Monthly Archives: December 2015

I am here

Facing the reality of the fact that no matter how hard you try, you may fail sometime, and trying to figure out what you’re supposed to keep working toward and what you’re supposed to let go of is a lot of work.

It requires humility and strength of endurance that I do not always have. Sometimes it results in being overwhelmed by your own inadequacy, and being unable to try to hold on any more, and twenty minute sobbing sessions in your room where no one can see you.

Eventually loved ones find you and try to console you while you simply recognize the fact that you have no control over the situation and don’t want to be crying, and really don’t mean to be bothering them with your pain, but you just can’t handle the stress at the moment and you need to cry.

Then you get ready for bed, read a novel for four hours, and go to sleep thinking that at least your life is better than the character’s in the dystopian society, and at least you can enter a different world for four hours at a time, and step into the life of someone else, be it ever so briefly, and be okay. Not only be okay, but maybe grow stronger with the recognition that we all struggle as human beings, and nobody has everything under control, and that while you may be crying about a situation you see no way out of, the pain is temporary and ultimately, some way or another, it will be solved.

You are loved, and it will be okay.

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ODR: A dramatic journal entry on the subject of loneliness and failed relationships. Plus a short poem!

It seems that the deeper I delve into the relationship sphere, the more painful everything becomes.

But loneliness is too, oh so painful.

Why do I got to want so much, and be happy with so little?

What am I looking for? Happiness?

It seems to have eluded me, like the fly zooming away just before the paper lands.

I’m lost trying to figure out whether I’m the failure, or all men are.

Poor men, all lumped into the one category, because of my inability to interact with them.

It’s not even that.

It’s just, it’s one after another…and the more I hurt, the more I shut down, and the closer they get, the more I give up.

Like, another failure reminds me of every past failure, and then I sink into thinking that I WILL BE ALONE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, and all my family will die before me, because I’m the youngest, and I will be miserable.

Oh, I know it’s not true. With my health, and my ginormous number of nieces and nephews, there’s little chance of me being the last one standing. Not that it’s a competition or anything. That’d be quite creepy…

But still, I keep wanting to…actually be in a relationship with someone now, and it keeps…not happening. Which is totally fine, it’s just becoming so burdening, being the friend that will always just be his friend, and slowly falling for him, and him always falling away.

I need a relationship with someone who is actually there.

Not there at some point, not there for a moment, not there when their visa goes through. I want someone who actually wants to be with me. Why can’t I find someone who actually wants to be with me…and who doesn’t do drugs?

Why do they say they’ll be there when they won’t?

Why do they say they love you when they don’t?

Why do they bother to even pretend they care?

Why, oh why, can’t they just be there?

 

 

-DramaticCatherine

…because love problems aren’t just for teenage girls.

 

 

 

 

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December 8, 2015

Feast of the Immaculate Conception. It is a beautiful day, it is a feast day, a holiday, a holy day.

I started the day exhausted and rushing from place to place, to Mass, to professor’s offices, to lunch, to¬† class, and it took me until after it was all over to realize how blessed I was. So here it goes:

  • I exercised and showered.
  • I ate breakfast.
  • I went to Mass with my three year old nephew and my Mom.
  • I met with my professor and she helped me plan for my final lesson plan.
  • I ate lunch with a friend and discussed life, boys, and our final group project.
  • I recognized a musician that I played a show with recently, and I said hello to him at school.
  • I got a phone call from a booking agent, confirming the details of my next show.
  • I went to class and saw my classmates.
  • I gave someone a cookie.
  • I met with a second professor and found out not only that I didn’t fail my last assignment, but that the grade I had received was a B-.
  • After some discussion the B- grade was raised to a B.
  • I finished planning most of my group project with my classmates.
  • There was free birthday cake.
  • My friend drove me home.
  • I played ukulele.
  • I composed two new songs, one of which I will definitely play at a show in the future.
  • I ate dinner.
  • The guy I’ve been communicating with ended his last message to me with “Xoxo”.

