Intention

When someone accidentally causes me pain, it seems to leave less of an emotional scar than when one hurts me deliberately.

It’s in the intention to hurt, where the more pain lies, I think. Unintentional pain can still be crippling, of course, but when it’s coupled with the fact that the person wanted you to feel that way?

Intention isn’t everything, but it certainly is a lot.

Wednesday Babble

In some cases, there is a lot of time between the seconds.

Also, FedEx just brought in pizza for our warehouse staff. So good!

So difficult to chew, though. Please let my crown fit when I receive it tomorrow! I want my teeth to stop hurting soon, please.

Mini Updates

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I purchased something online last night, right before I left work for the day. It’s something I’ve been wanting for quite some time now, and for which I had starting searching almost exactly two years ago. It needed to be perfect, and yet would never be enough. It didn’t need to be very large, yet the value of its intended content is measure. It hurt my heart to place the order, yet at the same time, made me feel like I’d accomplished something important. Finally, after everything.

I did something, and yet still feel just as unbearably sad.

Anyway.

At the beginning of the month, I received an email from Canada In A Day – an update on the video footage I’d shot. Given how disappointed I’ve been in myself for pretty much all of it, I skimmed through the usual form letter about how grateful they were for all of the amazing submissions and that there were so many, etc etc etc. I waited to get to the part where they let me down easy as they gently reject my particular submission.

I had to read it twice to understand that “provisionally accepted” meant the opposite – that there’s actually a chance something I shot might make it into the final film! What?! There were a bunch of releases to sign, and get signed by others, which had to be scanned and emailed back to them within ten business days.

I then promptly forgot – and just remembered this morning!

It’s the 8th, and we had a weekend in there, so it’s not completely down to the wire, but much closer than I’d intended. I scrambled around and scanned my heart out and signed everything I needed to (I hope), then emailed it all back to them a mere few hours ago.

So – that’s done. It’d be cool if any of my stuff could make it in. I had a full day planned – not even intentionally – and plus there’s Brody. Who wouldn’t want his cute self in any film ever, really? I don’t think anyone will know whether they made it in until the film airs next summer, so I guess it’s a good thing I was planning on watching it, anyway.

Now I’ll also just be keeping an eye out for myself!

Sulkiness

sulky:

 

I am the sulkiest adult ever. Pretty much, anyway.

Admittedly, when I first heard that, the definition or impression in my mind was a bit different, so it came across as a little more hurtful and insulting. But I guess the above definition is something I can live with more easily, if need be.

That I am delicate and broken is more difficult to accept, but whatever. It is what it is, and fortunately or unfortunately, I am what I am.

Last night I dreamed that I’d convinced three friends to apply to some kind of secret society thing with me. I knew all about it and felt I could help them to settle into the whole thing if and when we were all accepted. I think the friends may have changed throughout, as I’m pretty sure one was a woman, at one point, but for the most part I think it was Ryan, Drew and Lindsay.

Anyway, I located the rather hidden spot where we had to go for the interview part of the application process, and as luck would have it, I even interviewed with someone I already knew. I was feeling pretty confident, because it seemed to go quite well.

Two of the four of us were accepted. I was not one of them. Still a little confused by it all even after I woke up. And guilty, because I was no longer sure how to help the two friends who’d made it in, especially when they’d only applied because I’d pressured them into it.

This morning, the older woman next to me on the subway lost her balance and would have fallen over had I not caught her.

Broken or not, sometimes I am still stronger than those around me, and can carry both of our weights for a while. So there’s that.

Feeling Low

Today isn’t really going very well so far, I gotta say. I’ve barely slept, Brody didn’t poo before I left this morning, I’m supposed to be doing a radio play tonight after work, but at the moment have zero cast confirmed so will likely have to push it to next week.

And I’m upset.

I think maybe hurt and/or angry is what I’m feeling most, but I’ll file it all under the umbrella term of “upset”. That’ll work for now.

I have a friend, who has a friend, and sometimes I look at their connection and think it’s closer to what I’m looking for in a friend. Not all friends; just one good one who I feel like I can trust and count on, and talk to about pretty much anything, if I want to. The connection they share isn’t quite what I’m looking for, either, but it seems closer than anything I’ve got going on myself. From the outside, at least.

Anyway, my friend mentioned her friend’s name during the conversation, and I commented on how her friend was a good friend for her. She responded that I am, too…which is great, but we weren’t talking about me. Then she said that they have being single and straight in common, and to me that felt like a punch in the face. It’s not the first time I’ve been singled out for not being straight, but again – we were not talking about me.

I mentioned that a comment like that would seem to disregard the connection they have, as they have way more in common than that. What I didn’t add is that, to me, those two things are very surface and/or inconsequential factors upon which to base a friendship. I don’t really look for people who are single and not straight to be my friends. I choose people I like – as people. Not relationship status or sexual orientation. I get that it was just an off-handed comment meant in jest, but it bothered me a lot. Still bothers me now, obviously.

Once again, I feel set apart, and for something that has as little to do with my ability to be a friend as I have control over it. Sorry I’m not straight enough to fit in, I guess? Only I’m not really sorry. From what I can tell, in general, men connect with other men on a different level than they do with women, and likewise women connect more deeply with one another on an emotional level than they do with men. When they aren’t trying to compete with one another, of course. But the potential is always there, so that’s what I’m referring to.

