I guess I shouldn't scream about how sick of this I am anymore; it has become my life. Again. What has always been my life is still my life. (funny how wine makes me cry faster than pot does, huh?)
Nothing new. Just sitting here, hating my guts. Wondering what I do wrong. Wondering why men just don't want me. It's the fat, of course it's the fat. So why can't I just get off of my cellulite ass and do something about it? I don't even like eating anymore - it's just something to fucking do.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I hate my life so much at this second. But two minutes ago it was awesome so I guess I will just sit here and wait for that to come back.
Will I never be satisfied?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Run, Forest... Run!
Oh fuck. You have no idea what it's like to be me. Of course, I also have no idea what it's like to be you but we are talking about me here? Hello? Me? Pay attention!
Ya. Stoned.
I hate it when I don't like being me. I like being me. I really like being me. About 95% of the time I like being me... but that fucking other 5% fucks it up for everyone else. God, I have to work on her, don't I? The jealous girl? That part of me that hates every good looking woman on the face of the planet. How odd... I never read it as jealously before but mother fucker, all I wanted to do was leave and cry and go to McDonald's. Oops... let's go back a minute or two.
I love this program that I am doing. I love the people... I have not been in a setting like this in so long. Like, since Newfoundland, almost. Like, high school. All the cool kids go to lunch everyday... but I really make an effort to let everyone know that they're invited. My version of high school = no cliques. This is where I am me at my finest... almost. And every mistake is a step closer to getting it right. I'm struggling, I really am. This is hard. I am already past where I would normally be. Of course, I go every day so its hard to lose the edge. Like swimming lessons. And step class. And dancing lessons. And probably a billion other things that I have started and stopped. School. Guitar.
It's hard. I am learning a lot but that's not what's hard. It's dealing with all of these different people every day. I have no choice but to be me. There's no one to impress, there's no one to embarrass, no one to say "oh, aren't you smart with your big words?" There's no one to let down so I am free to be me. Sure the people in my course might think badly of me but no one that I care about. And, honestly, I don't think anyone does think badly of me. If they do and they are talking about me behind my back, I am absolutely okay with that. Go crazy! Say whatever you want. I have no idea, I am oblivious and I intend to keep it that way. No, my head isn't in the sand, I recognize the obvious signs that people aren't really interested in talking to me. That's okay. No one likes everyone and no everyone likes one. I can not help it if someone is being nice to my face while laughing behind my back or whatever and if they have enough of a problem, I will be able to tell. But if someone is writing shit about me on the blackboard during recess, isn't that more of a reflection on him? Really? That shit does not bother me. (Anymore, okay? I said it doesn't bother me anymore! lol)
It's when four of us go out for a beer. And it's me and Susan and Dave and Russell. And I am so jealous! So jealous! It's not that I want to be like her or look like her. Susan is beautiful and I really like her. Actually, if there was any woman that I would want to put the moves on, it's her. (That's so funny... I kill me, man! Who says shit like that? But it's how I feel.) So, Mom was wrong when she said that I always wanted to be little like my childhood/teenage best friend, Sue. That was her baggage.
What I wanted was for people to look at me and treat me like they did Sue. Like they look at and treat Susan. But, and here's the catch, for people to look and treat me that way, I would have to act that way. I would have to be soft and delicate and needing to be taken care of. I would have to gag and giggle and flip my hair and tell everyone about how my boyfriend fucked around on me. So, no.
Unfortunately, that doesn't help.
I'm just so different. I'm so different. Not like a girl at all. Stacey might have taught me to carry a purse but I'm not like the other girls.
And that does help! I'm not like the other girls and I don't want to be like the other girls. I can't be like the other girls. I am me and I have to be or I will never be happy. Oh, yeah, my days of faking it are over. Long over. And the moody shit is under control, too. All that's left is this spare tire. Seriously. I don't think that people dislike me because I'm fat, I don't think that no man will ever love me because I'm fat. I think - I know - that I will never get the man that I want while I am fat.
