Thinking Too Much

I have these friends. Wait a minute, let me start again. I am a female with these 2 male friends. I kind of had to set this one up so you'd understand where I'm coming from. One is a tall only child who takes the meaning of freedom to a point where one would start to understand the Marxist viewpoint (not really...but he is crazy about doing and say whatever he wants regardless of the consequences). The other is a self-absorbed not only child who states exactly what he is thinking but always says he's joking when you really know he thinks he's the cat's pajamas. Both are ridiculously comic if you just step back, say nothing, and observe. They're not idiots per se in the sense of the word idiot meaning that their intelligence level is ridiculously low or that they have no common sense. Hold on, that latter part is for the most part true. I can imagine that you are thinking to yourself "Jesus Christ why are you friends then?". You'll understand later. Trust me.

So what is a girl to do when she's stuck with two self-absorbed self-centered testosterone filled bodies? Well here's my former answer. Get mad, take it personally, and cry. I know, I know believe me that is typically female. I'm not oversensitive. They're really just pricks sometimes. But if you could imagine that I was Jane Goodall and those two were the gorillas then basically they think of me as one of the guys. Plus, it helps that I offered them food once or twice in the beginning of our relationships. It is fun for the most part, until my estrogen clashes with their testosterone missiles of doom. Then it becomes emotional world war eighteen and then we have to go with the whole prisoners of war thing, signing the treaty and setting the boundaries. It's usually good, until one of their little fuckers passes through my lines of defense.

This is my new tactic...or experiment. It's more like an experiment because these two are so into humping their egos that they are not going to notice what's going on. Are you ready? Nothing. I'm doing nothing. I call it minimalist interaction. Actually I am like Jane Goodall because all I'm really doing is observing these two primates interacting with each other. And boy is it funny. 

These two are so alike it is easy for them to love each other because it is exactly like loving themselves. It's like they replicated genetic code for personality and somehow these two characters got it. By all means they have their differences but really it's like looking at Diet Coke and Diet Coke with lime. Essentially both the same thing, Diet Coke with it's awesome aspertame after taste just chilling being Diet-y and all; then take a look at Diet Coke with Lime at first glance it's about the same...but WHOA no way! What's this?! A splash of lime that kind of makes it taste a little more like toilet water then the former. Anyhow, this is how these guys roll. DC and DCL. Good. 

DC (the first one of the two) is sufferer of what I would like to call only child syndrome (bachelor syndrome if the little tyke is in need of some ego stroking). DC is a handsome guy and one of the most charming people I have ever known. Every female that has ever had more then an hour long conversation with him completely and totally falls for him. Ah but there's the rub. He has some fantastically spaced out idea of what the perfect woman is and if he ever finds her we need to clone for future scientific research. He has totally and completely embraced the concept of Fuck Everyone's Opinion. Which is fine unless your a female and it's your opinion (I'm talking about me). Then former me would get pissed and blah blah blah. What is even better about this guy is that he treats strangers (I'm talking about strangers from all walks of life) better then his friends. Trust me. He's a nice guy. But apparently he has this preconceived notion that strangers are the most interesting people. He gets all googley eyed and pretty much is entranced by their strangerness. Then they become friends. Then DC moves on to the next stranger. (I'd like to interject that strangers are indeed the most interesting people....because you don't know a damn thing about them. )

DCL on the other hand is pretty fantastically screwed up as well.  This one has an ego that would totally eclipse the sun if given the chance. The most amazing part is when in any type of conversation with DC, the conversation inevitably leads to how the world should be thankful of how incredibly awesome he is. Seriously, if Mahatma Ghandi had an ego like Donald Trump mixed in with the egos of pretty much every shitty actor in America it wouldn't even come close. The best thing about DCL is that he is totally afraid of everything. Not lying. Afraid of death, porn, and ugly people. Somehow this cumulates in him expressing his distaste for pretty much everything. DCL is handsome as well, but of course being the center of the know and unknown universe, he knows it and lets everyone else around him know it too. 

 Oh they care about people. Just not as much as they care for themselves. They're are cocooned in their egos and it blinds and protects them from truly having to deal with other people. Their conversations generally are centered about their own likes and dislikes, themselves and what they want, and pretty much which women they're in love with. (Although both of them would probably never have enough emotional stamia to sustain a relationship with any of their ideal women.) They truly don't care about anyone other then themselves. 

