11.26.20

        So Beyonce's song Partition was really disappointing... I get I'm a long time late actually listening to it, but I don't know why I thought it would be a female anthem or something, I guess I just thought that was Beyonce's thing... but who's to say she's gotta stay in a box with the music she makes? still, not what I thought it would be. If I were in the backseat of a limo (or whatever vehicle has a partition the driver can put up- it's Beyonce, I'm assuming it's a limo) with a guy who was so crazy about how I looked that we did damage to clothing and were sure we weren't gonna actually make it to the club, I would want to be more than just the girl he liked. Call me sappy or anti-feminist or conservative or whatever, but I would rather have the man locked down if we're gonna get that wild in the back of a car. My head's here: say we did right? say we went off and did whatever behind the partition, but then we don't stay together- what am I supposed to do with the memories? cuz I'd bet money in that moment he seemed like the model of dedication and loyalty, he probably even thought he loved me or would at least be willing to say so and I'd be willing to believe him, but then what about after? when it's very clear there wasn't any long-lived loyalty, no real love? am I just supposed to brush that off? We have sex in the back of a car- quite vulnerable if you ask me, kind of a joint risk that would be more embarrassing for me than him if we were caught, a situation where he leaves with something of mine, some central piece of dignity- then I'm just supposed to walk away, content to never see or speak to you again? It's a no for me, dawg. 

       But that's a rabbit hole... I've had a lot of thoughts about a lot of things today... I think about dating a lot- should I try harder? what does that even mean? Do I join a dating site? That feels kind of desperate... do I just be more direct? make more eye contact with people? That feels aggressive, which it definitely isn't and seems to work pretty well for people... I just flinch away from eye contact- it scares me. I wonder why? Fear of being seen maybe? fear of watching someone see me? all boiling down to a general lack of contentedness with myself... or maybe a lack of contentedness with how I think other people see me? does that even matter? And maybe I could dress more feminine on purpose? Maybe own that I am in fact a woman, that it is actually a good thing to feel feminine, maybe lean into that... when I dress in any way that's a little girly I feel flashy, self-conscious, like I'm drawing attention. And drawing attention to myself feels like a mortal sin (and there we get a little window into why I generally don't like overly-expressive gestures- that generally is important) even though it's not. So maybe lean into my style a little more and make more eye contact, but then what for? Is the goal just for some guy to notice me and say 'Ooh, I like that one,' and we call it a win? Cuz on a level that sounds nice, but then I understand that I do in fact have value as a human being without a man next to me and knowing that makes me throw up in my mouth a little at the thought of making personal changes just so a guy might look at me differently. And let's talk about how much work a relationship even is- how much work people are- bro, we are so messy. Getting to know someone is a risk every step of the way- at least that's how I feel rn- I literally will never have enough information on a person to be able to say for absolute certain that they're safe to trust. I have/had a friend I thought I understood then they hauled off and flashed this other side of themselves that deals with problems in a mean, passive aggressive way that I find very off-putting- how do I trust them after that? after having seen how they are when the rubber meets the road? Maybe the person I thought I knew before is still real, and maybe the passive aggressive person is, too, maybe they're both, or maybe both are them, I don't know. I've just been feeling generally disenchanted with people, with the concept of getting to know them, of letting them get to know me, and then to think that I want a relationship, where I have to try to trust a guy to be good to me and where I have to trust myself to do right by him, all while getting to know him and (transactionally?) letting him get to know me? Literally terrifying- any moment, I could learn something about him that turns out to be a deal breaker, and until then I'm giving him information about me knowing he may not be a safe person to hand it to, trying to withhold as much as possible until better understand whether it's safe to move forward. That sounds exhausting, and not at all sane or right. I think dating can be more casual than I'm wont to make it... I just fall so fast, I want each good-looking guy with a halfway decent personality to be the perfect guy (to the point where I project who I'd like him to be onto him in my head until the illusion breaks under the inevitable weight of reality and leaves me a little shattered. that was kinda deep, bro whoa). So casual is hard for me, but that shouldn't be an excuse. So we're up to, maybe, lean into my style, make more eye contact on purpose, and be more casual with dating (as that hypothetically occurs) and with opposite sex interaction in general.

