So I haven't been blogging lately. Have you noticed?
The last time I decided to shut this site down, I got inspired again and wrote a few posts. And then... nothing.
This started as a way to keep in touch with people while I was in grad school. For a time, it was about the bedbugs. For a great majority, it was about dating.
Life looks a little different now. The past year has been one of the most challenging and difficult times in my life. With that said, I've also been (and continue to be) enormously in love, and incredibly grounded and present in my world. And there have not been words to document the disparity in these two experiences.
There may be words later, in a different place, and from a different voice. For now, I am content to just be.
Showing posts with label introspection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label introspection. Show all posts
2.16.2010
4.20.2009
Hello and Goodbye
I haven't written for a while, and I can't really say that I've missed it.
I have, however, been thinking about this blog. Specifically, thinking about the start of the blog in 2005 and the blog now.
I started writing as a way to communicate with people. In some cases, it was my way of expressing myself without having to talk to anyone. Now, the world feels different. I am different. And I'm trying to figure out how to connect with and rebuild relationships in a direct way. There are people that I am missing, and it feels heavy, and a blog post isn't going to be a substitute for that contact.
I'm not sure what this means for this space. I do know that I need to time to figure it out.
I have, however, been thinking about this blog. Specifically, thinking about the start of the blog in 2005 and the blog now.
I started writing as a way to communicate with people. In some cases, it was my way of expressing myself without having to talk to anyone. Now, the world feels different. I am different. And I'm trying to figure out how to connect with and rebuild relationships in a direct way. There are people that I am missing, and it feels heavy, and a blog post isn't going to be a substitute for that contact.
I'm not sure what this means for this space. I do know that I need to time to figure it out.
12.27.2008
The Neverending Story
I have a cold. Again. I think I picked it up from my little twin nephews, or maybe B and I are just passing it back and forth endlessly. Or can we, perhaps, attribute it to the vast fluctuations in temperature and my packed work schedule?
In any case, B's been dispatched to pick up chicken noodle soup, hot mustard, and Riccola. And I've blown my nose so much that my abdominal muscles are sore.
Christmukah was good. A non-event, really, what with the melding of holidays and the $20 limit that we put on gifts, and some other stuff. 2008 has been such a strange ride.
And that's all I have to say about that.
In any case, B's been dispatched to pick up chicken noodle soup, hot mustard, and Riccola. And I've blown my nose so much that my abdominal muscles are sore.
Christmukah was good. A non-event, really, what with the melding of holidays and the $20 limit that we put on gifts, and some other stuff. 2008 has been such a strange ride.
And that's all I have to say about that.
11.13.2008
Too Much
You'd think that going through a lot of big changes (say: marriage, new apartment, new job - for example) would lead to copious blog posting.
You would be wrong.
You would be wrong.
8.25.2008
8.25.08
We're two months out from the BIG DAAAAAAAAAAAY.
Along with assembling the invitations, I've been doing a lot of thinking about job stuff. I know I need to go back to work, while also knowing that I cannot allow myself to be in a situation that makes me as physically and mentally sick as my last job. Does that mean a career outside of social work? I dunno.
(Oh, and about the invites? I don't know why I care so deeply about what they look like, or the wording, or any of the other things I'm reviewing over and over again. If I really wanted a reason, I guess I could just pick any one of the Freudian defense mechanisms and apply blindly.)
Along with assembling the invitations, I've been doing a lot of thinking about job stuff. I know I need to go back to work, while also knowing that I cannot allow myself to be in a situation that makes me as physically and mentally sick as my last job. Does that mean a career outside of social work? I dunno.
(Oh, and about the invites? I don't know why I care so deeply about what they look like, or the wording, or any of the other things I'm reviewing over and over again. If I really wanted a reason, I guess I could just pick any one of the Freudian defense mechanisms and apply blindly.)
8.19.2008
Suburbi-Ya!
