6:31 PM on a Wednesday. Well, shit.
I need to stop making my life a constant gamble between how smart I think I am vs. how unreliable and unstable I can be. This is something I've needed to do for some time now, of course. Because even when I just barely manage to pull through it always ends up feeling like a losing battle.
And it always comes down to, as stupid as it feels to admit it, just doing what I know I need to do- aversions and hang-ups be damned. There's that taunt I always hear in my head on my worse days, from my high school physics and math teacher. (The one who loved me and still always approaches me with some genuine, flattering greeting like, "Elizabeth! I was just thinking of you the other day! I was in my garden thinking of all the genius-people I know.") Shortly before I dropped out, I approached him tentatively about going over material I'd missed in a few of his classes. And he snaps, in a tone of voice that was totally out of character for the guy: "No, we already did that. Look, I know you've had a hard life and all, but you need to just get over it and move on." (He knew a lot of my history, because he'd caught me up on a semester of trig when I had to be homeschooled for awhile that one year.)
I was a bit stunned. And it mighta been a little harsh. But everytime I feel trapped by stuff that happened so damned long ago, I become nearly panic-stricken by the complete and utter realization of just how right he was. And this is four years later, heh.
But back along the lines of aversions, he contacted me again this weekend. Luckily, those out-of-the-blue conversation initiations aren't throwing me the way they used to. He's just as clever as always of course, so the repartee is great fun. But I can tell he's down, because all his jokes are along the lines of horrific crimes against humanity. And then I ask if he's gotten the hang of finals yet, and he tells me he's failing two classes so no not really, and he has to leave to go smoke now. And my heart sinks a little to hear that. But I'm sure he'll do fine. I'm sure I'll end up doing fine, too. I know he's always been able to overcome this stuff, in one way or another. And I'm still working on my coping mechanisms, but I'm figuring it out...albeit somewhat more slowly than I would like to. Everyone will be fine.
Fine, fine fine fine.... but fuck, that paper's not gonna write itself.
(Though that would be AWESOME in so many ways. Best idea ever....a self-writing paper. How about it, science?)
And it always comes down to, as stupid as it feels to admit it, just doing what I know I need to do- aversions and hang-ups be damned. There's that taunt I always hear in my head on my worse days, from my high school physics and math teacher. (The one who loved me and still always approaches me with some genuine, flattering greeting like, "Elizabeth! I was just thinking of you the other day! I was in my garden thinking of all the genius-people I know.") Shortly before I dropped out, I approached him tentatively about going over material I'd missed in a few of his classes. And he snaps, in a tone of voice that was totally out of character for the guy: "No, we already did that. Look, I know you've had a hard life and all, but you need to just get over it and move on." (He knew a lot of my history, because he'd caught me up on a semester of trig when I had to be homeschooled for awhile that one year.)
I was a bit stunned. And it mighta been a little harsh. But everytime I feel trapped by stuff that happened so damned long ago, I become nearly panic-stricken by the complete and utter realization of just how right he was. And this is four years later, heh.
But back along the lines of aversions, he contacted me again this weekend. Luckily, those out-of-the-blue conversation initiations aren't throwing me the way they used to. He's just as clever as always of course, so the repartee is great fun. But I can tell he's down, because all his jokes are along the lines of horrific crimes against humanity. And then I ask if he's gotten the hang of finals yet, and he tells me he's failing two classes so no not really, and he has to leave to go smoke now. And my heart sinks a little to hear that. But I'm sure he'll do fine. I'm sure I'll end up doing fine, too. I know he's always been able to overcome this stuff, in one way or another. And I'm still working on my coping mechanisms, but I'm figuring it out...albeit somewhat more slowly than I would like to. Everyone will be fine.
Fine, fine fine fine.... but fuck, that paper's not gonna write itself.
(Though that would be AWESOME in so many ways. Best idea ever....a self-writing paper. How about it, science?)