Undone

general ramblings abound.

First, i got a car. I’ve decided to name it Vash (after Vash in Trigun, which is where my SN comes from too) He’s a good little car, and while he broke last night, I dn’t blame him, i blame the freaking construction on I-15, Which knocked his radiator drain plug out, and made him loose all of his radiator fluid.

Nice eh?

Luckily Scott’s friend is a whiz with cars and came and rescued us! YAY FOR THE KINDNESS OF FRIENDS! Two other nice people helped us by lending their phones and pushing our tiny Vash to the side. Thank you nice peoples!

On another completely different note I’d like to delve into examining why I hate therapists so much.

Because you can do their entire profession with seemingly a “Choose your own adventure book” They never ask good probing questions. And it’s always “Why” and a bunch of head bobbing. Only a few of my problems were worked out at therapy, and honestly that was how easy I was walked on by people. Now i”m not so much. I’m glad that’s fixed, but honestly, Scott is so much better when it comes to working past psychological problems out.

I had a problem. An issue. Something I was holding on to. I couldn’t understand why. Scott told me That I wanted to keep it for some reason. Wanted to keep feeling the pain and the fear that I felt then, over and over again. He didn’t let me just go to bed when I got tired. He didn’t say “Oh, our hour is up, it’s time for you to go” Sure, he asked WHY, but when I said “I don’t know” he wouldn’t let that fly. He pressed me, that YES, I did know. I sat there and thought about it. I thought about it a lot. Finally, after such a long time of feeling this– pain and hurt, betrayal…

I realized, that I love to be angry. I loved to be angry about it. I loved feeling the pain and blaming someone. I enjoyed being angry at people, being upset that things were never resolved in my mind. I felt powerful. I felt in control.

And suddenly, I felt was disgusted with that mentality. (Over time I’ve come to realize that I have a lot of disgusting mental thoughts) I was sickened by that part of me. But I felt better knowing it was there, understanding more completely, so I could finally let go.

Maybe some people out there have a therapist like that. Maybe they have someone who pushes them to discover themselves. Good. I’m glad. Because when I had a therapist, I felt like i was hiring a proverbial hooker. Paying for a whore. Someone to listen to me for an hour, just ramble. Not about anything in particular. I’d sit down on the soft couch, and she’d say “How are things” and I’d start off, and she’d try and recall the characters from my life. I found it disgusting. I felt like it was a waste of money… and the tip off came after she told me to loose a friend. Just stop being their friend because of my feelings and my emotions and my problems.

And that’s the day i said no more. I didn’t schedule a new appointment. I tapered off my medication– and I was done.

Derringer Meryl [I don’t want to go back] Out

these are a few of my favorite things…..

Not anything warm and fuzzy, like Julie Andrews would say…. My favorite things are Fanfictions, friends, friends who review, reviews… Okay, my brain extends beyond that. I’m excited about my psychology class, and i wonder if i’m going to write papers for it. It makes me kind of excited *nods enthusiastically* I’m possibly the only person in the world who you’ll find being excited about writing psychology papers.

Of course, you’d be excited too if you had me analyze what type of automobile says about your life, almost any aspect of it. i’m so odd and obsessed with the stupidest things…..

Like the male mind. Being a girl myself, one cannot help but ponder what goes on inside their brain. I mean, I know how my brain works, slightly…. and i know that all brains are not the same…. and all that rubbish i’m always promoting…. but i want to know…. why guys do what they do. Girls are attracted to color and emotion…. boys… god I don’t know what attracts them other than breasts. Honest. I’m not trying to be gross, just honest.

that’s an annoyance to me. I’ve said it before, i find it slightly flattering when a guy checks me out, i mean the once over, and it’s appreciated. I do not enjoy leers towards my chest. I mean, it’s fleshy stuff, just like your legs, or your stomach. *shrugs* I really don’t see what the big deal is. What i absolutely loathe though is having them talked to. I mean having a guy (as i haven’t run into many girls around here who have done it to me….) talking to me, but looking at my boobs. The animeboi here (i like to call him Miroku in private circles) does it, Monkey does it, though i have a feeling it’s just because … they’re there. Ihaven’t caught the Mouth or Gert doing it to me, but i’ve noticed some guys are more tricky about it. Like they notice if you’re noticing, and they keep it short…. which i don’t mind. If i don’t catch you, then it’s okay… My personal opinion.

I’m sure most of my readers (who are family…. Specialist and Dax) are blushing their brains out. I’ll move on.

I’ve increased my AMV collection by a few more videos. It gives me a thrill to watch them, and i have to admit,one of my favorite things.

Julie also includes things she doesn’t like, and i’m telling you what i don’t like. Being mistaken for a thirty-year old woman with kids Yeah. I have no kids. Hell, I’m not thirty. I’m eighteen. EIGHTEEN. Nothing great. I’m a few years away from any of that stuff people think of when they see me. I’m not delicate, or lanky, or wan, or twiggy. I look like i’ve pushed out a kid or two (isn’t that sad?) It’s just the way i look. *grumbles* yeah, I look like i should go anorexic for a little while… somehow i don’t…. mostly because i know it wouldn’t help anything… besides the fact it’s completely unhealthy… i know i’ve gained weight since i stopped my medication.

damn medication. I’m allowed to say that… i’ve decided. It ruined my high school experience, it’s given me permanent (as far as i can tell) shakes, and i’ve gained weight….. Yeah, that pretty much allows for the damnation of an inanimate object.

Sometimes i consider re-medicating myself again…. except that means going back to my therapist… and i don’t want to. She’s nice. I admit that…. but it feels like…. a friend whore. I pay her to listen to me…. and help me. that for some reason, disgusts me beyond all reason. I can’t explain it– but it makes me ill. Very ill. Besides, I’m not as sick as i was a few years ago, when i started.

I’m not sure the therapy helped. I went to group, everyone else had serious problems…. none of them i can disclose or anything… but… real deep problems, and i was the girl who’s first boyfriend abused her– and she was in therapy. I felt — odd. I felt, wrong. I couldn’t help but compare– Some of those girls had deep emotional scars…. and i was just abused verbally. I mean, yeah, I’m fat. SO what? That’s what he told me…. every day… in a million different ways. And God help me, i loved him anyway. I loved him so much, i didn’t care about the pain–

until he was gone. Then I was angry… and i felt ugly. No, i didn’t feel ugly, i was ugly. I was disgusting, and vile. I knew it. He’d convinced me a million times that i was wrong…. that i was sick and the size of a barn…. and that he didn’t love me. He hit that one home quite nicely. and i gave him everything. I gave him my past, and the present, and if he had asked for it, my future. Not anymore though… I’m grateful for that.

I’m not as weak as I was before….

Yeah, but– those others…. wow. I felt stupid. Completely stupid sitting there as they told their stories. (You just heard mine) But it’s a problem i have… comparing. seeing who hurts the worst. I know i didn’t . I know that those girls needed to be there so much more than me.

I am broken– and no amount of talk can fix that. *shrugs* That’s just the way things are. I think I’m fine being broken. Being depressed sometimes…. feeling love, feeling pain, feeling everything. I’m fine with that. Feeling isn’t what makes me broken– the intensity is. I feel it, and i feel like i’m going to be washed away in the emotion. it’s crazy. And that’s what’s broken.

Me.

Derringer Meryl [My Favorite things] Out