it's all in your head. no, really.

So, I am astounded at how much human's make up. Yep, make up. You know, make-believe, play pretend, etc. I watch people do it all the time, yet when it comes to the crunch, I don't even notice myself doing it. All of the things I waffled about in the last few days (posts); those feelings were real. I'm sure you can make up feelings, but what I felt was real. I did feel rejected, lonely, at a loss of what to do, and whatever else was there. But how did I arise at those feelings?

A curious idea to delve into, given people have been discussing this for years. And, just as a warning, I might introduce some abstract concepts here. Basically, the reason I was feeling hurt and dejected like I was, was my own fault. Purely. I have none to blame for my misery but myself. I interpreted a whole series of words and actions in a way that made me believe that I was about to get dumped. Of course, on the other side it is obvious, knowing now that was far from happening.

My brain is in possession of a rather stupid and very annoying idea called 'I'm not wanted, everybody is going to leave me'. It completely rules my life. And sometimes I forget. When I forget, I go crazy. That is, I drive myself crazy. So someone didn't call me during one day. In reality, so what? That's actually a normal occurrence. Only my sweet little idea steps in and shouts 'He doesn't want you anymore!!!! Quick, to Plan B!' Once it's nestled it's little claws into my mind, there's no going back. Everything gets seen as more evidence of the above idea, and so we move on to Plan C, D, E, etc.

The key point to this theory is that everyone does it. So while I was sitting in a cafe, thinking that the person sitting opposite me was completely uninterested in my story, and therefore (thanks to my little idea) that the person did not want to be with me anymore, said person was actually on another wavelength completely. This person was in fact so concerned about his finances (which were in something of a dire situation) that he could barely remember to drink his coffee, let alone acknowledge whatever I was talking about.

It goes on from there, only getting worse; every situation or side-long glance becoming insurmountable evidence for my charming idea. Whether it was that I didn't get invited to that something I didn't actually want to go to anyway, or simply 'he looked at me funny' (which in itself is an obvious case of perception deception), it's all downhill.

Luckily for me, said person understands this concept, and between the two of us we manage to bring each other back down to earth and a sense of reality. If it can ever be called that. At least we get each other out of our own head games. Then I can look back, see how it all unfolded, and even laugh at the absurdity.

The sad thing is, I watch my friends around me doing very similar things, only they have no way of getting out of it. I offer words of advice, but I think perhaps the idea that 'what I see is the truth' is far too enjoyable for people to step out of. Or maybe it is just such a huge part of humanity that it is hard to dispell? Either way, it causes pain and misery, as I have clearly given example to. I wish all the people in my life could see it as such, but sadly this is not the case.

I, for one, am glad that I have this view. I have, obviously, just made it all up. But do you know what? It works for me, and it doesn't hurt anybody, so I'm going to stick with it.

(thanks lalaland and opticalillusions for the images)

the show must go on?

After the thought train of last night, I decided that today I would not contact said person. At all. I wondered if perhaps they would notice the lack of attention? They will be forced to see me tomorrow night, so what is one day in the scheme of things?

God, I wish it were so easy. This deliberate withdrawing is driving me crazy! At least I'm seeing how attached I am. Although, that's useless information. I already knew that I was this entwined; I still haven't figured how to remedy it, or even if I want to. When I'm not participating in this self-deluding exercise, I estimate I think about this person a few times a day. Today, I'd say it's been every thirty seconds (excluding the three hour presentation at work - that was obviously interesting enough to hold my attention!).

Who knew it was so hard to disengage with just one person. It's not like I'm pulling away from the entire human race; I could imagine that would be very hard. This is one person, only one! And yes, it is someone I hold very close to my heart, but it wasn't like this when I moved out of home for the first time (for example). I missed my mum terribly. I probably thought about her every day. Even then, I only spoke to her every few days, as I still do now. How the hell did this one little soul wrap his claws around not only my heart, but also my brain?

I think some part of me must take great pleasure in driving myself mad. This idea, this withholding of contact, which seemed so wise at the time, is making me crazy. Right now I am using every grain of willpower to my name not to 'call and say hi!'. The sad thing, I guess, is that I have felt this before. The insatiable need just to hear the voice; the reassurance of that particular intonation. In this second, I want so badly to be able to disengage and not care. A mirror to how I have felt. That was the purpose of the exercise, wasn't it? To make the other person feel how I've been feeling?

It's possible I haven't even been missed. Maybe I'm too demanding in general? The constant fear I have is of not being wanted. I think I would rather be despised. At least that way there would be a reason; a logic that I would, despite the inevitable emotional turmoil, be able to understand. This waning of interest is like murder to me. A slow and painful death.

Which then leads me to notice that I am likely to do something stupid. Act out in some way to cause one of two results: get attention or upset and enrage. Either would be better than this current tide of raised eyebrows and sighing indifference.

reflection on rejection

Do you know what I dislike intensely? The feeling of not being wanted any more. It's popping up in my life at the moment, sadly with some people I love most. I've been hesitant to even admit it to myself, because just the thought of it breaks my heart just a little. What a sop I am.

It's that whole feeling of not being included. It's like, when you stop being invited to things, or are clearly invited out of politeness. Or the day you feel like they're no longer interested in your life, and that you sharing what you're up to is actually boring them to death.

How can this all change so quickly? How can you go from being the most important person in someone's life, to being thought of as weird simply for calling to say hi? When did the 'I love you, see you tomorrow' turn into 'I'll catch you around'? I don't know if this has been going on for a while and I've just been in denial, or if it really has only changed recently.

