I feel like the biggest hypocrite.
I say that solitude can be a good thing for people. I believe that it is; we learn the most about ourselves when there is nobody around except ourselves. I believe that you have to get to know yourself, to understand yourself before you can hope to understand someone else.
I say that, I believe that, but now I say that I feel lonely.
My mother’s voice says that I shouldn’t feel lonely; we’re born into this world alone, and we die alone too, even if we die with a group of others.
So go talk to somebody, go be with people, says somebody in the back, up there in the nosebleeds. I did that. It’s not people I’m lonely for, if that makes any sense. I live with a bunch of people; my life is saturated with people.
I have friends I could call, but what can I say to them: “Hey please talk to me about something that matters; I feel lonely.”? Nope, that’s just silly. My friends are all busy people with their own lives and worries. I won’t bother them with something so petty as loneliness.
Maybe it’ll pass. Maybe I can sleep on it, see how I feel in the morning. Yeah, maybe that will work. Goodnight all.
I think I just had a waking vision, or something.
I was in the shower just now, letting my mind wander, and suddenly I wasn’t there anymore. Well, I was there, but it was like being in a trance, where you can feel yourself sitting down or whatever, but be wherever you are too.
I was in a familiar place, so I wasn’t afraid to be there. I looked around to be sure it was the place I thought it was, and then sat down on a bench that appeared there.
It seemed like I waited there for a long time, but it couldn’t have been. Then he was there.
You’d think I’d be used to having people suddenly appear in my dreams/visions, but I’m still not. I squeaked a bit.
I got a bit of a talking to, and something else happened, but I’m not sure what that is since it got a bit blurry, and then I was back in the shower, with the hot water beating down on me. Couldn’t have been more than five minutes, all told, though it felt like longer than that.
Seems like everything happens to me while I’m in the shower. I get great ideas in there, I make plans in there. Now I’m having vision type things in there too.
I’ve spent the last week going up and down emotionally. Right now, I’m in the “down” portion of the program.
Something clicked into place for me last week, and I’ve spent the last days asking myself what it all means, and what exactly I’m supposed to do about it.
I feel like I’ve done something terribly wrong. I’m working on fixing that. All I’ve done is be who I am, but it feels like I’ve done something very bad.
The dreams I’ve had in the last few days are not helping me put this into some semblance of…something. I feel like a major idiot. I wish I could put all this back into the place it was stuffed, because it’s uncomfortable in the extreme to have to feel.
It feels wrong to feel this way, wrong to be this way. It doesn’t matter that it’s the only thing that fits when I look at it. I feel like this is bashing me over the head at every moment of the day. I want to run away from it and hide somewhere.
I guess I’m a coward and an idiot both.
Here I am, ladies and gents, back to put my early-morning ramblings up for all to see!
The item up for discussion today is the mental barn-burning I had a couple nights ago.
My mental library has shredders, and I’ve been busy shredding all sorts of useless or outdated ideas for the last little while. But instead of burning the shreds, I’ve been boxing them and keeping them (maybe because I thought I’d need them one day? Who knows). So a couple days back, I imagined all that mental trash in this huge shed. Maybe huge is an understatement; this “shed” had two levels and was stuffed with old ideas (which I imaged as pieces of shredded paper, if you can believe it; sometimes my brain is frightfully literal).
I’m standing in this huge space, and I’ve drenched the whole thing in kerosene. The smell of it is hanging in the air, strangely moist, unlike the smell of gasoline, which always smells kind of dry to me.
I’m suddenly outside the shed and I have a fireplace match in my hand. I toss it into the shed and I hear the paper go up with a floomp. I’m watching this tower of flame, and then I hear voices coming from the fire.
“You need us…” “What are you doing?…are you crazy?” “You’ll regret this…you’ll miss us…” “Put us out! Are you mad?!” “…we’ll be back…we’ll be back…we’ll be back…”
I know this was all in my own head, but it was eerie, I tell you.
Anyway, I watched the whole thing burn to the ground, then I dumped the ashes into an incinerator.
I’m worried that the old ideas are like crab grass though, and will be back soon.
Let’s make this short and sweet:
YOU CAN’T SAVE EVERYBODY. STOP TRYING, AND STOP FEELING LIKE YOU FAILED AT WHAT YOU TRIED TO DO.
You’ve got to let it go, girl. You aren’t responsible for other people’s feelings (other than making amends if you hurt somebody, but you didn’t hurt anybody in this case).
Grow a thicker skin, sweetheart. Some things aren’t worth your pity. Some things you can’t fix. It’s a huge time and energy waster. The lesson in this is to know when to fold ’em, like the song says.
Time to fold and leave the table.
The part of you who knows better