"I keep telling myself I'm not the desperate type"
-I'm studying for my Psychology of Adjustment midterm exam.
-While studying I mixed a new nail polish color - gold + maroon + orange sparkle + deep red
-I have 2 letters I really want to write, but only seem to be interesting in taking the time to write them when I have others things I need to be doing.
-I don't want to graduate. I don't want to work everyday. I don't want to get an apartment. The thought of the real world isn't congruent with my self perceived age.
-lists....
Speaking of adjustment...
Supposedly daily life hassles are harder to deal with than major life events because daily hassles are more persistent, and social support isn't as available for them. I deal so well with daily life hassles, but my major life events aren't even identified, never mind coped with. Graduation for example. But that’s a small one compared to the issues I let break my heart over and over. More often than not these issues are actually people. I've been told that since you can't control other people’s actions you need to alter your own behaviors to adapt to them, or your thoughts to deal with them. Bah. I don't do this; I let others actions stab my heart over and over. I assume fault when in fact no blame is even being dished. In general, when a situation arises, I am able to assess it and see a viable answer. The answer is not always the best, and I don't always take the action to implement that answer. I do know an answer is there and I do know what my actions are, and when there is a gap I recognize it. The problem as of late is that situations, especially those involving my heart, are remaining too fuzzy for me to distinguish a solution. Basically, I care for people that hurt me. I don't want to stop caring, because when you care for someone from your heart it feels good. I can cope with unreciprocated emotions. The pain comes from unresolved caring and from others actions and words not matching. I want emotions to be defined, and often the fine, yet walkable line becomes a fuzzy mile that we shout over. Imagine trying to communicate by sign language through a 10 foot wall of fog. Care a lot or a little, in the middle or not at all, but when you figure out where you stand, tell me. It doesn't need to be itemized and spelled out, but mixed signals have never been clear to anyone, and I am not any different. Let's accept reality and have faith that words do not in fact kill anyone. To shield myself from this seemingly inevitable pain, I have chosen a special and important part of myself to disguise, and hide away. I know its there, but have no way of showing anyone else without a booby trap exploding before the message is received. I can't move on because I of the fog. I can't start new because of the walls. I feel mute. I want to share my secrets but don't think any one wants to hear them. I do understand that there are people who will listen, but I want more than that, I want someone who will ask about them, and relish in my reveal, rather than listen so that they can pay relationship dues, or listen so they can then talk.
But where am I found in this spectrum? Do I listen and relish? Do I listen to talk? Am I being all that I can, should, and want to be? Do I want to be that? Am I just assessing who I am so that I can further judge who you are without guilt?
Also, why do I type my entries in the text box and then cut them into word to look for spelling and grammar errors, and then cut back into the text box? Why not just start in word?
-While studying I mixed a new nail polish color - gold + maroon + orange sparkle + deep red
-I have 2 letters I really want to write, but only seem to be interesting in taking the time to write them when I have others things I need to be doing.
-I don't want to graduate. I don't want to work everyday. I don't want to get an apartment. The thought of the real world isn't congruent with my self perceived age.
-lists....
Speaking of adjustment...
Supposedly daily life hassles are harder to deal with than major life events because daily hassles are more persistent, and social support isn't as available for them. I deal so well with daily life hassles, but my major life events aren't even identified, never mind coped with. Graduation for example. But that’s a small one compared to the issues I let break my heart over and over. More often than not these issues are actually people. I've been told that since you can't control other people’s actions you need to alter your own behaviors to adapt to them, or your thoughts to deal with them. Bah. I don't do this; I let others actions stab my heart over and over. I assume fault when in fact no blame is even being dished. In general, when a situation arises, I am able to assess it and see a viable answer. The answer is not always the best, and I don't always take the action to implement that answer. I do know an answer is there and I do know what my actions are, and when there is a gap I recognize it. The problem as of late is that situations, especially those involving my heart, are remaining too fuzzy for me to distinguish a solution. Basically, I care for people that hurt me. I don't want to stop caring, because when you care for someone from your heart it feels good. I can cope with unreciprocated emotions. The pain comes from unresolved caring and from others actions and words not matching. I want emotions to be defined, and often the fine, yet walkable line becomes a fuzzy mile that we shout over. Imagine trying to communicate by sign language through a 10 foot wall of fog. Care a lot or a little, in the middle or not at all, but when you figure out where you stand, tell me. It doesn't need to be itemized and spelled out, but mixed signals have never been clear to anyone, and I am not any different. Let's accept reality and have faith that words do not in fact kill anyone. To shield myself from this seemingly inevitable pain, I have chosen a special and important part of myself to disguise, and hide away. I know its there, but have no way of showing anyone else without a booby trap exploding before the message is received. I can't move on because I of the fog. I can't start new because of the walls. I feel mute. I want to share my secrets but don't think any one wants to hear them. I do understand that there are people who will listen, but I want more than that, I want someone who will ask about them, and relish in my reveal, rather than listen so that they can pay relationship dues, or listen so they can then talk.
But where am I found in this spectrum? Do I listen and relish? Do I listen to talk? Am I being all that I can, should, and want to be? Do I want to be that? Am I just assessing who I am so that I can further judge who you are without guilt?
Also, why do I type my entries in the text box and then cut them into word to look for spelling and grammar errors, and then cut back into the text box? Why not just start in word?