. Nothing like being attracted to men to make me completely lose my mind. Boo.

edit: maybe this is why I want a dog. They generally think their people are the complete world and I want something to consistently confront me with the fact that I am worthy of love? seems like a stretch... whatever.

edit2: and then the book I'm reading mentioned this song. Massive amounts of blubbering. Hallelujah

and again...
"Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging" Bingo.

I keep feeling like I'm not good enough. I know I work hard, and my problem solving skills make me accidentally at least passable at anything I do. Yet I have always felt like the things I'm required to present to other people aren't enough. Interestingly though, I don't strive for perfection. I just allow myself to sit in 'not good enough' with a resounding "well, whatever". The balance between people's appreciations making me feel extremely awkward ('can you just please stop gushing, I printed something for you. It is REALLY no big deal') and wanting to feel useful and wanted.

Made toast and coffee for breakfast. Got into a long feminism talk with my mom and one sister, about how it hurts men a lot too. Then on my second cup of coffee I was thinking to myself, while arguing for savory sweet potatoes over sicky sweet at thanksgiving, about how I don't do childish things. How I should probably talk to someone who's trained in helping people untangle their own minds, because it's sort of free through work. And finally, the last time I remember talking to someone, about college and what I wanted to do.

I wanted to go to Evergreen State college, because I wanted to do art. Then I decided that bio was probably a better way to go. Applied to in-state schools and right before we really paid for anything got told that I couldn't take art classes while I was being a biology student there. Backed out of that, and decided that maybe it was really art I loved after all. Was in the process of getting the right course-work for a private school that had illustration. But why go there for the same amount of money that it would cost me to go to the city's fancy art school. Went there for a semester, hated it. Got a degree in graphic design from somewhere near by so I could learn really well how to use the Adobe programs.

SO. Why didn't I just go to evergreen state and get my bougie art degree and become an artist. I wanted to not be my dad, who doesn't like the people he works for, though he is exceptionally good at the job he does. Though they never made a point of pressuring me, as the oldest I always felt the subtle pressure to do better than my parents. Yet here I am still living in their house. Why does having wanted to go to that school STILL feel like being irresponsible. I just imagine being too stubborn to call my parents and ask for help when I know they don't have money. And I can imagine actually finally asking for help, and not knowing how they would even provide that to me. Being an additional tax on their resources when I was the one who decided to just do "whatever".

Yet everyone wants me to write stories. My dad and one of my friends have been telling me for years to illustrate children's books. Drawing a bicycles and flash cards for my nephew is different from making something that will likely get rejected, or worse, will be loved by children.

There's some video of Jim Carry doing a commencement speech going around, where he tells of his father who could have been an amazing comedian. Instead his father thought to do something safe and be an accountant, but then he got laid off. That it's possible to fail at something you don't want. So why not try at something you do want, even though you might fail.

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and then my mom came by my room and we cried at one another about this, and how I have a captive audience in my nephew and that he would love if I made books for him.

So really, at the end. I'm in a better frame of mind from where I was friday. I guess I have new projects, though I have to complete the great christmas gift quest. I'm listening to folk metal, because it's "christmas music" to me. And now I'm headed to the store with my mom and sister in order to gear up for the festival of foods.

I got up at 6:30, only to accidentally get sucked into a book and fail to get out and get an oil change until 8:30. I tried to get my tired rotated as well, but the only day they're open on the weekend is saturday so by the time I got over there it was a 3 hour wait. It got cold finally and everyone likes to freak out and the place is probably having to get a lot of SUV snow tires out of storage.

Finally got an email back about actually being selected for an interview. If anything the running theme through my life seems to be getting people to say stuff. I just want people to straight say things instead of dancing around it as though we don't all know that I was the only candidate as of the 6th or so. This is a selfish request because I don't often say things straight to other people unless someone specifically asks*. We're all just dancing around each other. At least when I'm alone I don't have to do that, I can just be.

I keep flipping between, it being a mistake to have friended someone on facebook or a good thing. I still believe they're an amazing person, even though I have very little first hand evidence of that. They just may not be an amazing person for me to interact with. Or maybe I'm getting weird. It's hard not to feel consumed by the people you work with daily, especially when they're often annoyed or raging. I still feel less even than I did going into the city.

I got called lazy in conversation at work. It felt like those times where you make fun of your siblings, but no one else is allowed to. I'm allowed to say I'm lazy, but if you don't have a valid point then you aren't. The fact that I want to do something as a group and everyone in chicago seems to be obsessed with making a band and that might be a thing to do but I don't like practicing by myself (because I don't care about playing music, I care about doing something as a group)... doesn't make me lazy. I am annoyed that I felt offended however.

My ability to do nothing but wait all of this out is also annoying. I'm not good at being patient. Finally my life is not a giant crazy town, but everything is only unmoving for a short time.

*doesn't help that it's generally considered rude to be direct, and people take many things very personally when that's not the point being made.

everything smells like skunk. Our dane got skunked on this day last year as well. Everything inside the house just absorbs the smell and then I go places smelling funky.

I don't feel like I connect with people who very likely have an actual anxiety disorder, and I'm disappointed? Maybe because even if they're upset on the inside I still feel at ease with them. I just never do anything about it. If we could both get over our issues for a second, that would be a most awesome hug I think. Then I would probably melt into a puddle.

I keep gaining friends who are in really great relationships that seem to work for them so well. I can't help feeling sad, like I'll never find that. Even while I rejoice in what awesome people their significant others are.