 This is where I come in. I used to try to get involved you know...be a team player. But it can be quite frustrating when the team is only two people. And you know how that goes....drama, drama, drama. I've just decided to let these two go at it and just sit back and watch. Then laugh....hard. What is sad is that the only time they really care for another person is if that person is in immediate threat of death. Believe me I know. What is even worse is that you really don't believe them when they tell you they were scared for you. It's true, maybe I'm jaded and maybe I need to just stay the hell away. But I'm a scientist and like a scientist watching social interaction like this is like watching someone get arrested the hard way. You just can't turn and walk away. But I swear to God if I did die in front of their eyes they'd probably be more concerned with themselves then with getting the pieces of my body home. (Sad but true) The conversation would probably go like this....

 DC: "Remember when (blank) died?"

DCL: "Totally, that was so crazy I can't believe she did that."

DC: "I know man that was crazy it's so sad. I don't know I feel so messed up right now."

DCL: "I can't believe she did that. Didn't she realize what kind of effect it would have on us?"

DC: "I know she was always thinking about herself."

DCL: "I know, doesn't she realize that I should be reason enough for life itself?"

DC: "I know DCL that is why I'm living."

 Okay, okay...maybe they would truly be remorseful, but I would have to die to see that...and that isn't really worth to me. But pretty much every conversation ends up veering toward the sublime subject of DCL, and frankly I would rather say nothing (which I think is more of a blow to DCL's ego) then say anything that validates in his vapid little mind that he is indeed the force that keeps the world turning. 

So what has this brought me to? I have realized that no matter how hard I try to be a female in this male sect, they'll always see me like one of the guys. And certainly if I keep acting like one of the guys they'll always be under the understanding that I have a penis like them. They are idiots...in the sense that they ignore everything around them but themselves and live only to serve their basic and higher needs. That their conversations inevitably end up being the most vapid and shallow interactions that, if you dig deep down inside show insight to two poor boys who have egos as fragile as a ming vase. Mix that in with a girl whose ego suffers just as much and it can turn into a ridiculous drama filled episode of "As The World Turns". But as a girl who had the epiphany that it is better to watch this episode then actually be in it......

I think I'll sit this one out.  

It's time again, for me to try not to keep loving or more like crushing. It is a battle, between my heart and my mind. If I let my heart go completely, I fear, I will spiral out of control into infatuation. Pedestalling someone, then ultimately hurting myself in the end. I like him, at least I stand on the edge thinking to myself, should I jump? My heart wants to, but my mind whispers in my ear, no. Why? I ask myself? I've done it before, diving into it letting it consume me. But think I pause and think, how has it usually ended. Not well I fear.

I fear.

That is exactly why I still stand on the edge peering into the void. Still weighing my options. He is a soul mate, I have no doubt about it. We are exactly alike and totally different. I can see myself happy. Yet.

He still loves another.

Why is it that someone so unattainable can cause so much damage to another's heart? How is it that when you know that it is not a good idea, your heart says to try it anyway? He still loves another. He still wants another. Not me, but someone entirely different. Not me.

So I sit here, knowing that even thinking about him is a bad idea. I keep repeating to myself he doesn't want me. He wants someone else. My heart is still clinging to the blind hope that he does, but my head keeps saying stop while your still whole.

So I just stand here, at the edge.

So, have you ever been on a team or played a sport? Something your good at or you enjoy? Then somehow through some wicked twist of fate something happens to you to take you out of the game for...ah I guess I would say 3 years? Yeah, it is me and the game we speak of?

Flirting...

I haven't been flirted with in a long long time. Especially from a strange kinda cute guy.

It is funny how, when you start back into it, the signs and signals are a little hazy. At least to me they are. It is nice to have a friend that is secure enough to tell you "Man, he was so hitting on you!" My first reaction to that comment was "Oh no, he couldn't be. He was just being friendly." Typical response from me, a fat girl who didn't think anyone could think I was attractive. My natural buffer against heartache: skepticism. But lately I have been losing weight. I have found something that has worked for me and I enjoy it. Unfortunately, even though I am a smaller size and I keep losing weight somehow my brain hasn't caught up to processing what I see in the mirror as smaller then I really am. I don't understand it, but it is just a little humorous. What is funny is that I was totally oblivious to it. Completely. No inkling at all. Then I ask and re-ask "Was he really?" "Nah.....maybe?". I run the situation through my head, yet it is still difficult to pick up on the flirt-speak. I guess I need to take a re-introduction class to flirting, dating and human mating calls.

