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Tuesday, Feb. 24, 2004 / 1:29 p.m. ~Holding It All In, the Pendulum Swings the Other Way Now~ (*I wrote this earlier, I'm much better now, but still in need of a good release, i.e. cry.) Sitting in my cubicle at work, thinking about it, formulating the appropriate words to describe how it made me feel, I started to cry, key word �started�. I caught myself, thought, �This must be PMS�, and cursed my emotional nature. I�ve gone back to where I was, and this was what I wanted, but now I�m analyzing all that happened before, how badly it all turned out, and how still, still, to this day, no one �gets� me. No one understands, etc., etc., add �No one� blah, blah, blah�, choose your verb, they all apply, and this is now pity party central, but constantly not getting what I want, constantly being misunderstood, misinterpreted, etc., etc., ad nauseum (hey, �ad nauseum� was featured on �Super Millionaire� last night � yet, MS Word does not recognize it), and it�s all so damned tiring. I�ve not only gone back to where I was before, I�m going back farther, remembering how far I wanted to go, and again, I remember now, I long to be a hermit. I hate people. I do. I am so positive, in spite of myself and all that I know to be true, I remain pitifully na�ve, and this I hate about myself. Why do I constantly, continually forget what people are capable of, and what they are not? I will never find what I have dreamed of, I will never have anything good and positive in a relationship with another human being, and wait, don�t want to start crying again, not even �start�, but I hate you all, right now, I hate you all. It�s just me�, and I can�t write this right now, too emotional, fucking PMS. It�s later. It may not look like it on the page, but time has passed since the last paragraph. Momentary meltdown. I have a hard time with people wanting to knock me down instead of offering up a bit of praise or congratulations. But that�s typical. And there is balance. Maybe I�m focusing on the negative when indeed there was a positive too. I�m sensitive. I don�t play well with others. I don�t get them about as much as they don�t get me. It�s mutual lack of �getting�. First thing this morning, the getting ready for work thoughts were all about how poorly it all worked out, the getting out, the meeting new people, the having sex again, the trying, the making of efforts, expending so much, wasting gas money if nothing else. All for the proverbial naught. It never works, I�d do well to remember that, but I know I won�t. Maybe there could be some alarm that would go off, but then again maybe there is, and maybe it did go off, maybe it sounded loud and clear and I heard it, and I ignored it, because I wanted. And that wanting will one day be the death of me. In addition to my old desire to have nothing but happiness, the old �I just want to be happy� routine, no big house, no fancy car, no millions, just enough to live by, just enough to pay my bills, just �enough�, period, now I just want not to want. I desperately want not to want. And there has to be a better way to deal with that than desperation. Being around people is incredibly difficult today. I don�t want to look in anyone�s eyes, I don�t want to hear people breathe, or cough, or talk, and I don�t want to smell them, or see them, or feel anyone near me. This is the antithesis of all that came before. This is the balance, this is the act of balancing. It can all only go so far before it swings back the other way. I went to my job trainer earlier, with questions, but specific questions, I wanted to say what I knew, ask what I didn�t, but in the asking, and in his answering, he began to tell me what I already know, and in my impatience, and his combined, he said, �Stop cutting me off�, and I hated him. I thought I�m smarter than he is, and he hates that, and he interjects too much religion into our training sessions, he stops to praise god, and I want to report him to some separation of church and work committee, or something, and he�s a flaming queen, not that there is anything wrong with that, but a flaming CHRISTIAN queen who spouts from the good book constantly is freakish at best. It�s early yet, there is an entire day to struggle through, this comes to an end here. Cost of the War in Iraq
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