So I need to be less fat. (Have I heard this somewhere before??)
But, fat or not fat, I am not going to be jealous of the way men look at Susan. I don't want to act like Susan (sorry, Susan - if you ever read this - I love you like crazy... this is just old shit... it's nice to set it free but I didn't even know it was there!). And because I don't want to act like Susan, men will not look at me like they do Susan. We both have our strengths. Maybe she is a bit jealous of me. Maybe her need to command the room is because that's what I do. (my aren't we full of ourselves, hmmm?) My joking around and smartass remarking is not helping them, not pleasing them. And I say "them" now because I just realized that the smartassing is what I do to Winn (our facilitator) and I take a bit of her wind. It's not that I plan to be anyone that I'm not or that I will pull back and shrink so that I won't take their spotlight. OMG! MAYBE I TOOK MY MOTHER'S WIND! (fuck, it seriously kills me how much I sound like I'm fuckin' full of my self! I'm really not... I don't think!)
I'm not even consciously trying to get attention. I was thinking of that earlier. I am not looking for rewards. I'm not looking for hugs and looks of pity. Not for me. I think I just want to be awesome at everything and in every way. But guess what? No one is awesome in everything and no everything awesome is in one. I kind of hog the spotlight sometimes. And, like my mother said when trying to make me understand why she kinda forgot about me when I was a kid, you don't pay attention to the one who is doing good because you have to put so much effort into the one who is having problems. When it comes to attention, you almost get punished for behaving or doing well and rewarded for getting into trouble. Perhaps my commanding attention comes from my understanding that it's the only way I can get it and be true to myself.
Ya. Stoned.
I hate it when I don't like being me. I like being me. I really like being me. About 95% of the time I like being me... but that fucking other 5% fucks it up for everyone else. God, I have to work on her, don't I? The jealous girl? That part of me that hates every good looking woman on the face of the planet. How odd... I never read it as jealously before but mother fucker, all I wanted to do was leave and cry and go to McDonald's. Oops... let's go back a minute or two.
I love this program that I am doing. I love the people... I have not been in a setting like this in so long. Like, since Newfoundland, almost. Like, high school. All the cool kids go to lunch everyday... but I really make an effort to let everyone know that they're invited. My version of high school = no cliques. This is where I am me at my finest... almost. And every mistake is a step closer to getting it right. I'm struggling, I really am. This is hard. I am already past where I would normally be. Of course, I go every day so its hard to lose the edge. Like swimming lessons. And step class. And dancing lessons. And probably a billion other things that I have started and stopped. School. Guitar.
It's hard. I am learning a lot but that's not what's hard. It's dealing with all of these different people every day. I have no choice but to be me. There's no one to impress, there's no one to embarrass, no one to say "oh, aren't you smart with your big words?" There's no one to let down so I am free to be me. Sure the people in my course might think badly of me but no one that I care about. And, honestly, I don't think anyone does think badly of me. If they do and they are talking about me behind my back, I am absolutely okay with that. Go crazy! Say whatever you want. I have no idea, I am oblivious and I intend to keep it that way. No, my head isn't in the sand, I recognize the obvious signs that people aren't really interested in talking to me. That's okay. No one likes everyone and no everyone likes one. I can not help it if someone is being nice to my face while laughing behind my back or whatever and if they have enough of a problem, I will be able to tell. But if someone is writing shit about me on the blackboard during recess, isn't that more of a reflection on him? Really? That shit does not bother me. (Anymore, okay? I said it doesn't bother me anymore! lol)
It's when four of us go out for a beer. And it's me and Susan and Dave and Russell. And I am so jealous! So jealous! It's not that I want to be like her or look like her. Susan is beautiful and I really like her. Actually, if there was any woman that I would want to put the moves on, it's her. (That's so funny... I kill me, man! Who says shit like that? But it's how I feel.) So, Mom was wrong when she said that I always wanted to be little like my childhood/teenage best friend, Sue. That was her baggage.
