Undone

The thing that worries me most about getting married and moving away…. by Derringer Meryl….

My parents. More specifically my mom. I love my mom. SO much. I don’t know if this falls in line with needing to cut the apron strings or what…. but i worry about her being at home with my dad. When i was there, I could at least comfort her with my presence… (wow that sounds cocky…) I could help her, and understand. Now i’m not sure what to do. I guess that’s the weird thing about moving away.

My mom has always been my best friend. she’s always told me what to do when stuff got tough, and …. i don’t know how to explain it. Mom’s just always been there. Always.

So it feels weird. Not to mention i worry a lot about her.

I worry that something bad will happen to her while i’m not there. That she’ll finally hit the point of no return with tolerance for my dad… I know she’s getting there. Most everyone does….

*sighs*

Derringer Meryl [Paranoid?] out

All sorts of icky acidy goodness filling my stomach.

I’m tired of my job. I mean, I love my job. I’m tired of never working. I haven’t worked since the third of April. That’s sixteen days, and only three of those days I’m unable to work. Okay, Five, if you count tuesdays.

ALL THE SAME. I have a paycheck i’m getting now that is going to be nothing. as in NO money. I feel like pulling my hair out. I hate not working. I hate not having a job, i feel useless and like I’m a mooch. No one ever says it to me, but I do. I feel like a mooch and I”m feeding off of other people. Especially Scott. I feel like I’m really coasting off of his paycheck, and i know it puts a lot of stress on him. Or at least I feel like I put a lot of stress on him. I’m exhausted from feeling like i’m living in two places.

and helpless and insane. I don’t know how to do anything. I don’t know how to pick out a good apartment, I don’t know how to cook very well. i apparently can’t write (according to my teacher) I like to vaccum in skirts, and I bite the skin on the inside of my cheeks. I don’t own a car, I wish I did. I dont’ know how to do anything well enough to make a job of it, with the psycho exception of the alphabet. I know the alphabet, and I know it well enough to be paid an amazingly low amount to put disgusting germy games back in order for four hours a week. No one cares.

and I just sit back and let bad things, like this damn work insanity, happen to me because i have this brain impairment that makes me think “I deserve bad things that happen to me” I dont’ know where it came from. I don’t know why i have it. I just do.

and i feel like my brain is slowly leaking out my ears thanks to everywhere my mind has to be at once. School, and work and wedding plans, after wedding plans…. work and the like. New job, apartment (which i know nothing about finding a good apartment) I’m starting to just … ooze stress.

I was thinking about this quote last night. Scott was saying that he wished that people were more rational about things. It made me think of this: “Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… …waiting… And though unwanted… …unbidden… it will stir…open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us… guides us… Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of hatred… and the ecstasy of grief.It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank… Without passion, we’d be truly dead.”

I believe it. I believe that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference. Indifference, the lack of passion, is what kills everyone. It’s what makes the rejected weep and neglected children exist. I always used to think that if my Dad hit me, at least i’d know how he felt about me. (not that he ever did, i’m just saying) the not knowing… that’s what kills you. The wondering if it’s true. Floundering between one place and another. Not knowing how someone feels, and then finding that person feels nothing, not good nor bad…. not evoking any sort of emotion in a person can kill you.

Passion: intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction

How can you live without it? I’m not saying you should let your passions rule you (too many people do, thus the STD out break-y non-goodness.) Let them fill you. And show restraint. I’m definitely not saying “Go out and be tempted on purpose! WHEE!” That’d just be stupid. No… Live. Be free. Feel emotions. Be angry when you’re angry, and be sad when you’re sad, and show it when you’re happy. Live in the moment of what you’re feeling. Love it.

Derringer Meryl [Do Not Seek Out Danger] Out

There are days, where you feel your lowest. To strictly contrast that, you have days where you feel your highest…. Most people don’t have those in the same day.

I do.

You can call it what you want. Bi Polar, Depression, Chemical Imbalance…. whatever you want…. i call it life. I don’t think it’s right to just muddle through, but I’ve been down the paths that the world seems to scream as useful and at one point in my life, i swore by them– but now, things have changed. *frowns* I’m not sad and depressed because of a chemical problem– i’m sad and depressed because of who I am.

I can’t get a good guy. Now before I piss off those of you whom i’ve dated before, let me continue. I can’t get a good guy TO STAY. and it keeps repeating in my mind, i’m not good enough… and that all of my relationship problems come from me. ME. I do it. I break things, and i make them bad. I do it. ME ME ME! Don’t try and tell me that’s not true. I don’t want words. I dont’ need your words. I miss a simpler time when i didn’t feel.

and I miss it. I miss being dead inside. I miss not living. I miss not caring about people…. and I miss not loving. I wish i could wish it away.

I wish I could not hear people. I wish their words didn’t sting and ring so true in my ears. and i wish that i could see what makes me so completely undesirable to the male sex.

Every guy says he wants a girl like me, interested in the things they’re interested in, but– they never…. I’m too much like a sister or a best friend…

Or there isn’t any attraction there anyway.

Say the truth. Say what burns. Say what you mean… Tell me i’m ugly tell me that i’m the fattest thing you’ve ever seen– i just want to know.

It’s insane.

i feel like my brain is fallin out of my ears and i’m not sure why I feel like sobbing– but I know i’m scary. I must be. Why would everyone run so? Am I that appallingly boring in personality that no one desires to speak to me?

Derringer Meryl [the answer is yes] Out

Isn’t it fun? Being horrible to yourself. Driving yourself a little deeper into the floor, tasting dirt in your mouth–

knowing you don’t deserve any better. It’s just… interesting.

