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kleenexwomanI woke up at three in the afternoon today. I had about three nice seconds before I was hit with randomized feelings of guilt and a very specific stomachache.
There are some people for whom depression is their base state, there are some for whom it's orgasmic happiness with the world; for some, it is existential dread, and for some, avarice. Background noise, like the radio waves that bounce across the sky from the Big Bang. My background noise is guilt. I'm not sure for what, most of the time; guilt for not living up to what my parents, teachers, and counselors described as my amazing potential? For not spending as much time building meaningful relationships with my friends and family as I do playing Internet games? I feel like I should go out and join the Peace Corps and start building houses for people, or at least take long walks in the woods and contemplate nature and be noble and Thoreau-like. (I get bored fast when I contemplate nature unless I'm in the right mood. If I'm in the right mood I can spend hours staring at bugs, but most of the time I start thinking about werewolves.)
Or, and this is fairly likely, guilt for being so involved with my own problems when people that I love have worse ones. I think I'm going to call this "Starving in China" syndrome. ("They're starving back in China, so finish what you got.")
In any case, I don't know what the stomachache was from either. Possibly from the nachos and off-brand pop I stuffed myself with last night, but I get them fairly often even when I don't eat Doritos and Dr. Thunder (good name for a superhero/villian, shitty name for a pop).
What, you ask, was I doing stuffing myself with nachos and off-brand pop last night? Playing D&D again. I like being a spellcaster.
Afterwards, I suavely invited Kathryn (you remember her, entry a couple weeks ago) up to my room. We talked for three hours, mostly about her family, which is much more interesting than mine. She also volunteered the information that she was not planning to date or have sex until she is 21.
Great. I'm going to have to wait three years to ask her out.
Aaaaaaaand another nice big whack of guilt right there. YOU AREN'T REALLY INTERESTED IN HER! YOU JUST WANT HER FOR SWEATY AWKWARD SEX! Maybe I can excuse myself to me by reminding myself that I am, in fact, attracted to her for her mind, sense of humor, and shared interest in fantasy worlds.
This makes me feel a little better about myself. The only people I actually want to have sex with are (digging back deep into my personal history) people whose minds and personalities I am attracted to. See, brain? I am not shallow.
Yeahbut, says my old girlfriend Tammy, suddenly IMing me to inform me that she's writing a book in which I am a lesbian werewolf who is secretly working for the police. You loved me for my mind, she reminds me. MY MIND. And YOU weren't attracted to me and didn't want to have babies with me YOU HYPOCRITICAL BITCH. (This is, of course, paraphrased somewhat. She doesn't swear.)
More guilt, thank you, I'm back in balance. Even though she's currently an overdramatic baby-rabid Wicca womYn, she has a point. She loved me and I fucked it up. To make matters worse, I started mentally writing her off the second I was aware she loved me. Dunno whether this was her fault, my fault, or both--I guess I expected that the relationship wouldn't change as much as it had, that we'd still talk about poetry and dragons and stuff, just also be in love. What she describes as "friends with benefits" and what I describe as "actually having things in common."
Question: Is this an unreasonable thing to expect? Is love based on shared interests and mental connection, or is it some intangible emotional connection that I'm missing out on?
Yeah, so I'm still hung up on that a little. I think Tammy may have fucked me over, psychologically speaking--screwed up my relationship radar a little. I'm kind of afraid to get into any other relationship because what if I fuck up like I did with her? Was the way she was acting something that I'm going to have to expect from every other normal person?
Anyway, I have a lot of work (CPS 100 BS webpage) to get done before Monday, and I also have to brace myself for Sunday night--I submitted my "Tommy" essay to Fiction Collective. Wish me luck.
There are some people for whom depression is their base state, there are some for whom it's orgasmic happiness with the world; for some, it is existential dread, and for some, avarice. Background noise, like the radio waves that bounce across the sky from the Big Bang. My background noise is guilt. I'm not sure for what, most of the time; guilt for not living up to what my parents, teachers, and counselors described as my amazing potential? For not spending as much time building meaningful relationships with my friends and family as I do playing Internet games? I feel like I should go out and join the Peace Corps and start building houses for people, or at least take long walks in the woods and contemplate nature and be noble and Thoreau-like. (I get bored fast when I contemplate nature unless I'm in the right mood. If I'm in the right mood I can spend hours staring at bugs, but most of the time I start thinking about werewolves.)
Or, and this is fairly likely, guilt for being so involved with my own problems when people that I love have worse ones. I think I'm going to call this "Starving in China" syndrome. ("They're starving back in China, so finish what you got.")
In any case, I don't know what the stomachache was from either. Possibly from the nachos and off-brand pop I stuffed myself with last night, but I get them fairly often even when I don't eat Doritos and Dr. Thunder (good name for a superhero/villian, shitty name for a pop).
What, you ask, was I doing stuffing myself with nachos and off-brand pop last night? Playing D&D again. I like being a spellcaster.
Afterwards, I suavely invited Kathryn (you remember her, entry a couple weeks ago) up to my room. We talked for three hours, mostly about her family, which is much more interesting than mine. She also volunteered the information that she was not planning to date or have sex until she is 21.
Great. I'm going to have to wait three years to ask her out.
Aaaaaaaand another nice big whack of guilt right there. YOU AREN'T REALLY INTERESTED IN HER! YOU JUST WANT HER FOR SWEATY AWKWARD SEX! Maybe I can excuse myself to me by reminding myself that I am, in fact, attracted to her for her mind, sense of humor, and shared interest in fantasy worlds.
This makes me feel a little better about myself. The only people I actually want to have sex with are (digging back deep into my personal history) people whose minds and personalities I am attracted to. See, brain? I am not shallow.
Yeahbut, says my old girlfriend Tammy, suddenly IMing me to inform me that she's writing a book in which I am a lesbian werewolf who is secretly working for the police. You loved me for my mind, she reminds me. MY MIND. And YOU weren't attracted to me and didn't want to have babies with me YOU HYPOCRITICAL BITCH. (This is, of course, paraphrased somewhat. She doesn't swear.)
More guilt, thank you, I'm back in balance. Even though she's currently an overdramatic baby-rabid Wicca womYn, she has a point. She loved me and I fucked it up. To make matters worse, I started mentally writing her off the second I was aware she loved me. Dunno whether this was her fault, my fault, or both--I guess I expected that the relationship wouldn't change as much as it had, that we'd still talk about poetry and dragons and stuff, just also be in love. What she describes as "friends with benefits" and what I describe as "actually having things in common."
Question: Is this an unreasonable thing to expect? Is love based on shared interests and mental connection, or is it some intangible emotional connection that I'm missing out on?
Yeah, so I'm still hung up on that a little. I think Tammy may have fucked me over, psychologically speaking--screwed up my relationship radar a little. I'm kind of afraid to get into any other relationship because what if I fuck up like I did with her? Was the way she was acting something that I'm going to have to expect from every other normal person?
Anyway, I have a lot of work (CPS 100 BS webpage) to get done before Monday, and I also have to brace myself for Sunday night--I submitted my "Tommy" essay to Fiction Collective. Wish me luck.
