I feel that people will reflect on how isolated, lonely, disconnected, and anxious the COVID-19 pandemic made them feel. And I will say, For me, nothing changed during the pandemic. All my life I already felt this isolated, lonely, disconnected, and anxious. At least one positive was the social acceptability of covering my face with a mask.
Today I learned that ‘entitled’ means reminding a person less than tactfully that they agreed to an obligation they have not fulfilled within a timely manner.
I was told that she, “didn’t owe me anything”. Except that I asked for something, she agreed to it, and then she pretended like that never happened.
“Don’t be a dishonest person and agree to things you have no intention on holding yourself accountable to. Don’t attempt to shame me for asking for what I need when you had the freedom to say yes OR no.”
Or I should have said, “I have learned my lesson that you can’t be trusted to mean or keep your word.”
That basically translates to “I don’t trust you.”
All because in October it seemed totally reasonable she could get me a pair of gloves for Christmas BEFORE Christmas.
I wonder how long I am going to pine for someone who didn’t really exist except in my imagination. How long am I going to miss a person that doesn’t miss me?
It seems like every milestone brings up this grief and sense of loss. I took my child to school for the first time. It went well and there’s no reason to be sad.
Except I am missing someone now. But not a biological relative who has passed on or lives somewhere we can’t easily reach. Instead I miss someone who would rather imagine my life than keep in touch to learn the reality.
Of course, it’s my own fault this person isn’t in my life. It’s my own fault my heart aches so terribly right now. That is what happens when people date people who not that into them. The people who don’t care are fine and don’t even have to “move on” so much as just quit. Even forgetting is easy for them.
I don’t even have a perfectly sound explanation for why I care so much. I do know this person is more comforting to me than my parents or anyone else I dated. I felt safe then in a deep sense when he held me in a period were little felt alright. Perhaps he was the person I was most attached to in my life. Probably because I met him at an incredibly wounded and vulnerable time in my life and he didn’t regularly criticize me in a judgemental tone as I proceeded to fail at life.
But he didn’t “get” me either. He didn’t adore me or even prefer me to other pretty women. He just put up with me because of his own insecurities after his compassion got him in over his head.
I don’t know even how there could be a mutually positive conversation between us now or in the future. Unless I lie and keep to myself that I miss him and wanted to talk with him. Certainly impossible if I show any jealousy.
There’s a void and when I miss him, it represents that void. He somewhat filled up that void, but it wasn’t quite enough and it didn’t last. Even when I was with him, I felt desperate and depressed daily. I wanted someone who knew me to deeply love me. He barely knew me and he didn’t care much for me the better acquainted we became. He couldn’t give me a steady kind of love but apparently he came the closest experiences I have ever had.
It’s oddly painful to feel grief where before I met him there would have only been dull emptiness.
Perhaps missing him shows a really ugly side of me.
You criticized me first, btw. So yes, you did raise me to treat you this way if you had considered your behavior as molding mine. You did raise me to be ungrateful by complaining, negative by criticizing, insulting by insulting, angry by hurting, depressed by neglecting. You think you loved me but you aren’t capable of love or taking responsibility for the hurt you intentionally or unintentionally caused.
You blame me for trying to change our dysfunctional dynamic but I think I need to accept you are a toxic person incapable of change and you’ll only continue to unapologetically hurt us as long as I let myself be near you.
Broken. Maybe it’s a lie here and another lie there. Catching two different stories about the same event. And slowly, no matter how many excuses I make or how much I want to believe and trust someone, it’s gone. There is nothing left. Every story needs confirmation, but is the evidence provided even definite proof? Could it be faked? Digitally altered? Showing something that only appears to be what I am looking for? How much of the story is a lie? All or just part or just the tiniest but most crucial detail? It’s maddening to have to test everything because there’s been enough demonstration that anything can be lied about. There are no boundaries that aren’t crossed by deceit.
Really, the only sane choice is to cut ties with this person. Make sure there’s no access, leverage, anything left that I would not let everyone else see. Nothing with which to attack or blackmail me. Because if the lying is so obvious and brazen, could there be anything this person wouldn’t do?
The web of lies only can grow, entangling me further into betrayal, danger, and most of all hurt. When trust is gone, affection will follow.
The guy in front of me at the drive-thru paid for my fast food meal and passed along a little note about the idea coming from some radio station (Star 93.3)
And apparently I’m supposed to be grateful and inspired. But I live in Trump/Republican country (upwards of 75% of voters vote Republican), so it’s safe to assume there’s a significant chance that if this Christian stranger votes, he or she votes for slashing public welfare programs and endorses views like “people need to take responsibility”.
I CAN pay for my poisonous garbage food. As Andy Samberg sings in “Threw It on the Ground”: ““Man, what’d I look like? A charity case?”
I took it and threw it on the ground
I don’t need your hand-outs
I’m an adult
Please, you can’t buy me hotdog man”
So, in summary, I feel like have been used by some self-righteous jackass Christian who feels better about themselves by making me a charity case. I’m not buying into that religious nonsense about helping out other people who have enough money to afford cars by buying $10 worth of food. There are so many people who need so many different kinds of help, but you’d have to have a relationship and listen to actually help them with what they need. That’s the kind of help people do appreciate.