I went to Church today, and it seemed like every word stabbed a little deeper, telling me that I was going to hell. No one said it. Honestly, most of it was about redemption from sin, but I can’t believe how it only made me feel worse.

And i was thinking, how i regard myself as broken. Not quite right– a little off kilter– basically just– *sighs* Broken. and — how I could fix it if I just let God take me and guide me…

I guess i’m so used to being broken, being any other way doesn’t seem quite right.

Maybe i’m sinking into another bout of depression, as i’m bound to… and it would make sense, since i have no control over my life, or anything in it…. Not what I do, or what I wear, or who I talk to. What I say. And I can’t say what is inhibiting me. My dad, my religion, myself. I think it’s mostly the last one, that i’m too scared to do something against what everyone expects. I’m too scared to say that i don’t want to go to college, and that I don’t want to wear these clothes that are pretty, and that I want to go hang out with Gert, on a Sunday– Of all days. And i’m at war with myself, because I don’t know if I do really want these things because I want them, or because I can’t have them– because someone told me no.

There was no choice. There was a decision, but there was no choice. It was like a judgment, that was made for me. I want to follow the precepts of the gospel– I want to be faithful daughter of God…. I don’t want to do it by my father’s rules. And it feels like I’m a dainty flower in the Arizona sun– and i’m not sure if i’m going to survive living here. Not sure if i’m going to be okay–

I just know i need out. I need to be out. And i don’t know if it makes sense, but — I’d like to do something wrong, so i can start doing things right…. for myself. I can’t do that here. I can’t do that with my father looking on.

*sighs*

Good, Better Than Ezra

Looking around the house.

Hidden behind the window and the door.

Searching for signs of life but there’s nobody home.

Well, maybe I’m just too sure.

Maybe I’m just too frightened

By the sound of it.

Pieces of note fall down, but the letter said,

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

Sitting around the house,

Watching the sun trace shadows on the floor.

Searching for signs of life, but there’s nobody home.

Well, maybe I’ll call

Or write you a letter.

Now, maybe we’ll see on the Fourth of July.

But I’m not too sure, and I’m not too proud.

Well, I’m not too sure and I’m not too proud to say.

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

Aha, it was good living with you.

Aha, it was good.

{spoken:}

Yeah, you were so good. yeah you were so good, yeah that’s right…

Derringer Meryl [Pondering] Out

Have you ever been so exhausted that you simply cannot sleep? I know Sarah McLaughlin and Marco have, Hence the writing at One in the morning. 🙂

Heh.

I guess i’m holding out some kind of wicked hope that Monkey might get online. Sleeping isn’t really sleeping unless you know everyone is alright. *blinks*

I couldn’t sound MORE like a psychotic wench could I? I’m odd and I’m wrong, but talking to him relaxes me. He reminds me that not everything in life needs to be stress filled. I can talk to him and honestly not worry about one thing I say. He’d just laugh it off anyway–

I find this trait to be slightly annoying– and slightly endearing… I’ve also found it something I can’t sleep without. I get these panic attacks before i go to sleep– and my brain keeps screaming threats and obscenities at me, and that i’m useless and that i’m stupid, that i’m going to fail my math class by some kind of default, and that i’m lame, I’m fat, I’m ugly, and I can’t seem to fight it, but Monkey seems to chase my brain away, allowing me to sleep without the panic induced coughing and the nightmares.

Those are what I hate the most. The nightmares.

night·mare – n.

1. A dream arousing feelings of intense fear, horror, and distress.

2. An event or experience that is intensely distressing.

3. A demon or spirit once thought to plague sleeping people. we’re looking into the first one there.

I don’t know how to describe them… and it’s sort of wrong that i still have them, considering the fact that i’m almost ninteen. i’m a sissy. I have no way of controlling my brain, and especially not my subconscious which attacks me all the time anyway. And I have no way of explaining why Monkey makes all the bad things go away.

All I can say is that it’s addictive. Sleeping. Sleeping well. Something that a sleep deprived person clings to. *meeps* So sorry there Monkey. I’m sure (if you’re even reading this) you find this irreversibly weird. *Shrugs* I gotta say what i gotta say, and maybe by saying it, i can make it go away, or figure it out. I have to admit, i’ve lost all the ‘ooey gooey’ feelings for Monkey now. I care for him, he’s my friend, and i’ve found he can solve my insomnia.

On a completely different note….

All my life, i’ve been wanting something. To fill this space I have inside of me, and empty emotional void. I guess I was born with it. Who knows. Sometimes my mom says I must have One dandy of a husband waiting to make me feel complete like that.

So my entire life, i’ve been wanting to get married. Despite the fact that i’ve grown up surrounded by what i’d call unsuccessful marriages, i still want it. I think about it. I know what kind of wedding dress I want and where i want my reception to be, and I know i don’t want anyone i (or my future husband) don’t know personally to be invited. I know that it scares me. I know that the divorce rate is too high for my liking, and that i positively absolutely cannot enter into marriage even THINKING that divorce is an option (for simple problems, not complex such as abuse or infidelity) and i know that after wishing and hoping and dreaming my entire life— i’m tired of waiting.

Because after all of that, i’ve dreamed myself into some kind of anti-social place where i talk to no one who doesn’t talk to me. I’m scared, and i’m tired, and I can’t sleep– because i ahven’t talked to the one of the two people (near by) that i consider to be my best friend. I’m so tired of being chased by men with faces i cannot see in my dreams at night.

I”m so tired of not being able to sleep.

Derringer Meryl [I’m so tired but I can’t sleep] Out