"and half, a mad desire to mend the socks"
what is this sick/sinking feeling I feel when I hear about things other people are doing? it's not pandemic-specific, it happened before, I think maybe pandemic gave me a respite, or the opportunity to be judgmental instead of jealous? We affectionately mock Nonsense sometimes for being A Participatory Hound, by which we mean she always wants to be included or at least aware of everything that goes on, and I know that's the nature of dogs (and people) but she seems extra concerned about being left out or behind and I suspect that's part of it, the desire to be included or invited, too much awareness of the spaces I don't belong or am not wanted. And some of this is low self-esteem, seeing the ways I'm not measuring up to other people's lives, even if mine is rich and full (which maybe it is, but it takes a lot more security/self-esteem to feel that way than I currently and possibly have ever possessed.) And some of it is about specific relationships, wanting to be part of other people's family units and not being. I know I'm not part, I know that's not how they roll, they never have and I'm almost 100% certain that'll never change and I only say almost for the same reason I say agnostic, I don't have enough faith for certainty in anything, including absence.
There's something about poly here too, about everything that moves is a wolf, this mismatch of wanting more and more people in my life who are on the safe and trustworthy side of the line, but having a hard time remembering to be okay with them being with people who aren't on the safe side of my line, because it's not transitive, but also not wanting to be left out, even though time and space are limited and everyone is always leaving someone out of something. And fuck, it loops back around to ideas of family, and the ways I've tried to create it and the ways I've failed to create it, failed to make spaces for myself, failed to appreciate what I do have instead of seeing the things I don't.
blah blah blah. I tell my therapist that I'm tired of my own feelings, that I'm bored by them and it's true and it feels like an unearned luxury to be at a place where I can say that. I'm frozen in place, not knowing which way to move or if I have the wherewithal so to do. I'm sad and scared and stuck, and it's my own fault and I can't get out of my own way. I love my household, I love my house, and still, I feel like my brain is trying to eat itself at every turn, I'm setting my own pit traps, and I'm not surprised when I fall in them, but that doesn't make me any less disappointed in myself. I feel like I should be Doing Something, but don't know what that thing is. I can force things to be fine, I'm good at that, everything is always eventually fine, even when it's a gritted-teeth kind of fine.
My knee was extra sore this morning, I suspect because of some combination of sleeping weird and trying to walk on sand when we took the dogs to the sekrit beach, and then it locked up on me and I almost fell down the stairs, so I'm going to send the doctor a message on Monday. I suspect it means it's time for an MRI and/or PT and I don't want either, but I also don't want to deal with the pain or be concerned about going for walks because even if it doesn't feel true or helpful at the moment, I know I'm in a better mood the more time I spend out in the Fells. So I should get back to that somehow.
You're welcome to comment on LJ, but I'd rather you leave a comment on the Dreamwidth version of this entry. The current comment count is
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There's something about poly here too, about everything that moves is a wolf, this mismatch of wanting more and more people in my life who are on the safe and trustworthy side of the line, but having a hard time remembering to be okay with them being with people who aren't on the safe side of my line, because it's not transitive, but also not wanting to be left out, even though time and space are limited and everyone is always leaving someone out of something. And fuck, it loops back around to ideas of family, and the ways I've tried to create it and the ways I've failed to create it, failed to make spaces for myself, failed to appreciate what I do have instead of seeing the things I don't.
blah blah blah. I tell my therapist that I'm tired of my own feelings, that I'm bored by them and it's true and it feels like an unearned luxury to be at a place where I can say that. I'm frozen in place, not knowing which way to move or if I have the wherewithal so to do. I'm sad and scared and stuck, and it's my own fault and I can't get out of my own way. I love my household, I love my house, and still, I feel like my brain is trying to eat itself at every turn, I'm setting my own pit traps, and I'm not surprised when I fall in them, but that doesn't make me any less disappointed in myself. I feel like I should be Doing Something, but don't know what that thing is. I can force things to be fine, I'm good at that, everything is always eventually fine, even when it's a gritted-teeth kind of fine.
My knee was extra sore this morning, I suspect because of some combination of sleeping weird and trying to walk on sand when we took the dogs to the sekrit beach, and then it locked up on me and I almost fell down the stairs, so I'm going to send the doctor a message on Monday. I suspect it means it's time for an MRI and/or PT and I don't want either, but I also don't want to deal with the pain or be concerned about going for walks because even if it doesn't feel true or helpful at the moment, I know I'm in a better mood the more time I spend out in the Fells. So I should get back to that somehow.
You're welcome to comment on LJ, but I'd rather you leave a comment on the Dreamwidth version of this entry. The current comment count is
.