Letter to Me

Dearest Lynx,

You are too stubborn for your own good. You could stand to swallow your pride more than once every twenty-three years, as well. I know you hate showing weakness and the prospect of being dependent on anyone or anything makes you visibly cringe (almost as much as you do every time that damned ice cream truck rolls by), but woman... You're being a child. Sometimes it's cute-- the mental image of the cool facade you like to use so much crumbling with a proverbial stomping of the feet and crossing of the arms. Most times though, it's annoying. You know it (mostly because you're writing it, but admitting it too much makes it confusing). Anyway, circular speaking aside: Grow a backbone or something. Seriously. When did you become such a coward, huh? You never used to be afraid of speaking your mind because-- OH NOES-- it might offend someone. I seem to recall actually enjoying being painfully honest just to watch people squirm... Okay, maybe that's not something to be proud of, but honestly, you shouldn't be hiding and whimpering like this. You're such a chicken sometimes! And you can't even answer the simple question of "why." Well, you can, you have a snide, vague, deliberately evasive answer for just about everything, but that's not the point. Your answers suck. That's the point. They're unfounded. Actually, they've kinda already been refuted, so there. News flash sweetie (and really, this shouldn't be a news flash because this is one of your favorite snarky comments): You're smart, but you're not a mind reader. You do not know how every single other person you come into contact with feels. About you, or about anything. You only know what you've been told. Stop overcomplicating things and for shit's sake stop trying to find negative things in neutral or positive situations. I thought we were past that? I mean yeah, you've been screwed by people before. You have been called a pest, and you've certainly been stepped on (you little rug, you). You've been cast aside by a bunch of people who only bother to get in touch with you when they want something from you, and okay, I can see why that would make you stubborn and slightly standoffish.

But again, you don't know. Stop treating everyone like they're gonna bite you the first chance they get. Some might, but I think most won't. You can't judge everyone against one or two or even twenty bad experiences. You're the one who's so determined to leave the past in the past; why are you so keen to let it rule you now?

Oh, and another thing... Your reasonings and your actions? Yeah, you're being kind of an ass. Sure, nobody but you knows why you do (or don't do) what you do, and you could easily brush it off with a lie. You're good at that. But you can't lie to yourself, and you know the way you handle things makes you miserable, so knock it the fish off. Your reasons suck too, by the way. They're excuses because you're scared. Of things that have no solid basis in fact.

You're being petty. And dumb. If things bother you, say so. I'm sure things'd change if you did. But people can't change if they don't know what's bothering you. ... Not that you should demand people change for your convenience, it's more a request for... Ah, you know what I'm talking about; there's no good way to word it. The point I'm trying to make here is this: You can't really expect every person you meet to hurt or secretly disdain you because one or two people may have before... Even if it was more than one or two people, that beside the point. If you have questions, ask them. If you have qualms, assert yourself and see if you can't fix them. If these people are your friends as they claim to be, they'd probably prefer you do that than be stubborn and petty and miserable and CHICKEN. >.> And if not... Well then maybe it's time to find some better friends.

Isn't this nice, being all honest and stuff? (Yes, it's also disconcerting that you can only ever seem to make sense of yourself while addressing yourself as someone else... We need to work on your/our social skills...)

Go find that courage you had before you decided you were afraid of offending the people that hurt you.

"This is the time for chasing my desires. What's in my heart is true. And if my dreams set everything on fire, then I would still belong to you." --Amaranthe "True"

Sometimes

Sometimes I pull the blinds, turn the lights off and light a candle. I'm just too groggy to face the daylight.

Sometimes I put the mask back on. I take it right back off though. It's too heavy for me now.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to let my walls crumble. Then I remember, and close them up tight.

Sometimes I think I feel too much. I don't mind.

Sometimes I catch myself humming. I wonder if anyone can hear me. I hope I'm not tone-deaf.

Sometimes I fall asleep sitting up, with my knitting still in my hands. The sound of the breeze through the palm trees is soothing.

Sometimes I smile at myself in the mirror, just to make sure I still remember how. I do, but it's not great.

Sometimes I know what I'm doing.

Sometimes I don't.

Sometimes I try to be sensible, but no one listens.

Sometimes I speak nonsense, and suddenly everyone's listening. And judging.

Sometimes I think I'm being myself. Then I realize I'm only mimicking someone else.

Sometimes I really am just myself. Most people ignore it and continue on like it's still the past.