So, all this being said, it was quite shocking to realize that yeah he was flirting with me and yeah I am pretty attractive. It made me happy and it was quite nice. Yes, it gave me a boost. However, there is this little evil voice in my head telling me "Ah, he is just pitying you, you're really not that cute and you look like shit." I fucking hate that voice and its secret evil plans to piss me off (or make me cry). What the fuck?! Can I just have a good day where I can be confident in the fact that I am pretty or attractive? Others tell me "You look great!". Why in God's great Earth can't I say that and believe it?

I fooled myself into thinking that I was worth nothing to someone because of what I looked like. I'd shy away in situations involving public contact and mainly connecting with the opposite sex. I see myself (appearance) in measures of flab, rolls, and diameter. I don't think just because I'm fat that I'm not intelligent, or unsuccessful. I am both and I do know it. I just can come to grips with my appearance. I had made peace with the fact that I was always going to be fat and over a size 22 and possibly sizes larger. I though I would just balloon, and maybe never meet someone. I can come to grips with the fact that I could possibly be the single fat lady on the corner with 19 dogs. (not really....irrationally thinking) But now, I do have something that I'm doing and I am losing weight and well, frankly, I still see the girl that weighed over 250 lbs. I am no where near the place or weight I want to be, but, I am getting there slowly.

I'm not being hard on myself...I am fat and I understand that. It took me 20 some odd years of my life to realize that I am overweight, chubby, fat, obese etc... I am okay with that, maybe not and that is why I am doing something about it but I still need to drop a lot to be healthy. The more I lose the better I feel about myself, and the better I feel physically. I am able to run and jump and do things that I haven't been able to do in over 3 years. I am able to wear things that I could only dream of wearing in the past. I am happy with what I am doing, I'm just in a thoughtful mood, started by this strange guy who hit on me.

I give up.

 I give up on trying to be his friend, being there for him, and trying to meet him half way. It is useless because when I get to that half way marker, there is no one there and I'm left alone and a fool for thinking that there would be some iota of effort from him into sustaining this friendship.

It is like I'm Sisyphus.

 I'm constantly pushing the boulder up hill, but then when I am about to get it over it tumbles back down to the bottom crushing me in the process. Fortunately for me I'm not condemned to an eternity in Hades and I can say I give up and walk away. Yet, it is equally as hard to walk away as it is to endure the pain of being crushed over and over again (although I think walking away is going to be a bit more painless). I have tried talking to him, telling him how I feel and asking him and myself, "Is it too much to ask?". I feel it isn't. All I want is for him to give a damn about meeting me half way, no chocolates, no presents, no undying admiration, no pedestal, just a slight jaunt to the half way mark. I do all the calling, I'm the one who wants to spend time with him, but I guess what is important to me isn't to him. He pretends to know me, but doesn't at all.  I've been fooled by his words of reassurance.

"I do care about you."

"You are my friend."

Fooled by these words. Words that I wanted to believe in so much I invested my heart and blinded myself into believing that maybe someday he'd show me that he cares. Investing my time, my happiness, my hope, my caring....

He's invested nothing, an I everything.

I would talk to him about his hopes and dreams, possible relationships, and his past. I would confront him when he hurt me, letting him know that I cared enough to communicate instead of letting him figure out why I was upset with him, or what he did. He would tell me, "This is the way I treat people I care for, it's the way I treat my parents..." and I believed him. I thought, 'Well, I guess he cares, he listened to me and reassured me that he still wants to be my friend.' Then I stood at that half way mark, waiting alone fooling my self into thinking 'Ah, if I just wait here a little while longer, he'll be here.' 

And I waited for a sign. Something. Anything.

 But he never came.

So here I am, slowly shuffling back to the starting point. But this time is different, I am not going to fool myself again. I know he doesn't care and that he doesn't treat his friends and family the same way he does me. Anger has subsided into sadness and resignation. I've tried and struggled. He will never be there for me, he will never be close. I know now that he doesn't really care about anyone else but himself.

The half way mark is further away now, to much for me to even attempt.

The boulder is bigger and heavier, so much so, that I cannot move it any more.

