I'm grateful for: a night for thinking; faith; growing up

I'm not asleep yet. AND I didn't write the email. Whee.

I did play a few games, read anyone and everyone I ever read on diaryland, and think about things.

I guess that's what I needed to do.

I'm thinking, I'm scared. And, I want life to be easy. Or at least easier. I don't want to worry.

I want to be able to come back here (to read my diary) in five years and be proud of who and what I am and have done. There are no guarantees. All I can do is the next right thing, and hope that the best intentions produce the best results.

I am so very tired of worrying about other people - what they think. I've been lonely and alone (both and either) for just about my whole life. I can still be hurt, but these days I'm better able, I think, to not let other people's meanness ruin my whole day.

Okay, that was probably a gross misstatement, or at best grossly over-optimistic. Is it wrong that I am sensitive to what other people say/think/write/do? I think it is no more wrong than that I am sensitive to soaps, and fabric, and scents.

Just because my whole life people have told me I have to be tough - and because I've found faking being tough often works better than acknowledging how sensitive I really am - doesn't make it true, or good, or the right thing for me to be/do.

I hope that I've done the right things. I hope I've done the right things by my children - they are all that really matter, at least to me.

It's a big, scary world out there. I don't know what Hashem wants me to do. I don't know if I've been doing it. I hope so.

I just read something in someone else's diary and it gave me pause. Just for a moment. I wasn't angry, even though it could have made me angry. I was just ...

So much of my life people have told me I was evil. This is the literal truth. I've had to come to terms with this, learn to live in a world with people who will condemn and attack me just for being different, or for seeing things from different angles, or for refusing to participate in their wishful thinking. People I thought were friends have abandoned me, or just cut the connection, because I prefer to talk about hard things - like this war we are having - than things like the new neighbours' furniture and whether or not so-and-so stays for the whole davening Friday nights. I don't *know* how to talk about those things. They weren't a part of my upbringing or my understanding of life before and it's too late for me to learn to be socialized that way.

I tend to be hard on people - poking at their sore spots (emotional/mental sore spots), in a friendly, light-hearted way which many people resent entirely.

I'm not good at leaving any thing unspoken at all.

I don't seem to like the things most people like.

I don't seem to want the things most people want.

I can be very happy by myself - as long as my physical surrounding are good for me - rural, green, quiet, clean (unpolluted).

I hate sentences that start with the word 'I.' Even though I write an awful lot of them.

I want to go to sleep, now. I wonder what, if anything, I've learned by this?

Am I a likable person (not apparently, from the results). Am I a good person (how does one ever know?). Am I doomed to have no answers to my questions? And, what about Naomi?

To think, that stupid line from The Electric Company is doomed to follow me around throughout my life, and for what? I just can't stop remembering it.

*sigh*

I'm listening to the same fan, drips, and household noises I was before, plus the cat crunching some dry cat food

:: Yesterdays : Tomorrows ::

~~~Last Five Entries~~~
Hi and goodbye - 2010-10-15
I'll be moving on - 2010-10-10
Gold membership and stuff - 2010-10-10
Decisions, decisions - 2010-10-07
Days to go - 2010-10-06