Just words...
Feb. 25th, 2006 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoweeunpacking
I was just unpacking a box and remembering there is one thing I like about unpacking. It's when you open a box and find something you'd completely forgotten. This time it was a stash of pictures, postcards, a couple poems and letters from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cel_shell. It felt really good to look through them, read them, think of the way we used to talk. Makes me a little sad we don't so much now... but we both have so many other things going on. {sigh}
spammers
Please stop sending porny spam. I feel like you're teasing me. Just the lame ass spam is making me ache.
writing
Started a new "book" last week. I'm excited, but can seem to find time to write it! If I don't email you for a few days, it's probably because I've bypassed you for writing. Sorry, I love you, but I gotta do what I gotta do.
Of course, as I'm sure we all do, I sometimes wonder what's the point? I feel like I'm going in circles, going nowhere, not ever getting to the point where I feel like I'm ready to share these even though in a lot of ways I feel they are much better than the garbage I've got sitting on a webpage. Why would I rather share the work I feel is half-assed than the stuff where I really feel like I'm putting my... soul... into it... oh. I think I just got it. Vulnerability. I hate that. I hate letting vulnerability get the best of me...
commitment/relationship
wtf was I thinking when I got married? I knew back then that I couldn't commit to a college, let alone a spouse. I didn't want to get married because of all the shite that goes with it.
I know some people will understand that bit of it, but I don't expect anyone to understand the mountains of garbage going on inside of me right now. Every time I try to explore something which is unsettled in my brain, it goes back to this damned marriage and the responsibility to my child and I know it's selfish & immature to desire no responsibility, but it's not the responsibility itself - it's... it's something else, it's so many other things.
I'm trapped and I want... not something else, not something different, just... a change for a while? - but I'm married to a man who fears change so much that I can't continue imagining him being along for the journey. How did this happen? He seemed so open and adventurous and I guess I thought someday he would grow up, but he can't and he won't and I'm starting to view him as dead weight which cannot possibly be healthy. I take that back. I didn't think he would grow up. I wasn't naive enough to think I could change him or that he would change. The problem is that I have changed. I didn't mean to, but I know at the time I felt like he and I were the same and now I feel like he's back there and I'm here and the gap has grown so wide that I'll fall a million miles if I try to jump back there.
Whining. Complaining. I really hate doing that, but it seems that's all that is in me anymore. I'm getting bitter. I'm getting bitchy. Reason I don't say anything is that I'd rather say nothing than make anyone listen to me. Little me? I'm so insignificant. What could I possibly say that is worth anything to anybody?
charity shop finds
Also in unpacking I turned up a stash of things I had been collecting from the charity shops... I had a wire planter, some wall sconces, candelabras... all of which when I picked them out I found them ugly, cheap, gold-paint chipped, or something similar and all of which I always said would look beautiful with a coat of black paint. I think the first piece was one I picked up about 6 years ago. HA HA. Well, I finally bought some cans of black spray and have been working on getting them all in shape. I'm probably a bit high from the fumes, but I do think they look awesome! They went from cheap and cheesy looking gold Victorian knock-offs to nice iron vaguely gothic era accent pieces. Makes me happy. (again, it could just be the fumes)
omg, I can't believe I'm going to say this: Don't judge or move on!
Aside from the fact that I love being home with my daughter (feels really odd to say since I hate kids in general) and other reasons that prevent me, I don't want to get a job. This has come up a lot lately, people pressuring me. Well, I'd never make as much money as hubby, first off. Second of all, I'm really only qualified for complete bullshit jobs and I've had it up to my nose in them. The last 3 I quit because it was making me suicidal. Anyway, pressure from people for no good reason. We're not broke. We haven't borrowed money in ages. One reason given is that I'm too smart to be a stay-at-home mom (which i may have mentioned here before) - a comment that REALLY pissed me off, you have NO idea how much unless it's been said to you. So, this pressure is there and I'm thinking, well a number of things. I am sure I sound stupid and lazy and 50s housewife and completely disgusting but there has become a bigger reason I don't want to get a job other than I want to focus on my writing and all that. It's that I know know that if I got a job and became more independent that I'd leave him. I would. This must be incredibly fucked up to keep myself dependent on him financially just so that I don't up and leave this family. I'm sure the psychological effects of this could be more damaging to a child than just leaving even though, as every parent does, I believe that I'm hiding it incredibly well.
And I have seen shows so much lately where there's someone fucked up and they ask for help and they get it and I sit there and cry because I know I need help. i need help so badly, but I can't ask for it and when it's offered all I can do is refuse it. Why can't I... why can't I... I don't know.
Fun. mini-breakdown right here on live journal. Fun reads for all.
{smirk} and just now my mind tunes in to the music scrambling through my itunes: Cherub Rock. Smashing Pumpkins. "Let me out. Let... let me out!!" What timing for that lyric.
