You are the love of my life.
And maybe I'll never be brave enough to tell you, but you are.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Sanity, Stupidity and Somewhere in Between.
[Retrospective Entry]
I can't sleep.
It's 0440 and I've been trying for a while. I can't sleep. Something abt work, warm and a touch of the crazy are keeping me awake tonight.
My psychologist lent me a book the other day. Funnily enough, it was the second one she lent me and perhaps the least useful of the two. It's abt narcissitic parents and their tormented spawn. It was initially alarming in its insight, frightening in its realism. It captured all the things I've felt and experienced growing up. It was therefore, horrifying and yet reassuring.
I didn't know crazy people had that much of an effect on their children (hello?!) and I certainly didn't realize how widespread said crazy is/was.
There was also a certain amount of liberation felt with each page turned, as I finally realized that I am not inherently evil, cruel or crazy.
I've stalled in my reading of the book, however, as if knowing of others is enough. I've lived so long in madness, after all. Why fix it now?
...
The psych is changing my life. Slowly, softly. She's changing my life where I was not capable of doing it myself, or knowing it were possible before.
Sometimes, I can even imagine living a few more years. Maybe even growing old.
...
I've been thinking abt buying a guitar.
This isn't a new thought process. I've thought abt buying one since being at St George's... I've just not actually done it. Partly, it was the money - a couple of hundred dollars thrown at something I probably would bury, and done on a student budget, was really inadvisable. If I wanted to eat that month, I'd prob also have to tell mother abt it. Double ouch. ...And partly, it was the problem of anonimity - hard to hide that you're learning (or torturing) the guitar when you're living in the dorms.
...But here I am years later and I'm not in the dorms, have a few bedrooms in which I can hide the guitar and neighbours who shouldn't be able to hear me and really shouldn't care. To top it off, I could afford the stupid thing now. It would be unpleasant to be a few hundred dollars short if I discover that all I'm really good at it bashing the thing... but i also wouldn't owe anyone an apology.
....
Hmmm
I can't sleep.
It's 0440 and I've been trying for a while. I can't sleep. Something abt work, warm and a touch of the crazy are keeping me awake tonight.
My psychologist lent me a book the other day. Funnily enough, it was the second one she lent me and perhaps the least useful of the two. It's abt narcissitic parents and their tormented spawn. It was initially alarming in its insight, frightening in its realism. It captured all the things I've felt and experienced growing up. It was therefore, horrifying and yet reassuring.
I didn't know crazy people had that much of an effect on their children (hello?!) and I certainly didn't realize how widespread said crazy is/was.
There was also a certain amount of liberation felt with each page turned, as I finally realized that I am not inherently evil, cruel or crazy.
I've stalled in my reading of the book, however, as if knowing of others is enough. I've lived so long in madness, after all. Why fix it now?
...
The psych is changing my life. Slowly, softly. She's changing my life where I was not capable of doing it myself, or knowing it were possible before.
Sometimes, I can even imagine living a few more years. Maybe even growing old.
...
I've been thinking abt buying a guitar.
This isn't a new thought process. I've thought abt buying one since being at St George's... I've just not actually done it. Partly, it was the money - a couple of hundred dollars thrown at something I probably would bury, and done on a student budget, was really inadvisable. If I wanted to eat that month, I'd prob also have to tell mother abt it. Double ouch. ...And partly, it was the problem of anonimity - hard to hide that you're learning (or torturing) the guitar when you're living in the dorms.
...But here I am years later and I'm not in the dorms, have a few bedrooms in which I can hide the guitar and neighbours who shouldn't be able to hear me and really shouldn't care. To top it off, I could afford the stupid thing now. It would be unpleasant to be a few hundred dollars short if I discover that all I'm really good at it bashing the thing... but i also wouldn't owe anyone an apology.
....
Hmmm
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