What I wanted was for people to look at me and treat me like they did Sue. Like they look at and treat Susan. But, and here's the catch, for people to look and treat me that way, I would have to act that way. I would have to be soft and delicate and needing to be taken care of. I would have to gag and giggle and flip my hair and tell everyone about how my boyfriend fucked around on me. So, no.
Unfortunately, that doesn't help.
I'm just so different. I'm so different. Not like a girl at all. Stacey might have taught me to carry a purse but I'm not like the other girls.
And that does help! I'm not like the other girls and I don't want to be like the other girls. I can't be like the other girls. I am me and I have to be or I will never be happy. Oh, yeah, my days of faking it are over. Long over. And the moody shit is under control, too. All that's left is this spare tire. Seriously. I don't think that people dislike me because I'm fat, I don't think that no man will ever love me because I'm fat. I think - I know - that I will never get the man that I want while I am fat.
So I need to be less fat. (Have I heard this somewhere before??)
But, fat or not fat, I am not going to be jealous of the way men look at Susan. I don't want to act like Susan (sorry, Susan - if you ever read this - I love you like crazy... this is just old shit... it's nice to set it free but I didn't even know it was there!). And because I don't want to act like Susan, men will not look at me like they do Susan. We both have our strengths. Maybe she is a bit jealous of me. Maybe her need to command the room is because that's what I do. (my aren't we full of ourselves, hmmm?) My joking around and smartass remarking is not helping them, not pleasing them. And I say "them" now because I just realized that the smartassing is what I do to Winn (our facilitator) and I take a bit of her wind. It's not that I plan to be anyone that I'm not or that I will pull back and shrink so that I won't take their spotlight. OMG! MAYBE I TOOK MY MOTHER'S WIND! (fuck, it seriously kills me how much I sound like I'm fuckin' full of my self! I'm really not... I don't think!)
I'm not even consciously trying to get attention. I was thinking of that earlier. I am not looking for rewards. I'm not looking for hugs and looks of pity. Not for me. I think I just want to be awesome at everything and in every way. But guess what? No one is awesome in everything and no everything awesome is in one. I kind of hog the spotlight sometimes. And, like my mother said when trying to make me understand why she kinda forgot about me when I was a kid, you don't pay attention to the one who is doing good because you have to put so much effort into the one who is having problems. When it comes to attention, you almost get punished for behaving or doing well and rewarded for getting into trouble. Perhaps my commanding attention comes from my understanding that it's the only way I can get it and be true to myself.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Things To Tell My Brother
I love you. I have felt closer to you over this past couple of years than I have since we were teenagers - although I guess we had our ups and downs back then, too. And I'm risking another huge down by telling you the things that I want to tell you. I'm going to tell you anyway because I think you need to know all the angles before you make a mistake that you will regret for the rest of your life. Or maybe you won't.
How could I possibly know what is happening with you right now? What if even you don't know? It's about perspective, remember? I know you believe that and I think you have never been more right about something. You are very good at seeing both sides of the situation; you seem to be able to read people's reasons for reacting certain ways. The part that I think you might be missing is when you are directly involved in the situation.
I am telling you this only because it is something that I did without having the slightest idea. And I think that it's something that you do, too... because it's something that Mom does, and Dad does, and Cathy does - but Debra doesn't. (Remember my old blood behaviours verses learned behaviours experiment?) And I am hearing both sides of the story and I think you all misunderstand each other so I feel that I really need to jump into the middle - where I am not invited and, quite possibly, where I am not welcome - and try to show the other side.
This might piss you off but I feel that the benefits outweigh the risks. If it does piss you off, I ask you to go ahead and get pissed off but then read it again in a day or so. You need to know this and I need to tell you so you can, at the very least, make an informed decision. I want you to know that I really love you and I am grateful for who you are and that you are my brother; I will always feel this way and I will always support you - even when I don't agree with you. I hope you would do the same for me.
Okay, I think I'm finally ready to make my point...