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I got up at 4:30am, so I could make coffee and get on a train into the city by 5:20.
After realizing I couldn't get into the racer's area to see my friend start, I made it to chinatown by 7:30-ish.
From 7:30 to 11:30 I stood in chinatown waiting for racers to pass by and finally see my friend.
We spent another hour or so looking for her after she finished.
I finally headed out for the train at 1:45.
Got to the suburbs by 3:20, to the church for a rehearsal and dinner at 4.
I am just getting home at 9pm from that.

That's something like 17 hours of me doing things and being around crowds. I feel like crying even though nothing bad happened. I'm tired and I want someone else to be in charge of taking care of me for a bit.

I got mad at a completely different friend. I've been so stressed out lately with the wedding coming up and trying to do all the right things that I have no mental power left to listen, or anything I normally do for her. I got tired of hearing of comparisons and injustices. I seem to help so many people, an affliction I got from my dad, but I'm just tired. I started accepting other people's caring. Like I've gotten so worn down I have to accept their assistance. That is a major thing for me, and it means I'm changing.

I'm happy that the late night party thing turned into a trip to a daytime corn maze. I liked doing that. I'm also pleased that somehow no one gave any speeches at the rehearsal dinner.

Putting extra blankets on my bed and sleeping all the sleeps...until 4:30am tomorrow morning.

Amazingly I don't have anything to make sad faces about today. I know, its weird. Check back again later, I'm sure it will flare up at some point.

I had to work super early for an all store meeting. I got free coffee and free fruit breakfast (they put milk in the eggs usually and the potatoes seemed coated in cheese-ish stuff). Then I worked for a while and ran out of things to do. The managers were all gone and so I told the appropriate people and went home. Where I had left my wallet that morning...and I was nearly out of gas.

So that was a near major fail at life, but I got home by 12:30 and was able to get some lunch and make cookies. Tried out gluten-free flour with a vegan recipe that I un-veganed with honey. I feel better eating not bread based foods, but I get bored fast...I wish I cared for cooking more.

Sadly my source of vegetables was Ellen's cooking. Now that she's got a toddler, no more veggies for lazy me unless I make them myself. She is mostly putting vegetables into things and feeding everyone noodles because her husband eats a ton of food all at once and she grew up with "just enough" style cooking. So every time she "makes A LOT!" it's really just a regular one pot meal at my house. If I lived there I would probably be able to cook much more, but they're out of rooms and can't handle three adults in one bathroom already. Its hard to get motivated to do anything other than roast vegetables, and once I do that I just eat roasted vegetables for the next day and a half until they're gone...

I have to get the crock pot going in my room at some point to deal with this.
I should probably pay bills first.

...aaand then probably plan out foods.

The guy I work with said something that seems to be sticking with me. In school he was known for putting in the most work? He said it was because he wasn't naturally good at it. It being design in this case.

I went into graphic design because that's where I thought I could get a job and also be creative. It was easy for me to do graphic design and in reality I was fairly lazy in school.

I'm disappointed in myself. Maybe not so much for listening to people at a time when I didn't know what I wanted (and still don't) but also for not perusing something. I drew. I just happened to understand the principles of design before I knew what that was.

But now. I don't usually draw. I do things that don't feel like art, even though I guess it could be.

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I've also been disappointed that I seem to spout off more aggressive opinions than I feel I did when I was younger. I seem to say things out loud that are fleeting, yet those are the words that people learn to associate with me.

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I want to go to bed soon, but it's only 9. I wondering if this year I need to get a light to sit by, or if it's just because I'm torturing myself by writing down things I'd want in a partner. Like being gentle and soft. Fall makes me feel lonely because it's cuddling season, which is the ideal time to know someone soft and gentle.

Really I should just stop making internet flails and go make lunch for tomorrow.

( TL.DR Life is being internally emotionally tragic, outwardly intense, and I somehow ended up with three days of freedom and I don't know what to do with myself. )

I am so incredibly hungry. I don't understand. I'm angry at being hungry, because I don't want to have to feed myself. I don't want food. I want to sleep, but I can't because it's only 8pm and I can't sleep when my stomach is all growly anyhow. *irrational anger and crazy*

Sometimes when I think that I picked the wrong major, I find a thing. A book, magazine spread or in this case a documentary about design, that tells me I'm not crazy.

That I don't have to change everything, maybe I just have to change what I'm doing with it.

I just worry that design isn't fun for me, it's just something I can do well without much effort. Just because I can do something doesn't mean I should though.

Still thinking...

I think muse is what I hoped to continue getting from queens of the stoneage after songs for the deaf. I want to mash the instrumentals from muse with the singing of queens. Or just have them make more like songs for the deaf...

It's still weird to have opinions about music like that...

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I spent all day washing everything but my curtains because some things hadn't been done in a while. I plan to get boxes from work so I can start making exit-piles in them. There is so much that I like, but I don't actually want to have to keep. Ideally if I trip over boxes of things where I can't remember what's even in them anymore, I'll make them leave my room.

While I was waiting for the washer I sat outside and tried to get through more of my 6 questions. It's not going well. It seems I can't remember what I love beyond the basics. I got half a mini page of paper worth of accomplishments. I don't feel like I've done much at all.

Then I got about 1/4 of the way through a baby blanket. It looks cool, but I'm pretty sure my arms are going to fall off. Then probably my butt from sitting so much. (as I sit more to write this...and listen to things...and crochet more...)

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... no that's all I really have. I've been trying to deal with my own shits lately and I feel more lost than ever. At least I'm not all weepy about it right now.