tory talks... kinda wish she'd shut up though.
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| Sunday, January 3rd, 2010 | | 4:53 am |
It's late, and I am aware that the lateness (and thus my tiredness) will render whatever I am about to say slightly ramble-y and nonsensical (nonsensicle? no, that looks too much like popsicle). And I've proven my point. But I think that for the first time in a while, I am at a place where I can process all that's happened to me in the last couple months and express it accurately and succinctly. I started dating a boy. This boy liked me quite a bit more than I liked him from the beginning, and as much as this was off-putting, I didn't break up with him. I liked the attention, I liked being needed. Did I mention he was needy? Very needy. Because this boy, on top of his bipolar disorder (honestly the least of the problems), was incredibly immature and maladjusted. In a healthy, well-adjusted person, bipolar disorder is not something crippling, because those people know how to take care of themselves and prevent manic or depressive episodes. But this boy is not one of those people yet. So I was dating a boy who took a whole lot more than he gave emotionally. At first I went out with him because we clicked, and then because I liked the huge attention he was paying me, then because I was afraid that breaking up with him would send him to the hospital, with all of this shaded by my codependent tendencies, all over the course of three months. Then, at the end of those three months, the shit hit the fan. We started fighting all the time. I was definitely unhappy, but couldn't bring myself to break up with him. He started taking steps to try to give me space, which he could tell I needed, but the combination of several other stressors and the big relationship stressor started getting to him. He worried, so he didn't sleep, so he got slightly more manic and moody, which stressed me, which worried him more, and you see the cycle being created. And it all came to a head three weeks ago today. Exactly. A manic episode. I have never seen anything like this before in my life. Talking a mile a minute, really intense moods with really unpredictable mood swings, and delusions. Crazy shit. Your typical manic episode, although reading about it could never really show how awful it is. Because there's no way a non-professional can handle that shit. Because logic doesn't work. There's no talking this person down, showing them the error of their ways, explaining things sensibly. There is no sense. So this boy shows up at 5 in the morning talking crazy, intense erratic moods. I see I can't handle it, after taking twenty minutes to make a walk that should have been two, because he's got to keep stopping to tell me something RIGHT NOW, no it can't wait he's got to say it NOW, we need to sit on this bench, we walk by this bench all the time, but we've never just sat and had a conversation let's sit and talk, i want to move away i don't need anyone no i can't tell you in the morning i've got to tell you NOW it's important everyone has fucked me over no offense but everyone has fucked me over i don't need anyone when i go to california with you i'm just going to stay when i go to california with you i'm going to fly into boston and stay with my family there when i go to california with you i'm going to fly into boston drive to new hampshire meet with the dean of admissions at dartmouth explain my situation and they'll let me in and then i can get the fuck out of here because everyone's fucked me over you've got to understand i've got nothing here everyone's fucked me over no offense no we can't go upstairs yet just a little bit more just a little bit more right now right NOW RIGHT NOW. And that is who I spent the next 4 hours with. Nonstop. That. I have never felt so responsible for the well being of another person, and I have never been so afraid for my own well being. It was like a bad movie, because you think that things like that only happen in bad movies. The erratic behavior, the delusions. They don't. And even when they do, the movies have it wrong. Because what you see in the movies is just a brief taste of the madness that can really occur. But I suppose it's gotta be that way, because what audience would sit in a theatre for four hours just to see the same thing, the same mad thing, over and over again? That would be absolutely draining. And it was. But I'm not here right now to talk about what occurred. I'm here to talk about me now. I have been through that mess, probably the biggest mess I will ever have to go through, and I am on the other side. Or getting there, anyway. This boy says he loves me, says he wants no one else but me because he's never met anyone else like me blah blah blah. And that could be true, but I don't think it is. And for several brief terrifying seconds over the course of our three month relationship, I thought all I wanted was him. That is definitely not true. I think what I really want is simple, but difficult. Simple and hard, not complex and easy, right folks? I want to remember what it feels like to do things for me. And once I've done that--only once I've done that--I want to meet someone who will appreciate my goofiness, appreciate my body, and will want to and be able to care for me as much as I know I will want to and will care for them. That is exactly what I want. | | Thursday, October 22nd, 2009 | | 2:43 pm |
| | Tuesday, May 12th, 2009 | | 11:35 pm |
