Time will tell all.
It has been a long time since I last posted. I have not felt the need to write about my life for a while, now. Why it that? Certainly, many things have happened. Though, really, most of it is not pleasant. My classes have been far from interesting; they seem like little more than a distraction and chore. I have made plans for the Fall semester and my upcoming schedule appears promising. More on that when my registration is made official.
My health is vaguely shaken. Tomorrow morning, I have my first rheumatologist appointment, since my blood test came back negative for Lyme disease. I am anxious for and fearful of professional judgment. I actually worry more that there is nothing particularly wrong with my body and that I'm simply being wimpy.
This relationship of mine is in utter confusion and discord. It's rather disappointing because, objectively, our personalities, interests, and priorities are very appropriate for each other. In fact, the problem is not between us, the individuals. Rather, there are major issues in this person's life that take complete priority over a relationship of the kind that we would otherwise be interested in. I have not been respectful of the necessity of this withdrawal from spending time together. I have been impatient and alone. With my feelings of solidarity come terrible imaginations.
It is this same imagination that had convinced me so thoroughly of the crystalline perfection of this configuration and rooted my devotion and care for it so deeply. This is not a new phenomenon for my psyche to exhibit and it is privately, but not forgettably, embarrassing when the most often inevitable rude awakening arrives.
So my blessed/cursed imagination had brought me ecstatic comfort followed by brooding depression. At my lowest point, I considered it appropriate to rend my flesh. Always the devotee of pertinence, I did just that. What a pliant and pitiful creature I am!
But then! Then! The very same imagination that brought me these ridiculous notions and fantasies has offered me a new scene to set my self-made future in. I realized a new necessity and now that I can see this exposed requisite, I am returned to contentedness, mostly.
I went home to my parents for Easter Sunday. The day was fairly uneventful, but it was pleasant to be in their company. It consisted mostly of my mother and I watching old movies, my father hiding away in his office, and my brother sleeping. Together, my mother and I prepared forms for my doctor appointment, noting my own symptoms and health problems in my family.
I do not enjoy lying to or deceiving my parents. They are good, intelligent, loving, hard-working, and considerate people. So, when my mother asks of me what the marks on my arms are and I coyly respond with "They are burns. I was cooking.", I am not really lying. They are burns, some of them, and I have indeed cooked in the past. Of course, the most truthful statement would be "They are burns from cigarettes that I encourage people to put out on me. I enjoy it for some odd reason." I don't say this.
Additionally, while my mother and I are filling out the previously mentioned appointment form and we reach the question regarding my non-medical drug use and I answer "no", this is a lie. I am afraid and I do not feel all right. One day, perhaps when I graduate (with my Bachelors or my PhD, I wonder?), I will reveal everything. I will unleash with disgusting explicitness all the controversial aspects of my world that I had before kept tucked away out of sight from my family. I look forward to that day.
I feel like my life is under some enormous pressure or tension. There is something imperative about me and what I am doing with myself that must be relieved, though I have no idea how to do so. It is as if I am going through all the motions that I should, but without really putting thought and prided effort into them.
Enough of this blithering. Thursday evening, several friends and I are going to see VNV Nation in concert! This is very exciting. Infected Mushroom is also planning to grace our side of the country with a visit next month, right in the middle of finals week! It all comes down to whether or not I have an exam on the following Monday (my birthday, by the way). If not, I'm all over it. If so, well, it will be a hard decision.
My health is vaguely shaken. Tomorrow morning, I have my first rheumatologist appointment, since my blood test came back negative for Lyme disease. I am anxious for and fearful of professional judgment. I actually worry more that there is nothing particularly wrong with my body and that I'm simply being wimpy.
This relationship of mine is in utter confusion and discord. It's rather disappointing because, objectively, our personalities, interests, and priorities are very appropriate for each other. In fact, the problem is not between us, the individuals. Rather, there are major issues in this person's life that take complete priority over a relationship of the kind that we would otherwise be interested in. I have not been respectful of the necessity of this withdrawal from spending time together. I have been impatient and alone. With my feelings of solidarity come terrible imaginations.
It is this same imagination that had convinced me so thoroughly of the crystalline perfection of this configuration and rooted my devotion and care for it so deeply. This is not a new phenomenon for my psyche to exhibit and it is privately, but not forgettably, embarrassing when the most often inevitable rude awakening arrives.
So my blessed/cursed imagination had brought me ecstatic comfort followed by brooding depression. At my lowest point, I considered it appropriate to rend my flesh. Always the devotee of pertinence, I did just that. What a pliant and pitiful creature I am!
But then! Then! The very same imagination that brought me these ridiculous notions and fantasies has offered me a new scene to set my self-made future in. I realized a new necessity and now that I can see this exposed requisite, I am returned to contentedness, mostly.
I went home to my parents for Easter Sunday. The day was fairly uneventful, but it was pleasant to be in their company. It consisted mostly of my mother and I watching old movies, my father hiding away in his office, and my brother sleeping. Together, my mother and I prepared forms for my doctor appointment, noting my own symptoms and health problems in my family.
I do not enjoy lying to or deceiving my parents. They are good, intelligent, loving, hard-working, and considerate people. So, when my mother asks of me what the marks on my arms are and I coyly respond with "They are burns. I was cooking.", I am not really lying. They are burns, some of them, and I have indeed cooked in the past. Of course, the most truthful statement would be "They are burns from cigarettes that I encourage people to put out on me. I enjoy it for some odd reason." I don't say this.
Additionally, while my mother and I are filling out the previously mentioned appointment form and we reach the question regarding my non-medical drug use and I answer "no", this is a lie. I am afraid and I do not feel all right. One day, perhaps when I graduate (with my Bachelors or my PhD, I wonder?), I will reveal everything. I will unleash with disgusting explicitness all the controversial aspects of my world that I had before kept tucked away out of sight from my family. I look forward to that day.
I feel like my life is under some enormous pressure or tension. There is something imperative about me and what I am doing with myself that must be relieved, though I have no idea how to do so. It is as if I am going through all the motions that I should, but without really putting thought and prided effort into them.
Enough of this blithering. Thursday evening, several friends and I are going to see VNV Nation in concert! This is very exciting. Infected Mushroom is also planning to grace our side of the country with a visit next month, right in the middle of finals week! It all comes down to whether or not I have an exam on the following Monday (my birthday, by the way). If not, I'm all over it. If so, well, it will be a hard decision.