I know that in this blog I have not always been happy. Or perhaps, to be precise, I have always wanted to wallow in that essence of a black mood because it helped me recover myself and go back to living elsewhere. What you see is not what you get. You know that.
But this time I cannot seem to fathom what I have done wrong. Nor can I understand why I get so upset over what some people would take as an ordinary part of life. So there was a misunderstanding between me and someone else. So she's the second person in a month who has entirely stopped talking to me without even giving a reason why. So what?
I cannot understand -- I cannot begin to understand -- why I can get so agitated over just one simple person ignoring me -- as though the world has turned from azure-blue to grey and suddenly started falling all about my ears. And why do I have to see myself standing by the wreckage -- and standing, and standing, and staring -- and not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, I have hardly ever been so upset in my life and believe me that is saying something.
And that I feel as though the world has suddenly gone crazily out of my control -- I am over-sensitive, you say? Neurotic? Kicking too much of a fuss over nothing? -- But listen to this, wise guy: All my life I have based my actions, my feelings, my very existence on the fact that I am nice and kind to people and so they will always be my friends. Which is a flawed statement at best but this is what has formed my subconscious from an early age. I am terrified -- and I mean mortally terrified -- of any form of unkindness, of cruelty, of injustice. And somehow I feel -- and I realise that I have always felt -- that FORMING WORKABLE RELATIONSHIPS WITH PEOPLE IS ABOUT AS SAFE AS SWIMMING IN A SEA OF JELLYFISH. The minute I start feeling comfortable with a person -- just when I am happy and confident and my own person -- something always happens: minefields, booby traps, thumbtacks scattered underfoot. Do you blame me for hating people? Do you still blame me for hiding behind a computer screen and refusing action? Because the fact of life is this: people are always judging me, whether behind their smiles or their kindly words or whispering together in groups. Either that, or they love me and then leave me and I cannot tolerate loss any more than I can take change.
It is at times like this, really at times, that I start to see why people choose to shut themselves up in their own fantasies and dreamscapes, even going lunatic as a defense mechanism from the world. You may wonder why I am writing in such a style, full of analogy and metaphor and long, long sentences, separated carefully into paragraphs and punctuation marks. It is because right now my fingers are cold and I am shaking and somehow the two people I called will not take my calls and if I do not restrain myself through making my fingers and my mind dwell on each and every single word formed like this I am very very afraid that I WILL GO MAD I REALLY WILL GO MAD AND.
That one day I really will go mad.
But this time I cannot seem to fathom what I have done wrong. Nor can I understand why I get so upset over what some people would take as an ordinary part of life. So there was a misunderstanding between me and someone else. So she's the second person in a month who has entirely stopped talking to me without even giving a reason why. So what?
I cannot understand -- I cannot begin to understand -- why I can get so agitated over just one simple person ignoring me -- as though the world has turned from azure-blue to grey and suddenly started falling all about my ears. And why do I have to see myself standing by the wreckage -- and standing, and standing, and staring -- and not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, I have hardly ever been so upset in my life and believe me that is saying something.
And that I feel as though the world has suddenly gone crazily out of my control -- I am over-sensitive, you say? Neurotic? Kicking too much of a fuss over nothing? -- But listen to this, wise guy: All my life I have based my actions, my feelings, my very existence on the fact that I am nice and kind to people and so they will always be my friends. Which is a flawed statement at best but this is what has formed my subconscious from an early age. I am terrified -- and I mean mortally terrified -- of any form of unkindness, of cruelty, of injustice. And somehow I feel -- and I realise that I have always felt -- that FORMING WORKABLE RELATIONSHIPS WITH PEOPLE IS ABOUT AS SAFE AS SWIMMING IN A SEA OF JELLYFISH. The minute I start feeling comfortable with a person -- just when I am happy and confident and my own person -- something always happens: minefields, booby traps, thumbtacks scattered underfoot. Do you blame me for hating people? Do you still blame me for hiding behind a computer screen and refusing action? Because the fact of life is this: people are always judging me, whether behind their smiles or their kindly words or whispering together in groups. Either that, or they love me and then leave me and I cannot tolerate loss any more than I can take change.
It is at times like this, really at times, that I start to see why people choose to shut themselves up in their own fantasies and dreamscapes, even going lunatic as a defense mechanism from the world. You may wonder why I am writing in such a style, full of analogy and metaphor and long, long sentences, separated carefully into paragraphs and punctuation marks. It is because right now my fingers are cold and I am shaking and somehow the two people I called will not take my calls and if I do not restrain myself through making my fingers and my mind dwell on each and every single word formed like this I am very very afraid that I WILL GO MAD I REALLY WILL GO MAD AND.
That one day I really will go mad.
posted by Ling at
8:30 PM
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