Saturday, April 19, 2008


Right now I'm eating a peanut butter sandwich on expensive bread that I bought quite awhile ago and never ate, and I can't decide if the white powder is flour or mold. The expiration date was 4 days ago. I'm also having a glass of milk from a $5 gallon of organic milk that I've only had about half of, and it expires tomorrow. The milk also tastes a little sour. My cat is stalking invisible bugs on my rug.

I can't help but feel all of this is a metaphor for my life.

Today as my cleaning expedition continued I came across a whole cache of notebooks. Some were from school, some were half-hearted journals with, like, 2 pages written in them. One was a dream journal I actually bothered to keep for about an hour. That was fun to read, and I did recall having those dreams as I read about them. But I came across a single sheet of paper I remember filling out, but not why I was filling it out. Was it for school, for therapy?

Not sure.

Anyway, it had some questions, and some answers put down by myself.

Question 1: Best part of being in love?
My response: Realizing that there are people out there I can connect with.

Question 2: Worst part of being in love?
My response: insecurity.

Question 3: What do you let slide?
My response: Indifference.

Question 4: How do you stop taking care of yourself?
My response: I put his emotional needs before mine.

Question 5: Survival Mechanisms?
My responses: ignoring hurts; submitting; making excuses.

Gawd! How depressing. At least I've moved beyond that mind-set a bit, if only a bit. It's funny how your last relationship seems to shape and form every relationship you've ever had (or will ever have!), and suddenly the dynamic of that relationship seems to be the model for all of them. At least until the next one comes along.

Never mind that maybe your dysfunction was just a function of that particular relationship, and his inability to communicate. Or express feelings. Or act remotely interested in anything you had to say. Or be nice.

Yeah, thank God I've moved beyond that. I guess sometimes you have to realize how badly you're being treated by someone you're in love with to realize how well you believe you deserve to be treated.

Tonight I found some little trinket, bead-like things on my windowsill that I've never seen before. I've lived in this room for almost 2 years. They're square and metal and have letters engraved on them.


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