Category: Journal

All I want is someone who can read between the lines.

Dear Jess (Aries),

Nothing may seem as important today as your relationship to your friends. Even if you have crucial business to complete, you may choose instead to spend your time in more social settings. Don’t lose sight of your goals, for you still could meet important people while you are in party mode. If you do, feel free to talk about your professional aspirations.

I found out today that we aren’t going to Christmas, apparently. Apparently my cousin doesn’t even want us there because of the way my other cousin is acting. This just figures. I wish that mom and the rest of our family could put all of our problems aside for a few hours and get their act together enough for me to feel like I had a family. But, lately, I don’t.

Really, this all started when last year my mom swapped my furniture for her furniture one day. Because she wanted to keep the antique furniture nice. But that’s bs cos there are more dogs in her room and because my room is so small that it’s just ridiculous. Anyway. I got pretty pissed off. And I still really hate that room. Mostly, I just felt like I was no longer a part of my family because I didn’t live there. Now, though, I do live there. And so maybe some of that has changed. But I still really hate the furniture because it doesn’t even match and it takes up too much space and it represents this really bad thing. And I don’t have a desk now. I know that I’m being whiny but this is my journal and I need to be able to explain those things which are slightly emotionally traumatic.

So today, I find out that we’re not going to Christmas. Mom knows that I refuse to do Christmas with them if we don’t do Christmas as a family. Because I don’t really get what the point is. So I don’t know what I’m going to do. There’s an open offer to go to Weir with Cara and do Christmas there. I might talk to her about doing that. It also sucks because last year I would’ve jsut gone to Joe’s family. In fact, when mom pulled this bullshit there was talk of me doing that. But, of course, I can’t do that. So I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m just really sad.

Last night I was probably at my worst that I’ve been lately and that’s saying something. I don’t know how to put it into words. I guess I feel like I am unable to be loved. I know this is melodramatic. Believe me, it is. I also know there are people that really genuinely do love me. I know that if I made a list, I’d have a difficult time counting those people on less than two hands. But then, I guess it’s just that the people who I think know me best claim not too. And that I can’t take the point and I don’t really get it.

When he asks me about the meaning of life my only answer is: Maybe you’re right.

The other day Tyler was hanging out at my house with me while I worked on Christmas presents for my friends. I’ve going for a personalized theme and a really sweet gift package that I can’t go into details about because some people read this and will be receiving the presents. (Read: Cara could be snooping.) Anyway. So we were talking while I was designing and he said after I showed him the first completed package that I should start commercially producing crafts. Or something like that. I certainly enjoyed the encouragement in my craftwork, et cetera, and I’m not sure that he was serious at all… but I’ve thought more about it and decided that maybe this is something I could do.

I think I have a pretty clever eye and there are some things that I could make that would be marketable right away:
1) Bottle-cap necklaces (something I’ve already done and enjoy the artistry of)
2) Journals (something I’ve been meaning to try my hand at)
3) Knit cases for electronics (my specialty)
4) Digital art (something I have far too much experience in)
5) Knit hats and scarves (It is the winter… and it is fun.. and theoretically i’ll have my first one done at some point over break but if I was really dedicated AND learned to count i could probably crank out two or three or maybe up to four by the time break is over)
6) Sewn things made from old t-shirts mom is making me get rid of anyway

So I’m really excited about this new prospect. I need to solidify a name for my “product line” which I’ll be designing and slap up some web space. But really… This should be fun, keep me occupied, make me feel worthwhile, and affirm my talent in something I really enjoy doing. How fun. I’ll post pictures of my christmas present packages when I finish giving them out.

Speaking of Cara, she and I had a really nice conversation about where my life, love or otherwise, is going and I think it was productive. It’s nice to be wholly honest with someone and not worry about their feelings on the issue or whatever. Not that I don’t enjoy my general honesty with everyone else. I’m glad I’m not hiding anything anymore. And hopefully I never do that to myself or anyone else again. Cara was right when she said that what I have to get over is the guilt for what I did. I mean, like dead on. Because that’s what I have the hardest time with. Trying to figure out how and why I did this to someone who I still say I care about. I don’t know what’s really happening in that area. I guess break should give us some time to get past it and figure out ourselves and our lives and all of that. Sometimes I wish I had a slightly more open relationship with my mom. Or that she could acknowledge that it doesn’t really matter that I’m young. But then, I think it’s just me that perceives our relationship as not being open that way. I usually feel better after speaking with her.

