Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Come Fill Me to the Parting Glass

I was watching Once Upon A Time, but wasn't really feeling that. I should be cleaning because we've got checks tomorrow, but I'm not feeling that. So I find myself here. There is absolutely nothing in particular that I want to write about, whenever I do have something then it gets me in trouble. So I'm interested to find out where this will lead me.

Now I feel as though I have to be careful about what I write because I know that people read it. I don't want to say the wrong thing or write something that confuses people. What I write on this blog is there for me and me alone. I write because it helps me to figure out what I want to say, what I am trying to think, and what I am doing with my life. It is completely there for self-analysis. Even when I am not writing about myself, as I am now, everything is somehow related to what I am thinking about. Whether it is because I need to remind myself that the stars are still there beyond the haze of stress and city lights or that I can really become someone. Maybe I just need to remember that there is something out there that I do just for me.

I don't want to have to watch everything that I write. Trying to find the best word for what I want to say because if I try to explain it then you might become lost in the process. That is a big part about what having ADD means to me. Most people go from Point A to Point B through some straight and direct path. But I go all the way to Point Z and then to M and back to A and round and round. It is direct to me and I wouldn't have it any other way. For me, there is joy in the journey as well as the destination. Deciding that I am finally at a destination means that I have looked at every possible alternative that I can think of and decided that I picked the one that will make me the happiest overall.

If you are not into psycho-analysis then I advise you to tune out now.

What is it about me that makes me think that I have to cope with everything? It is like I need to protect myself from everything and everyone, even the smallest moments. I have lowered my expectations to just above rock bottom that way I feel as though I will never be disappointed. It is a little extreme to say that I like to see the worst in everything and am pleasantly surprised when things turn out well. That is not at all the case. First of all, when it comes to other people's lives I always assume the best. My friends deserve no less than the best because they are the best. They are stunning, sweet, talented, graceful, funny, smart, and amazing in every possible way. I just know that life has so much goodness in store for them.

However, when it comes to anything in my life then I automatically assume the worst. I assume that I have absolutely no affect on the lives of anyone but my own. No one thinks of me, ever. In any context. I just do not merit being thought about. I feel like I am plain in every possible way. In friendships, I always assume that I am the 'lesser' friend. In school, now at least, I always know there is someone smarter than me so I never try to be smart. No one wants to really get to know me, they just want to talk about themselves. I've found that when I'm talking with someone and they start to ask me about me, I always say something wrong or with the wrong inflection and they are instantly bored. They ask obligatory questions because they know that is what they are supposed to do. However, I give up on that because I don't want to talk about myself to someone who is not going to listen. So I ask them about themselves. They'll ask me questions, sometimes. I'll give short, concise answers where I reveal just enough of myself to stand out against the typical but not enough to flesh me out. I tell people about who I really am and some how that comes back to bite me.

Part of that isn't true, but it is kind of how I see things. I don't know how I became this beast of survival. Somehow I shut down. On some level I shut down. I don't ever want to show I'm more interested in someone, when I really am, if I don't think that they are interested in me. If I don't absolutely know for sure, then I am not going to do anything. Maybe I feel that it exposes weakness. It is like I am a dragon and by showing I have a tie with some person is like rolling over in the middle of a mob of angry villagers with sharp objects and showing them my soft underbelly. I don't know who the villagers are. Well, okay. I do. I am so untrusting of people. I imagine the villagers as being that person and those who know because they can exploit it. They can stick a hot firebrand into my belly and watch me squirm because they know how to hurt me. I can't see into the dark parts of everyone's soul and so I assume that there is some part of everyone that wants to hurt me. That wants to reject me. If I were ever to show my whole self, all of what I thought and felt and dreamt, that they would reject me.

I have yet to be proven different.

My dad said that I'm like my mom. We both just put up walls against absolutely everyone. He has no idea why. He is a gruff guy, but deep down at the core he is an open nerve. Sometimes he can just let things roll off, but other times when someone says something to him he lets it really hurt him. I don't know what me me like this, I don't know how I got this way. I figured that it wasn't worth heartbreak or anything when I was younger. Maybe it was because I moved so much, I just thought this was a good way to stay happy. Because thats what I think I'm doing when I do this, when I keep to myself and block others out. I think that I am protecting my happiness.

I think another thing is that I do not want to let anyone in who does not honestly want to be there. Just asking questions is not enough. You have to want to know the answer. To know the honest answer. To expect the honest answer. You have to listen. You have to know when I give you the 'condensed' story and want to hear the full one because that is what will help you get to know me. You have to push me and push me and push me. I don't give in easily. I am stubborn as they come. I can promise that you have never met anyone quite as stubborn as I am. I do not allow anyone into my mind who I do not think is 'worthy'. That takes time. There is no particular amount of time. It depends on how hard you push. If I don't shove back, then you're on the right path. But once you push me far enough that I have no more walls to hide behind, that is when I will take your hand and walk the path with you.

