Category Archives: ODR: Old Drafts Revisited

I have a lot of drafts from two years of writing. Someone asked me why I hadn’t posted them. Now I’m digging them up, dusting them off, and putting them here.

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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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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ODR: What my life looks like to God.

I came back from visiting my friend in August and I was suddenly very thoughtful. On September 12, 2014 I composed this post. I don’t think it went along with my general whining about gradschool, so I saved it until now…It starts in italics, so I’m adding little dash lines to make it clear where my commentary ends and the post begins. Here come the dashes… ALSO, apparently I published this once and then unpublished it. I don’t know the story behind that…

————————————————————————————–

I want that. Or I want that. That hurt, I want this instead. That will make me happy. Or maybe that will make me happy. I am so sad. This is all so sad, why are you letting me be so sad GOD! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO GOD!??? Oh look, a guy! He will make me happy. YAY, we are chilling like best friends and he is giving me so much attention and…Now he is gone. I am sad again. GOD….GOD, WHY DO YOU KEEP TAKING PEOPLE AWAY FROM ME? WHY DO YOU KEEP TAKING HAPPINESS AWAY!!!!!Oh look, another guy! He’ll make me happy! We can be best friends and maybe he’ll be the one that really understands me and makes me complete and—- GOD, HE LEFT ME AGAIN.

There are brief moments in my life where I realize something. They aren’t typically very profound somethings, and often I forget them upon learning them. So…here’s one:

I keep trying to find happiness in the world. In people. In things. And yes, people and things can be good and they can bring you joy, and you’re ultimately supposed to be happy, but they’re not going to make you happy all the time. They’re going to fail. You’re going to fail. I fail.

I’m not going to be perfectly happy. All the time. Currently. In this life. It’s not possible.

Something will go wrong.

And this sounds like a pessimist thing, and it kind of is.

But…It’s…It shouldn’t be.

Because the deal is, while this world is imperfect, perfection exists.

While there is suffering, joy exists.

While there is pain, there is someone who takes all that pain and turns it into something beautiful, who takes the suffering, and saves…and because he did it, because he was able to, we can try.

We can take the painful moments in our life, and turn them into joy.

We can get through it.

We can accept the suffering, and …move forward, and move with joy, because sure…it’s not perfect, but it’s life, and there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and that’s God…and life with him..

And I don’t…I don’t like to talk about….Suffering, or rather about just accepting suffering and being discontent…Because I don’t want to be…Because I want perfect happiness…and I want everything now…and I’m impatient…

But…I also know that it’s possible that I may  not get everything I want now, and maybe what I want isn’t always good…Because I keep noticing that what I want keeps leaving me….

And so…I guess I learned that…I have to keep being patient and keep doing my best.

And that every guy I ever liked not liking me back might not ultimately be a bad thing…Because maybe God has better plans. Like for someone who actually likes me to tell me that he does and for me to like him back…and for that to happen when I’m ready for it to happen, whenever that is.

Those were just some thoughts…After scanning my posts for the last couple months.

Well, goodnight, I hope you’re doing well, and that you’re persevering through whatever you need to persevere through, and that something wonderful happens tomorrow and you notice it.

– Catherine

 

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ODR: An incredibly depressing compilation of words about pain.

Here’s a poem I wrote June 2nd, 2014, when my physical state was a more painful than now. My current life is far superior in regards to the pain aspect, but there are sad things in it that I don’t want to think of, so I’m zooming backwards a moment. Here it is, entitled “An incredibly depressing compilation of words about pain”, catchy, eh?

 

One drop of pain,
but it just keeps dripping,
and sometimes all I want to do
is stab it with a knife, just kill it and make it dull,
and end the pain,
override it with new pain,
make it leave my system entirely,
because how can it still be sensing pain that isn’t there?

 

Other times I forget that it’s there.
Life distracts you.
Then you start to think you complain too much, but later you’re back to wanting to violently attack the pain away, and you can’t, and it won’t go.
Stronger-weaker, stronger-weaker,
It seems to only come back when you’ve started to try to live your life again.
When you try to ignore it.
Because you’re too tired of walking on eggshells to keep its temper
Too tired of hiding by yourself.

You just want to fight.
Run.
Be happy and alive.

Then it beats you down and you’re alone again.
With the dripping pain.
Too weak to fight it.
Too weak to live your life.
It hurts and you just let it hurt.
Eventually it will stop.
Because everything stops.
In the meantime you’re just hoping.
Hoping and hurting.
Living your life the only way you know how, and waiting for the pain to die, so you can live.