This week finds B and I living in my parents' house while they are on vacation and our apartment is occupied by strangers. This is how it went down:
1. A woman who lives in our building is getting married and needs a place for her guests to stay.
2. We need to pay for our rehearsal dinner.
3. Only one of us is working.
4. Enter temporary sublet.
Also, we thought this would be a nice thing to do for someone. Good wedding karma, if you will. Plus, we are testing out this kind of life should we ever decide to leave the city.
So far - eh. We have plans in New York every night this week, which involves negotiating train schedules and car parking. It's almost too quiet to sleep here, and certainly way too dark. Plus, there's something a little...ooky...about staying in the house you grew up in. Lots of ghosts.
On the plus side, the dog is adapting wonderfully. He has a yard! To play ball! For hours! Without stopping!
1. A woman who lives in our building is getting married and needs a place for her guests to stay.
2. We need to pay for our rehearsal dinner.
3. Only one of us is working.
4. Enter temporary sublet.
Also, we thought this would be a nice thing to do for someone. Good wedding karma, if you will. Plus, we are testing out this kind of life should we ever decide to leave the city.
So far - eh. We have plans in New York every night this week, which involves negotiating train schedules and car parking. It's almost too quiet to sleep here, and certainly way too dark. Plus, there's something a little...ooky...about staying in the house you grew up in. Lots of ghosts.
On the plus side, the dog is adapting wonderfully. He has a yard! To play ball! For hours! Without stopping!
4.24.2008
Social. Work.
When, in a social situation, someone is making slightly deragatory remarks about the population of clients that you work with (and you yourself are a survivor of the particular social problem that this person is referencing) - what is the appropriate reaction?
Because, you know, it's hard to turn it all off when I leave the office at the end of the day.
On the flip side, who wants to hang out with Social Justice Girl?
Because, you know, it's hard to turn it all off when I leave the office at the end of the day.
On the flip side, who wants to hang out with Social Justice Girl?
2.07.2008
I'm Not There
I've been kinda...disconnected lately. I guess if I wanted to MHP myself, I'd call it slightly dissociative.
Drifting along to another subject...I'm newly (again) obsessed with this since it was used during one of the commercials during the Superbowl. Something about it recalls movement and change and life progressing along (as it does, with or without your help).
Bonus: a lovely little reminder of Six Feet Under, which I still mourn and miss.
Drifting along to another subject...I'm newly (again) obsessed with this since it was used during one of the commercials during the Superbowl. Something about it recalls movement and change and life progressing along (as it does, with or without your help).
Bonus: a lovely little reminder of Six Feet Under, which I still mourn and miss.
1.29.2008
Day 1
I actually got my ass out of bed this morning and went to the gym before work. A few comments:
1. Why does it take so much effort to practice this kind of self-care? I feel like I'm constantly attending to what I'm eating and how much I'm working out. Getting myself back on track feels like it is becoming a 2nd job. (Ok, 3rd job if you count the private clients.)
2. It was much, much easier to get out of bed at 6:00 am when I was 30.
3. It was much, much easier to get out of bed at 6:00 am when I was living/sleeping alone.
4. I'm doing really well with my eating habits, although I have to consider that my office is being negatively impacted by my quest for lean proteins, in that it usually smells like tuna and hard-boiled egg whites.
5. It also looks weird when one of your co-workers is talking to you and you are hurriedly scooping the contents of a small can of tuna into your mouth as your rush betwen meetings and clients. I'd say I felt cat-like, but not in a good way.
6. Formal half-marathon training would need to begin February 17, which is even closer than I thought. I wonder if I'll be ready, considering that 2 miles of running is a huge accomplishment nowadays.
7. Drinking a lot of water is great. Drinking a lot of water when you don't have a functioning bathroom close to your office? Not so great.
8. It is odd to regard this diet/exercise routine as a necessity to manage stress levels, rather than a strategy for looking good.
