Insecurity
Dec. 14th, 2005 07:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormNow there's a word I haven't had show up in my livejournal for some time. I wonder if this is because I have time now? Because I'm sleeping, and my personality changes when I'm sleeping? I won't worry, for now, about whys. Let's look at what I've got. This is straight out of my brain, unedited, so don't worry about it, hm?
I'm in a relationship with someone who does not need me. He likes me, he's glad to have me around, but his world does not collapse when I'm not around-- instead it continues on, as interesting as before, with no diminishment. This is frightening. Have I been here before? I don't think so. I can't remember. Why would anyone stay with me if they don't need me?
I don't have enough time to spend with my rats, and keeping my home nice. I can't just wander home to my bed without feeling guilty about not having cleaned up my room. The fish need a water change. I keep putting off housekeeping in order to spend time with people, and then I feel guilty for enjoying that.
I haven't been home to sleep for a long time. I haven't been home at all except for very brief runthroughs for a long time. As I told Bevan last night, my mornings are always spent on someone else's computer as the sun rises-- not eating breakfast with someone, not in real solitude, just in that kind of absence that happens when bodies are here but souls are flown. I need to spend some time by myself. I always have trouble recognising this, and I gather irritability about myself.
If I spend time by myself, if I step out of this flow for even one night, someone will forget me. I'll be lost, uncared-for, the momentum will be broken. I'll be too drained to start up again.
There isn't enough of me to go around. I'm too scarce a resource. I'm too busy to be with the people I love as much as I want to be. When I'm elsewhere they'll be hurt and bored, and wander away.
I'm not perfect at work yet. These are plants, I should know them, and yet there's me overwatering a ficus or letting a spath go dry. How can this be taking so long to pick up?
How can I not even know if I have enough money to move? Why are my expenses always in flux?
I miss one-on-one conversations so badly that I'm rusty, I stumble, I draw back, I forget what do do. I miss them. I'm lonely in here. This is my twelve-year-old surfacing, I know, who used to draw all her intimacy from such things. Now? All I want to do is talk and wander around the city. Work seems to be an inconvenience. I suppose that had to happen sometime.
I'm impatient with myself. I've forgotten to look at myself, as well as my life and other people, with tenderness. I've forgotten to hug myself when I want to be hugged, because so many other arms have been available. I've been putting out emotionally for awhile, starting things, giving, yet I've forgotten to recieve much. In some cases, I haven't figured out how to recieve yet. Energy needs to cycle or it disappears.
The arms around my shoulders that I'm craving right now need to be my own. There's their weight, there's a cradle for me. It's alright, Greenie, it's alright. You should sleep more, love. Remember the feeling of warmth under the covers? Remember the feeling of warm shower water? Those are parts of your life. Let's go for breakfast on the weekend when no one else is awake. We can wander through the sunrise together and look at the frost, or the dew. Let's take care of ourself, wear nice clothing tonight because it feels good to do so. Let's go activity-lite this weekend. Let's spend more time in bed.
I see the sun has risen out there, a blue field with the heather outside the window silhouetted against it. It's a sunny winter. The sun is a joy to me. I need to find somewhere it spills in a window, and lay in it.
Wait. That's my bedroom. My home.
I'm in a relationship with someone who does not need me. He likes me, he's glad to have me around, but his world does not collapse when I'm not around-- instead it continues on, as interesting as before, with no diminishment. This is frightening. Have I been here before? I don't think so. I can't remember. Why would anyone stay with me if they don't need me?
I don't have enough time to spend with my rats, and keeping my home nice. I can't just wander home to my bed without feeling guilty about not having cleaned up my room. The fish need a water change. I keep putting off housekeeping in order to spend time with people, and then I feel guilty for enjoying that.
I haven't been home to sleep for a long time. I haven't been home at all except for very brief runthroughs for a long time. As I told Bevan last night, my mornings are always spent on someone else's computer as the sun rises-- not eating breakfast with someone, not in real solitude, just in that kind of absence that happens when bodies are here but souls are flown. I need to spend some time by myself. I always have trouble recognising this, and I gather irritability about myself.
If I spend time by myself, if I step out of this flow for even one night, someone will forget me. I'll be lost, uncared-for, the momentum will be broken. I'll be too drained to start up again.
There isn't enough of me to go around. I'm too scarce a resource. I'm too busy to be with the people I love as much as I want to be. When I'm elsewhere they'll be hurt and bored, and wander away.
I'm not perfect at work yet. These are plants, I should know them, and yet there's me overwatering a ficus or letting a spath go dry. How can this be taking so long to pick up?
How can I not even know if I have enough money to move? Why are my expenses always in flux?
I miss one-on-one conversations so badly that I'm rusty, I stumble, I draw back, I forget what do do. I miss them. I'm lonely in here. This is my twelve-year-old surfacing, I know, who used to draw all her intimacy from such things. Now? All I want to do is talk and wander around the city. Work seems to be an inconvenience. I suppose that had to happen sometime.
I'm impatient with myself. I've forgotten to look at myself, as well as my life and other people, with tenderness. I've forgotten to hug myself when I want to be hugged, because so many other arms have been available. I've been putting out emotionally for awhile, starting things, giving, yet I've forgotten to recieve much. In some cases, I haven't figured out how to recieve yet. Energy needs to cycle or it disappears.
The arms around my shoulders that I'm craving right now need to be my own. There's their weight, there's a cradle for me. It's alright, Greenie, it's alright. You should sleep more, love. Remember the feeling of warmth under the covers? Remember the feeling of warm shower water? Those are parts of your life. Let's go for breakfast on the weekend when no one else is awake. We can wander through the sunrise together and look at the frost, or the dew. Let's take care of ourself, wear nice clothing tonight because it feels good to do so. Let's go activity-lite this weekend. Let's spend more time in bed.
I see the sun has risen out there, a blue field with the heather outside the window silhouetted against it. It's a sunny winter. The sun is a joy to me. I need to find somewhere it spills in a window, and lay in it.
Wait. That's my bedroom. My home.
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Snuggle
Date: 2005-12-14 06:11 pm (UTC)It's a pity our times don't collide much anymore for chatting. Though I don't know that a non-face-to-face chat would fit the bill.
I had noticed the lack of rat commentary of late. I hope they're still all doing well.
You still owe me an email, too, if you ever slow down long enough to write one.
And I've run out of things I can comment on, and lunch break is over, so I'll just send hugs and remind you that you've got a friend.
Re: Snuggle
Date: 2005-12-14 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-14 06:31 pm (UTC)as for money for moving, it all depends where and when. we can talk about that sometime, as I'm far too experienced in moving, and you might be moving in with me - something we also need to discuss, ie: is this a good idea or would we grow into each other too much or just kill each other?
reminds me to do storage locker stuff, anywho.