It has been a fantastic day. An extremely difficult and tiring day, but a fantastic one.

I am blessed.

 

 

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Exhale…

Yea, I was feeling a little depressed and obsessed, but then I wrote a 700 word poem about a guy I like, and now I feel better.

Like I can finally get back to thinking about school. Which I am partially failing, what with finals week being upon me and all of my assignments being due in the same four day period. Failing is a strong term, I only failed one assignment that the teacher decided to suddenly enforce a strict grading code on, when he’s been wishy washy the rest of the semester…But, one D amongst a field of As and Bs shouldn’t be too bad. It’s not like I didn’t try, I merely followed the instructions and didn’t try to overachieve and look beyond them to make sure it covered what previous assignments covered. Nor did I read the instructions more than several times….And reading them again, I blame the professor.

I would blame myself, but I definitely followed instructions and simply did not do more than he instructed us to do, and as his instructions were rather pathetic, I suppose my assignment turned out pathetic.

My fault for following his instructions.

Just a week of this left.

 

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Poem: Wading through thorns.

“I appreciate you” I say pointlessly, while my hormones are raging, and I allow them to force me to speak this momentarily overwhelming stupid thought, that is half honesty, out of an attempt to make you communicate something more toward me. Communicate. With me.

Heart pounding and I see you smile and just want to wrap my arms around you, wrap your arms around me, be warm and soft and held tight like you love me.

Cursing these hormones and these thoughts and hopes that are built on short bouts of laughter and glances from your dark, beautiful eyes.

You stare a lot, and I don’t know what you communicate, but you set my heart on fire and it won’t seem to go out.

Glances and smiles with those beautiful eyes and beautiful cheeks and beautiful teeth gleaming white, perfectly set in a smiling mouth.

You are beautiful. You are gorgeous. You are attractive and every physical part of me wants to be closer to you, and I’m at war with myself, mind over matter, because the matter is trying to take over and I’m starting to lose my mind.

I don’t want to lose my mind.

Because mentally, oh beautifully attractive one, mentally I know it is not time. Mentally, oh captivating heartthrob, causer of my heartbeats and blackouts of mind, mentally, I know that this is more overwhelming infatuation than love. This is more biological than rational, this is more instinct than instance, this is more me wanting to be loved than me loving, and I can’t have that.

I can’t have this.

I repel that desire for objectification, no matter the momentary elation of that satiation of desire, I repel that instant gratification, that short term duration of feeling, built on matter fleeting, of feeding that burning fire
that burns without purpose except to excite, that burns with heat but gives no great light, that burns to consume and exhaust and deplete, I reject that sterile and empty feat.
I reject the unwholesome consumption of you, crumbling your beauty not loving you through, I reject that notion that hearts can’t be tamed, that we can go on and on and not be blamed, I reject this notion, this desire to obtain, I reject these thoughts that leave love lame, I reject the dampening of Purity’s gleam, ruining her waters, defiling a stream of love, of goodness, of truth and joy, of happiness and beauty and all we employ when deeply and truly loving each other, I reject the bad and will accept no other love – except a love that is true, a love that loves every aspect of you.

I will fight for the truth and a heart that embraces
you and every single one of your faces,
you when you’re broken and you when you’re down,
you when you’re silent and when you make no sound,
you when you’re shouting and singing for joy,
you when you’re manly, or when you feel like a boy,
you when you need me and you when you don’t,
you when you help me and you when you won’t,
to love you despite, in addition, and because,
to love you for reasons that were, are, and was,
I will fight for a love that embraces all things that make you more holy and through which God brings us closer to him and to each other, deeper in love with him and one another.

I will fight for the Love he provides with no mercy.
I will fight for the Love he provides til I’m worthy
to have you, to hold you, to love you, a man,
I will fight to love you and try til I can.