I do things for attention. Sometimes it gets out of hand. Sometimes I say things that I've thought but I don't know are true, about myself, because they're... interesting. Because, why not? Or something. But it makes me really uncomfortable. Really really uncomfortable. | | Friday, May 8th, 2009 | | 9:11 am |
I leave New Orleans in a week and a half, and it already hurts. Which is still surprising, even though it's hurt everytime I've left, and even though I complain so much about being here. I think it's just that home is so boring. Everything has character here. Even the weather. I mean, would you want to walk outside in 85 degree weather with 85% humidity? No, not at first, that sounds difficult. But after a while, walking any other place in any other weather just starts to seem boring. Where's the challenge? I will be faced with different challenges at home, I mean, that's just how it works. And hopefully I will enjoy myself. But somehow, leaving New Orleans just always gets me down. | | Wednesday, April 22nd, 2009 | | 10:26 am |
A week ago, my biggest worry was getting my hair cut. Boy, do I feel stupid about that now. | | Tuesday, April 14th, 2009 | | 11:14 pm |
I can't wait to cut my hair tomorrow. I'm afraid it's going to look bad. I'm afraid I will look ugly. I'm excited to see what comes of it, how I deal with the difference. How others deal with the difference. And I like that I can manufacture big change with something as simple as a pair of scissors. Because it will be big change. There's no doubt about that. I have spent months struggling with my hair, fighting with it, accepting it, growing attached to it (no pun intended). It has become a huge part of my identity. I know that's silly, but it is. So I'm interested to see what happens when I cut it all off. I'm also kind of surprised at how scared I am to cut it. I have to keep reminding myself, it's just hair. It'll grow back. But it's such a part of me. I'm so terrified. Crap. | | Friday, March 27th, 2009 | | 12:37 pm |
I had a dream a couple nights ago about an old friend. Someone that I haven't seen for 5 or 6 years, but who still holds a very special place in my heart. I miss what my life used to be. Things were easier. I feel a pressure now, a pressure to know. To have an answer. I'm not sure if that pressure is internal or external or a combination of the two. But in any case, I don't know. I don't know if I'm capable of knowing. Things are supposed to become clearer as time passes, but I feel like my life is becoming this never-ending game of blind man's bluff. Where am I going, where am I coming from? I don't know. My understanding of life is constantly shifting and changing, and I'm finding it impossible to have answers, to anything.
I miss that friend. I felt, and feel, like I could lose myself in him, that we could have each other and nothing else would matter. I've always wanted that. Maybe it's an escape, maybe I'm not supposed to want that, maybe I'm supposed to be self-sufficient and not need other people. But it feels so good to forget about everything but you and someone else and your shared moments and questions and lives. So I keep looking for that, and not finding it, because maybe it doesn't exist, or isn't supposed to exist, or something.
And another thing... this idea that I should be sorry for sharing my thoughts and feelings and stories, like who I am is unimportant and worthless. I was about to apologize for what I've written in this post, like I was so awfully inconveniencing whoever is reading this. But Tory-- people read this of their own volition! No one is forced, and I hope to god no one is bored, although that can't be changed if they are. But if people don't care, they can skip to whatever's next on their friends page, there is no obligation on anyone's part.
Last night a friend asked me how I was doing, and maybe it was because I hadn't seen this friend in a while, but I told him. I told him exactly how I was doing, everything, things I hadn't even realized until the moment I said them. And I realized, I hadn't been this candid with anyone in a while. Either I feel like people don't care, or I feel like I'm not worth caring about, or I feel like sharing everything would be asking unanswerable questions, and unanswerable questions are unacceptable. And I cried, I cried a lot, because I'm scared of what my life might become, I'm scared that I'm not fighting hard enough to be happy, I'm scared that I have to fight for something at all, I'm scared that I feel like no one cares enough for me to truly open up to. I'm scared that I have believed for years and years and years that there is art in me, that I have cried and screamed and fought to convince people that there is art in me, that I have sacrificed a lot for this supposed art, and maybe it's not there. Or worse, maybe it is there, but I'm too scared to find it, to foster it, to create from it. I have always believed that I am great. Even as I am writing this, I feel that I am great. But where is the proof? I want to break out of myself. That's what I want, to break out of myself. But I'm starting to doubt that I can.
And I feel like a douchebag for being so melodramatic when I know that there is nothing to do but live my life and try to make the best decisions that I can. And I feel like a douchebag for feeling the need to express what a douchebag I am, thereby apologizing, because goodness knows I can't express anything without having to apologize for it.
