(no subject)
It is a Saturday night, I weigh ~123 lbs, I spent the day climbing (poorly, because I had zero energy), and at the Apple store for David's computer (meh). I am now waiting on some brownies (excitement) to be delivered and reading The Politics of Experience (difficult to understand his mental path- the way he links ideas together-, but I really want to finish it. I just finished watching Girl, Interrupted. It's an interesting movie.
Favorite parts include:
"I'm not dead... not really."
"When you don't want to feel anything, the idea of death, of nothingness, is like paradise."
"There's too many buttons in the world. There's too many buttons and they're just-- there's way too many just begging to be pressed, they're just begging to be pressed, you know? They're just - they're just begging to be pressed, and it makes me wonder, it really makes me fucking wonder, why doesn't anyone ever press mine? Why am I so neglected? Why doesn't anyone reach in and rip out the truth and tell me that I'm a fucking whore, or that my parents wish I were dead?"
Refusing to feel emotions-- I'm guilty at times, sometimes I fear more than I realize--, where does it come from? Fear? For me, it seems to come from a desire for people not to be able to hurt you. Like, I used to be too vulnerable. I trusted too much. I wanted and needed too much from people, and see what happened? I remember being so desperate and scared and sad and alone all the time. I needed everything to be okay, and the world confused the fuck out of me, and everything was so loud and chaotic and everyone was *mad*. I remember crouching in the hallway, listening to Mom and Dad yell at Megan, yelling, yelling, yelling. And I was so worried. It broke my heart. And they would take it out on themselves and everyone around, which included me a lot.
I've been thinking about the past, lately. I think it's a good idea to remember just how fucked up shit was, so that I can stop it from affecting me too much as an adult. Refusing to trust is perhaps a symptom of how I grew up... but people aren't trustworthy. Remember when you were with Drew, how you refused to tell him anything private, because you knew he'd tell other people when you broke up? You were right in that course of action. The argument, of course, could be made that not trusting people leads them to act in untrustworthy manners. I don't know how much I buy that though.
I don't know where the line is between pathological lack of trust in others and wise lack of trust. I don't know where that distinction lies, or how to figure it out. Because that would require experimenting with trusting other people, and I don't trust them enough to give that a shot. Because I think I'm too smart for that.
I think it's so fucked up that no one helped me that first time I was bad tripping, and that Megan didn't help me that other night. I finally had a "good" trip last weekend. It was so much less fulfilling. I remember, though, that I was able to have a better trip because I'm happier with my life than I was. But people... god. Intra-experience. I don't get it. I don't get what other people are doing with their lives. I don't get that I have this *life* to do anything I want with. I can't really grasp that concept.