9. I believe it's time for a nap.
1. Why does it take so much effort to practice this kind of self-care? I feel like I'm constantly attending to what I'm eating and how much I'm working out. Getting myself back on track feels like it is becoming a 2nd job. (Ok, 3rd job if you count the private clients.)
2. It was much, much easier to get out of bed at 6:00 am when I was 30.
3. It was much, much easier to get out of bed at 6:00 am when I was living/sleeping alone.
4. I'm doing really well with my eating habits, although I have to consider that my office is being negatively impacted by my quest for lean proteins, in that it usually smells like tuna and hard-boiled egg whites.
5. It also looks weird when one of your co-workers is talking to you and you are hurriedly scooping the contents of a small can of tuna into your mouth as your rush betwen meetings and clients. I'd say I felt cat-like, but not in a good way.
6. Formal half-marathon training would need to begin February 17, which is even closer than I thought. I wonder if I'll be ready, considering that 2 miles of running is a huge accomplishment nowadays.
7. Drinking a lot of water is great. Drinking a lot of water when you don't have a functioning bathroom close to your office? Not so great.
8. It is odd to regard this diet/exercise routine as a necessity to manage stress levels, rather than a strategy for looking good.
9. I believe it's time for a nap.
1.26.2008
Contemplative
"Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate,
but that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?"
but that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, handsome, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?"
1.01.2008
Talkin' 'Bout A Resolution
1. We all know that my job is stressful. This will not change, even if my boss gets less crazy. There is no way that you can do what I do and not get stressed about it.
(An aside: I need to find a way to explain what I do which won't result in instant conversational death. Last night, B and I went to a party, and because it was a New York City party, the talk always turns to what you do for a living. Here's how it goes down (always):
Anyone: So, what do you do?
Me: I'm a Social Worker.
Anyone: Oh, what kind of social work?
Me: I work with people who have experienced trauma.
Anyone: Oh, what kind of trauma?
[You'd think that most people would pick up on my evasiveness, but no. They don't.]
Me: I'm a therapist for survivors of sexual assault, childhood sexual abuse, and domestic violence.
Anyone: ~silence~
[Alternately, sometimes, you get a disclosure of past or present trauma. I'm not sure which I prefer.]
2. Most people are aware of the basics of stress management. Exercise, plenty of sleep, eating right, etc.
3. For 2008, I'm gonna have to be really careful about honoring the stress management part. And adding a little extra - some yoga (thanks for the Christmas gift, B!) and knitting (thanks for the list of NYC yarn shops, ChiChiMama!) and being around people who nurture and support me.
(An aside: I need to find a way to explain what I do which won't result in instant conversational death. Last night, B and I went to a party, and because it was a New York City party, the talk always turns to what you do for a living. Here's how it goes down (always):
Anyone: So, what do you do?
Me: I'm a Social Worker.
Anyone: Oh, what kind of social work?
Me: I work with people who have experienced trauma.
Anyone: Oh, what kind of trauma?
[You'd think that most people would pick up on my evasiveness, but no. They don't.]
Me: I'm a therapist for survivors of sexual assault, childhood sexual abuse, and domestic violence.
Anyone: ~silence~
[Alternately, sometimes, you get a disclosure of past or present trauma. I'm not sure which I prefer.]
2. Most people are aware of the basics of stress management. Exercise, plenty of sleep, eating right, etc.
3. For 2008, I'm gonna have to be really careful about honoring the stress management part. And adding a little extra - some yoga (thanks for the Christmas gift, B!) and knitting (thanks for the list of NYC yarn shops, ChiChiMama!) and being around people who nurture and support me.
12.19.2007
Transition
Before I became a therapist/counselor/mental health professional, my work life was pretty simple and steady. I could go to my office and completely tune out for the day (and I often did). I could do the absolute minimum that my job required, and still be considered an excellent employee. And so my days went...
...until I decided to overturn everything that I knew and everything I felt comfortable with to become a social worker. (See archive for graduate school wackiness.)
