This blog often contains uncomfortable subject matter and occasional sexual content. If you don't want to read about it, empower yourself to close the page. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ear twitch For the past week or so, I've been hearing a thumping noise inside my right ear. It feels like a muscle twitch, similar to an eyelid flutter. It doesn't hurt, but my ear feels a little clogged, I guess. At first it would come and go, and it didn't have a set rhythm. It sounded like muffled drumming. But now it's constant, probably four beats per second. It is fucking maddening and I wish I could afford to see a doctor right now. This weekend's been boring, depressing. I haven't wanted to do much else than sleep or loaf around. This morning I woke up at 10:30, fed the cats so they wouldn't scratch the door all goddamned day, and went back to bed until 12:40. I felt guilty for sleeping the day away, but it's not like I had anything better to do. My family didn't get together like we usually do on Sundays, because my grandparents are on some trip. And BK was still in Nebraska until 3:00. I hate being so boring and afraid to live. I hate that BK is the only friend I have, because it leaves me feeling resentful when he's out doing things with other people. He had a show Saturday in Nebraska so they drove up there and stayed overnight. So when he got home after 3:00 this afternoon, he informed me that he was going to watch MP do his standup act tonight. I was, as always, invited to come along, but goddamn it, why do I have to be dragged along to every social event that he goes to just to spend some time with him? I hate feeling like he owes me more quality time, because that really isn't fair to him. It's not his fault I have no life. I could get back in touch with JR (Need to remind myself she's gotten married and is no longer JS), I guess. I'm still really afraid to try to be friends with her again. Or with anyone, for that matter. I could get back in touch with AF too, but we were never really friends in the first place, just room mates. Not that he wouldn't have been open to it. I was just too intimidated by him to ever allow him to get close to me, and he didn't push it. I heard he and AM broke up, and I still haven't contacted him to tell him whatever you're supposed to tell a friend who's just ended a six year relationship, and an engagement, at that. I don't know if he'd even want to hear it from me, after so long without contact. Fuck, I could get back in touch with KH. But she lives all the way out in Missouri, and can't get out to see me too often. I know she'd like to hear from me, but I don't know how comfortable I ever felt around her. We didn't talk about anything. We just went out to bars, or movies, or malls, to see what we could see. We kept it superficial. We only really talked about what was really on our minds a few times. She told me once that she'd been crying at night, but she didn't say why. She told me she got back in touch with her mom, who had left when she was only four years old, but she didn't say how she was feeling about it. She doesn't talk about things like that, and I never pushed it. Maybe if I made the first move with these people, maybe if I really opened up to them for the first time in years, they'd open up to me too. Then again, maybe I'd just push them away. 11:56 p.m. - 2010-05-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Moving, relationships, and therapy My neighbor is apparently having a party, despite the rule in the lease that says we're only allowed two guests at a time. I am so ready to move out of this place next month. Actually, no I'm not. Stuff's gotten weird. I was supposed to move into a house with BK and his band. It was going to be a four bedroom house with me and BK in one room, the guitarist and his girlfriend in another room, and the bassist and pianist/singer each in their own rooms. They wanted to only have four people on the lease and the other two would be living with us illegally. I wasn't comfortable with lying to the landlord, but I was willing to do it anyway, because I was actually starting to look forward to living with these guys. But the plans kept changing, and I had no say in the matter. First BK came home saying that the guy who does their poster and album art might move in? But they weren't even sure if he was going to move to town yet, let alone into the band house. So I didn't even know how many bedrooms we were looking for, and I wasn't happy about an extra person being added to the arrangement. Then they said that had just been a pipe dream, and we were back to the four bedroom idea. Then suddenly, the bassist's girlfriend is added to the mix, and possibly the art guy again, and maybe even the pianist/singer's boyfriend? And meanwhile the guitarist and his girlfriend were giving me and BK shit about not helping with the search for houses. How am I supposed to look for a house when I don't even know how many fucking bedrooms we need?! I was not at all comfortable with trying to cram seven to nine people into a four or five bedroom house, especially with only four or five people on the lease. They check on that kind of stuff. They count how many cars are parked in front of the property. So I told BK that I wasn't moving in, and everyone ended up being okay with it. He was originally pretty pissed off about the way the guitarist and his girlfriend were giving us shit about the house search, and was talking about just moving in with me. But then the next day, he changed his mind. Now I have less than a month to decide whether or not to find a one-bedroom and live alone, or find a room mate. If I live alone, I can decorate how I want. Nobody can give me shit about my cats, or how messy I keep the place. I won't have to deal with squabbles over washing the dishes or sharing a bathroom. But I'd be lonely, and with the way I've been feeling for the past year or so, I don't think I can count on myself to make the effort to go out and socialize. And the rent would be a lot higher. If I quit my full-time office drone job (which I desperately want to do), I'd have to work two part time jobs. If I get a room mate, my rent will be cheaper, and I can probably get away with working less hours for less pay, as long as I live frugally. That means I can quit my typing job, and let my wrists heal, and finally start crocheting again. I could have extra income from selling my projects and patterns online, even. But I'd most likely be moving into an apartment that someone else has already been living in, so it'll already be furnished and decorated with their own stuff, with no room (and likely no tolerance) for mine. They might not be okay with me or BK smoking pot in the apartment (or even being