 

What’s pain anyway?

 

 

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ODR: Mother’s Day

She wasn’t the best behaved child, it’s true. Hours were spent merely trying to get her to stay in one place, to pick up a pencil, to do something that was anything she was asked to be doing.

I saw her mother hold the paper in her hand, I could see the faint outline of a heart on the other side, and elaborate designs all alongside the paper. It was a Mother’s Day card, typed.
Her Mom looked at it, and smiling and happy, said “What does this mean? I don’t understand it, I’ll read it later, you have to go to your lesson.”

The small child started to pout, started to shuffle her feet, started to slip into the I-Will-Do-Absolutely-Nothing-But-Sulk mode. “NO! Read it now!” She half shouted and half complained.

The Mother softly obliged, began reading and then spoke again in a laughing voice, to excuse the words, “But, I don’t understand it. What did you write here? That “you are happy that I’m alive”? What does that mean? It doesn’t make sense. You have to have it make sense, now go to your lesson.”

The little girl stood, twisting her juice box in her hands, letting fruit punch drip onto the floor and her shirt and her hands, twisting and sipping, leaning on the wall, visibly upset and angry.

“No!” She yelled again, “I didn’t even want you to read it!” She snatched the letter from her Mother’s hands, crumpled it up, and threw it into the recycling bin. “Go to class silly,” her Mother lightheartedly responded, as if the last few moments had no impact on her daughter at all.

She did not go to class. She wandered, she sulked, she went and sat in a chair next to her mother, who I now noticed, was straightening out a crumpled sheet of paper and trying to read it again.

At some point her Mother shooed her away. Eventually the daughter came into the classroom and I tried very hard to distract her into learning, while she sat in the office chair, spinning in circles, falling out of the chair, and chewing on the straw from her crumpled juice box.

(May 2014)

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The Trolley Problem

So, while I was google searching the name of some crazy philosopher who thought small children could be disposed of until age 4 because until that point they couldn’t be independent or something, I started reading a bunch of crazy philosophies and ethical questions and I came across something called THE TROLLEY PROBLEM.

Here’s what it is, according to wikipedia:  “The trolley problem is a thought experiment in ethics. The general form of the problem is this: There is a runaway trolley barreling down the railway tracks. Ahead, on the tracks, there are five people tied up and unable to move. The trolley is headed straight for them. You are standing some distance off in the train yard, next to a lever. If you pull this lever, the trolley will switch to a different set of tracks. However, you notice that there is one person on the side track. You have two options: (1) Do nothing, and the trolley kills the five people on the main track. (2) Pull the lever, diverting the trolley onto the side track where it will kill one person. Which is the correct choice?”

So I read this problem, pondered it for a while, opened a new search window and went back to searching for my heartless philosopher, and then as I was closing down internet windows at 2am and attempting to get ready to sleep, I found myself back on the Trolley page. So I decided to read some of the theoretical solutions to it, because I was rather stumped, and after I’d read them all I realized the one solution that nobody seemed to think of.

Namely, if you flip the switch so that it heads toward the one man, then WHY CAN’T YOU JUST YELL AT THE MAN TO GET OFF THE TRACK?

He’s not tied to the track. He’s willfully choosing to stand on the track of his own accord. If the train comes toward him, he should have the wisdom to get off the stinkin’ track! I mean, seriously.

Why is the man even standing on the track in the first place?  There are a mess of people all lined up to get run over by the first track, and he’s like across the way just chilling, doesn’t he see the people on the first track? Why isn’t HE helping them? AND if he’s not gonna help then just get off the track dude!

So my point here, is that I would flip the switch while screaming “GET OFF THE TRACK” and expect the man to high-tail it out of there. If he gets crushed then that’s an unfortunate side effect of him STANDING ON TRAIN TRACKS, not hearing me yelling, not noticing the people tied up on the other track, and not hearing or seeing the train coming straight toward him.

Sure, there is the risk that he’s like, he’s tied to the track as well, but my goal is to save the 5 people by re-routing the track, and I’m hoping that he’s gonna move.

Does this conflict with my not killing anyone post?

Because I still think we should not kill people, but if the people is a person standing on a train track and ignoring the oncoming train, shouts, and tied up people, then I think they have a death wish.

And while I don’t want to help them fulfill that death wish, I don’t want their death wish standing in front of 5 people’s life wishes…Yeah

Okay, that’s all. PEACE!

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