The Foolish Heart Versus The Tortured Mind
I'm trying to make this blog a little less about my mental state. It's been great therapy, but I kind of want to see what will happen if I stop the therapy and just concentrate on other stuff. Add more mystery to my life. See how far I can push things. You see, the stuff I've written about on here has really come back to haunt me.
When you lay stuff out on the line, you invite criticism. You have to expect to deal with people who read things into your work that isn't there. You hurt people's fragile feelings. If you don't get all apologetic or react the way they think you should, you become an asshole. Really, I don't care if people think I'm an asshole (then don't bother with me). That's not why I'm trying to change the focus. It's because ... well, I don't want to get into all the details. Let's just look at my week.
My daughter's first day of school. Playing phone tag with the Eureka Police Department. Applying for new jobs. Going through the house getting rid of stuff I don't want to pack and finding things left behind that apparently have no meaning anymore. Getting into a huge fight with a dear friend, apologizing, and realizing I messed things up beyond belief. Being isolated from another friend -- and that kills me even worse than I thought it would (be brave, moon, be brave). Almost being killed by some cunt on her cell phone while she "drove" her car. (Hope you get cancer.) Pushing forward plans to get a little evil with a person I should not get evil with.
All of this stuff played out in my little world, and at some point I just sat back, examined it and said, "Disconnect." So I did.
Best quote this week? "Every once in a while I get a glimpse of who you really are. I don't know whether to be scared or wet." That was funny. My response. "Probably best if you're a little of both." Totally inappropriate given the person and situation, but so worth saying. Never miss those little opportunities.
I'm sure the personal will creep in. I want to try to contain it as much as possible, though. I want to bottle it up because letting it out hasn't worked. The only problem I can see, though, is that I'll be even more miserable now (at least on those days when I don't get to see my daughter -- who I had a great talk with this weekend).
I really miss myself sometimes.
The cork goes on ... now.