I'm grateful for: getting better, even if it doesn't *feel* better; a mirpesset with shade where I can do laundry, even on the worst days of summer like this one; being a bit less overwhelmed.

I'm feeling very tired and frustrated. I feel like I've spent WAY too much time trying to explain myself, trying to make myself understood, and trying to keep from being misunderstood. All to no point, really, because people basically understand what they want to in my experience.

If I want to talk and know that I won't be deliberately misunderstood, or be able to count on being understood, then I need to talk to Hashem only. It seems. In any event I've put too much effort into it and I am now feeling sad and sorry for myself and put-upon and it's all pointless and stupid. I don't even know why I'm writing here instead of writing to Hashem, other than that this window was open so maybe this is what I am supposed to be doing. I am *not* trying to be understood here, though. F**k it. I'm writing whatever comes into my head to write.

Problem is that then after-the-fact I feel scared. I don't even feel scared *of* anything, just scared. It would make more sense to me if I was afraid of consequences, of making people angry, or rejection or something definable like that. But it's not any of that, it's just fear. Perhaps a lifelong intrinsic fear whenever I just say whatever comes into my head without editing (I am correcting typoes *grin*).

Okay, probably not lifelong, but certainly from very earliest years, because as I typed that I became more conscious of how utterly not okay it was for me to be me when I was little. Or from any time past that, but especially when I was a little kid, dependent on grown-ups who hated me and with no possibility of any help or escape. First rule of survival: being yourself is BAD. Okay, got that.

Doesn't fix my every day life today, but it is nice for the moment to see the process. I won't remember this, it will slip away again. Not that being myself was not safe when I was younger, but that that has any relationship to my problems in life today.

I haven't been writing here for a while, at least regularly, because it has seemed such an effort and largely pointless. And yet here it is pouring out of me today. Hashem's will.

I just don't want to talk to anyone for a while. I don't want to do anything for a while. I want to rest, recover my equilibrium (if I ever had it), and then slowly and carefully step out of my safe space to tackle the world again. Only I have to get out to the mirpesset to do laundry, and then it just goes from there.

I'm so tired of hurting inside. Tired of being in pain. There seems to be no end to the sadness, the grieving, the work or the hurt. I hope I'm wrong and it's just because it's been such a long bad patch, but that is how I'm feeling now.

Laundry calls.

I'm listening to Keep The Park Clean For The Pigeons from Sesame Street.

:: 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