My second favorite holiday is New Years, but my third favorite holiday is Christmas. However, something always seems to happen around Christmas and New Years. I don’t know if its the songs, or if its the snow, or if its the idea of starting anew… but the holidays always bring a bit of a nostalgic sadness to me.
That’s not really a problem, other than it bothers Maus. But I tell him, people are sad sometimes. He says, what is there to be sad about? Your life is beautiful!
Well, life IS beautiful, but sometimes beauty is juxtaposed with pain. The problem is that when I get to start feeling like this, my always present background nugget of total wretchedness likes to rear its ugly head. I start to think about my past, and I start to think about the times expectations were shattered at Christmas, which was very rare. I start to think about my childhood and all the Christmas’ in there. But when I think of my childhood, which was wonderful and everything a child would need, it stirs or reminds me of stuff.
I see myself on the balcony of a hotel, staring up into the ever present darkness of the night sky that swirls and swirls, sucking me in and devouring me. If only it could.
I see myself in front of a glowing television at the wee hours of the morning, watching in direct earnest at the people, and the scenes. The commercials, and the innuendo. Trying to understand what was going on, and knowing but not knowing. It says to me, “Walked on DOWN the hall!” I walk on down the hall, to my family. I am a point of light, I am a point of darkness, and I am dangerous.
I remember the book. The most evil book in existence, I actually threw it away. It’s the only book I ever threw away. I maintain that there are no evil books, they are just objects in space. What people do with the books is evil. However, this book is evil.
Sometimes I dream about it, and it’s part of a trilogy. But I can’t figure out what the other two books are. I want to know, but I only ever get one black covered volume. I find them over and over, this trilogy, and almost every time I vow to read them despite their total inappropriate existences. I’ve read a couple chapters, but… it just never gets anywhere.
I wonder if I used to be super sensitive to media because that was the first weapon? When I was having a lot of trouble, everything in the media plagued me in some way. It was everywhere, and I obsessed over words, pictures, ideas, books, movies… everything! I told the library that if I distributed the same material that they’re distributing on their computers, I’d be in prison. But they’re the government, they can apparently do whatever they want. Media has a huge impact on little minds with big imaginations. They can shape a whole worldview, they can haunt with what can’t be unseen, with what can’t be unread.
Sometimes I see myself doing terrible things. But, that’s not that unusual, a lot of people imagine themselves doing terrible things. It’s a mixed emotion, kind of like a disconnect but an immediacy all at once. There is no judgment, just control. Sometimes it bothers me for a while, but I forget about it. It’s just a fleeting thought, nothing to it.
The reason I said I don’t need a therapist is not because I don’t ever experience problems. I experience problems. Everybody experiences problems. But they’re things you just have to get through when you realize that some things will never change. This is really difficult for Maus to accept. My worldview is that I am made up of everything, happiness, sadness, disappointment, hope, excitement, and sometimes pain. To ME, that’s normal. Maus sometimes says the way I feel things is not normal. But to me, that’s normal.
I used to say that “I’d feel this way forever,” but then, something changed. Something wonderful happened and now I’m doing really well. I stopped having a haywire limbic system, and my amygdala stopped flailing around uncontrollably. I experienced making my life what I want, and I’ve been doing that ever since. So I know that things can change! That’s why this blog is titled, My Beautiful Life. I have no doubt that everything about me will change as time goes on, but some things, despite transforming into a different shape, are essentially the same.
I don’t believe I need therapy because of two things: I’m doing so well, and dealing everyday at a very functional level. My life is structured, I’m succeeding at things I want to do. I grow and am happy most of the time and love living in Old Town with Maus. But secondly, I firmly believe there are a few things in the pathos of my intellect that just won’t ever change. Everybody hurts sometimes. And you have to own that.
And that’s okay. That’s your thing. Therapy can’t change some things.
The idea of meds only is that if I do have a problem I can always go back and get help. But forcing me into ‘getting help’, is not helpful. Forcing me to do anything, as Maus himself has found out, is never helpful.
This is a delayed reaction to what the Nurse Practitioner said. I think it’s because I’ve realized that I always have to keep in mind that there’s a chance that she might be right. I also think its because I didn’t really expand on the other side of things, and I felt the need to express it. It’s called a “Daily Log” for a reason, because that’s just how I feel right now.
Anytime I make a post like this, it’s kind of all over the place and confusing, so I apologize. That’s just how I’m feeling right now, and I wonder sometimes, that somebody might read this and recognize a similar situation.