I am writing from the heart here, because, let it be known, I am a little distressed over this. Normally I'd make an effort to make a post eloquent and possibly even witty, but I really don't have the strength today. My spirit is a little broken. I guess there's the age-old feeling of rejection, mixed in with some WTF IS GOING ON HERE? Add a dollop of, when did life get so confusing and wrong feeling, and I think that about sums me up.

There is nothing more to add tonight, not really. Just a wish that things would work out, and for the best. It just doesn't look like it will at the moment.

(thanks to firenzegold for the image)

some rather uninteresting night time wanderings

I'm going to start this post off by saying that I probably shouldn't broadcast my thoughts all over the internet. However, I have come to a conclusion as to why blogging is really great. I do a lot of writing, and I have a lot of really great friends. When I have a problem, issue or just something on my mind, I generally go to one of those two options. Writing is great, I can be purely self-expressed, not have to worry about anyone else's opinion, and I can just write what ever there is that needs to be written. Friends are also great, (as I'm sure you all know) because they offer things that I would never have seen by myself.

The problem with writing is that I write to myself, in a sense. Nothing really gets resolved, and I often go round and round in circles. Friends, on the other hand, will often help resolve things. This is not always ideal. Sometimes I just need to rant, blow off steam, talk it out, etc. And in their sweet way they will offer advice that I really didn't want anyway.

This is why blogging is wonderful. Thanks to Twitter and Facebook, I know that this will be read by someone. So I'm not writing to myself and driving myself crazy. At the same time, the unkown readers of this post are like the non-existent silent friend who simply lets me rave until there is nothing left to rave about. Blogging is my new happy medium between my two favourite outlets. Sometimes we all need to just say stuff, probably to no real purpose, right?

What I really wanted to write about, was love, I guess. Being stuck in the mindset of consistently asking myself, 'what is love?', I realise that this might not really be about love at all. Apologies in advance, my invisible friends.

What do you do when you get to the point of boredom? (Remember, these are all rhetorical questions.) Not bored with the person, but bored of the relationship. What do you do when it feels completely pointless, useless and directionless? Once, it was self-perpetuating, self-generating; it just happened, and it just worked. Now it is hard, and confusing, and just generally boring. (Sorry to repeat the adjective, but there's really no other word quite as fitting.) I'm sure there are people who would say, get out now, while you can! But at the same time, isn't it all part of it? Just something to work through, together?

I know sometimes I get bored of a friend. Then we don't hang out as much, don't talk as much, but after a while we're back to normal. I guess you just get over the boredom. Or something like that. Why can't it be the same with a relationship? I thought maybe removing myself would help, similar to what happens with a friend. Hence my disappearance over the summer. Since being back in the city though, it seems to have gotten worse. Also, as a side note, I realise I am being very indirect here, but you know, people know people, and word spreads fast, and all of that stuff.

I just can't really be bothered any more. And goodness knows that sounds so lazy and pathetic (which are both words I would easily ascribe to myself in many cases), but I just can't stand the tedium. The sense of standing still in the same spot for days, weeks, months. The idea of my emotions bubbling down until they are nothing but a trickling stream in a wide desert. The possibility that I could grow careless; as in, not caring. All of that sounds awful, and not what I want! I just don't know how to tear it up, let loose and send this thing flying. Considering this is not a self-imposed limbo, but rather a two person tango into oblivion, I don't know how to deal with it.

I don't know how to re-invigorate us. The fact that he's in his own half way house, the one called: do I want this or not? doesn't help. It makes me nervous and worried, and often makes me say and do very silly things. I sure as hell don't want to lose him, but the more he dallies, the more I get scared and the more I push him away. It's one giant, shitty downward spiral.

Well, folks, thanks for listening. Sorry for the absence of literary genius, or rather, the use of good vocabulary and grammar, but it's just where I am tonight. Luckily tomorrow's class is editing. I think I need it! Who doesn't want a bit of structure in their language, or their life?

(thanks my love poems for the pic)

lollipops please!

My class today requires I publish something in regards to the history of publishing. Sigh. At least I'm here, on my blog, publishing. As my fellow classmate said, how can you even write about something so boring? I would agree, although, look! I have written two lines already! 

So far (that is, two weeks into Semester 1) this class has been a refresher on last year's publishing class. Well, refresher is a tad generous. I've looked at more useless websites today than my brain has room for. I've been following Pobjie's Oscar commentary on Twitter. I don't even like the Oscars! Our lecturer is lovely, though, and her sympathetic smile tells me she knows how dreadful this really is. I bet she'd like to know how the Oscar's are going. 

It is reminiscent of high school, and even primary school, though my vague memory struggles to recollect that distant past. Has anyone really forgotten 'Australian History Term'? Which would have been an okay class, possibly even interesting, if we hadn't repeated it every single year for 6 (or more) years. Don't get me wrong, it is important to learn our country's history, but how dumb did they think we were? The topics were never extrapolated on, it was just awful repetitive tedium.

Equally, the history of publishing is a necessary topic in a publishing degree. Last year, the subject was actually interesting because I knew nothing about it. The point of studying, right? Learn something you didn't already know? The fact that we're 'learning' it again just bores me to tears. How can we learn something we've already learnt, anyway? And trust me, I've been listening, and I have not heard anything new. 

Hopefully it will improve. Surely there will be new facts, informative and interesting lessons, and maybe even lollipops. Not likely, given the subject is called: Introduction to Publishing. The fact that the first half of the class is in a room somewhere between a psychiatric ward and a dungeon doesn't really help. I guess I should be grateful though, we get to watch things! And they're not even boring!

(thanks to i love food and drinks for the lollipops)