(no subject)
I feel like a sacrificial lamb sometimes when I go through the motions of getting dressed, putting on makeup, perfume, and all that jazz. Normally I adore this. Other days, I wonder what perverse altar of sexuality I am laying myself on every time I do this. I don't mean it in the sense of sleeping with someone as much as a metaphoric perception, some concession or... I don't quite know.
Heading out to a cocktail party tonight. I know I probably shouldn't go, after what happened last time, but hell. I need a night out, and it should be a lot of fun. It's been a very difficult week for me, with Charlie's memorial and severe stress at work pounding down, with no one I can really talk to who knows enough about my life right now to genuinely help. Some folks can help me deal with Charlie's death, others with the work stress, still others with the most recent betrayal in my life. (Why, why, why do the people I care about most like that backstab motion so much? And why can I not stop caring about them, regardless, or stop trusting people? Oh, woe be me. *insert drama and angst here*). Used to be I would talk to Lee about it, but I can't really do that anymore. I've changed too much in a short time - for the better, but also in a way that makes it impossible for me to bare my soul to him ever again, even (or especially?) as a friend. Then again, this entire journal is largely a forum for angst. I don't write here when I am happy, I write here when I am bored and/or severely upset, pissed off, what have you.
Right now I'm just really hurt, though. I'm sorry in advance to all you folks who don't know what the hell I'm talking about here - but those of you who do, it's happened again, like you told me it would, and if I hear anyone say I told you so I'm going to beat you up. Or cry a lot. Or both. But I can't believe that people are essentially bad, no matter what happens or how bitter these betrayals are. (Are you listening, Oleg? I still think you are a decent human being underneath that horridness you've come to call your life. Dammit, you are so much more than this! Why do you insist on destroying yourself time and time again?)
I've tried to talk to a couple of folks, but the words get stuck in my throat and I find myself blabbering silly inanities at them, getting unduly upset when they don't magically/telepathically pick up the hint that something is up. Oh well. I'll figure it out one day - I still have so very very very much to learn. Can't even deny myself the admittedly immature punt of cursing at the coup du jour in my profile. Good god, it hurts, though. Like ten knives stuck in my stomach, and my stomach filled with lead.
Heading out to a cocktail party tonight. I know I probably shouldn't go, after what happened last time, but hell. I need a night out, and it should be a lot of fun. It's been a very difficult week for me, with Charlie's memorial and severe stress at work pounding down, with no one I can really talk to who knows enough about my life right now to genuinely help. Some folks can help me deal with Charlie's death, others with the work stress, still others with the most recent betrayal in my life. (Why, why, why do the people I care about most like that backstab motion so much? And why can I not stop caring about them, regardless, or stop trusting people? Oh, woe be me. *insert drama and angst here*). Used to be I would talk to Lee about it, but I can't really do that anymore. I've changed too much in a short time - for the better, but also in a way that makes it impossible for me to bare my soul to him ever again, even (or especially?) as a friend. Then again, this entire journal is largely a forum for angst. I don't write here when I am happy, I write here when I am bored and/or severely upset, pissed off, what have you.
Right now I'm just really hurt, though. I'm sorry in advance to all you folks who don't know what the hell I'm talking about here - but those of you who do, it's happened again, like you told me it would, and if I hear anyone say I told you so I'm going to beat you up. Or cry a lot. Or both. But I can't believe that people are essentially bad, no matter what happens or how bitter these betrayals are. (Are you listening, Oleg? I still think you are a decent human being underneath that horridness you've come to call your life. Dammit, you are so much more than this! Why do you insist on destroying yourself time and time again?)
I've tried to talk to a couple of folks, but the words get stuck in my throat and I find myself blabbering silly inanities at them, getting unduly upset when they don't magically/telepathically pick up the hint that something is up. Oh well. I'll figure it out one day - I still have so very very very much to learn. Can't even deny myself the admittedly immature punt of cursing at the coup du jour in my profile. Good god, it hurts, though. Like ten knives stuck in my stomach, and my stomach filled with lead.