I was just unpacking a box and remembering there is one thing I like about unpacking. It's when you open a box and find something you'd completely forgotten. This time it was a stash of pictures, postcards, a couple poems and letters from
cel_shell. It felt really good to look through them, read them, think of the way we used to talk. Makes me a little sad we don't so much now... but we both have so many other things going on. {sigh}spammers
Please stop sending porny spam. I feel like you're teasing me. Just the lame ass spam is making me ache.
writing
Started a new "book" last week. I'm excited, but can seem to find time to write it! If I don't email you for a few days, it's probably because I've bypassed you for writing. Sorry, I love you, but I gotta do what I gotta do.
Of course, as I'm sure we all do, I sometimes wonder what's the point? I feel like I'm going in circles, going nowhere, not ever getting to the point where I feel like I'm ready to share these even though in a lot of ways I feel they are much better than the garbage I've got sitting on a webpage. Why would I rather share the work I feel is half-assed than the stuff where I really feel like I'm putting my... soul... into it... oh. I think I just got it. Vulnerability. I hate that. I hate letting vulnerability get the best of me...
commitment/relationship
wtf was I thinking when I got married? I knew back then that I couldn't commit to a college, let alone a spouse. I didn't want to get married because of all the shite that goes with it.
I know some people will understand that bit of it, but I don't expect anyone to understand the mountains of garbage going on inside of me right now. Every time I try to explore something which is unsettled in my brain, it goes back to this damned marriage and the responsibility to my child and I know it's selfish & immature to desire no responsibility, but it's not the responsibility itself - it's... it's something else, it's so many other things.
I'm trapped and I want... not something else, not something different, just... a change for a while? - but I'm married to a man who fears change so much that I can't continue imagining him being along for the journey. How did this happen? He seemed so open and adventurous and I guess I thought someday he would grow up, but he can't and he won't and I'm starting to view him as dead weight which cannot possibly be healthy. I take that back. I didn't think he would grow up. I wasn't naive enough to think I could change him or that he would change. The problem is that I have changed. I didn't mean to, but I know at the time I felt like he and I were the same and now I feel like he's back there and I'm here and the gap has grown so wide that I'll fall a million miles if I try to jump back there.
Whining. Complaining. I really hate doing that, but it seems that's all that is in me anymore. I'm getting bitter. I'm getting bitchy. Reason I don't say anything is that I'd rather say nothing than make anyone listen to me. Little me? I'm so insignificant. What could I possibly say that is worth anything to anybody?
charity shop finds
Also in unpacking I turned up a stash of things I had been collecting from the charity shops... I had a wire planter, some wall sconces, candelabras... all of which when I picked them out I found them ugly, cheap, gold-paint chipped, or something similar and all of which I always said would look beautiful with a coat of black paint. I think the first piece was one I picked up about 6 years ago. HA HA. Well, I finally bought some cans of black spray and have been working on getting them all in shape. I'm probably a bit high from the fumes, but I do think they look awesome! They went from cheap and cheesy looking gold Victorian knock-offs to nice iron vaguely gothic era accent pieces. Makes me happy. (again, it could just be the fumes)
omg, I can't believe I'm going to say this: Don't judge or move on!
Aside from the fact that I love being home with my daughter (feels really odd to say since I hate kids in general) and other reasons that prevent me, I don't want to get a job. This has come up a lot lately, people pressuring me. Well, I'd never make as much money as hubby, first off. Second of all, I'm really only qualified for complete bullshit jobs and I've had it up to my nose in them. The last 3 I quit because it was making me suicidal. Anyway, pressure from people for no good reason. We're not broke. We haven't borrowed money in ages. One reason given is that I'm too smart to be a stay-at-home mom (which i may have mentioned here before) - a comment that REALLY pissed me off, you have NO idea how much unless it's been said to you. So, this pressure is there and I'm thinking, well a number of things. I am sure I sound stupid and lazy and 50s housewife and completely disgusting but there has become a bigger reason I don't want to get a job other than I want to focus on my writing and all that. It's that I know know that if I got a job and became more independent that I'd leave him. I would. This must be incredibly fucked up to keep myself dependent on him financially just so that I don't up and leave this family. I'm sure the psychological effects of this could be more damaging to a child than just leaving even though, as every parent does, I believe that I'm hiding it incredibly well.
And I have seen shows so much lately where there's someone fucked up and they ask for help and they get it and I sit there and cry because I know I need help. i need help so badly, but I can't ask for it and when it's offered all I can do is refuse it. Why can't I... why can't I... I don't know.
Fun. mini-breakdown right here on live journal. Fun reads for all.
{smirk} and just now my mind tunes in to the music scrambling through my itunes: Cherub Rock. Smashing Pumpkins. "Let me out. Let... let me out!!" What timing for that lyric.