I want to throw caution to the wind and stop being so fucking organized all the time and just go live somewhere and hang out in parks and coffeeshops and write and laugh and enjoy the sunlight and the rain instead of always being inside, afraid, waiting for the next deadline, waiting for the next assessment, the next grade, the next email saying congratulations or we regret to inform you. But I don't see how that can happen. But I really want it to. | | Thursday, March 26th, 2009 | | 10:44 pm |
Something weird has been going on with me. I think I let myself get discouraged about acting. Or at least, about creating. I feel gross and contrived and like an asshole. I feel like a huge asshole. What am I doing? | | Wednesday, March 18th, 2009 | | 8:37 am |
When things go wrong, I blame myself. My sister says it's narcissistic, which makes sense. Everything isn't about me. But the way I see it, I could have done something more, I could have done just a little bit more to make things a little bit more right. Right? But maybe not. Maybe I need to stop blaming myself for everything that bothers me, that gets me down. I can't really be the cause of it ALL, can I? | | Thursday, March 5th, 2009 | | 12:55 am |
Sometimes things are challenging and exciting. That's what I try to shoot for, what I think a lot of people try to shoot for. A task, a job, an endeavor that will be complex enough to engage me fully, as well as interesting enough to make me want to do it. Sometimes things aren't challenging and exciting. Sometimes they're just challenging. Occasionally they're challenging and disinteresting. Sometimes you actively don't want to do them. But you have to do them anyway. In that situation, though, I think I have to try to create excitement for myself, in this way: Can I do it even though I don't want to? Am I big enough, am I mature enough, am I good enough? My answer is yes, I am. I will get the job done, because I cannot let the inferior me win. I will be the better me. | | Wednesday, February 25th, 2009 | | 7:26 pm |
I vied for my sister when I thought no one else would. I thought she was a victim, and that all she needed was somebody (namely my father) to tell her that she had what it takes. But that happened. And she didn't pull through. I feel really silly for being so idealistic and simplistic in my thinking, and I also feel silly for believing in her so much and then having her eff up in spite of changes in her favor. I am very disappointed in her. Any other time, I could (erroneously) point to someone else as the cause of her mistakes. But this time, it was just her. And while we're on the topic of things at home... I spoke to my mom just now. Speaking with her is getting more and more difficult, because she is making less and less sense. It is so sad. It's not that she's losing her mind, just that her body is refusing to communicate her thoughts. But she rambles, she loses her train of thought, she can't find words, she can't always hear correctly. She's not the woman I knew three years ago. She's different. Very different. And I am very angry about it. And angry that I get so frustrated with her. Tory, she's sick! Very sick! Why are you being so short with her? But I can't help it. The worst part is that I can't do anything. About either issue. Not a thing, it's all beyond my control. And I hate that. A lot. | | Saturday, February 7th, 2009 | | 2:27 pm |
A couple things. First, it is a strange feeling to realize you don't like your friends that much anymore. This is less a blanket statement and more a pretty specific statement, so none of y'all need to worry. But yes, I'm finding that I'm not very found of a particular friend anymore. So strange. But what else is strange is how I don't really care that much. Like, it doesn't really hurt like I would have thought it would. It doesn't really hurt at all. Second, I was not happy last night. I let myself get caught up in my impatience to get out of here and get to work on... whatever. And I also felt really overwhelmed with all the work I had to do that I felt I hadn't done. Because I hadn't. But I feel better this morning. I've got a better handle on things this morning. I straightened everything out in my mind, and I feel better. I just needed to think about it a little bit differently. So in all... things are not bad, and that's good. | | Sunday, February 1st, 2009 | | 10:47 am |
I have this strange desire to have sex with Orson Welles circa 1940. I feel like it'd be pretty good. | | Friday, January 23rd, 2009 | | 1:34 am |
I have discovered a newfound love for work. Work used to scare me. A lot. Truth be told, it still scares me. But since I've come to terms with the fact that not doing it doesn't really make it go away, it's all become a whole lot bearable. And a lot of it has become pleasant. There's nothing nicer than starting out the day with a to-do list, and having it be complete when you go to sleep. It makes me feel purposeful. Before, I did nothing. I surfed the web aimlessly. Now I surf the web with purpose! | | Tuesday, January 20th, 2009 | | 8:35 pm |
I'm a little terrified that I'm not actually a very creative person. | | Tuesday, January 13th, 2009 | | 12:31 am |
I'm feeling a lot better about things. I have class at 9:30 tomorrow morning. That sucks a little. | | Monday, January 5th, 2009 | | 2:58 am |
I want to go test-driving cars. As a date. I think that'd be interesting. | | Friday, January 2nd, 2009 | | 4:31 am |
This is how I love you. I love you with stories. I love you by telling you what could be, what has been, what is. I love you by showing you that despite the singularity of given circumstances, we are connected. We are the same but different. We are alone and yet we are a collective. We are a spectrum; we are here and there, everywhere. We are nothing and yet we are everything. And I show you this through stories, and I show you this because I love you, and I love you because of stories. I love you.
| | Wednesday, December 24th, 2008 | | 2:05 am |
I have learned that I can guilt myself into doing things, the way other people typically guilt others into doing things. i.e. right now, I am debating doing the dishes. The inner debate goes like this: -I can just wash them in the morning. They'll still be there, and I can get up early enough so that it's like I did them tonight. -Tory, be serious. You won't do them in the morning. You'll just sleep in, and they won't get done, and people will be angry with you, and you'll just be forcing someone else to do them. Just go do them. What's nice is that usually, if I feel the need to guilt myself about something, it's usually the right thing to do, so between the guilt and the idea that it's the right thing to do, I typically do it. I'm gonna go wash the dishes now. | | Saturday, December 20th, 2008 | | 5:36 pm |
I called two friends today. They both answered, "TORGOR!!!" It made me smile, both times. I can't wait to get out of here. Jesus. |
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