(no subject)
Adam is at a wedding. Lame.
I have this inherent need to be constantly entertained or else I accidentally start thinking, and I hate that. It usually works okay for me because Adam has a lot of free time so he can keep me talking about junk so I don't sit around making myself even more crazy. If only he didn't have friends, he'd be perfect.
Tonight as I nervously pace between computer/kitchen/bedroom/kitchen/computer, I realize something that I guess I always knew, but was afraid to say aloud. I am afraid of ghosts. That's why I get so freaked out when someone I know dies. I'm still having a lot of weird issues due to the untimely death of my niece. Aside from the normal missing her, in the back of my head there's the fear that I'm being "watched." That is not comforting to me. It was way worse when my mom died. I wouldn't masturbate or even linger in the shower for like...months. To this day I feel an eerie chill when I have to walk into her old bedroom because I know she died right there on the floor. Like I could walking over the very spot my mother died with like a basket of laundry...just feels weird to me.
I think it all started when I was five years old and my gramma died. My grandmother was not the loving show-you-how-to-knit type. She was pretty mean from what I can remember and she used to chase me in her wheelchair and slap my legs with a flyswatter anytime she thought I was being bad. Sometimes I wasn't even doing anything and she'd just hit me anyway! Not a nice lady. Then she died in her bedroom one night and I was too young to really fully understand death...I just knew she wasn't around anymore. Then one day I was sitting in the hallway coloring on the walls, which I shouldn't have been doing, but I was a kid. I felt this weird feeling and I looked down the hallway towards the front door of my house, and there they were. My grandmother's eyes staring at me from the front door. I dropped the crayons and went yelling and screaming for my mother. I never told her why I was crying, like...they already knew I was fucked up, I didn't need to add ghosts to the equation. It turned out the eyes were actually two knotholes, just marks in the wood, but they always haunted me up until the day we moved out of that house when I was 15.
To this day, I'm still creeped out as fuck about the prospect of death. My sister asked me to sleep over the days following Crystal's death and I seriously didn't get a wink of sleep. Every noise was like a veiled threat or something. It was pretty awful. I mean, I know it's totally like insane to think this way. Plus, like how vain, right? Why would anyone even wanna watch my boring life? I dunno, it's just weird. People that don't know you come up to you after funerals and say things like "Don't worry, I'm sure your mom is watching over you. She's still with us." Oh thanks, it's not like I wanted to sleep tonite or anything. Yuck. I love my mom and it's not like I think she'd come to me as some violent image and try to ruin my life, but I just don't like the idea of someone I love seeing me do up to 50% of my daily wrong-doings. I am a loner and that includes the company of the spirit realm.
I wish there was some way to know what it's really like after someone dies. Like as soon as someone dies, someone has to drop the "they're in a better place" line on you like that really helps. Is there such a thing as Heaven? How does anyone know? What if you die and then you're just bones in a box and that's it? What if Heaven does exist and everyone who believes really does get in? That's far too many people. I don't wanna end up living in some shitty apartment in the afterlife bitching about the price of rent. I still believe in God to a certain extent and I'd like to keep that going, but it gets hard when you think too much. It was a lot easier for me to accept the idea before life totally fucked me over and I became a cynic. It's like I can't even believe that one day I might have a career and a mortgage, so how am I supposed to believe they're saving some spot for me in Heaven? I dunno...life is so damn weird. Everything's a mystery and I hate surprises.
I am really rambling. How long do weddings last anyway? Jesus.
I have this inherent need to be constantly entertained or else I accidentally start thinking, and I hate that. It usually works okay for me because Adam has a lot of free time so he can keep me talking about junk so I don't sit around making myself even more crazy. If only he didn't have friends, he'd be perfect.
Tonight as I nervously pace between computer/kitchen/bedroom/kitchen/computer, I realize something that I guess I always knew, but was afraid to say aloud. I am afraid of ghosts. That's why I get so freaked out when someone I know dies. I'm still having a lot of weird issues due to the untimely death of my niece. Aside from the normal missing her, in the back of my head there's the fear that I'm being "watched." That is not comforting to me. It was way worse when my mom died. I wouldn't masturbate or even linger in the shower for like...months. To this day I feel an eerie chill when I have to walk into her old bedroom because I know she died right there on the floor. Like I could walking over the very spot my mother died with like a basket of laundry...just feels weird to me.
I think it all started when I was five years old and my gramma died. My grandmother was not the loving show-you-how-to-knit type. She was pretty mean from what I can remember and she used to chase me in her wheelchair and slap my legs with a flyswatter anytime she thought I was being bad. Sometimes I wasn't even doing anything and she'd just hit me anyway! Not a nice lady. Then she died in her bedroom one night and I was too young to really fully understand death...I just knew she wasn't around anymore. Then one day I was sitting in the hallway coloring on the walls, which I shouldn't have been doing, but I was a kid. I felt this weird feeling and I looked down the hallway towards the front door of my house, and there they were. My grandmother's eyes staring at me from the front door. I dropped the crayons and went yelling and screaming for my mother. I never told her why I was crying, like...they already knew I was fucked up, I didn't need to add ghosts to the equation. It turned out the eyes were actually two knotholes, just marks in the wood, but they always haunted me up until the day we moved out of that house when I was 15.
To this day, I'm still creeped out as fuck about the prospect of death. My sister asked me to sleep over the days following Crystal's death and I seriously didn't get a wink of sleep. Every noise was like a veiled threat or something. It was pretty awful. I mean, I know it's totally like insane to think this way. Plus, like how vain, right? Why would anyone even wanna watch my boring life? I dunno, it's just weird. People that don't know you come up to you after funerals and say things like "Don't worry, I'm sure your mom is watching over you. She's still with us." Oh thanks, it's not like I wanted to sleep tonite or anything. Yuck. I love my mom and it's not like I think she'd come to me as some violent image and try to ruin my life, but I just don't like the idea of someone I love seeing me do up to 50% of my daily wrong-doings. I am a loner and that includes the company of the spirit realm.
I wish there was some way to know what it's really like after someone dies. Like as soon as someone dies, someone has to drop the "they're in a better place" line on you like that really helps. Is there such a thing as Heaven? How does anyone know? What if you die and then you're just bones in a box and that's it? What if Heaven does exist and everyone who believes really does get in? That's far too many people. I don't wanna end up living in some shitty apartment in the afterlife bitching about the price of rent. I still believe in God to a certain extent and I'd like to keep that going, but it gets hard when you think too much. It was a lot easier for me to accept the idea before life totally fucked me over and I became a cynic. It's like I can't even believe that one day I might have a career and a mortgage, so how am I supposed to believe they're saving some spot for me in Heaven? I dunno...life is so damn weird. Everything's a mystery and I hate surprises.
I am really rambling. How long do weddings last anyway? Jesus.