Now for the much-expected update that i promised, or some version of it. I guess I don’t really know what updating I’m supposed to do. I do know that I finished the bulk of my christmas shopping the other day and I’m now really super excited about being able to give these gifts to people. I’m feeling super crafty which benefits the gift-making process quite a bit and also helps motivate me to finish the whole thing. plus, i really like giving gifts. so i’m happy that i get the opportunity to do that. and gift-giving is an excuse to see people that i really like. whee.

life’s sometimes a little difficult. Joe and I aren’t really speaking. he thinks that i’m destroying myself. I don’t entirely disagree with him. I’m excited for break because it means time to figure myself out, knit, and read about Africa. I’m hoping to be able to accomplish all of this on my trip to LA. Not to mention before that. I’m really excited about the opportunity to explore who I am outside of the context of who other people want me to be. I’m also trying to look for/toward the responsible choices that I’m making and using those to spur me to make more. For one, I’m glad that I semi-randomly cut out the consumption of alcohol in my life until I turn 21. There’ve been a lot of times lately when I really wanna just get all fuckered up and take my mind off of what’s going on, but I feel really good taht I don’t do that. And given how depressed I’ve gotten at different points in the past few week, I think it’s definitely a good thing that I don’t have a crutch like that to get stuck on.

Speaking of really sad times, my dog Diggy passed away yesterday. He was one of our older poodles who we’d rescued from a couple who could no longer take care of him. We’d had him around here for a few years and really loved him a whole lot. It was a really difficult thing for me, in part, because I discovered him. Which I had never done. I took it really well. By sliding into a really cold shock and having an immediate sense of guilt and disbelief. I’m not sure I can explain it.

See, I got home around 3:30 that day and let the dogs outside at around 4 when mom said that she wasn’t going to be home right away. So I let them all out and when I do this I always just open the cages of the ones in the utility room and then let the ones who want to follow me out go out and leave the other ones alone because some of them (like Cassidy Jean) don’t like to go out until mom or dad get home. So I just sort of let them out and then went back to my room to study. At 6:30, I told mom I would let bear out so she could let him back in which she got home. I went to do this and that requires shutting cage doors on the dogs still in cages (they like to sleep there). So I went to shut the doors and realized that Diggy hadn’t moved. That he was just laying there which is really out of character for his typical neuroticism. Usually he’d be spinning circles and barking a lot. So I got closer to the cage and said his name and nothing happened so I watched for him to breathe.

I get to this stage with dogs all the time. Where i think maybe they’re dead cos they sleep so still… but then… when i look close. their chests rise. Yesterday, with Diggy, his chest and body was not rising and falling like a sleeping dogs chest would. He. was. so. still. So I got closer and i tried to call for him and wake him but he wouldn’t… so I opened the cage door and tried to shake him awake and I realized he was already so rigor mortised. It was sad. I didn’t really know what to do. I rolled him over and tried to massage his heart to bring him back but it was so obviously too late. And he looked so peaceful in that sleeping position so I just let him stay that way.

I layed him back in the cage and said, “It’s okay, Diggy. Just sleep.” and put him exactly as I’d found him. Then i realized I should call mom so I did. I said “mommy, you should come home.” and she said she was on her way and asked why and I said “Diggy passed away, mom.” and she got really upset right away. She just kept saying No and Oh No over and over again. I felt so terrible. I still sorta wish that I would’ve just waited for her to come home or called Dad instead. But I figured Mom was the obvious person to call. So she came home and was so upset. I called Dad before Mom got home to let him know and he returned my page right away and I let him know and said that mom was on her way and said that he should come home too. he was about 10 minutes away from heading home anyway so he finished up whatever at work and then came home with us.

I guess they had a vet appointment for him today because he’d been coughing a little bit more. Mom feels really guilty that she didn’t take him in Wednesday night instead of trying to wait till when Peanut’s appointment was. Man. I feel so bad for her. I just kept telling her that it wasn’t her fault and there was no way they could’ve known and that Diggy was just old. and he really did look so peaceful. He looked like he had just gone to sleep and didn’t wake up. He probably just started to have a really good dream is how I described it to Mom. And it’s been three years now (almost to the day, I think) since we lost Lamby which was a different black poodle. I said that Grandma Margie maybe just wanted another birthday present to keep her company. Maybe it’s a sign from Michelle who I had been thinking about lately because the third anniversary of her death came and went. Oh man,

Death, like love, is a dangerous angel.

I guess this entry is what I’ve had to say. Maybe there is more. Probably, the only thing I could add is how fucking glad I am that the semester is over and that I expect my grades to be pretty effin good.

Oh, and I saw Apocalytpo the other night. What a fantastic movie. And an even more fantastic evening. It was seriously great though.

Today, I was listening to Everclear on my way home from class. Songs from an American Movie, Vol. 2: Good Time for a Bad Attitude. It made me realize that most of the music which made me like good music sucks. I mean, it’s an okay album. And I guess that the problem is less that it’s terrible and more that I just don’t really like rock anymore… (though I think my friends who are fans of rock will point out that it sucks)… but seriously. I just wasn’t really feeling it. It all seemed very lame and contrived. Though some of the songs are alright. I still like the title track a whole lot. Both on Vol. 2 and volume 1. I think it’s kind of how I feel lately.