Sometimes I feel like a child. Everything frightens me, and I just want to hide.

Sometimes I do hide. After a while, life doesn't seem so scary and I crawl out of my hiding place.

Sometimes I really want to laugh but can't find anything funny. I laugh anyway.

Sometimes I feel the weight of all my insecurities. I don't mean to be a pest.

Sometimes I don't mind that I'm as much of a child as I am inside. I wish more people could know it.

And sometimes, even if it does seem childish, I just really, really want to be held.

Right now, I want to offer the world a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies. I am happy.

Lynx

I'm Torn

On one hand, I'm so exhausted that I just want to be alone. I'm to tired to think about anything, let alone the habits of the people around me. I can't read minds at the best of times, let alone when I can almost keep my eyes open. I'm tired of trying to be "the leader" and initiate interaction. It's not my forte anyway, but now I feel like I'd just be a pest. What's more is I'm too tired to state that plainly. I don't have the energy for any kind of confrontation.

And then I just want to be allowed to lay down for a second and let someone else "be the leader." Let someone else start the conversations. Let someone else do the thinking. In that way, I don't want to be alone at all. I don't even know if I make sense right now, I'm so tired.

I've done basically nothing but sleep all day, and I feel, honestly, like I've been hit with something very heavy. The fibromyalgia is flaring up on me and kicking my ass. Everything's foggy, and I can almost make sense of my thoughts. This is the third time I've started this post, and I STILL don't know what I'm trying to say.

Two thoughts.

"Even when I win, I lose."
"Life is not a box of chocolates. Life is an endless game of whack-a-mole."

This Day

It wasn't a good one. Still isn't. I've made my choices, and I stand by them. But... All I can think of now is how many of my past choices have lead to the pain of others. I carry a lot of guilt. Maybe I deserve it, maybe I don't. But I carry it regardless. I've accepted it all; these things I was and am, at least in part, responsible for. I tell the truth when I say I've accepted it, but I lie when I say I've moved past it.

I haven't. I can't.

The more good things I remember about my father,the more I understand about the man he was and the man he became, the easier it is to forgive him. But forgiving myself? That is nearly impossible at this point. They say hindsight is 20/20, and they're certainly right. I have so much regret. I said so many awful things. I allowed myself to be blinded by my negative feelings and things spiraled out of control. He's gone now. And that's my fault. Yes, there was his failing health, and yes, he chose to stop taking his medications. But that was my fault too. If I'd been a better daughter, maybe he would've had something to hold on for. Maybe he would have fought. Maybe he'd still be here. How many people did I rob? How many good moments will never happen now, because of me? And what right do I have to move past it? I shouldn't. What I did, what I said...Who I was. It was all horrible. Selfish, and shortsighted. I was so afraid to be vulnerable, and that fear ended up destroying everything around me.

What happened to my mother is my fault as well. Directly. I should have watched her more carefully. I should have kept myself in better control. This time, I was vulnerable, and I let it show. And the vulnerability nearly destroyed my world further. It was sheer luck that my mother survived. It was my fault she was endangered in the first place. I'll probably never be able to forgive myself and move past that, either.

And now... Now she's wondering if she made the right decision to move. I don't know what to say, or what to do. Her depression is coming back, and coming back strongly.

I'd be a fool if I said that mine wasn't returning in some form as well. I'll never say it beyond here though. I can't. The people around me, what precious few I have, need me to be strong, not vulnerable. But I know I can't just not feel either; that doesn't work. I need to make a decision, and once again, I don't know what's right.

The guilt over what happened, and the indecision and fear over what could...  It's enough to make me feel physically sick. I'm so tired lately. Everything's sore and achy, and I feel ill. I sleep for too long, but I don't rest. I get terrible headaches and my whole being just hurts. I want to just look away, even for a few moments, but I could never do that. I owe too many too much.
I'd hope for someone to lean on, but my burdens are too heavy. These things shouldn't be shared between people; it's dangerous. Besides that, I don't know how to rely on others, I don't know how to ask for help or even comfort. My guilt won't let me be comforted anyway. All of what I feel now is a direct product of my past actions. I don't deserve to be comforted. I have to handle whatever's on its way on my own. It's always been like that. It's the only way I know how to protect the people I care about.