You are beautiful, sitting across from me, and once that beauty was all I could see, blinded by the gift of sight, couldn’t see the soul surrounded in light. You are beautiful, sitting across from me, and I will try to love that beauty, love and respect and pray for and wait, and melt the lust that’s hiding self-hate. You are beautiful, you reflect perfection, and I will wait until God points me in the right direction. You are beautiful and my heart reaches for you, but it will stay still until I ever say “I do”.

Thank you Lord, for the beauty in the world, and please protect the heart of this awestruck girl.

AMEN.

 

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ODR: Therapy and struggles

I wanted to cry and I almost did but I stopped myself and wondered if I needed to see a psychiatrist.

I want to talk to someone, but Mom responds to the things I say with details about all the other tragedies happening in the family.
My brother just sighs and tries to be comforting by patting me on the shoulder, and totally failing.
I don’t want to burden my dad with anymore suffering.
My friends all seem too busy, and I don’t want them to have to take care of me like I take care of them.
I don’t want to depend on anyone.
I’m scared to.
I’m scared they’ll get overwhelmed and hurt and leave me.
Because I get overwhelmed and hurt and leave them.
I don’t think it’s possible for them to be stronger than me, for them to want to help, because I’m so weak that I can’t help.

I hurt and want to vent it and get rid of it, but I don’t see how I can do that without hurting anyone else.

Then my sister asked how I was, and I kept up my wall and told her the details she already knew, and kept some back, to protect her and keep me from losing someone else, to keep someone else from thinking about how weak I was, how pathetic, how I just needed to get over it, fix my life, be strong, and live like everyone else.
I was prepared and built up walls, letting out what I wanted to let out, attempting to keep control.
And then she found out my shoulders were sore and stiff from surgery still. She told me to get a massage, and then to call my physical therapist, and I agreed and said I just didn’t have time or energy yet. And then she massaged my shoulders for me…and I felt my eyes well with tears at the fact that she was trying to ease some of my pain.
And I don’t know how to express my other pain or how to make it go away.
Because I don’t feel happy, and I don’t want to feel sad, but I don’t know why.
Because every time I say I’m sad it’s excused away.
You’re just tired.
You’re just hungry.
You’re just stressed.
Sleep and you’ll feel better, eat and you’ll feel better, stop having problems and you’ll feel better.
Problems don’t stop until you fix them.
I can fix the superficial problems, but the other ones are deeper.
The deeper ones I don’t know what to do with.
I can’t fill the emptiness.

And every time I feel sad I explain it away.
You’ll feel better after this assignment.
You just don’t know what you’re doing with your life.
You just want more friends.
You just want better friends.
You just want someone to talk to.
You just want someone to help.
You’re just worried about your friend with cancer.
You’re just making yourself sad by thinking of sad things.
Everything will be better if you just hold on.

Doing nothing is easier than doing something.
But it hurts.
When the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of changing, theoretically change happens.
But I’m too busy to change. I’m too tired to change. I’m too focused on trying to be happy that I forget I’m sad. Except when I stop working, when I stop rushing from thing to thing, and I’m left alone in the aftermath of my racing through activity to activity. When I’m alone and I have a spare moment, I cry again.

I just want to be happy.
(Oct 2015.)

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ODR: Stress

This has been an emotionally exhausting seven days…and month.

Ever since Halloween it’s been busy.

School decided that all the big assignments are going to be due now.

The sky decided that it’s going to kick into freezing mode.

A guy decided to ask me out.

And it’s just, crazy.

I need another day off. Hanging out with people is energy draining. Doing things is energy draining. Thinking about relationships, thinking. LIFE.

I rather hate lesson planning. I’m not good at recognizing student errors and finding ways to fix them. I don’t know what I’m doing. I am so tired. Tired and distracted. Distracted by my health, my friend’s health, my mind, everything.

Just getting tough to handle.

So tough.

(Nov 12, 2015)

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