Note to self: just stop it, okay?

I think I’m having a freakout moment.

I got a pretty awesome compliment a couple days ago, and I’m trying to damp down my reaction to it. Not succeeding in that.

God, I’m not a teenager, or some compliment-hungry person. I’m a big girl.

I’m not supposed to be trying to dismantle my reactions and trying to make sense of them. Why can’t I just take the good feelings and run with them?

I have no idea how to just let things lie, that’s why. I always have to pick things up and shake them.

Note to self: not every reaction needs to be picked apart! Dear God, can’t you let good feelings be?


Samhain and semantics

Samhain is my favorite holiday. I mean, really and truly. I had to be the only kid I knew who rated it (though I called it Halloween when I was a kid) above Christmas.

So it really grates on my nerves to hear the usual stuff that gets spouted off this time of year.  The admonishments to keep your cats (especially black ones) inside, the scare tactics, the crappy “real histories” of the holiday that some Christian stations bat around.

The thing that really gets me is the effort that some churches are going to in order to “take back” the holiday. The Bestower of Righteous Silliness and her family are members of a church that’s advertising that.

BoRS’s church has “Harvest Celebration”s every year. I went to one a couple years ago, and yeah, it was the same stuff we used to do for the holiday as kids: dress up in costumes and nab ten times our weight in sugary goodness, except it was on the church grounds.

After blinking at the huge banner that proclaimed it was a “Harvest Celebration” and observing the usual trick-or-treat madness going on around me, I asked BoRS why they changed the name.

“Because we want to show people that this has nothing to do with that evil devil holiday,” was her answer.

Oh, really? Kids and grown-ups are dressed up in costumes, there are little stations all around the church parking lot, and at each station the kids say “Trick or treat!” and present their bags to be filled with said pounds of sugary goodness. But what I’m seeing has nothing to do whatsoever with the holiday that you say is an evil devil day?

Right. Please tell me what the difference is, as I see none.

Is the difference that it’s on the church grounds, and so none of those “devil” influences can possibly sneak up and grab the unsuspecting party-goers as they get candy? Granted, it’s safer than going door-to-door to get the candy (though that was part of the fun for me when I was a kid). If that’s the reason, then say so. But why go through the craziness of a name change?

I’m not even going to touch the craziness of the statement that Samhain is evil and has to do with the devil, except to say this: it’s not and it doesn’t. Do some research.

If you want to protect the kids and yourselves from the day’s “evil influences”, why are you celebrating the day, anyway? That makes no sense to me. The day is so bad and evil, but you’re having the celebration of the bad, evil day on your holy ground!

Rant over. We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

Around and around we go; where we stop nobody knows

I feel off today.

I don’t feel sad, but I’m sitting here crying. Just rivers of tears. I feel like a fool. I don’t know quite what I am feeling, but whatever it is, crying is not the way to handle it. Crying has never helped me do anything, and it’s stupid to be doing it for something I can’t even point to.

I’m never free of the roller coaster. It makes me feel like a baby, every time I end up taking a ride. It’s not like my life is just so unbearable. It is what it is, and it’s my job to deal with it.

Maybe this is the first sign that I’m losing it. Isn’t one of the first signals of mental breakdown uncontrollable crying fits? It just won’t stop. I can’t talk myself out of it.

Maybe I’m hysterical. Someone slap me.

To be or not to be (a sponge)

I spent Monday out. I wanted to just not be at home, so I got up early and left. It was great to be out among people who didn’t expect me to do things for them.

Or so I thought.

As I tooled about, I began noticing this feeling building inside me. I want to call it lust, but is it possible to have lust for people in general?

I just wanted these people. I know how creepy it sounds, but it’s the only way I can describe it. It’s like I wanted to open myself up and take them in. I was just there, sucking them up.

Again, it sounds creepy, I know it. It feels creepy. I’m frightened at the depth and intensity of this feeling. I don’t think there’s anything in my experience that can accurately describe how it feels.