 

Sometimes I feel so lost. Like I am drifting in a void with nothing to hold on to or guide me through. I question what my future holds, and if I would even want to do what I am currently doing for the rest of my life. Will I be truly happy? I have a hobby that I love and I continually want to do more and more with, and at some point I asked myself, "Should I be doing this instead?' I don't know what I want. I took some tests for a class and they all point to this particular hobby and technical writing. As you can see, I am not much for the technicalities of the written english language. In fact, I rarely remember the i before e rule.

So I plug along, thinking maybe something will jolt me....and somehow nothing does.

Is it arrogant that I see great things for myself? Although, I have come to the realization that, at this current moment, I am too fucking lazy. I wish there was some magic pill that could help me have the energy and organization to move on with my life. Yet I putter and sputter along, dreaming about a future that I could have, but doing nothing to acheive it.

I'm not depressed. I just am in a kind of purgatory with my life. Neither ecstatic or sullen about the situation I am in. I just don't know. It doesn't wear on me, I do like what I am doing currently...I just feel no drive. Like a car on its last legs, ready to give up on running any minute from now. I see others, acheiving and pursuing what they want to be, but you see for me it's the same old routine of laziness and sloth. Maybe I will go to hell when I die, sloth is one of the seven deadly sins right?

It is no use getting upset with myself or others. It is just up to me to decide how I live my life.

On another note....

I hate being single around Valentine's Day. Not because I want presents or heart shaped singing pieces of crap, but because it is just made extra evident that I am a single person. If I could describe this holiday in on word it would be ALONE., because that is what I am. It is like when you're single and go to a wedding. What the Fuck? They should call weddings "I'm getting married but you are single and probably are going to grow into an old spinster with 110 cats....enjoy your pathetic life" Don't get me wrong here. I like being single, most of the time. And this is definitely not pity cafe, party of one. I just don't like the holiday, and felt that there needs to be some active complaining going on, on my part.

Something interesting happened. I confronted a friend of mine who hurt my feelings about it. I was really hurt, and I wanted to let him know how I felt about the situation. In turn he tells me that he doesn't really understand any of his emotions. We talked for a while. Later, I started googling emotions and such on the net and found Alexithymia.

It can be considered a trait, or can be induced by physical trauma to the head. Here is a definition I found on www.alexithymia.info

Alexithymia is a manifestation of a deficit in emotional cognition. People with this problem are mostly unaware of their feelings, or don't know what they signify, and hence they rarely talk about their emotions or their emotional preferences; they operate in a very functional manner and rarely use imagination to focus their drives and motivations. Alexithymia refers to this distinctive cluster of characteristics.

As was reading this I realized that this maybe something that is going on with my friend. You see I really care for him, but there are many times that I get very upset or frustrated because it seems like he doesn't care. But as we talked he reassured me that he did, and I do believe that he was sincere about it. Anyways, I am just researching this and thinking to myself....ah ha! A lot of the characteristics of this alexithymia corresponds to a lot of the things he does.

With him, it isn't the normal guy thing where a guy just kind of represses emotion, I really truly believe that he doesn't understand his own emotions. We get along, and I know that I am his friend. There are just times where I don't understand his responses and generally, get my feelings hurt...non-intentionally of course. I just never realized it. I really care for him and love him as a friend, but I can help but feel like he is holding me at arms length. I just wish I could understand what he is going through you know? There really isn't any possibility of this happening, I just want to be there for him. I am glad I confronted him about that issue, I feel like he is taking steps to try and understand why I was so hurt by him. I now know where he is coming from. And now I kinda of maybe see what is really going on, please don't think that I am just trying to pawn it of on some psychoanalytical mumbo jumbo. I really feel like this defines his emotional state.

I have so many questions now. I just really want to support him, not "fix" the problem. I want to understand how to communicate effectively with him, and understand that even though he may not express it, that he does care about me. I know that he does, I think that maybe sometimes I over look what he does and think to much about the motivation and feelings behind it.

I don't know, maybe I am just searching for an answer to something that I don't quite understand. Maybe placing a definition with the actions helps me to understand them better. But somehow I feel, deep in my heart, this isn't true. I really love this guy.

I am alone, and I have been for about 3 years now. Don't get me wrong, I actually have enjoyed being on my own for quite sometime now. I appreciate a lot of things about it, although sometimes I have to sit back and think "Am I trying to convince myself, that I am better off alone?" It is a hell of a lot better then thinking that nobody will ever love me. I'm not into that kind of crap.