When I started my 2nd career I had a plan. I knew the work would be emotionally challenging, but vowed that it wasn't going to get in the way of my outside life or my relationships. The start felt bumpy, but I figured that was normal for a new social worker. Then my supervisor left and things felt chaotic and finally after months of feeling totally and utterly unsupported at work, I decided that I needed clinical skills help, and started an intensive 2-year trauma training program.
Still, there was this idea about living my life and drawing the line and keeping work and play separate.
Now I feel totally tricked. Because honestly, how did I think adding 8 hours to my work week wasn't going to have an impact? How did I think that I was going to continue listening to the things that my clients tell me without having trouble sleeping, or trouble feeling safe, or trouble with any other symptom of vicarious trauma? How did I think I was going to be a social worker and that my life was going to stay the same?
Fact: my work and my personal life are intertwined, whether it's in the stuff that I carry home every day, the way that I see the world, and/or the way I'm experiencing my interpersonal relationships. And maybe holding the belief that I need to keep the two divided is taking more energy than is necessary.
I think I just need to acknowledge that I'm not the same person, and that morphing into something different is a process. I'm gonna analyze my interactions and get some things wrong and overreact to some other things and it's all going to be a bit of a mess for a while. The truth is that I chose this career and so along with that, I choose the person who will exist within this career. And I have to give myself a little space to puzzle it all together.
...until I decided to overturn everything that I knew and everything I felt comfortable with to become a social worker. (See archive for graduate school wackiness.)
When I started my 2nd career I had a plan. I knew the work would be emotionally challenging, but vowed that it wasn't going to get in the way of my outside life or my relationships. The start felt bumpy, but I figured that was normal for a new social worker. Then my supervisor left and things felt chaotic and finally after months of feeling totally and utterly unsupported at work, I decided that I needed clinical skills help, and started an intensive 2-year trauma training program.
Still, there was this idea about living my life and drawing the line and keeping work and play separate.
Now I feel totally tricked. Because honestly, how did I think adding 8 hours to my work week wasn't going to have an impact? How did I think that I was going to continue listening to the things that my clients tell me without having trouble sleeping, or trouble feeling safe, or trouble with any other symptom of vicarious trauma? How did I think I was going to be a social worker and that my life was going to stay the same?
Fact: my work and my personal life are intertwined, whether it's in the stuff that I carry home every day, the way that I see the world, and/or the way I'm experiencing my interpersonal relationships. And maybe holding the belief that I need to keep the two divided is taking more energy than is necessary.
I think I just need to acknowledge that I'm not the same person, and that morphing into something different is a process. I'm gonna analyze my interactions and get some things wrong and overreact to some other things and it's all going to be a bit of a mess for a while. The truth is that I chose this career and so along with that, I choose the person who will exist within this career. And I have to give myself a little space to puzzle it all together.
11.20.2007
Pod People
B's house (now my house too, I suppose) has wireless Internet. Which is a luxury I'm not accustomed to. (I'm not even gonna get into the 42" flat screen television with cable *and* DVR.)
The problem with the Internet everywhere is that, most nights, I end up on my computer, catching up on blogs and writing emails. And B ends up on his computer doing the same things.
I wonder if we'll get to the point where we talk through email while in the same room. Which makes a certain sort of twisted sense, because we met on match.com.
The problem with the Internet everywhere is that, most nights, I end up on my computer, catching up on blogs and writing emails. And B ends up on his computer doing the same things.
I wonder if we'll get to the point where we talk through email while in the same room. Which makes a certain sort of twisted sense, because we met on match.com.
10.22.2007
Yes, I Had A Weekend
Friday: The Librarian and I know we're not unintelligent women yet we both had trouble following Tom Stoppard's Rock N' Roll. The Librarian even provided some research results the next day, but I'm still not getting it. Oooo, but the guy from two of the Bourne movies was in it, so that's cool...
