Late night ramblings
It always amazes me that there are so many people so perfectly matched to me in this same city, this same neighborhood, that I will never have the joy of meeting simply because our paths never manage to cross. When I think about this I picture an overhead view of a city at night and then zoom out and up, watching cars zoom by in fast forward, people scurrying around, brief interactions, strangers passing without a word. I think a lot in pictures. That may be why drawing is much easier than writing or musically expressing my thoughts or emotions.
I want very badly to be able to write songs, compose songs. I get very into music that I listen to. Very passionate. Listening to live music, too, especially leaves me overwhelmed with emotions. Hyper-alive. I wish I knew how to make something so powerful, to put by feelings into sounds, words, zealous beats. When a guy plays a guitar for me I can't help but fall in love. (Lust, nostalgic lust.) Writing also proves an elusive means for expressing my feelings. I struggle to find words that match the energy kept within, the pictures streaming through my mind. I try to draw, to draw out the pictures I see and feel so clearly. I want to get better acquainted, reacquainted with my pencils and sketchbook. The more I draw, the more accurately I am able to communicate these images. I'm almost proud of the images I scrawl out across the pages. It's nice to feel proud of something again.
I'm noticing positive feelings creep back into my consciousness. The more I read about depression and OCD, the more I am able to identify it and distinguish it from my personality. When the illness becomes indistinguishable from my personality I can't help but feel self-hatred and self-doubt. As I examine myself through a more informed lens, I am able to separate myself from the sickness. I'm able to view myself positively again. I'm beginning to understand once more that I can be an enjoyable person to spend time with. I don't need to use sex to make someone want to spend time with me. Also, just because someone is disinterested in getting together doesn't mean that I am unpleasant to be around. I recognize that just because I don't like hanging out with someone doesn't mean that they are a bad or unpleasant person. The same applies to myself. There's also gray area. I've spent so long seeing things in black and white. Uncertainty has been such a scary concept to me. With the last guy I fell for I found myself playing mind games with myself, questioning everything, doubting myself and his interest in me all due to the grayness. In the end, I sabotaged any potential we had to be friends, scaring him away. It was easier for me to cope with a clear disliking of me than it was for me to accept the possibility of liking or disliking me. I hope that I've learned from this experience, learned that uncertainty is alright, that it's okay to let things progress slowly. The possibility of a good thing is better than a surefire bad one. Secretly though I want to hold out hope that I didn't ruin the possibility of a positive friendship. Hopefully we're still in the gray. I just have to accept the uncertainty to find out, to have any chance of repairing the damage. Maintaining hope but accepting rejecting. Allowing things to be out of my control. I'll be okay if things are out of my hands, out of my sight. I'm getting stronger, knowing myself better, letting myself grow and rekindle old interests. All of that makes me more interesting and worth returning to. It also makes me more prepared to let go and move on.
I want very badly to be able to write songs, compose songs. I get very into music that I listen to. Very passionate. Listening to live music, too, especially leaves me overwhelmed with emotions. Hyper-alive. I wish I knew how to make something so powerful, to put by feelings into sounds, words, zealous beats. When a guy plays a guitar for me I can't help but fall in love. (Lust, nostalgic lust.) Writing also proves an elusive means for expressing my feelings. I struggle to find words that match the energy kept within, the pictures streaming through my mind. I try to draw, to draw out the pictures I see and feel so clearly. I want to get better acquainted, reacquainted with my pencils and sketchbook. The more I draw, the more accurately I am able to communicate these images. I'm almost proud of the images I scrawl out across the pages. It's nice to feel proud of something again.
I'm noticing positive feelings creep back into my consciousness. The more I read about depression and OCD, the more I am able to identify it and distinguish it from my personality. When the illness becomes indistinguishable from my personality I can't help but feel self-hatred and self-doubt. As I examine myself through a more informed lens, I am able to separate myself from the sickness. I'm able to view myself positively again. I'm beginning to understand once more that I can be an enjoyable person to spend time with. I don't need to use sex to make someone want to spend time with me. Also, just because someone is disinterested in getting together doesn't mean that I am unpleasant to be around. I recognize that just because I don't like hanging out with someone doesn't mean that they are a bad or unpleasant person. The same applies to myself. There's also gray area. I've spent so long seeing things in black and white. Uncertainty has been such a scary concept to me. With the last guy I fell for I found myself playing mind games with myself, questioning everything, doubting myself and his interest in me all due to the grayness. In the end, I sabotaged any potential we had to be friends, scaring him away. It was easier for me to cope with a clear disliking of me than it was for me to accept the possibility of liking or disliking me. I hope that I've learned from this experience, learned that uncertainty is alright, that it's okay to let things progress slowly. The possibility of a good thing is better than a surefire bad one. Secretly though I want to hold out hope that I didn't ruin the possibility of a positive friendship. Hopefully we're still in the gray. I just have to accept the uncertainty to find out, to have any chance of repairing the damage. Maintaining hope but accepting rejecting. Allowing things to be out of my control. I'll be okay if things are out of my hands, out of my sight. I'm getting stronger, knowing myself better, letting myself grow and rekindle old interests. All of that makes me more interesting and worth returning to. It also makes me more prepared to let go and move on.