Do you remember that day that we talked for hours at Samz and out on my deck? I don't think that you recognize the effect that you have on people. I don't think that you understand how important you make people feel. I have seen the effect you have on others for many many years. It is why I love you. It is why I looked up to you when we were younger. It's why girls are attracted to you like magnets. It is why Mom and Dad are feeling especially upset and slighted.
Because they love you. Because after Tom sends a card or spends time with his father in the hospital, they don't stop talking about how wonderful Tom is. The saddest thing that I think Mom and Dad never learned is to tell us how wonderful we are to our faces. You and I tell each other all the time how much we care about each other and how much we bring to each other's lives but Mom and Dad have trouble doing it.
If there is one thing that our parents did well for all of us three original kids, it is to be independent. We can stand up for ourselves. We are strong and we are smart and we are resilient and we don't need anybody else.
If there is one thing that our parents did wrong with all of us three original kids - and this is learned behaviour - it is that they taught us that we don't need anybody else. And, because of that, we all seem to think that nobody needs us. That is wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
They do need you. They love you and they are so proud of you. And they are pushing you away right now because you hurt their feelings. They think that if you don't need them, well they won't need you, either. Because it hurts them that you didn't call Christmas time. And hurts them when you miss a birthday. And they get kind of snippy and snide and they push you away.
And Mom bitches and complains. She gets drunk and she calls to whine about this or get upset about that. It irritates you, it frustrates you. Does that mean that you don't love her and you don't care if she's hurting? Perhaps you do. Perhaps you are at the point that you have no interest in being a part of their lives. That is your choice, and your prerogative and, like I said, I will love you and support you in that. I love you for what you bring to my life and because I need your support.
What I need you to know right now is that they are hurting. Dad has been given two years to live. Two. How fast has time flown since 2007, two years ago? In a heartbeat, right? God - doesn't it feel like you're still 18 sometimes? Two years. And time speeds up. You have a deadline. Right now, you need to decide how you want your relationship with your father and mother to end.
Do you want Dad to die thinking that his only son doesn't love him? That is what he thinks right now. That is the message that he receives every time you don't call. Do you want him not taking your calls when you do bother to work up the energy to not call? Because that is what he is doing right now. He is hurt, they are hurt.
You didn't even call to find out if he is going to die, you didn't call to say Merry Christmas. Those things might not be important to you but they're sure important to them. Because they love you. Because they need you to love them and they don't think you do.
Dad told me once that the only thing he ever did that meant anything was to raise us kids. We are his value; and our love for him is how he is judging his life. He needs to know that his life was worth it, that he has worth. And you're giving him a bad score and he is losing his worth... and he doesn't have enough to lose. Please reach to them, Tom... even if you have to fake it.
How could I possibly know what is happening with you right now? What if even you don't know? It's about perspective, remember? I know you believe that and I think you have never been more right about something. You are very good at seeing both sides of the situation; you seem to be able to read people's reasons for reacting certain ways. The part that I think you might be missing is when you are directly involved in the situation.
I am telling you this only because it is something that I did without having the slightest idea. And I think that it's something that you do, too... because it's something that Mom does, and Dad does, and Cathy does - but Debra doesn't. (Remember my old blood behaviours verses learned behaviours experiment?) And I am hearing both sides of the story and I think you all misunderstand each other so I feel that I really need to jump into the middle - where I am not invited and, quite possibly, where I am not welcome - and try to show the other side.
This might piss you off but I feel that the benefits outweigh the risks. If it does piss you off, I ask you to go ahead and get pissed off but then read it again in a day or so. You need to know this and I need to tell you so you can, at the very least, make an informed decision. I want you to know that I really love you and I am grateful for who you are and that you are my brother; I will always feel this way and I will always support you - even when I don't agree with you. I hope you would do the same for me.
Okay, I think I'm finally ready to make my point...