Saturday: B hosts the gig of a lifetime: his dog run's annual Halloween costume contest. I amuse myself by eating cookies. Stewie amuses himself by refusing to wear his costume (it was "Superdog" which narrowly won over "Dogula" at the costume store) and by chasing/humping the other dogs who *were* wearing costumes, as if to mock their acquiescence to the display. Bonus: B gets to wear a ridiculous hat, and I brought my camera.
Sunday: I decide that we need to clean/organize B's apartment. Good idea, right? Well, it was until I got all scary and hyper about it, insisting on creating a system for things that don't need a system and harassing B into helping me when all he really wants to do is watch football. And finally ending up in a huff around 10:34 pm because the humidifier that we never use wasn't put away where I wanted it. And then I realize, in the midst of speaking with B about the humidifier that we never use that I sound exactly like my mother. Good times.
Saturday: B hosts the gig of a lifetime: his dog run's annual Halloween costume contest. I amuse myself by eating cookies. Stewie amuses himself by refusing to wear his costume (it was "Superdog" which narrowly won over "Dogula" at the costume store) and by chasing/humping the other dogs who *were* wearing costumes, as if to mock their acquiescence to the display. Bonus: B gets to wear a ridiculous hat, and I brought my camera.
Sunday: I decide that we need to clean/organize B's apartment. Good idea, right? Well, it was until I got all scary and hyper about it, insisting on creating a system for things that don't need a system and harassing B into helping me when all he really wants to do is watch football. And finally ending up in a huff around 10:34 pm because the humidifier that we never use wasn't put away where I wanted it. And then I realize, in the midst of speaking with B about the humidifier that we never use that I sound exactly like my mother. Good times.
10.15.2007
A Ridiculous Charade
Yesterday evening, my family came into town to celebrate my brother and SIL's birthdays, which had happened while I was drinking my way through the Emerald Isle.
Because we were going out to dinner in my neighborhood (um, I guess I mean my former neighborhood, at least for the month of October, and possibly beyond) we decided to meet at my apartment (um, I guess I mean my former apartment, at least for the month of October, and possibly beyond). So this involved making sure The Librarian was home so we could get in to my former/current apartment, then explaining to my family that she is staying there for the month.
"Oh", my mom said, "it must be crowded."
This was obviously the perfect time to explain to Mom that I have, in fact, been staying at B's (instead of living in my tiny apartment with two people and one queen-sized bed). But I kept my mouth shut, and nodded, because, you know, I am instantly 12 years old and seeking approval when dealing with my family.
And then, of course, woke up thinking about the whole mess today and felt even more childish and foolish for playing along with a game I didn't set up in the first place.
Because we were going out to dinner in my neighborhood (um, I guess I mean my former neighborhood, at least for the month of October, and possibly beyond) we decided to meet at my apartment (um, I guess I mean my former apartment, at least for the month of October, and possibly beyond). So this involved making sure The Librarian was home so we could get in to my former/current apartment, then explaining to my family that she is staying there for the month.
"Oh", my mom said, "it must be crowded."
This was obviously the perfect time to explain to Mom that I have, in fact, been staying at B's (instead of living in my tiny apartment with two people and one queen-sized bed). But I kept my mouth shut, and nodded, because, you know, I am instantly 12 years old and seeking approval when dealing with my family.
And then, of course, woke up thinking about the whole mess today and felt even more childish and foolish for playing along with a game I didn't set up in the first place.
9.25.2007
Feelings, Whoa Whoa Whoa...Feelings
So...all the blood tests for my mystery illness are turning up absolutely nothing.
Bearing in mind that I am a Mental Health Professional (tm The Lawyer) I guess the next thing to investigate is my psychological well being.
(Oh, BY THE WAY - thank you to everyone who checked in with me over the past few weeks, and especially to those who suggested that I might be pregnant. Ha! Wouldn't that have been a humdinger! Look at me! Laughing over here because that is SO FUNNY! See? I'm laughing.)