But you will have to be patient. Whoever you are.

You will have to know that I am sincerely trying. I don't want to be this way. It is a hard life to life, never having anyone that you can lean on. I have my family, and that is really all that I need. But when I am away from them, it is so hard some days to put on a smile when all I want to do is sit on my bed and talk the problem out completely with someone. I don't want to be like this. All I have to trust in now is this blog. Yes, I have friends. Don't get me wrong. But they all have their own problems. And more often than not I do not feel like I am worth the amount of time it would take for them to listen. They have so many better things that they could be doing and are doing.

It is my fault. I know that. I accept full blame for any relationship that goes wrong because I am this way. In some ways I feel like I am broken. There is a character in Once Upon a Time who does not have a heart. And I relate to him more than I ever thought that I would. He does things just to find out how to feel again, and that is what I do. I have to learn how to use my heart. That is something that cannot be taught and I guess I wasn't born with it. I am finding out how to make myself feel things, and the safest way to do that is on my own. But safe is overrated, right? Right. So I try. However, my efforts are never enough for normal human beings. They can't understand me, what I am. At least they haven't as far as I know.

I like to think that there is someone out there who is willing to push me and push me and wait for me to start pushing back. Someone who will actually stick around through stubborn me to find the real me. But I honestly think I am asking way too much out of mankind for that. Even just for a friend. No one has time to do that, and no one has the motivation to do so. When you can't see what the prize at the end is, what is the thing driving you on? That is just it, there isn't anything. People can't see what I am and so there is nothing keeping them searching. They search on faith, faith that there is someone underneath all of my shells that is something resembling what they think it is. But my stubbornness is stronger than anyone's will to search. Just as I think that someone is going to keep pushing, and I can feel that I am about to cave in, they give up because they have been trying for too long.

That is the way it is with friends, with people I like, with my family. They push, but they hit the point of their breaking right before they get to mine. I get so excited. Finally, there is someone who I can talk to who actually cares about what I have to say at that moment! Oh, wait. Nope. I did it again. I overestimated their motivation. And once again I am left on my own.

I made myself this way. There is some part of me that has always been like this. I keep trying to open myself up. I do! I do! I do! You do not understand how difficult this is for me. Life is so much easier with my dragon shell up. I experience happiness this way. I am never reliant on others for my feelings and that has it's own kind of freedom. And I'm a freedom junkie. However, I know that this way I can never feel joy. I need to be pushed to the brink of truth and trust and I need to fall and give in. Yes, I'll experience the extremes of lows, or at least I'll put myself at that risk because I know it is worth it for those incredible highs. The height of feeling will be higher than anything I've known. But that requires someone who is willing to take a chance on me. And who is willing to push.

I promise that I'll do what I can to tear down the walls on my side. I've gotten better. I almost ripped them all down last time. Until I hit the last little bit of brick wall. The person gave up on their side of the wall. They began to see only the bricks, and not the walls that were being removed. I saw the walls. I could feel the breeze from the freedom of the other side. The sun was there. The air was sweeter. But they gave up just as I almost finished the last bit of bricks. It was not worth it.

So I picked up my mortar and began rebuilding them again.

The only way that anyone could possibly bear to be near me is to see things from my side. To see how I look at things. Because that will help it all make more sense.

Right now I am just a crazy person who has done a little bit too much self reflection. I don't want to be the person who shuts everything and everyone out because she is perfectly happy on her own. I want someone to be there with me. But that person needs to want to be there. No matter how hard it is, they have to stick it out. They have to be determined that I am who I say I am and they have to want to find that out. But, let's be real. That person doesn't exist. No normal human being can be that persistant. And I'm sorry for that.

I blame the mountains and the stars for this post tonight. Oh, and Ed Sheeran. That is a deadly triple threat. There is no where that I would rather be than up in the mountains right now. Laying out. Looking at the stars. If I had a car, I'd be up there right now. I'd pull an all-nighter because it would be worth it just to feel that starlight on my skin. To feel alive. To be a part of nature. And to allow nature into your consciousness and allow it to change you.

My dear moon stuck it out and now I think that the Moon and Stars know more about me than anything else ever has. They are always there and they always want to listen. They have seen me on my good days, on my bad. And yet they continue to be there. They continue to reach out and touch my soul, just enough to get my mind going. Tonight they pushed my soul just enough. It was more than I could simply think about, so I had to write.

