me me me

It is your birthday, and I have something special for you, something I wouldn't give just anyone: a plain English, un-cryptic, glimpse of... me. Ha!

I blog because I have an over-inflated sense of my literary ability but am not creative enough to tackle anything more sophisticated. I have this blog because it's a less stressful alternative to emailing. Email is so, 1-on-1, I can't help but wait for a reply. Not as in demand it; more like the same way I don't say something to someone without expecting some kind of reaction howsoever minimal. Whereas here, feedback is strictly icing-on-the-cake, as opposed to end-in-itself. (BUT do not tell me that you'd-comment-except-that-nobody-else-has. What is this, primary school? Yeah, you know who you are. *death glare*)

How was that b'day girl? You think the Doc will take the hint and help me honour my pledge to you? :p Anyway, moving along...

I am ready to leave home. Physically and (I detest this word even if I do embrace the concept) emotionally. To sever that invisible umbilical cord. I'll always want to do more for my family than is within my means or my will. But what I want for them is not necessarily what they want, or need. And in all fairness they ask very little of me; it's just that, of that which they do, I am largely incapable of delivering. So there's no point trying too hard. <= If that sounds negative it's not intended to. This attitude is best for everyone.

My world is very small at the moment. I can count with my socks on the number of people I have regular contact with. Beyond that I'm neither able nor willing to make an effort. It's pathetic, I know, and I hope it's only a phase - 'cos I'm getting bored with the lot I've been hangin' out with... Seriously though, unhappy ppl depress me, happy ppl embitter me, stupid ppl annoy me, intelligent ppl intimidate me, lazy ppl aggravate me, ambitious ppl frustrate me, etc. you get the picture. A no-win situation if you ask me, this socialising business. So I'm laying low.

I have the services of 1 or 2 toll-free, on call, albeit unlicensed, therapists. I feel blessed as anyone would to have someone put up with my endless repetitive BS. But more than that I am worried and scared. Because said therapists happen to be people I love and need, and I don't know what I'll do when at last my BS drives them away. How to not give my worst to the ones who matter the most, is by far my greatest dilemma.

I am amazed that I've liked (for want of any adequate yet un-melodramatic word) someone for this long (longer than I've had any job or serious hobby) and with an intensity so out of proportion to my limited knowledge and understanding of the person. In spite of everything, it is a good thing what happened to me. Comforting, for one, to know that contrary to previous suspicions I too am possessed of the full spectrum of human emotions. Not a day goes by that I don't think about what I could've done differently so that things wouldn't have turned out as badly as they have. But since time travel is unlikely to become commercially available in our lifetimes, I can but take my lessons and move on. I don't know when or where or for whom I'll feel this way again, but I look forward to it all.