I feel like I’ve just let go of or lost everything and I don’t know where to begin when I pick up the pieces. I’m happy when I’m around those people who are familiar either in their newness or their connection to who I have been, but I really don’t know who I am. I realized last night/this morning that that’s one of the things that bothers me most about my being cancelled from Madeline’s life. One of the things she said… “or how horrible it makes me feel to think of you boxing yourself up. in religion. in politics. in medication and neurosis. the way you fucking define yourself so thoroughly like giving yourself a label will let you know yourself more completely. i couldnt ever do that so thoroughly as you could. to me you are just jess. not a list of words.” I mean, I understand what she’s saying. I guess. And I know that I desperately used to look for words that I could fit into because I wanted to feel similar to my fellow humans. I seem to care about fitting in less and less. Maybe, I still care about it a lot… but I fit in without changing or defining myself anymore. And I think that’s really beautiful.

I mean, sure, I’m Catholic. But my reasons for being Catholic are its fluidity. It’s ability to adapt as a religion to people, circumstances, and eras. I love that to me Mary can be the linchpin of my connection to divinity and despite her not being divine, it’s still okay. That all of these Saints let me flex my religion to create a closer relationship to God. And that my relationship with Catholicism has changed greatly over this past year and a half I’ve spent believing. I was initially drawn to Catholicism because of the marketplace of ideas within its believers and the connection we all feel. Yet, now, I find myself drawn to the theological elements of it. I can defend my faith. To me, there’s nothing more wonderful in my evolution as a person and as a Christian than finding that ability.

And politics is just silly. Who am I politically? My facebook says that I am “Very Liberal.” I recognize that this is a lie. I tend to vote a purple ticket with democratic leanings. The red mostly comes in in offices where the State dems aren’t running real candidates. Or in offices that should mostly be non-partisan anyway. In terms of political theory, maybe I’m a democrat. The argument that I’m libertarian is pretty great too though. I just really fundamentally disagree with the economics side of libertarians. I think that if the government should function at all it is to protect us from business. And I think the job of the electorate is to protect us from the state. I really love anarcho-syndicalism. But I admit, I am in basically no way an anarcho-syndicalist. It makes the most sense to me, sure. But I don’t do it actively. For a while, it really frustrated me that people would criticize my loving anarchy. But I understand that I still shop in a global marketplace. That this laptop I’m blogging on is a mac. That I’m blogging at all. Hypocrisies. But I’m okay with them. I just think society should work together to take care of itself without hierarchy. Or without much heirarchy. Somedays, I think feudalism would be alright. Less the serfs. Just self-sufficient manors. Those days, I try to crawl back into bed and forget about politics.

Let’s talk about my neurosis then. I think that my neurosis is sort of an important definition to understand because it affects my interaction with other people, to an extent. I need to learn to cope with symptoms and the best way to do that is identifying what the symptoms are and then figuring it out from there. Am I still searching for a diagnosis? Fuck no. Maybe I’m Type II Bipolar. But then… my swings aren’t that dramatic. My manic episodes leave me totally unfulfilled. And I have more panic attacks than is natural. Maybe I have some form of an anxiety disorder. But that doesn’t make sense with my depression that certainly manifests itself as depression and not anxiety. I don’t know what I am. I know that sometimes I have panic attacks. I know that this emotion I’ve been living in the past few months or so is depression. And that it is not a feeling that I share with my peers. I know that it doesn’t interfere with my ability to be happy. I know that a manic episode is coming. Everytime I hit the highway I want to miss my exit. I want to put “405” by Death Cab For Cutie on repeat and decide where I’m going based on the direction of Iowa and my general feeling toward that state when I hit that sign.. Maybe I’m just crazy. And I’m not even on any medications. I don’t take them. Perhaps, I cling to this definition of someone who is crazy and does not take her medications. But I think psychiatrists are fucked up. Three cheers for self-medicating.

The other day I was talking to Kyle about how the overwhelming concensus of my friends and the people that I care about, according to one, is that I am crazy. That’s fine. He said: “You are crazy like I’m an asshole. It’s both your best and worst feature.” Well put.

I don’t know who I am right now. I feel distant from God. I feel isolated from my family. I feel like a lot of friendships which have been major defining friendships for the past 4 years of my life are fading away and will maybe not be obtainable anymore. I feel really fucking sick and tired of justifying all of this bullshit as “well, it’s probably best for them.” luckily for me, they’re not in my life anymore so i no longer have to consider their feelings.

In debate, we do this thing where we build arguments in constructives and then kick them in the rebuttals based on what we have time to defend if the argument has gotten messy, what we think we’re actually winning, and/or what arguments have the greatest meaning in the round. I’m just doing that with my personality. This is what I’m going for: Poet. Catholic. Debater. Historian. The most beautiful thing about this new definition is that none of those words actually mean anything outside of the context of me and how I define them.