I work early morning shifts, so I get to see some parts of Provo that no one ever does. This morning is what started me thinking about all of this. I looked out the window of the building I work in and I saw the mountains completely covered in snow. The sun was rising on the other side and the tips were pink. For some reason it was so beautiful that it almost moved me to tears. I don't know what it is about that image that just struck me so hard. It was like someone had hit my chest with a semi-truck. I knew there was no other place I would rather be than waking up in a tent in the mountains to that red dawn. I know that I'd want someone next to me, but that doesn't matter. Again, I need to watch what I say on these blogs or else everyone will know about me... yeah no.

Anyways, I saw that and I thought of all the people I knew that I would want up on that mountain top with me. Everyone would be too busy. Naturally. I'm a busy person too. But when I see that, and I know that is where I want to be, I need to find someone crazy enough to want to be there too.

BUT. It is late. I've got work at 5. And this week is going to be crazy.


P.S. If you want to read some of what I've written this week (about random shiz. specifically for a book that I think I might write...), message/text me or comment on this post or something. or you can message me on Tumblr here. And you can even do it anonymous if you want. Just give me somewhere to send it.


  1. Liked the words growing on the impenetrable wall. This thing with dragon shells is not unfamiliar for me either. It's warm and cozy, and absolutely puts up a strange resistance against other people. It's awkward and, at the same time, strangely comfortable.

    1. Completely and utterly comfortable, but that is exactly what makes me different from others. Is that what creates awkwardness? I'd have to say yes, but as to what side is to blame depends on how you approach a situation

    2. Oops, I overlooked the reply button, and instead, posted another comment in reply. Sorry, Emily!

  2. The crux of this situation is that there is no one, absolutely no one, to blame. I like being different, and it intrigues me as well. Driven by the stars, (I won't say star-crossed a la the English bard), my impulse to get away from the madding crowd, and its resultant awkwardness, soar through the hymn of humankind and its long and melancholy roar!

    1. Driven by the stars is a fantastic term for it. In some ways I feel as though the stars themselves are helping me along my way, just their presence centers me and makes me feel at home somehow in a way that I might not feel in my apartment or in a room full of people, regardless of whether I know them or not.

      You have a beautiful way of writing!

    2. I know, I exactly know what you mean! It is like a calling, a rare invitation into the hidden design of this universe. Here, in a big and noisy city in India, I sometimes look up to the sky. I see some clouds here and there, some sparkling stars, and a strange sense of being attuned to something greater.

      Thank you for the complement. I've stopped writing on my blog two years ago. The words left me all of a sudden.

      I think you write exceptionally well. Your words carry the psalm of a long-forgotten brook, as perceived by a starry-eyed girl! :-)

    3. I think that you should pick it back up again! Just start writing with no preconceived ideas of what you need to put down. I would love to read it.

      You, my writing friend, are an old soul. Someone who's existence seems to transcend eras. Only those kinds of people find that kind of energy in the stars. Only those souls find the time to pause and notice that they even exist.

  3. The words have deserted me, Emily. They won't get back. It's sad, actually :-(

    You can go through my old posts, though. I miss myself at times, miss the boy who had written those back-posts. Since then, the lunatic has started romping on the grass. The times they are a-changin', indeed.

    Keep on weaving words, Emily, my friend. It's a gift from the stars.

  4. It's not related to this post. In fact, you can delete this comment after reading it. Since I do not know your e-mail ID, I'll write it down here! I'm a little excited, and may be, a little out of breath. Just a few minutes back, after I finished my work, I went to the roof, and saw a sprinting star! I was taken aback a little, but, boy!- it was a meteor! Just before then, I was contemplating a line of The Orestian Trilogy. But, suddenly, the fire of that star made me forget my Aeschylus, my empire of resplendent stars,- it was more like hearing an audacious piano manoeuvre from the four boys of Liverpool amidst a stiff upper-lipped classical concert! It was like a faint trace of our rainbow race in the sky! It was inexplicable fun! Had to share it with some my friends! Take care!

    1. That sounds absolutely incredible! I'm glad you said it. Which line of the Orestian Trilogy??

    2. I was contemplating the watchman's thought: 'The nightly conference of stars, resplendent rulers, bringing heat and cold in turn, studding the sky with beauty....' (Penguin Classics, Edited by Philip Vellacott.

      Interestingly, I've never liked Cassandra. She met a tragic fate, though. Do you like her?

      Perhaps, it's in my wicked nature that Clytemnestra fascinates me, just like her sister!