I'm moderately stressed out, but that isn't anything new. I've been 'moderately stressed out' since about 1997. The only difference I can pinpoint is my thought process, which feels particularly circular lately.
For example, in attempting to leave the house this morning, I could not decide what to wear...internally, it sounded something like this:
I can't imagine continuing to read that would be any more pleasant than being the person who's experiencing it, so I'll just end here.
Bearing in mind that I am a Mental Health Professional (tm The Lawyer) I guess the next thing to investigate is my psychological well being.
(Oh, BY THE WAY - thank you to everyone who checked in with me over the past few weeks, and especially to those who suggested that I might be pregnant. Ha! Wouldn't that have been a humdinger! Look at me! Laughing over here because that is SO FUNNY! See? I'm laughing.)
I'm moderately stressed out, but that isn't anything new. I've been 'moderately stressed out' since about 1997. The only difference I can pinpoint is my thought process, which feels particularly circular lately.
For example, in attempting to leave the house this morning, I could not decide what to wear...internally, it sounded something like this:
[ridiculouschick]: wow, these pants are feeling a little tight. are they looking tight? (attempt to see shape of body reflected in glass of a framed poster.) they are tight. why are they tight? they used to fit, no, they used to be loose. this is because i'm not doing the marathon and i haven't been to the gym in a while. oh man, i feel fat. wait, i don't just feel fat, i AM fat. and why am i paying $55 a month for the gym when i'm not going to the gym? i don't have that money to waste. i don't have money to get new clothes either. oh, and i just bough all those pants at banana republic and now they're not going to fit because i'm fat and i haven't been to the gym. why am i not going to the gym? it's my schedule. i can't go to the gym because of my work schedule. i need to get out of work earlier. but i can't leave work earlier because then i won't have enough clients and then i won't complete my hours to get my clinical license. i should get up earlier and go before work. but i can't see getting up any earlier than i have been, and i'm already exhausted, so that won't help. but i used to get up at 5 am to go to the gym when i was an engineer and i was skinny. right now, though, i'm fat and it's all my fault and...
I can't imagine continuing to read that would be any more pleasant than being the person who's experiencing it, so I'll just end here.
9.06.2007
Oh Great Googly Moogly
I've been a major asshole since I've returned from vacation.
It's been extremely hard for me to return to New York City after being away. The things that usually don't bother me (crowds, noise, sirens, rudeness) are amplified. During my commute home on Tuesday, some fucktard was sitting in my subway car (yes, MY subway car) openly smoking a cigarette. And no-one wanted to ask him to put it out because he looked a little crazy.
Sigh. The end of summer + minor NYC annoyances + rapidly approaching 35th birthday = ridiculouschick in a very bad mood.
B has been doing his best to weather the storm. After only dating me for 2 months, he seems to have perfected the art of knowing when to give me space, when to make fun of my unreasonableness, and when to listen/support/commiserate. He understands why I'm pushing and testing him, and tells me that my behavior doesn't change how he feels about me. He's patient without being pathetic. I'm only beginning to realize how much he cares about me, which, because I am somewhat crazy, leads to internal freak outs and bratty behavior.
Thankfully, my therapist is back from her vacation to absorb some of the foolishness and once again, point out the ways that I sabotage the things I care about.
For now, it's time to move out of my head and get some work done. Oh, and get a haircut, because B and I are going out to dinner and the very least I can do is try to look good for the boy.
It's been extremely hard for me to return to New York City after being away. The things that usually don't bother me (crowds, noise, sirens, rudeness) are amplified. During my commute home on Tuesday, some fucktard was sitting in my subway car (yes, MY subway car) openly smoking a cigarette. And no-one wanted to ask him to put it out because he looked a little crazy.
Sigh. The end of summer + minor NYC annoyances + rapidly approaching 35th birthday = ridiculouschick in a very bad mood.