So if I pull away for a time, if I put my walls back up and hide away... It's not because I don't care or don't want to spend time with my dear ones. It's the opposite. I hate doing it, but it's the only way I know how to protect them from what I feel. I don't want to drag anyone else into my troubles, I don't want anyone else to try to help bear my guilt. It's too much to put on people who don't deserve it.

I'll get through it. I always do. But I can't take anyone with me for fear of losing them along the way. I can face myself and my guilt, and I can get my mother back on the right path, but I'll have to do it alone. It's the only way I can be honest with myself. If there was someone else there, I'd never be able to take these walls down, and I'll end up exactly where I started all those years ago.

I'm ready. It'll be okay. I know what needs to be done, and I know I can do it. I won't let things fall apart a second time. No one's breaking. No one's dying. There won't be anything to be guilty for. It'll be okay.

"There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief."
                                                                                          --Aeschylus

Lynx

Cynicism, Cowardice, and the Three Step Solution to My Problem

“Life is such unutterable hell, solely because it is sometimes beautiful. If we could only be miserable all the time, if there could be no such things as love or beauty or faith or hope, if I could be absolutely certain that my love would never be returned: how much more simple life would be. One could plod through the Siberian salt mines of existence without being bothered about happiness.” 
― T.H. White, Alfred Hitchcock Presents: Stories That Scared Even Me

Precisely. Life would be so much easier, so much simpler, if I just didn't have to worry about these things. But, you know what? Life's not easy. Life's not simple. No matter how much I wish I didn't have to feel or see the beautiful things, no matter how much I'd rather just duck my head and stick to the things I know I can accomplish... I wake up in the morning, and Life reminds me, "Hey. You're human. You're gonna feel. You're gonna fear. Because you're human. And you're alive. So what're you gonna do about it?"

Honestly, I don't know. I don't have the slightest idea, because there's no guide book, no manual for this. No one's ever written a book on "how to live the right way" or "how to feel properly"... Because everyone's different.. That, or it's just never been done. The prideful part of me always screams at me to buck up and be brave. Be true. This part of me is reckless, clamoring to just go for it, just take the risk and see what happens. Another part of me suggests caution. Caution then mutates into hesitation, which gives way to doubt and the cycle continues. Doubt and hesitate, doubt and hesitate.

A third part of me just laughs and says, "Lynx. You're screwed. Run for it."

Sometimes I think the coward in me is the smartest side of myself. And also the bravest. Sometimes, I feel like an act of cowardice, running away, takes more grit and bravery than sticking around to see what happens. Sometimes it's easier to say, "Heeey, I'm on a roll, let's bet again and maybe I'll win," than it is to say, "Heey, I'm on a roll, but momentum only lasts so long." Er. Do I have that backwards? Because a lot of people would say, "Nothing wagered, nothing gained." I think they forget the other side of that coin: "Too much wagered, too much lost."

There are, I suppose, two different kinds of bravery. The first is the kind that people typically recognize; the kind that sticks it out and takes the risk and doesn't back down. The second is the quiet kind. This bravery stays quiet and walks away, having decided that it's better to not know at all than to suffer. I don't know which one is smarter. Or if they're both moronic. I don't know a lot of things. But I do know that I'm terrified.

If I jump, if I decide to let go and fall... How hard will I hit if there's nothing there to catch me?
If I run, if I say "fucking screw it"... How much time will I waste contemplating the phrase "what if"?
And if I do nothing... How long until I lose the rest of my sanity, do something stupid, and end up with less than I started with?

I know me. I'm not confident with much. I'm really not confident with feelings. I can sort out other people no problem, but me... My brain and my heart are too interconnected in this jumbled mess for me to even begin to make sense of it all. It's all tangled together in this giant, messy knot.

So what do I do? I think. I think hard. What am I wishing for? Is it realistic?

That always gets me. Is it realistic? Well I don't bloody know, do I? If I did, there wouldn't be a problem, because if it was realistic, I'd have gone for it already; and if it wasn't, well that'd be the end of it!

And then I have an "Aha!" moment. Transference. Displacement. Mental mutation. That last one sounds a bit creepy, but it's also the best description of the three. This is my Three Step Solution to Heartsickness Which May or May Not Be Just Another Form of Running Like Hell.

Step One: Admit it.
Check.
Step Two: Express it.
Twelve line poem? Check.
Step Three: Turn it into something else.
This one takes time and diligence, and is also where the "running like hell" bit comes in. The last person I loved, I still love. But not in that way. Practice lying to yourself in the mirror and remember to smile (smiling makes it hurt less). Be decisive. Whenever the thought, "but what if" enters your mind, snuff it out. Say, "No. This is how it is."