Do you remember that day that we talked for hours at Samz and out on my deck? I don't think that you recognize the effect that you have on people. I don't think that you understand how important you make people feel. I have seen the effect you have on others for many many years. It is why I love you. It is why I looked up to you when we were younger. It's why girls are attracted to you like magnets. It is why Mom and Dad are feeling especially upset and slighted.
Because they love you. Because after Tom sends a card or spends time with his father in the hospital, they don't stop talking about how wonderful Tom is. The saddest thing that I think Mom and Dad never learned is to tell us how wonderful we are to our faces. You and I tell each other all the time how much we care about each other and how much we bring to each other's lives but Mom and Dad have trouble doing it.
If there is one thing that our parents did well for all of us three original kids, it is to be independent. We can stand up for ourselves. We are strong and we are smart and we are resilient and we don't need anybody else.
If there is one thing that our parents did wrong with all of us three original kids - and this is learned behaviour - it is that they taught us that we don't need anybody else. And, because of that, we all seem to think that nobody needs us. That is wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
They do need you. They love you and they are so proud of you. And they are pushing you away right now because you hurt their feelings. They think that if you don't need them, well they won't need you, either. Because it hurts them that you didn't call Christmas time. And hurts them when you miss a birthday. And they get kind of snippy and snide and they push you away.
And Mom bitches and complains. She gets drunk and she calls to whine about this or get upset about that. It irritates you, it frustrates you. Does that mean that you don't love her and you don't care if she's hurting? Perhaps you do. Perhaps you are at the point that you have no interest in being a part of their lives. That is your choice, and your prerogative and, like I said, I will love you and support you in that. I love you for what you bring to my life and because I need your support.
What I need you to know right now is that they are hurting. Dad has been given two years to live. Two. How fast has time flown since 2007, two years ago? In a heartbeat, right? God - doesn't it feel like you're still 18 sometimes? Two years. And time speeds up. You have a deadline. Right now, you need to decide how you want your relationship with your father and mother to end.
Do you want Dad to die thinking that his only son doesn't love him? That is what he thinks right now. That is the message that he receives every time you don't call. Do you want him not taking your calls when you do bother to work up the energy to not call? Because that is what he is doing right now. He is hurt, they are hurt.
You didn't even call to find out if he is going to die, you didn't call to say Merry Christmas. Those things might not be important to you but they're sure important to them. Because they love you. Because they need you to love them and they don't think you do.
Dad told me once that the only thing he ever did that meant anything was to raise us kids. We are his value; and our love for him is how he is judging his life. He needs to know that his life was worth it, that he has worth. And you're giving him a bad score and he is losing his worth... and he doesn't have enough to lose. Please reach to them, Tom... even if you have to fake it.
Pity Party
So he says, "It's not good news..." and the American Idol episode I saw the other night flashes before my eyes and I realize that I'm waiting for the "It's fantastic news" that they were throwing out a second later. It's all about the build up for effect, right? Nope. "It's not good news. It's what they thought."
He said the exact same words to Debra and both of us were amazed, touched and scared that he was the one to tell us. It's not good news.
So I called Ian for a big fattie and I cried and I fell asleep for a while.
He said the exact same words to Debra and both of us were amazed, touched and scared that he was the one to tell us. It's not good news.
So I called Ian for a big fattie and I cried and I fell asleep for a while.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Fear and common sense
I'm so scared for tomorrow. I haven't talked about this at all yet, I don't think. It's called avoidance. My dad gets his test results and we will know if he has cancer. The jury is still out but they found spots on his lungs, liver, bowel and prostate so, if he has it, he's probably full of it. I don't want to go into it now. I don't want to think about it so I am going to put the tv on and probably eat something - don't worry, it will be (reasonably) healthy. I know it will be better to know than to not know but I only want to know if it's good news.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Change
You cannot possibly understand what it feels like to have changed "different" and "wrong" into "special" and "right". I have ventured out into the world full force for the first time as 'this person' (as I like to call me now) and I am shocked at the response I have received. And inspired. And grateful. And amazed. And relieved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)