B has been doing his best to weather the storm. After only dating me for 2 months, he seems to have perfected the art of knowing when to give me space, when to make fun of my unreasonableness, and when to listen/support/commiserate. He understands why I'm pushing and testing him, and tells me that my behavior doesn't change how he feels about me. He's patient without being pathetic. I'm only beginning to realize how much he cares about me, which, because I am somewhat crazy, leads to internal freak outs and bratty behavior.
Thankfully, my therapist is back from her vacation to absorb some of the foolishness and once again, point out the ways that I sabotage the things I care about.
For now, it's time to move out of my head and get some work done. Oh, and get a haircut, because B and I are going out to dinner and the very least I can do is try to look good for the boy.
8.16.2007
Unease
I'm feeling...peculiar. Halfway between anxious and upset. Had a strange night out last night, and not feeling good about leaving the city behind for two weeks.
A little introspection/check-up/check-in is needed in order to figure out why.
I'll be right back with you. In the meantime, a Boston Creme donut might aid in the thinking process.
A little introspection/check-up/check-in is needed in order to figure out why.
I'll be right back with you. In the meantime, a Boston Creme donut might aid in the thinking process.
7.25.2007
Clearly, I Enjoy Spending Time In My Own Head
My horoscope today:
Lots of thinking going on over here. It's interesting that almost directly after receiving some unsettling news, I met someone, and am now negotiating a new relationship.
There's a weird kind of synergy between ending and starting.
And this new thing is kicking up all sorts of stuff for me - mostly closeness and over-analyzing and pushing someone away without even realizing you are doing it. Because, clearly, he's right there, and he's been open and honest and adult about everything. "I have problems trusting people", I keep telling him, but I'm really only trying to have faith in myself.
Some past dramas are easy to forget, but some are tougher to erase from your mind than they should be. Today you will be reminded of a past situation early in the day, and unsettling feelings will hover around you all day. This is just your subconscious working things out, so let it. Do not try to push these thoughts out of your head. Just let them fade away on their own -- they will. You cannot force yourself to forget something. It just has to go away on its own.
Lots of thinking going on over here. It's interesting that almost directly after receiving some unsettling news, I met someone, and am now negotiating a new relationship.
There's a weird kind of synergy between ending and starting.
And this new thing is kicking up all sorts of stuff for me - mostly closeness and over-analyzing and pushing someone away without even realizing you are doing it. Because, clearly, he's right there, and he's been open and honest and adult about everything. "I have problems trusting people", I keep telling him, but I'm really only trying to have faith in myself.
7.10.2007
Life *Is* Like The Movies
Sally: He just met her... She's supposed to be his transitional person, she's not supposed to be the ONE. All this time I thought he didn't want to get married. But, the truth is, he didn't want to marry me. He didn't love me.
Harry: If you could take him back now, would you?
Sally: No. But why didn't he want to marry me? What's the matter with me?
Harry: Nothing.
Sally: I'm difficult.
Harry: You're challenging.
Sally: I'm too structured, I'm completely closed off.
Harry: But in a good way.
Sally: No, no, no, I drove him away. AND, I'm gonna be forty.
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday.
Harry: In eight years.
Sally: But it's there. It's just sitting there, like some big dead end. And it's not the same for men. Charlie Chaplin had kids when he was 73.
Harry: Yeah, but he was too old to pick them up.
Harry: If you could take him back now, would you?
Sally: No. But why didn't he want to marry me? What's the matter with me?
Harry: Nothing.
Sally: I'm difficult.
Harry: You're challenging.
Sally: I'm too structured, I'm completely closed off.
Harry: But in a good way.
Sally: No, no, no, I drove him away. AND, I'm gonna be forty.
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday.
Harry: In eight years.
Sally: But it's there. It's just sitting there, like some big dead end. And it's not the same for men. Charlie Chaplin had kids when he was 73.
Harry: Yeah, but he was too old to pick them up.
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