|From Normal is Just a Setting on the Dryer: And Other Lessons from the Real, Real World by Adair Lara|
What is it about me? It has always seemed to be this way, I fucking hate it. I can be sitting in a room of people who are having conversation about baseball and when I join the conversation...it stops. And that's when I can join a conversation. A lot times, I don't even have anything to add. All my working years, it would seem that inevitably I would end up working with the designer purse and manicure set, and there is nothing wrong with that except that I have no interest and will never be able to wrap my head around spending more that I make on a purse that's just going to get dirty anyway. So, since I never knew when anything was on sale or who did the best acrylic tips, I said nothing which always seems to be construed as snobbery.
This is exactly why those years are filled with trouble. I can only ever be who I am. I can only ever come to you from where I am. It's a hard place to be. I know through personal contact and the grapevine that most of the people that I would have tagged know exactly what I mean. But to expound upon that makes me sound like Charlie Sheen. There, did you see it? Right there in that sentence...expound. I have to work not to use the words that most people have struggle to use. Which means that people don't understand me, because well, like this guy says:
If that makes no sense, all I can say to ye is get thee to Idiocracy and it will all become clear.
I seem to be on this string of bad days that I just can't shake. I try and look at it from the POV of a podcast I heard awhile back that counseled when you are working at something and you have days like this it's normal. It is just sort of the wake that you are creating with your activity disturbing your usually calm waters. (God, I wish I could talk like a normal person sometimes.) So, in trying to look at things from that perspective and pushing along I try to envision that the end result is going to be worth all this...
...but I am not really sure. I have a couple of irons in the proverbial fire right now. They both appeal to me for different reasons, and they actually once everything gets ramped up should fit together quite nicely. Assuming I don't have a complete nervous breakdown in the process. One of the distinct disabilities that I am facing is that over time, lack of positive response to communications on my part has wore me down, and I find myself somewhat sociaphobic. Or maybe it's just phonophobic combined with katagelophobia. Or maybe I am just plumb crazy.
I don't know the more I try to push through the more unbalanced I feel. The more I try to reach out, the more alone I feel. The more I just try and fake it 'til I make it, pretend that everything is as it should be, the more I can see that it is not.
I have a had an extraordinarily bad night tonight. nights like tonight make me question just about everything because despite my BEST effort all day, I got nothing but shit thrown at me from multiple directions. Days like today, make me really, really want to just throw in the towel. Okay, y'all win, I'll never amount to anything, I'm just a big loser like y've been saying behind my back for years. I'm serious. I am in some heavy duty line of wondering if I just haven't been delusional all these years thinking that I was going to be something...shrug, I can't even finish it.
Maybe my shit is all retarded...(no offense meant there, it's a quote.)