I have to wonder what’s the matter with me. I can’t just go around wanting to roll all over the world like a cat does. I’m a rational adult. And this feeling is not rational.

To be perfectly honest, I’m afraid to be out with people as long as this is surging around. I won’t do anything silly, but still.

Growing men and other kinds of creatures

The Lord of Lassitude proposed to his girlfriend today, and the Keeper of the Holograms is over the moon about it.

Me? Well, I pity the girl. Baby or not, the Lord of Lassitude is not prime husband material. But I did the proper thing and congratulated them and wished them luck and happiness.

But I didn’t come here to kvetch about my brother’s fitness for marriage. What I came here to talk about is the conversation KotH and I had about it after we were told he had done it.

I love script format. 🙂

Me: I hope he thought about it before he decided to do it.

KotH: He needs to be married. It takes a woman to make a man.

Me: ‘Make a man’? Please. You can’t “make” grown people. LoL can make himself, if he wants to. She can’t “make” him anything.

KotH:  [LoL’s fiancee] can give him a reason to do things.

Me: He’s got two kids and one on the way! What more “reason” does he need to do anything? If he wanted to be different, he’d be different, fiancee or not.

KotH: Why are you being so negative? He has to start somewhere!

Me: I hope [LoL’s fiancee] knows what she’s getting into.

KotH: It takes work to grow a man, yes.

Me: I’m not interested in growing some man like I’d grow a houseplant. If he wants to get grown, why can’t he do it himself? I have my hands full trying to grow myself. The only people you have to worry about growing are yourself and children, not other adults. You grow relationships, not adults.

And scene.

My mom…I don’t know. It’s like she has blinders on. I know she wants to believe that my brother can become different, but she thinks that an outside force–namely a soon-to-be wife–can make him. He can be different if he wanted to be–kids and fiancee or not. He is the only one who can decide to be different.

That’s all, folks.

I am become a stranger

Doctors and therapists say that it’s good to feel your feelings, that feeling them is the mark of a healthy individual.  I don’t know about that.

I certainly don’t feel healthy right now. My skin feels like it will open up and devour things at the slightest touch. My emotions are churning around inside me. I want to cry or laugh or scream or something, all at once. I feel as though my body and emotions belong to someone else, a stranger.

I’m watching this happen and I feel ashamed. What’s happened to my controlled self and who is this person that’s here now? Why can’t I grab hold of this thing and wrestle it down to a manageable level?

I have become a stranger to myself. I don’t know these feelings, I don’t know if I like them. I don’t know what’s happening here.

My relationship with touch

I got this exercise from

My relationship with touch has always been a somewhat love/hate one. I don’t mind touching or being touched–as long as I can decide when and who I want to touch or have touch me.  I didn’t get this choice when I was a child.

In my family, touch is mandated, not an option. When we’d go to family get-togethers, it was expected that we hug every adult present. If we didn’t, we’d be yelled at and exhorted to hug and touch (“Go over there and hug your auntie! Don’t you love her?”).

I hated this, because I felt like my choice wasn’t being respected. There were times I would rather not have touched anyone; there were people I didn’t particularly want to touch or have touch me. When I expressed this, I was told that I was abnormal or weird or antisocial, since my family are very (surface-wise, at least) touchy people.

As I got older, touch become a way to control my personal space. I decide how close to get to a person; I decide if I want to touch them, to include them in my personal space.

But now, with this breaking open of my feelings, I see that I was wrong to do that.  Now, I don’t touch anyone, no matter if I want or need to. I’m terrified to touch anybody.

As far as what the doctors call psychological touch (acceptance, acknowledgement, approbation, etc.)…well, that’s something I never really got much of, unless I was following the Life Script ™.

I try to give my nieces and nephew both types of touch. I hug them, give them cuddles. Most importantly (to me, at least), I don’t press them to hug me if they don’t want to.  I want them to know that they can control their bodies, their personal space. If they don’t want to be touched, I leave them alone, and tell them that it’s okay to not want to hug sometimes.

I just wish I could find a way to bridge the way I touch the kids to touching adults.