You know, this shit doesn’t happen in California. No weirdo has bought my food for me at In-N-Out.
I still ate it, because I am not wasteful. But really just because I didn’t remember “Threw It on the Ground” until halfway through my meal.
I made a resolution to write daily and shop less.
So far, shopping less and not buying unnecessary things has been easier. Christmas was just 17 days ago. So I have more than enough everything and can’t afford to splurge on luxuries right now anyway. I still browse slickdeals.com, which is a bad sign. Buying stuff that was a good deal was a big part of 2017’s too much shopping. And it’s amazing how much a toddler step stool seems like a need if you have nothing else to buy.
But, certainly I do feel a shift away from shopping. It’s focusing on writing from my often painful interior world that is hardest. I’d much rather: SHOP, eat, read articles, watch TV, play videogames… really anything else. After a bad break up 4 years ago, I was miserable and needed to fix my life. So instead of that, I read the entire Harry Potter series almost obsessively. My therapist viewed it as self care. I viewed it as distraction and avoidance.
Maybe it could be argued that Harry Potter is a very satisfying, fulfilling fiction to read. I do love those books, even the Order of the Phoenix.
But I definitely see a pattern in my life of picking easy, mundane tasks over big, multi-step projects. Daily effort towards a goal despite setbacks that come as part of life could be named grit. I have no grit.
I’d rather do a simple task I don’t think is important than work on developing a meaningful career. Or learn a language. Or make art. Or learn and practice a new skill. I have an ukelele I never plan on learning how to play. I’d rather do a one-off like mail a friend a package, bake cookies, research something I will never do, go on an errand, than embark on a journey that depends on showing up each day.
Maybe I am afraid of not feeling like doing the work over and over. Or not making noticable progress even if I do try again and again. Maybe I won’t make a decision or commit to anything. Maybe I have a failure mindset and anxiety about failing makes trying impossible. Maybe I really don’t want to be successful, ambitious, or happy. Whatever it is, I have no grit.
And I would much rather shop for some item I could live without than write about not being disciplined enough to write everyday.
My grandmother and grandfather have poor physical and mental health so there was a bit of drama at Christmas and probably will continue for a while. I have a very selfish uncle and he lives with them, but my mom and her other brother feel like he does nothing to help them. And of course, being the oldest grandchild and my mom is a bit of a gossip, I do agree. But I think I need to remind myself to not become invested in drama no one is asking me to try to solve. My mom’s friend was giving her advice and I felt like I was seeing myself: wanting to reduce harm and create results but it’s neither of our problem.
Haha, but I think focusing on other people’s drama is easier than handling my own problems. I feel so much anxiety over my own problems that I really avoid trying to deal with them. If my mom is doing the same with hers, who am I to get on her case? If I had my life all put together, I wouldn’t be in a position to be in the know about my grandmother’s declining health. I assume my emotions are more debilitating and intense than my mom’s, but that’s only conjecture based on her lack of breakdowns and her ability to keep up appearances of normacy.
And it’s not like I don’t care what happens to them, but it is out of my control. And I resent constant advice givers very much, personally. I know my mom won’t use my advice, regardless. So this situation seems like a perfect time to practice deliberate presence while giving up on managing, predicting, or even trying worrying about my grandmother. It’s not my place. And now, as an adult, I can claim my own distance.
I’ve already failed on my New Year’s Resolutions the first day. I shopped online and I didn’t journal or write.
Before waking up at 4pm on the 1st day of a new year, I was up all night. And at the time I was still optimistic about two new goals.
I read about a year of not shopping here and I found it compelling. I gained weight three years ago and so I know I have enough clothes for any size I might weigh (except more 😲 ). I could still buy kids’ birthday gifts and do Christmas in 12 months. Books, children’s clothes, food, household items would all be allowed. But clothes, toys, shoes, make-up, accessories, furniture and all other sorts of luxuries would be banned for a year. I could make an exception for tennis shoes if mine fall apart and I kno I need a toddler’s step stool. But I really don’t forsee needing to buy so much of the other stuff I do want to buy. Although I have bought decorations and paper products for Jake’s past birthday parties, this year balloons and cake would be fine, but the themed plates, napkins, and hanging decorations would not.
I hope I will see noticeable savings. It would be exciting in 12 months if I might have a list of items I truly want for Christmas (like tennis shoes).
Honestly, I spent a lot of money last year, even for me, thus I think I have excess of everything. I shopped a lot. Probably like the author of the article, I too wanted a distraction from the pessimism I feel so regularly.
Writing is a longterm practice I want to make a daily habit. Sort of, because I actually feel ambivalence about writing daily since it means I will have to slow down and peek into my current state of being. I am afraid to deal with my negative feelings.
Which is why I bought myself a pair of leggings and played videogames for almost 12 hours straight. Shopping and distracting media keep uncomfortable emotions on the peripheral of my consciousness.
So, post one, a day late. I feel sick and guilty, and don’t want to commit to resolutions I found too hard to keep for even 24 hours.
But I suppose that’s why daily practice matters. You have to try every day first until you develop a habit.