carry on, carry on.
Oct. 17th, 2012 11:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
demakatSomething in my room is harboring fruit flies. I can't find what it is, and it doesn't seem to be my trash. Its less gross because I know how to contain/kill them with vinegar and soap in a little dish, but they keep coming back. Its possible they're from when my mom leaves bananas out in the fruit bowl and then blames it on my apples or garlic cloves or something, and they're just flying upwards and ending up at the end of the hall. Then I let them all in when I open my door.
Today was pretty strange. I was super feeling sorry for myself this morning and well into the day. The guy I find attractive ended up having to come into my office and request things and it was awkward. I can't tell if we're both being crazy awkward or if its just me.
But he, like quite a few other guys and even some of the women, seems to think that I will suddenly flip my shit and go off on them in a giant rage because things are getting towards the holidays and...I should be flipping out? I feel a little offended because I spent three weeks doing 2 and then 3 people's jobs without getting angry at anyone. I just accepted what people needed done and adjusted my schedule. I didn't yell and I didn't snap at people to tell them they needed to submit things on a spreadsheet. It just had to be done and it would be. Also if I didn't have something done when people came looking for it I almost always thanked them for reminding me and did it really soon after OR I had it in the plans already and could tell them when to expect it. But still people act as though I'm going to be angry with them. I feel a little like those stories of witches, when really its just some old lonely lady who's given up on brushing her frizzy hair.
I did figure out what a large part of my own issue is, with my job and really a lot of things. I know many things, about other people, about how to do stuff, about myself. Yet I don't believe many of the things I happen to know about myself. I don't believe that I'm worth anything to anyone, but I know I am. I was talking to my mom this morning about this and my dad came in and I was trying to re-say the same thing again to him and it was making him sort of upset. Its probably because he believes I am worth something, lots of things, that I'm amazing. I think it hurts him that I can't accept that I do good work, that I'm pretty good at things or really good at stuff.
The problem I'm having now is that I don't know what to do with this sort of information. I had spent lunch sitting in my car watching a gray sky while it was sunny in the parking lot and after getting bored feeling sorry for myself, I thought about how awesome it would be to paint abstract. To allow myself to do that and simply produce things for the sake of painting and putting down colors. Then I went back inside and bought myself a green apple after telling the produce manager that honey crisp apples are icky. Leaving for the day after feeling kind of let down that I had stayed late to finish things and the lead signmaker had left mostly on time, I gathered all my crap and walked out the back door, where it was raining. I remembered thinking that I didn't need to cry about things because the sky was crying for me, and how funny that thought was. Ended up crying quite a bit in the car right after I got in anyhow, which was likely because I'd fed myself an apple for lunch and some bread for breakfast.
My car smelled of gas inside about half the drive home. I don't know whats wrong with it, it could be the evaporative system, it could be the crank shaft sensor or it could be something to do with the fuel pump because it ran great after the guys at the oil change place hit my gas tank a bit so I could start my car and get it out of their garage. The car is not worth fixing all of those things, it only cost $300 in the first place and the fuel pump alone is likely going to be easily that much. They are notoriously hard to get to and replace as well.
So because I was tired I came straight home, and by that I mean I stopped at the container store and looked at things I don't need then got back into traffic. I listened to people talk about things, made myself some oatmeal (which doesn't make me feel sick at night thankfully) and watched the best most exotic marigold hotel while I knitted. I don't know what it is about movies or music with a theme of india that I love, but it always makes me feel good.
I still don't know how to fit together what I believe about myself and what I know about myself. Every time I try to be kind and talk to myself rationally, I cry. Its as thought I'm trying to tell myself I'm alive when I truly believe I'm dead. I want to have hope, I do have it, but I just can't believe that because it hurts, it might hurt, it has hurt. Yet I at least tentatively trust other people and can usually step back enough to see them for being human and wonderful inside of that being even if they are angry. This is one time where I have identified the issue and I don't know how to fix it...other than writing about it a lot.
Today was pretty strange. I was super feeling sorry for myself this morning and well into the day. The guy I find attractive ended up having to come into my office and request things and it was awkward. I can't tell if we're both being crazy awkward or if its just me.
But he, like quite a few other guys and even some of the women, seems to think that I will suddenly flip my shit and go off on them in a giant rage because things are getting towards the holidays and...I should be flipping out? I feel a little offended because I spent three weeks doing 2 and then 3 people's jobs without getting angry at anyone. I just accepted what people needed done and adjusted my schedule. I didn't yell and I didn't snap at people to tell them they needed to submit things on a spreadsheet. It just had to be done and it would be. Also if I didn't have something done when people came looking for it I almost always thanked them for reminding me and did it really soon after OR I had it in the plans already and could tell them when to expect it. But still people act as though I'm going to be angry with them. I feel a little like those stories of witches, when really its just some old lonely lady who's given up on brushing her frizzy hair.
I did figure out what a large part of my own issue is, with my job and really a lot of things. I know many things, about other people, about how to do stuff, about myself. Yet I don't believe many of the things I happen to know about myself. I don't believe that I'm worth anything to anyone, but I know I am. I was talking to my mom this morning about this and my dad came in and I was trying to re-say the same thing again to him and it was making him sort of upset. Its probably because he believes I am worth something, lots of things, that I'm amazing. I think it hurts him that I can't accept that I do good work, that I'm pretty good at things or really good at stuff.
The problem I'm having now is that I don't know what to do with this sort of information. I had spent lunch sitting in my car watching a gray sky while it was sunny in the parking lot and after getting bored feeling sorry for myself, I thought about how awesome it would be to paint abstract. To allow myself to do that and simply produce things for the sake of painting and putting down colors. Then I went back inside and bought myself a green apple after telling the produce manager that honey crisp apples are icky. Leaving for the day after feeling kind of let down that I had stayed late to finish things and the lead signmaker had left mostly on time, I gathered all my crap and walked out the back door, where it was raining. I remembered thinking that I didn't need to cry about things because the sky was crying for me, and how funny that thought was. Ended up crying quite a bit in the car right after I got in anyhow, which was likely because I'd fed myself an apple for lunch and some bread for breakfast.
My car smelled of gas inside about half the drive home. I don't know whats wrong with it, it could be the evaporative system, it could be the crank shaft sensor or it could be something to do with the fuel pump because it ran great after the guys at the oil change place hit my gas tank a bit so I could start my car and get it out of their garage. The car is not worth fixing all of those things, it only cost $300 in the first place and the fuel pump alone is likely going to be easily that much. They are notoriously hard to get to and replace as well.
So because I was tired I came straight home, and by that I mean I stopped at the container store and looked at things I don't need then got back into traffic. I listened to people talk about things, made myself some oatmeal (which doesn't make me feel sick at night thankfully) and watched the best most exotic marigold hotel while I knitted. I don't know what it is about movies or music with a theme of india that I love, but it always makes me feel good.
I still don't know how to fit together what I believe about myself and what I know about myself. Every time I try to be kind and talk to myself rationally, I cry. Its as thought I'm trying to tell myself I'm alive when I truly believe I'm dead. I want to have hope, I do have it, but I just can't believe that because it hurts, it might hurt, it has hurt. Yet I at least tentatively trust other people and can usually step back enough to see them for being human and wonderful inside of that being even if they are angry. This is one time where I have identified the issue and I don't know how to fix it...other than writing about it a lot.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-18 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 12:29 am (UTC)