So in that sense, I feel kind of sorry for straight people, as they won’t ever know or truly understand that level of intensity and complete intimacy that comes with same sex relationships. Theirs will always be a little off balance. Though on the flip side, they also won’t know how it feels to never really have your relationships be socially acceptable and “normal” (ie not stared at nor commented upon). Nor will they know the shame and humiliation that comes from having a homeless guy yell “shut up dyke” and then spit at you as you walk by with a friend, for example. You know – there’s a trade-off.

What has actually upset me about an innocent little comment? I’m not sure. When I was getting ready for work this morning I texted that being single probably felt much the same no matter what your orientation was. If love is love, then no love probably feels similar regardless of who’s not loving you. She responded that she hadn’t intended to make it sound different.

And that’s the thing. Obviously she didn’t intend to hurt or anger or umbrella upset me with it – and yet it did those things, anyway. I guess one thing, aside from setting me apart as different yet again, is that it seemed to not only diminish their connection, but to also suggest that ours is even less than that, because we don’t even have straightness in common. That sexual orientation came up as a factor even in jest…bothered me. Maybe because I don’t really think about it anymore. It kind of shocked me, I guess, that she apparently does; that she sees it as a difference between us even if I don’t. And worse, that she might even see it as a difference that makes me less-than when compared to her straight friends.

Now, don’t get me wrong – there is a lot of love coming at me from this person, and while I struggle to figure out where I stand and whether or not I’m pulling my weight in this particular friendship, this also isn’t the first time a comment has been made which sets me apart from the others due solely to my perceived sexual orientation. I think this is just the first time it’s really bothered me.

Maybe it’s just because I view their connection as stronger than ours already, or more valuable to her than ours, and that I wish she and I were closer than we are. So when it’s pointed out that they are both single and straight, and that’s two of the things they have in common (and the only two mentioned) – like, I’m single, too. For coming up on 8 years now. But I’m not as straight as they are, so it came across to me as one of the main differences between us – and one of the main reasons why my connection with her isn’t as strong, nor as valuable, and why we are not closer than we are.

And fortunately or unfortunately, it’s not really something I can fix.

So while I understand that the vast majority of the above is all in my head, it doesn’t make much difference in how low I feel today as a result. Reality is subjective, after all, so knowing none of it is intended to make me feel this way…doesn’t mean I don’t still feel it.

Thoughts On A Busy Day

Ugh so busy! No time to think, let alone write!

A few thoughts and things on my mind:

I inadvertently caused a bit of confusion and probably hurt in my already fractured family by neglecting to tell certain people certain things, but I think it all got cleared up last night. Simultaneously broke my heart a bit and made me feel kind of good/comforted, though. Will see how that all pans out.

Reached out to a friend recently, and received a beautiful response. We’re really just peripheral friends, but she still feels safe to me so I added a personal note to the end of a less-personal one, and her response was more than I could have hoped for. I look forward to engaging with her on a different level from what we have thus far. She’s awesome.

Wish I could see my therapist again this week, but wanting to go every week and being able to afford every week are two different things. Hopefully next week, though.

In that vein, I also started doing something new on my own at home, and while I am not sure what my end goal is, or which steps I actually intend to take with it, or even if I’ll keep it up beyond the past few days, I plan to keep it in mind for the next time I do see my therapist. If I stick to my guns, I will mention it, and let her help me move forward with it, if we feel so inclined. It’s a slippery slope, but I feel like it can only benefit me, no matter how far I go with it, or where that particular path takes me on this foggy journey.

Trying to pull together a radio play reading for the podcast for tomorrow evening. It’s always so last minute and stressful, but it keeps working out, so I am trying to have faith in that much, at least! I love all of the stages, from planning to realization. But the rest of life keeps getting in the way of my really being able to focus on it and succeed. It’s frustrating.

So with that, I’ll end this now. More soon.

But first, a comparison shot of Hudson Then and Now that I created from a picture I took on the last day I saw him before he left, and the first day I saw him after his return:

hudson-snuggles

He may be a GIANT now, but he’s still the same handsome silly bear I love!

 

 

Distractions

No idea what I thought I was going to write about today. I was distracted by a pizza party for a coworker’s last day, and now I am painfully full and not really inclined to think about writing.

Plus, I have work to do.

So here’s another quote from a book that I enjoyed, instead.

Rima had tried jogging after Oliver died. She thought it would be smart to get physically exhausted. She thought if she were body-tired instead of, or along with, feeling the heavy exhaustion of grief, she might think less. But the effort involved in lifting her feet over and over was too much for her. Later she tried again, but found she’d been mistaken in her primary assumption. All you did when you ran was think. She hated it.”

Now, I definitely have not tried running as a way of dealing with the exhaustion of grief. I can barely walk some days, I feel like, so while I was once a distance runner as a kid, I don’t think now would be a very good time to pick it up again. I’m more likely to wreck myself before I can tire myself out, really.

I have found that physical pain often helps detract from emotional pain, but it’s insanely temporary. Like, getting my first tattoo hurt far less than losing Alysia. Most of it even hurt less than saying goodbye to Hudson. But the physical pain subsided, whereas the emotional pain still remains.

I have been known to attempt to tire myself out in order to not think and feel so much, though. It doesn’t really work for me, even when I push my body further than it wants to go. It’s a distraction, for sure. But the effects don’t last.

I like that this book recognized the different kinds of tired a person can be. I haven’t often seen that distinction, in books, film, television or everyday conversation. I like how true it rang for me.