Is there an icon for overwhelmed?
Sep. 27th, 2001 12:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
judecorpI'm not sure. I suppose I'll find out soon enough. I am currently walking around in a funk that's as blue as my windbreaker (though the windbreaker is smurfy Hofstra blue, not Eeyore gloomy blue), and I thought I would try to formulate it into words. Of course, I'm going to have to file this one under "Ways NOT To Make Friends and Influence People."
~//~
In December of 1997 I made a promise to someone that I would marry them. I made a promise that I would stand by them no matter what. That I would love them, and they would love me, and that come what may, we would work things out. In August of 1999 I reaffirmed those promises in front of about 200 people, most of whom I care a great deal for (and some of you are out here in LJ-land, whee!). In July of 2001 I learned that my promises had no value. Me, the knight, Sir Jude the Chivalrous and Honorable. Promises that not only were worthless, but were not wanted. They were handed back to me.
In some ways, this was a relief. I made those promises without /my/ best intentions in mind, and perhaps it was time to get back to me. I also wasn't doing a very good job with them. Said someone wasn't happy. Happy was my job in a lot of ways, wasn't it? So it is time to move on, that's true, and I can totally accept that, even though I'm carrying a bag full of mislaid promises. Sometimes Honor Sucks.
This new freedom has allowed me to admit other feelings for other people, and that is a very cool and giddy thing. At the same time, it sets my overly-metacognitive mind a-whirring. Is this a good idea? Am I going to end up making everyone unhappy? Am I being fair? Am I setting myself onto a path of more promises, more honor, more 'thanks but no thanks' five years down the road? Or three? Or one? Is it fair to receive when one can't reciprocate? Is it fair to want people to crush on you and give you affection when you don't know if you can give it back? Is it fair to want affection from more than one person at the same time for different reasons? When someone says they understand, do they? When someone says that they know that a relationship isn't even a consideration for me at this time (and maybe not ever), do they still want one anyway? Are they hoping I change my mind? When they say, "Yours," do they mean, "Mine"? When they say, "I work well with Princesses," do they mean, "But I wish I didn't have to"?
I have so many conflicting emotions that transcribed themselves into dreams that began about terrorists and ended up about self-mutilation. (The connection? The box cutter knife that I saw at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
binkiegirl's when we were unpacking.) I carved so many words into my flesh in my dreams. (Note: I have never self-mutilated. I have no idea where my unconscious got this idea.)
Hurt.
Loyalty.
Lesbian.
Best Friend.
Butterflies.
Betrayal.
Honor.
Chivalry.
Justice.
Fairness.
Crush.
Love.
Love.
Love.
What does this mean? It means I got very little sleep, but aside from the obvious, I'm not entirely sure. It means that I'm in over my head. I have feelings that I promised myself I wouldn't, and I'm not letting myself enjoy them because I'm beating myself up about them. I have other feelings that add to the mix and sometimes it's like I'm in a spin-dryer. Bump. Bump. Bump.
Princesses love like their lives depend on it. Ninjas withstand their pain silently in the corner. And knights?
Knights slay dragons to feel powerful. Knights rescue damsels to be adored. Knights strive to be useful, because useful makes you feel good without making you vulnerable. Love is for princesses. Stoicism is for ninjas. Avoidance is for knights.
Every word I carved, every line left a little bit of blood. There wasn't much, not at first, because the blade was so sharp. There was no pain, only heat. The words glowed red with histamine and blood. I talked myself down from cutting off my left ring finger, and my breasts. I 'wrote' on my forehead, my chest, my stomach, my thighs, my arms. Not my calves. Not my neck. Not my shoulders. I carved her name on one palm, and hers on the other, and after kissing them both I pressed my hands together. In the heat. In the sting.
I was going to make this friends-only, because it documents extra-marital thought. Fuck it. Here comes little, naked me. Time for class.
~//~
In December of 1997 I made a promise to someone that I would marry them. I made a promise that I would stand by them no matter what. That I would love them, and they would love me, and that come what may, we would work things out. In August of 1999 I reaffirmed those promises in front of about 200 people, most of whom I care a great deal for (and some of you are out here in LJ-land, whee!). In July of 2001 I learned that my promises had no value. Me, the knight, Sir Jude the Chivalrous and Honorable. Promises that not only were worthless, but were not wanted. They were handed back to me.
In some ways, this was a relief. I made those promises without /my/ best intentions in mind, and perhaps it was time to get back to me. I also wasn't doing a very good job with them. Said someone wasn't happy. Happy was my job in a lot of ways, wasn't it? So it is time to move on, that's true, and I can totally accept that, even though I'm carrying a bag full of mislaid promises. Sometimes Honor Sucks.
This new freedom has allowed me to admit other feelings for other people, and that is a very cool and giddy thing. At the same time, it sets my overly-metacognitive mind a-whirring. Is this a good idea? Am I going to end up making everyone unhappy? Am I being fair? Am I setting myself onto a path of more promises, more honor, more 'thanks but no thanks' five years down the road? Or three? Or one? Is it fair to receive when one can't reciprocate? Is it fair to want people to crush on you and give you affection when you don't know if you can give it back? Is it fair to want affection from more than one person at the same time for different reasons? When someone says they understand, do they? When someone says that they know that a relationship isn't even a consideration for me at this time (and maybe not ever), do they still want one anyway? Are they hoping I change my mind? When they say, "Yours," do they mean, "Mine"? When they say, "I work well with Princesses," do they mean, "But I wish I didn't have to"?
I have so many conflicting emotions that transcribed themselves into dreams that began about terrorists and ended up about self-mutilation. (The connection? The box cutter knife that I saw at
binkiegirl's when we were unpacking.) I carved so many words into my flesh in my dreams. (Note: I have never self-mutilated. I have no idea where my unconscious got this idea.)Hurt.
Loyalty.
Lesbian.
Best Friend.
Butterflies.
Betrayal.
Honor.
Chivalry.
Justice.
Fairness.
Crush.
Love.
Love.
Love.
What does this mean? It means I got very little sleep, but aside from the obvious, I'm not entirely sure. It means that I'm in over my head. I have feelings that I promised myself I wouldn't, and I'm not letting myself enjoy them because I'm beating myself up about them. I have other feelings that add to the mix and sometimes it's like I'm in a spin-dryer. Bump. Bump. Bump.
Princesses love like their lives depend on it. Ninjas withstand their pain silently in the corner. And knights?
Knights slay dragons to feel powerful. Knights rescue damsels to be adored. Knights strive to be useful, because useful makes you feel good without making you vulnerable. Love is for princesses. Stoicism is for ninjas. Avoidance is for knights.
Every word I carved, every line left a little bit of blood. There wasn't much, not at first, because the blade was so sharp. There was no pain, only heat. The words glowed red with histamine and blood. I talked myself down from cutting off my left ring finger, and my breasts. I 'wrote' on my forehead, my chest, my stomach, my thighs, my arms. Not my calves. Not my neck. Not my shoulders. I carved her name on one palm, and hers on the other, and after kissing them both I pressed my hands together. In the heat. In the sting.
I was going to make this friends-only, because it documents extra-marital thought. Fuck it. Here comes little, naked me. Time for class.
