Maybe once a month, you'll both put up a good fight, but both of you would say it's just for old time's sake.
I've never felt so alone. I shouldn't, even. I have two really great girlfriends here, and I have J to hang out with and Tony to talk to and Paul to give me good gossip and Christopias to take bajillions of pictures of things. But it is the problems with M that just plague me, that make my heart hurt, that make me want to just lay down and wail at the sky. Because it all comes back to me. Comes back to how inadequate I feel, and how inadequate I have turned out to be. I just want someone to love me again. And I just want someone to love. And even worse, I'm tired of everything. Everything is the same, everything is always the same, and I don't know how to change it.
This week I blew off a boy from school who wanted to hang out with me because I thought he was 'too normal,' and the idea freaked me out. I couldn't imagine myself interacting with anyone on the normal, college level, let alone a boy. What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me that I have alienated myself so effectively for any semblance of sanity? It is ridiculous. Too normal. I can't believe that. I'm so ridiculous, and I'm MEAN too.
I keep hearing about how mean I am. I want to be perfect. I want to be as perfect as I can to everyone I know. But here I am, with this hair colour I am regretting, wearing a shirt I've had on now for probably about three days regardless of the fact that I did do laundry, looking at my bed that literally has no sheets because I did said laundry and haven't gotten up enough enthusiasm to put them back on. I wish I could get myself stabilized. I wish I could become Corrine and have everything steady in my head. Things are black and white for her. You HAVE to go to class, you HAVE to study, you HAVE to do this and that, there is just no other options. For me, there are always options, there are always shifting greys.
The phrase 'shifting greys' reminds me of this poem I used to like, something about the 'mourning grey.' That's the most perfect expression I think I've ever seen to explain how I am feeling. Look at me! I don't even have any Christmas spirit. I have no enthusiasm for a holiday that used to fill me with such unabated joy. More and more often I'm becoming resentful for being an only child. My family feels broken, empty, and lost. I love my parents but I don't love being around them. Our house, the house that I did not grow up in, the house filled with furniture that was bought specifically for this house, the house that has no worthwhile memories for me, our house has become my enemy. My house is swallowing up holidays it has no right to because it did not earn them. It did not earn me. My mother keeps trying to get me to invite people over and I am hostile at the idea. This house hasn't seen fourth grade sleepovers and this house hasn't earned my collages and this house didn't see Christmas parties or birthday parties or Valentine's day parties. This house didn't see cookies, or adolescent tears, or Eileen, or Paul. I don't know what the solution to this is. But I am resentful.
I want to feel more balanced. I want to talk to Harriet, but I can't, for reasons as silly as up there. She's changed her appearance, lost a lot of weight, stopped dressing in her weird pseudo-hippie clothes, started dying her grey hair brown. I feel like she too, even though she is my therapist, has betrayed me. How can I tell my secrets to this woman whose motive for changing is one that I can so thoroughly relate to, but whose success is one that is so alien to me? Betrayal. My old life, my happy life, is betraying me and I have nothing to put in its place.
I wish this were cathartic. I wish putting all these things down would make them go away. I even wish that I <-- I stopped typing that to attend to an IM and forgot what I was saying. I don't want to post this because I know who is going to read it now. And because of that Dland has changed for me. But for four years, a history and dedication of which is only rivaled by Spritopias, this has been the home for all of these things. And I have no place but here to put them, and I can think of a no better home for them.
