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I'm falling apart [Written 6/21]

Still working on that entry about stuff that happened about 4 or 5 weeks ago now. Everything--my online silence, in particular--will make more sense when I post it, but I'm too emotionally drained to finish it. I'm only about halfway done and it's forever long. Maybe I'll just post what I have and get around to doing the rest later.


The window in front of me is made of that horrible warped "privacy glass" that I hate, but it forces the purple sky and black trees outside into a fabulous raspberry swirl, so I can't complain tonight.


I haven't been hungry in over a week now. I'm on medications to stop things and start things and my body is so confused. Stopping the chemical that tells you you're full (side effect): check. Regulating menstruation: check? Slowing digestive system (side effect): check. Suppressing histamine production: check? Suppressing appetite (side effect): check? Enhancing digestive system: check. Stopping ovulation: check. Speeding up digestive system: check. Suppressing serotonin: check. Enhancing ability to focus (supposed side effect): check?

Things to fix things caused by other things that are the result of things that my body is insistent on doing no matter how much I beat it into submission. I keep wanting to embrace my latest philosophical ideal--working with the body, instead of against it--but I'm having trouble. Maybe it's meant to be an ideal and not a practice.

I always challenge myself with new ways of thinking and acting and being that I think would improve me as a person and benefit myself and those around me, but what's the point? I like the idea of myself as a continual process, but final products are awfully satisfying, aren't they? When you can say, "I made it! I'm here!"--it's a great feeling.

I guess I get down on myself sometimes because as soon as I've reached one peak, I realize that I've really just been messing around in the foothills the whole time. I'm a vast improvement on what I was 10 years ago, and I'm really interested to see how I'll evolve in the next 10 years, but at no point do I really feel that I can justifiably say, "I did this. I accomplished this. I made it." Recently I've been into human relations, racial awareness, sympathy vs. empathy, working for the whole and not only the self, etc., but although I've made progress, I'm nowhere near finished. Nor will I ever be.

Death is such a cheat because you work and work and you're so much better than you were when you were first assembled (for some people) and then you die. A wasted product. If your lucky, you affect people in your life for the better, but there are so many people we unintentionally--or otherwise--affect for the worse, and they pass on your evil and the cycle perpetuates. It is so much harder to pass on good things. Our lives are good and so we take good things for granted; when dealt evil, we complain and beg for sympathy.

I have an amazingly slick life. I'm sure some people would laugh to read that, but they don't know what I mean. (Lord, can you tell I'm drinking on a Tuesday night?) The pieces of my life have always fit together a little too well. Every door hides happily until the perfect moment and then it opens, lovely and broad and unmistakable. I half-ass my way through things and yet the tracks line up perfectly like I had worked my ass off to make them fit. I went through all 13 years of USN just fine. I applied to 4 colleges--with a horrible half-assed application essay--and got into the one I wanted to go to. I applied for the Stanford University study abroad program in Japan--half-assed application--and got in. I had a job lined up for me after I finished college. I applied to one grad school--my application arrived late--and they decided to give me a huge monthly stipend to attend, plus they waived all tuition and fees. I applied--late, of course--for an apartment in Columbus, and got a nice one for decent rent.

I wrote an entry about this several months ago, but it seemed too self-centered, so I didn't post it. But it worries me. My life just keeps fitting together like some huge, horrible puzzle and I keep wondering what the final picture will be of. God's got something in mind, and I'm afraid to find out what it is. Everything's too perfect. Everything's settled, I have mega money in the bank, I live more than comfortably, I have a great boyfriend, when is the axe going to fall?

To my credit, I do work hard once I get past a transition point--it's working through the transitions that I recoil from. And yet the transitions take care of themselves and that scares me. What am I being set up for? What's the price of all of this?



Jun. 28th, 2005 07:30 pm (UTC)
sweetie I know what you were saying - i was mainly just playing. but relax life is never lacking thorns...don't go looking for them ;)

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