"... I hope for better in November..."
i feel tired but i don't feel like i can sleep yet. i'm burning some CDs and i will not rest until they're through.
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i have resolved that i am in the anger stage of my mourning. i also have been reminded that i have abandonment issues. in order to deal with these new developments i have set out to writing in my journal again... my actual journal. i've been journaling everytime im in class now... it gives me something to focus on in a place where i feel a lack of motivation. it feels fucking great.
as for my anger... this is something that journaling will not mend, unless it means sticking my pen in someone's eye. yes, this anger is too violent to just write it out. i've never considered myself a very violent person... i tend to give people a small whack to the arm from time to time, but i've never been in an actual fight. i dont believe its in my nature to do so, but who knows?
side note - i exclaim with energy only the Count on Sesame Street would exert:
ONE CD BURNED! AH AH AH!
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so i went to the batting cages. i was reminded of the days when i actually played sports... however, ive never been really into hitting balls with sticks. heh. i didnt know how id take to it.
i stepped up to the imaginary plate and waited for the ball to be launched at me.
when i made contact with the ball it felt pretty good. as i continued to hit ball after ball... it began to feel amazing. with each pitch aimed at me i thought of one of things i was angry at and just swung. it felt good to "hit that shit" as jackie would say. no not good... it felt phenomenal. wow was it amazing. just thinking about it makes me smile.
the release of anger was just what i needed... plus, i actually found that i feel somewhat good at hitting the shit out of baseballs. i made contact pretty good most of the time... i need some tips on my form just to make sure i don't hurt myself... but i feel ive found another talent within me that is hidden no longer. long live the batting cages!
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i've also discovered that my low self esteem is a big problem... i feel like it is like a piece of clothing i wear that i dont even like, i just wear it because i've worn it for so long that i don't know how to remove it without removing myself. well, i dont like it one bit and i want it out of here as soon as possible.
i understand i have to practice patience. twenty-one years of repeated punishment to my self esteem is not something that can be easily undone. but i realize that my low self esteem has slowly seeped into all my baggage, like a broken bottle of cheap cologne within a neatly (or not so neatly) packed suitcase. it stinks.
so now i am attempting to mend the wounds i have inflicted upon myself time and time again. i feel like some of my healing has already helped, as i actually spoke up today at a staff meeting several times. i also met with deacon chet and talked with him about most of the things im feeling these days. i feel my actions today showed that i am important too dammit and i have important things to say at my work. i actually felt like i could promote some change there today... this power feels good. so i will continue to work on myself.
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i cried again this evening. i realize how comfortable ive become with my tears... im not embarrassed by them in any way shape or form and i now see them as a sign of courage and not weakness.
excuse me: TWO CDS BURNED! AH AH AH!
i probably will keep on crying often, as my tears are a form of my love and care. i miss a lot of people... people who are still alive and people who've gone to glory... i have a tendency to miss those who mean very much to me. i become attached very easily. why? i dont know. i dont believe this is a bad thing because i dont feel like im very needy... its just difficult sometimes to care so much. and i cant help it. it's just who i am. its god's fault for making so many beautiful people and putting them in my life.
i guess i just want people to miss me too. just as much as i miss them. thats why i fancy the notion of leaving sometimes... because in a stupid way, i hope it would affect someone... because then that means they care. they care about me enough to miss me.
but i know people care for me. i know i affect people. ive watched several people jump through several hoops just to stay in my life. i wonder how many people can say that. i guess i just spend so much time thinking about how my life is without certain people, that i wonder what their life would be without me. i worry i will be forgotten because i can never truly fathom being incredibly important to someone.
heh. these thoughts and feelings always make me feel like such a child.
i continue to seek new discoveries to help with these insecurities.
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thank you brownie mix for visiting cemeteries with me. your energy and warmth was fuel for my soul that day.
yes i visited my fathers grave for the first time in a long while. its nice to leave flowers there. they sit there while im away, small tokens of my deep care for my father, sometimes soaking up the tears i leave on the ground. this time there were no tears... only prayers and hope.
i visited the cemetery where i want to be buried as well. got to visit my grandma and a few other relatives.
i was also reminded of a routine i used to follow when i visited there. my father has a friend, Tim Quigley, who he knew in the army. Unfortunately, Quigley was killed in the war. I began visiting this young man's grave as a young girl with my parents. i would leave him whatever flowers i could because he never had any. it made me sad to think he would be forgotten. plus i knew that my father hated cemeteries and he rarely got to leave flowers for his friend because of this.
eventually i couldnt leave without paying a visit to Quigley's grave. at one point i even named my pet turtle after the man. i never knew him at all... but this young man has had a profound affect upon my life. i still visit his grave now. i always say hi and picture my father and he drinking together in some bar in heaven. (heh. a bar in heaven. hahaha)
i write this not because i want attention for it. but because i think its funny that i cant even explain why i always visit his grave, even now... funny how we do things we cant explain. its just something i must do... and something i enjoy doing... and i will continue.
i even care for someone ive never met. i dont even know what he looks like. heh. funny.
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ive written more than i thought i would. but now alas:
THREE CDS BURNED! AH AH AH!
i must go to bed now... but for those of you reading this... know that YOU are one of the people that i miss.
oyasumi.