(no subject)
i woke up cussing this morning. cussed at the mirror. cussed in the shower. cussed out the cat underfoot. cussed while pulling out of the drive. cussed while marveling at the green grasses and yellow flowers lining the road.
there's no reason for it. nothing in particular that made me mad and deserves my ire. i just woke up with a scowl. but that's not new.
i grabbed a late bite at the diner with dicea because just yogurt and olives do not a healthy dinner make. she called me brave, too. i rejected the description. my brain just wouldn't accept it. i saw myself as more cowardly because my endurance was not as high as others this weekend. i had enough and ran away. she countered that self-care is brave. it was hard to listen to. my brain wouldn't accept the words, tried to jumble them, tried to forget them right away.
a filter tried to impose itself over my sensory intakes. this descriptor does not apply to me, therefore none of this applies to me. i lost the ability to focus on the material.
this happens with compliments, too. they are uncomfortable and i sidle away from them in my mind. no, you're just saying that. i won't listen to it and get my hopes up that you are being sincere because i know it can't be the case that that term applies to me. it is awful, this filter, because i am convincing myself that my friends and lovers are lying to my face or at least are brown-nosing and have a biased view while it is happening.
so i'm dancing around the filter trying to listen to my love and dodge my own arguments while attempting to appear engaged in the hopes that that will trick myself into actually being engaged with the material. *fish flopping on land, eye lolling, gills gasping*
does that make any sense?
there is an ideal of me in my head.
i want this ideal to be who i really am.
this ideal has certain characteristics that i value and would like to embody.
sometimes i believe i am the ideal or part of me does.
i know that i am not the ideal.
i know i am no where close to the ideal.
i know that to have an ideal in my mind i am inviting conflict between it and the real me who cannot live up to it's expectations.
sometimes my loves say i have a characteristic that the ideal has.
no matter that this characteristic may have a spectrum of intensity, they just have to use the word that describes the characteristic i value.
hope flutters that i may be like the ideal.
but i must crush it right away lest i think i could ever embody the ideal.
i can't. i know i'm no where close to the ideal.
so the characteristic must not be being correctly applied by my love.
even if they meant i demonstrated just a shade of it on the spectrum of intensity.
i know i am insulting the judgment of my love by rejecting their decision to use that word.
then that proves that i am even further from the ideal than i thought i was.
but i do trust my love.
i do trust their opinion and use of language.
i do trust that they had reason to use that word.
so i trust that, in this instance, maybe i am not the most reliable narrator.
it gets complicated sometimes.
there's no reason for it. nothing in particular that made me mad and deserves my ire. i just woke up with a scowl. but that's not new.
i grabbed a late bite at the diner with dicea because just yogurt and olives do not a healthy dinner make. she called me brave, too. i rejected the description. my brain just wouldn't accept it. i saw myself as more cowardly because my endurance was not as high as others this weekend. i had enough and ran away. she countered that self-care is brave. it was hard to listen to. my brain wouldn't accept the words, tried to jumble them, tried to forget them right away.
a filter tried to impose itself over my sensory intakes. this descriptor does not apply to me, therefore none of this applies to me. i lost the ability to focus on the material.
this happens with compliments, too. they are uncomfortable and i sidle away from them in my mind. no, you're just saying that. i won't listen to it and get my hopes up that you are being sincere because i know it can't be the case that that term applies to me. it is awful, this filter, because i am convincing myself that my friends and lovers are lying to my face or at least are brown-nosing and have a biased view while it is happening.
so i'm dancing around the filter trying to listen to my love and dodge my own arguments while attempting to appear engaged in the hopes that that will trick myself into actually being engaged with the material. *fish flopping on land, eye lolling, gills gasping*
does that make any sense?
there is an ideal of me in my head.
i want this ideal to be who i really am.
this ideal has certain characteristics that i value and would like to embody.
sometimes i believe i am the ideal or part of me does.
i know that i am not the ideal.
i know i am no where close to the ideal.
i know that to have an ideal in my mind i am inviting conflict between it and the real me who cannot live up to it's expectations.
sometimes my loves say i have a characteristic that the ideal has.
no matter that this characteristic may have a spectrum of intensity, they just have to use the word that describes the characteristic i value.
hope flutters that i may be like the ideal.
but i must crush it right away lest i think i could ever embody the ideal.
i can't. i know i'm no where close to the ideal.
so the characteristic must not be being correctly applied by my love.
even if they meant i demonstrated just a shade of it on the spectrum of intensity.
i know i am insulting the judgment of my love by rejecting their decision to use that word.
then that proves that i am even further from the ideal than i thought i was.
but i do trust my love.
i do trust their opinion and use of language.
i do trust that they had reason to use that word.
so i trust that, in this instance, maybe i am not the most reliable narrator.
it gets complicated sometimes.