Don't get me wrong, I do feel lonely, and sometimes wish that I had a significant other, but I don't think that I need someone to verfiy my existance. I really hate it when people think that they only possible way that they are ever going to be happy is if they are dating someone. It is pathetic. Boys and girls out there, please note that: if you aren't happy with yourself, then there is no one under God's green earth that will be able to make you happy. Now I am not preaching perfectness, I am just saying that there needs to be some level of comfort with oneself.

I personally, am not very comfortable with me and I know for a fact that it has been a down fall of many of my relationships. There is a part of me that doesn't completely let go. Call me neurotic, because frankly, maybe I am but I don't think that I have been in a relationship where I am not afraid. Afraid of what they'll say or think, afraid of being naked in front of them, and most of all afraid of giving my heart so wholly and completely that when it's over I will have to start from scratch and pick the pieces up. Yes, I have been hurt before, there's nothing like being overweight for most of you life to temper you to how it feels to be crushed. You get over it, you know? But you still hold that feeling, filing it away for future reference.

This is not a pity party. I don't sit around all day in a dank dark corner loathing myself for a few misfortunes in my life. I just have recently been feeling the couple's bug and was thinking about where I stand. You know, sometimes it just feels like I am standing waist deep in people who are in love, and then it smacks me in the face. That feeling of lonliness. Usually for several days, then I get over it. I try not to wallow in it because where will that get me? A few pounds heavier, and even more lonelier then I was to start with.

So here I sit sipping tea, in that mood again. A little brooding, but mostly lonely.

I am excited to gear up for the new year. I love the people I work with, they are wonderful. Sense getting this job, I have felt a shift deep inside me. Priorities have changed, and I think more about things that I have never really assigned any thought to in the past. It has been hard, to change and realize things about yourself that affect others. Being aware of how your actions, words, and thoughts affect not only you and your immediate bubble, but how it grows like waves to others.

I have realized much this past year. I tend to become really defensive to criticism and I know this and have accepted it. I don't fight myself as much as I used to. It has become easier to admit fault then to place the blame on others. I have accepted the fact that I am quite messy, and I am working day by day to clean a little at a time. I can see myself growing and developing as an adult.

I remember clearly the day that I knew that priorities in my life were changing. It was nearing Christmas and my mother had asked me about what I wanted. And instead of indulging in my wildest whims and asking for crap that I probably wouldn't use and didn't need, I asked for a vacuum and a toaster. What in the world prompts a young person to ask for a vacuum? Wow, but you know what? I love it and actually use it. Don't get me wrong, I am not some dull drum person who only thinks of realistic wants. There are things I do want that one can classify as frivilous, but now I would rather work for it and buy it myself. Somehow there is infinitely more satisfaction in working toward a goal and achieving it. Plus, my parents are retired now and I feel like they don't need to spend any money on extra things that I really don't need.

When does this shift happen? Is there a specified date? Time? Does a certain event have to happen to being the switch? I think it is funny that most of us don't know it is coming until it hits us smack in the middle of the face.

There are so many things I want to do this year.

I see this and I have yet to create any sense of determination to achieve what I want to do. Being an optimist is hard especially when you have a pessimistic character. Seeing the bright side of things is just so damn hard.

I like to think of myself as a skinny girl in a fat girl's body.

I yearn to wear clothes I see in magazines and on the tv, but I am stuck with pretty much one option. Lane Bryant. I mean there are other plus sized women's clothing out there, if I want to look like a sausage or maybe a bag of potatoes. Do designers not realize the goldmine they are sitting on? Oh and p.s. all us plus sizers don't have huge breast, and bulging waists. We differ, just like any other person. And why, oh God why, do people think elastic waist bands are stylish? They should be burned and buried in the same hole as stirrup pants, fanny packs, and tapered leg jeans.

I want to lose weight.

This has been my mantra for the last 20 years of my life. Why is it so hard to lose weight? I mean, come on, I know the answer...but yet, I still wonder. Maybe it is because I don't try hard enough (see article one at top of entry), or maybe it is because I am damn lazy. Yeah, it is probably both. I will try this year, like I do every year. Maybe I should change my name to Sisyphus. But this is the typical me, hiding behind humor. Using that as a shield for my body and my heart.

It is easy to laugh at yourself...

when it is hard to accept yourself for who you are.