Keep. Your. Distance. It's hard to not like people when they're always charming you, so make yourself tougher to charm.


.... I just came to the awkward realization that I never take my own advice, especially when it sucks. What kind of sick masochist is going to tolerate a giant "WHAT IF" hanging over their head for an indefinite amount of time? And if, as it so often goes, this person is a friend and you distance yourself from them... What does that say of you, where the friendship is concerned?

THE REAL STEP THREE: ??? I don't bloody know. Choose something, and stand by your decision.
I have written all of this and am no closer to an answer than I was an hour ago. I may have even just confused myself more.
Haha. Only me.

I have become an expert in talking myself in circles.

Cheers,

Lynx

An Unpleasant Case of Deja-Vu

That probably looks really grim, considering the last post. But things are actually alright here. Anyway. On the first of July, two years ago, I wrote:

"Dear Brain: Shut up. Or think about something else. Your nagging over the past three days has become annoying to the point where I'm considering a lobotomy via crochet hook.

Dear Heart: Stop agreeing with the brain. You two are supposed to always be conflicting, and it's unsettling when you agree. Also, stop trying to make your way onto my sleeve; you don't belong there.

Dear Subconscious: No. Just no.

Dear Cupid: STOP SHOOTING ME, YOU LITTLE PEST! I get it, okay? The issue has been dealt with so go pick on someone else!

*grumble* My mind needs an off switch."

A few days ago I came to a horrifying realization: Here we are again, with the same thoughts for the same reason. The person is different though, which I'm grateful for because, damn it's been forever. But still. Gimme a break. Stuck writing poetry about this nonsense, my fingers are slipping up typing the most irritating and embarrassing Freudian slips... *headdesk* The issue has not been dealt with though, nor do I think it's going to be. I remember what happened the last time, and I'm really not willing to go through that a second time when I already know the outcome. Just wastes time.

Hopefully what worked before will work again and life will return to some semblance of normal. After all, if you lie to yourself enough, you might end up believing it. Bergen Evans, you genius you, lying really IS an indispensable part of making life tolerable. For now though, share my... Whatever this is. Frustration? Horror? Absolute shock and dismay?

The entire point of loving everyone was to make it so I wouldn't end up loving anyone. Not that way, at least. Jeez, brain, get with the program.

Just How Long? (I Lie to You)

Easy breathing and a steady heart beat
Soft thoughts; a gentle smile that you can't see
Times like this, when I'm raw and real and weak
I thank Heaven that you're blind to me

I don't want to permit this
But I can't push back what I know
So here I stay, with my head in the clouds
And my heart so far below

What I feel, what I fight
The truth stares back in frightened eyes
I pause and wonder, just how long have I been lying to you?
And for just how long will I continue to?

Shoot me now, before this worsens into something more than a twelve-line poem.

Lynx

Heavy

It's the only word I can think of to describe how things feel right now. It's not that things are chaotic right now; quite the opposite. Things seem calm. But it feels charged, like there's tension just below the surface. It makes me nervous. I don't know if I'm just being hypersensitive and expecting things to go downhill because that's how it always happens, or if it's something actually happening. There's pressure here; I know it. But I don't know why or when or where. It's calm for now, but it feels like the calm before the storm. I want to believe that it's just my cynicism, but... My cynicism is usually right.

I'm nervous. Fidgety. Anxious in a way that I can't explain.

Two nights ago, I started having flashbacks again. Of 2010. I don't understand why. Is it some sort of freak premonition, or just my subconscious playing cruel games with me? I know things aren't going perfectly here, but... It's nothing that can't be worked around. Mom seems happy, but there again... She did before, too. I really don't want to believe that she would do something like that again, she DID promise, after all.

But promises are easy to break.

I hope I'm just being paranoid. But until this tension clears, I don't think I'll be able to relax. Everything feels so tense, but maybe it's me. No matter. From here on, I watch that woman like a hawk. I don't repeat mistakes.

Ciao,

Lynx

"They say wisdom comes with time. That's not quite true. Wisdom comes with experience. Time and experience often go hand-in-hand, but not always. I haven't had much time, not really, but I've seen and experienced much. Wisdom is learned, not bestowed on you with silver hair." -- Your's Truly