9.24.2012

The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers


More and more as I go through life, I find the fellow members of my species alienating. Rather, I feel more like an alien than one of them. The list of things they do that I don’t understand grows exponentially nearly every day, and I’m not sure if it’s because I forgot the reason, or forgot how to pretend I know the reason, or if it’s a case of the pretending getting harder and harder the longer I do it.

I don’t understand the things they value and seek out, or the vast array of little rituals they have for themselves and each other for every situation. I don’t understand their morality, their ability to bend that morality to always be in their favour, or their ability to do that same thing with honesty, integrity and loyalty.

I feel ridiculous for casting those things – morality, honesty, integrity, loyalty – as my principle deities most of the time, but only when I’m with other people. In Sashiland, those four things are unbreakable. Yet I find myself constantly compromising every part of myself – even the most essential and sacred parts of myself – for the sake of interacting with these creatures who are supposed to, somehow, be the same as me.

The loneliness is difficult to carry. I don’t even mean loneliness the way most people do. You tell people you’re lonely and they automatically presume you’re looking for someone to fuck, short term or long term. Someone to settle down with, etc. No, it’s not that. I don’t think that’s really very important, but there isn’t a word for the thing I’m looking for and people give you judging looks when you say a romantic relationship isn’t on your list of priorities. <i>(And why should it be when the furthest ahead you can plan your life – at best – is 7 months?)</i>

‘Loneliness’ to me is the loneliness of Tigger. The unicorn. Whatever other Only Ones there are out there. I’ve never liked unicorns, though, and Tigger is bouncy, flouncy, trouncy, pouncy fun.

Because that’s the thing – those creatures who are supposed to be the same as me, they live in either/or. They have packs and groups, identifiers that mark them as part of a collective. Things they can hold up and say: Yes, I fit here. And I live in the shades of grey. I don’t fit into any single religion, sexuality, gender, nationality, culture, subculture or even interest group. There isn’t any part of me that isn’t at least a duality, if not multiplicity. The only thing that can be pinned down as set and immovable (aside from having to check the door at least three times to make sure it’s locked and the certainty that <i>everything</i> in my apartment will be arranged by size and parallel alignment) is the Holy Quartet.

I do come across the occasional soul who comes… close. They say all the right things, and probably even manage to keep it up for awhile, but ultimately, something always slips. There’s always that disappointment over one of them.

Honesty. Loyalty. Morality. Integrity.

I don’t know a single person who hasn’t let me down on at least one of those principles,  and it’s very, very hard to slip on just one once you’ve gotten started. The ones that take the longest to disappoint me hurt the most. I expect the disappointment. I can deal with that. Losing the brief illusion that I do indeed have a tribe – even a tribe of two – gets harder every time. Harder to get up and keep going. Harder to hold onto myself. Harder to keep what’s sacred sacred. After all, if there are no believers left, how long do you hold the temple doors?

No, that’s not a metaphor. ;)

There isn’t a word for what I’m looking for, but I would like to find someone who says what they believe, and means what they say. Who has the self-awareness to acknowledge the lies they tell themselves, the lies they tell others, and the courage to admit to both. Who knows that without the Holy Quartet, everything is nothing.

Just one person, so I don’t have to be the only one. 

9.18.2012

Bending Spoons

I had a mini breakdown this morning on the phone with Jinks. I don't remember what he was saying, but it was something that required Cheerleader Sashi and I remember thinking I am too fucking tired for this, which I felt guilty about, but then it all came out in a pretty rambly, disjointed manner. Jinks, though, is a star, and probably the one person who seeks out Cheerleader Sashi who's equally willing to do the same.

It's something I've been realising more and more lately. The lesson of the year, I guess. I put a lot of myself out there for other people. There are a number of people (I'm hesitant to actually call them friends because the situation resembles unpaid therapy more than friendship) who seek me out every time the shit hits the fan, or they're having a bad day, or something's wonky in their relationship with whomever. For the most part, I don't mind. Everyone needs someone to listen to them, and, generally speaking, I'm pretty good at disregarding the emotional parts of a situation and breaking it down so it doesn't seem like an impossible feat. I like helping people. I don't, however, like feeling like the sole food supply for a pack of ravenous vampires, which is how it's been the past few months.