at home while high). I'll have to keep quiet during sex. And the last time I had room mates (BK doesn't count), I felt like I couldn't be myself in my own home. In fact, I felt like it wasn't my home. I felt like a guest the whole time. I didn't feel comfortable being out in the living room for extended periods of time, I worried that my room mates would accuse me of hogging the TV, video games or stereo. I didn't feel comfortable asking me room mates to quiet down, or turn down their music. I hated when ES brought home friends without warning me first, but I didn't feel comfortable confronting her about it. Room mates eat your food, they fill up the sink with dirty dishes and don't clean them up, they hog the bathroom in the morning when you're trying to get ready. At this point, I'm leaning towards finding a one-bedroom. Living alone is going to be weird. Hell, just living without BK is going to be weird. I'm worried that I'll hardly ever see him. He doesn't have transportation, so it's not like he can come over without having to find a ride. He spends a lot of time with his band. I only really get to see him during his down time, when they don't need him for practice or performances or "band meetings". I'm going to miss coming home to see him during my lunch breaks, and I'm going to hate sleeping alone every night. I'm worried that I can't handle such a drastic change, that I won't get to spend enough time with him and that we will eventually break up. Fuck, maybe that'd be good for me in the long run. I've had a lot of doubts about BK for a long time now. I can't always identify why. Yeah, I feel resentful about paying his rent for so long, especially since he's finally looking for jobs now, but instead of helping me pay my rent, he's going to move in with his band. I feel resentful about feeling like I have to compete with his band for his time, and usually feeling like I've lost the competition. I'm getting pretty sick of him sitting at home all day with no job, and still not doing any chores. But there's more to it than just that. I feel like there is something I've been holding back, something I haven't been saying, but I don't know what it is. I feel like a large part of me is going unacknowledged, both by BK and by me, but I can't identify what it is. For months, I have felt dissatisfied in this relationship more often than I've felt content. But I don't know why. I think about breaking up with him every time this dissatisfaction surfaces. I get really depressed, confused and scared when I consider breaking up. If I get like that at work, I can't function. I can't concentrate, I make countless mistakes, I hold back tears at my desk, cry in the bathroom, I even move slower. I come home and have a hard time telling BK I love him, even though I still do. I want him to hold me, but have a hard time kissing him because I feel like I'm "faking it". When I think of leaving BK, I can't help but imagine what life would be like without him. If we were to break up, I can't picture myself functioning at work. I can't picture myself doing anything other than hyperventilating and sobbing, for hours on end. I can't imagine feeling anything other than a desperate, devastating pain, the kind of pain you can't even really put into words. Thoughts of breaking up with BK are always immediately followed by thoughts of suicide. I get really confused because I do love him very much, but I'm just not happy in this relationship right now, and I want desperately to understand why. I've started therapy again, so I'm hoping that will help. I like this therapist. She doesn't ask leading questions. That was what I didn't like about AO and IT, when they asked questions it always felt more like an accusation or veiled criticism. She seems to understand that I'm not always able to come up with immediate responses to her questions, that I need time to reflect. I feel like I'm right on the edge of a breakthrough or something, I just need some help. I'm hoping she can give me the push that I need. I really need for this to work. 9:43 p.m. - 2010-05-15 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A weird dream I had a dream the other night. I don't remember what it was about, and I don't remember who was in it except for of course myself. All I can remember is a few seconds, where I desperately scrawled something on paper, something along the lines of "Have hard time to find words to express." I don't remember the exact words I used. But the sentence was written in broken English. I remember a feeling of extreme confusion. There was a sense of desperation, something I needed to say but couldn't because the words wouldn't come out, so I tried to write it instead. I wish I could remember the rest of the dream. It seemed profound. A lot of my dreams have been that way lately. I feel like my subconscious is trying to wake me up, but something keeps getting in the way. 7:58 p.m. - 2010-04-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ashamed of feeling proud I just realized that I accidentally added a fifth entry to my last page as opposed to my usual four entry limit. Oops. I don't care enough to go back and correct it. I just wanted to make a quick post to record a sort of mini-breakthrough that I had yesterday. I was in the car, singing along to Fiona Apple (why did I not listen to her back in the day?!) and doing a pretty good job at it, too. I have pretty much the same alto range as her. I have gotten pretty good at singing "Criminal" and "Sleep to Dream" and was feeling proud of myself, when suddenly my voice got weaker. What I realized yesterday, is that I feel ashamed anytime I catch myself feeling proud of my singing. Meaning I guess that I'm ashamed of my pride? I've been trying to put this into words for months and haven't been able to do so, and all the time it was so simple! I'm not really sure where this started. I remember the time when I was really little and sang Old MacDonald, and put some vibrato on the end of the E-I-E-I-O, and my mom teased me. But it has to be bigger than that. There has to be something worse that's happened, or maybe a collection of similar occurrences over time. I know my mom used to use the word "conceited" to describe people who thought they were smart, or talented, or attractive. I don't remember her ever calling me or my sisters conceited, I just know that at a young age I learned that mom thinks it's bad to think too highly of yourself. Anyway, just wanted to document this, because I'm proud of finally being able to understand why I have never been able to sing in front of people, even though I know I'm a decent singer. 7:33 p.m. - 2010-03-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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