The Edges of Normal

i walked away. finally. i walked away.
i got to end it with her asking for something and me saying no.
it's petty, but it felt good. and it gave me the ending i needed to move on.
finally. i have moved on.

to then shop okcupid like it was my second job.
i'm embarassed that online dating sites are where i've gone too mostly because i still think of them as pathetic.
but it seemed like the best place for me to meet someone given that i'm interested in people who aren't interested in bars, and then where do you meet these people, you know?

and so we start a new page.
and a new person, found via said online dating site.
and my roommate thanked her for making me "so happy".

high school-style infatuation is fun.
i'm waiting for it to burn off and see what's actually there.
i told my mother i was twitter-patted though and then bounced my head off the dashboard because i had to explain the Bambi reference to her.

and the other i have stated i never want to see again.
never is a strong word and i'm sure it won't last like that, but it's where i am right now.
to the point of telling the one mutual friend we have left that i do not want to be invited to parties that she will be going to.

one mutual friend. because i cut the rest out of my life like loose paper shreddings.
i've spent my life walking away from things i valued and cared about so often that i almost have no actual attachment to the permanency of people now.
i think about the weaver stories. about how our lives are threads through the fabrics of time. and they cross, mingle, part, or never meet according to the weaver's pattern. and i am reminded that a person will stay only so long as our threads are mingled, but we will never truly be part of each other as two threads can never be part of each other in the greater pattern.

maybe i should look for more positive lights in the stories about love. it'd be nice to travel with one other person for a length of time and make a life together. it would be really nice.

another day another pill.
i'm taking st. johns wart more and more regularly it seems.
i don't know if its S.A.D. or just not letting go of the past or both.
i want to walk away. walk away from the sadness. walk away from everything that makes me sad. but i can't. not litteraly, not figuratively, and even if I could quit - up and leave like I say i want to - it wouldn't make things better and might make them worse.

my mind still travels down the road of discontent. still looks at the door that leads to conversations about why i don't have all of someone's love. most of it self-depreciating. most of it self-abusive.
it's almost not worth even looking at anymore except that i keep thinking it'll change if i look every once in a while.
i never said i was bright.

at least with the st. john's wart the thoughts loose some of their force. at least while i still have them, they don't hit as hard or tear as much.
it's an exploration of what i do to myself because of how i think the thoughts will make me feel and what the thoughts actually do to me.
i might be beginning to get a hold on my own inflictions so that i don't compound the thoughts. might be.

at least while i self-medicate i can avoid admitting i might actually have a problem. i can avoid having to become reliant on health insurance or inject my system with synthetics. i hate doctors. i don't want more of them in my life than i have to have right now.

in the end they'll only tell me what i already know. they'll give me a drug that will work as well as the st. john's wort of worse. and it'll have crappy side-effects that will hurt my mood worse.
i realize i'm rationalizing not doing something about a potential problem.

and the closer reality is that my present is pretty ok. things are where i need them to be right now. i may not be happy with all of it, but right now things are what i need.
it's the potential futures that give me grief. the potential dreams i don't actually have right now that i might not ever be able to realize.
it's hopes, or hopes i believe i should have one day, that give me grief because i can't see my future becoming something that fulfills them.

potential hopes and dreams that i might have, and the possibility of my future beyond the development of those hopes and dreams that might not fulfill them. that's what upsets me.
i could use my energy in better places.

and what if i never develop those future hopes? what then? all this wasted energy being upset about the unfulfilled dreams i never had in the first place.
it would be ridiculous.
i plan. but sometimes i plan too much. projections only work so far before they become completely unreliable and the steps beyond the present i have to to take to get to a point of hopelessness is right about where the land of fancy takes off.

it would be better if i could take a pill to stop my mind from searching for all the what-ifs necessary to lead me to a future of hopelessness. can you find me one of those pills?

wow. :)
I finally got a dreamwidth account. After months of stalking the pages and poking into the public sectors and wondering what i might find, I finally get the chance to explore.

This may likely become my new journal. I've just got a ton of things over at LJ that I don't really want to loose. Then again, I could also combine the myspace journal I've got and put it here. we'll see, we'll see...

peace out - i'm just waiting for the girl to get off work so we can go to bed. Friday nights are always good.