Someone I considered one of my best friends just sort of dropped out of contact at the beginning of the year. I'd get the occasional message here and there, or a like on a status update, but no real attempt to interact with me. Every so often I'd make an overture, and might be rewarded with a few minutes of IMing, but more and more it seemed like if we were going to talk, I had to make the effort. Every time. I know life gets in the way a lot, especially when you're dealing with time differences and different schedules and things like that, but after awhile I just thought why bother?

Why should I be the one always seeking all these people out?

I'm there when they're sobbing at 3 AM. I stay up all night listening to whatever problem they're having and regularly screw up my own sleep schedule (or just go without) for the sake of being a good, supportive friend. Pretty often I'll drop whatever I'm doing (within reason) to make time for them if they need me to. I come up with random and thoughtful gestures when I think they might need cheering up. How many of them do the same thing for me? How many of them call me up just to see how I'm doing, or because we haven't talked in awhile? How many even ask how I'm doing, or what I'm doing?

None. I am the person who pastes on Band-Aids, wipes away tears and then sends them on their way again. I'm their free therapy session.

I think this all really hit home on my birthday a few weeks ago. Now, I'm not one of those people who expects some big thing made out of his birthday. In fact, most years, I'd be happy if the entire day could pass by completely without notice. My birthday, traditionally, attracts disaster. Literally. A few years ago, Hurricane Hanna hit land where I was living at the time on my birthday. So I like to ignore it. A few very persistent people never let me do that, so I suffer through it. Anyway. This year, every single one of my (local) friends - at least one of whom I have definitely gone above and beyond in terms of friend duty - totally ignored it. Not a text. Not an email. Not a single acknowledgement.

I guess the real question is: what is it that compels me to over-extend myself for people who, pretty much, are content to take and not give back a single bit? I honestly don't have an answer to that, because the fact is, I don't have unlimited resources. Spoon Theory sums it up pretty well, except I very rarely take the time to budget my spoons, or even count to see how many I have. I give them out to anyone who asks for one. Additionally, I take a lot on, and I'm pretty much always under some sort of pressure - whether it's related to school, family, work, etc. Well-meaning people keep trying to add more on - I know they're just trying to be helpful but it really is the exact opposite - with mentioning workshops, seminars, classes, competitions and various other things I could add to the pile and I really get tired of saying I can't. I can't. I can't.

Neko said he deals with that by ignoring his obligations and doing something he enjoys just to stay sane. Which is a good solution, except I'm at the point where even the things I enjoy feel like obligations, so I ignore everything and disappear from view for a week or so until the build up of all my neglected responsibilities forces me out in the world to scramble to put it back together again.

Or someone calls and really needs a friend to pump up their ego.

I know a few people have commented on my perseverance and tenacity, admired how I just keep going no matter what. I think a few others interpret that trait as a form of indestructibility - because you don't see what a mess I am that must mean I have everything under control. I would like to pass it off by saying I'm just a very private person, but I think the truth is a little more pathological. I genuinely believe that someone else's - anyone else's - problems, wants and needs have more weight and importance than my own. I don't want to bother them with my issues. Whether it's something trivial like being nervous about yet another doctor's appointment (why I still get nervous about them, who knows) or something bigger like when my father died or my cat was almost killed by a dog (yes, I did just put those two things on the same level), I feel like mentioning it to anyone is tantamount to attention-seeking. But there shouldn't be anything wrong with that. If something goes wrong in your life, you should be able to tell your friends about it and have someone at least try to make you feel better. Or at least make you feel not alone. It's similar to how I feel about letting anyone know about the panic attacks or OCD. I don't view those as valid reasons for the behaviours they cause - no, I know they're valid reasons; I don't think other people do. I worry that people will think I'm using them as an excuse to do A, B or C.

I wouldn't mind actually being as indestructible as everyone thinks I am, though. Most of that resiliency is just because I don't know what to do besides keep going. My attention span is too short to curl up in a ball and give up.

Maybe that's where it all comes from in the end. I don't feel like I can talk about the issues I'm having because very frequently they're caused by one of a set of mood disorders and the general response to that is "get over it". The reaction isn't much more sympathetic from the medical community, either. They either don't listen to a word I say, or, unable to find some dark traumatic cause to this things, throw their hands up and proclaim me cured. And maybe that's why I drop spoons until I've run out and then start writing IOUs for them. Sometimes the hardest thing to find is someone who will hear what you have to say, even if you aren't sure how to say it.