       Let's also talk about something that frustrated me today. So today was Thanksgiving, right? I'm home with my mom and dad and my brother. My mom and I were up early-ish this morning, her at 730 me at 830, and we made all the thanksgiving stuff (slight aside: I feel legitimately sick to my stomach when I think about all the food we're able to have without a second thought- there are people in dire need of food everyday and there are families that can't afford to make a ridiculous thanksgiving spread, they have to trade this hallmarked extravagance that I take for granted for basic staples of survival, and that kills me. I feel like I don't have a right to say it kills me if I'm not actively fighting tooth and nail to change it, which I'm not, but I still hate it and I still wish it were different.) and finished up at about 1230 or 1. At this point, neither of the guys had gotten out of bed... fine, ya know, whatever. Me and Mom sit down to eat and have lunch just the two of us- which was really nice in its own way, ya know, less energy flying around, more one-on-one conversations, I'm always down for quality time- but I felt kinda sad about it. We watched a movie and went for a walk and came back and played a card game and started processing the day together and realized we were both pretty sad and kinda ticked at how it had gone down. At this point we still hadn't seen the guys... Dad was asleep- and he works hard, I get it, sleep as you can, but..... bro, this is was the last day I was gonna get to sit down and talk with him or play dominoes or even just watch something funny and he wouldn't get out of bed at all? And my brother stays in his room most of the time, Xbox chatting with friends or on his phone, and again those are fine things but like... I'm not here a lot? and I don't get to see him or hang out with him much? and he couldn't even come downstairs? It's pretty frustrating. That's actually watering it down, I'm really very mad about it. Me and Mom decided next time we'll over-communicate what we want to have happen, i.e. we'll be very clear that we would really like everyone to come to the table for lunch/dinner and kind of plan an intentional group time... and that's great, and very effective boundary-wise, but should I have to say, formally, that I want to spend time with my Dad on one of my four days here? Maybe I guess... should I have to always go find him though? Cuz that feels definitively one-sided. It would be cool if he would just say, ' I really want to hang out with you, let's find a time.' Like is it indicative at all that that makes me cry a little? I understand I'm not a bother to him, but I don't want to always be the one asking for attention, I want to know that he will actively make an effort to hang out with me if he notices we haven't in a while or if this is the last day we can. That doesn't seem like an unrealistic expectation, or like something I should even have to clarify, that just seems like something he should want to do. But he'll say he doesn't want to interrupt my time with Mom or my time with my brother- but it's not interrupting to poke your head into a room and say let's hang out later. And since when is it a crime for us to all hang out together? Again, I feel very angry about it, kind of cheated. And- not to go Freudian (if that's what this would be)- but maybe that's why I want a guy to want me, to show me that he's interested in me, that he's willing to make me a priority- I'm crying again- and that he's willing to make time for me on the regular, not just on random special occasions. I want a dude to do what he says he's gonna do: if he says he's gonna make himself more available to me and make sure we hang out more, I think it would be the sweetest thing in the world if he actually did that (, Dad). Hate that. And my brother will likely guilt trip me on the way out saying I didn't do anything with him while I was here; no, I didn't do much, and that's on me, but he also didn't come find me or anything (he's 16, I don't think I'm being too hard on him to expect him to make some effort). We can all do better... maybe I need to talk to them, tell them both that if they want to hang out with me they need to make it a priority, that I don't want to always be the one to come knocking. Why doesn't Dad come downstairs when I come home? Why do I have to go upstairs to say hi? I could get home after not seeing everyone for a while, sit in the kitchen for five-ever catching up with Mom but still have to go upstairs to talk to Dad- what the heck, Richard? And it's so hard for me to stay mad at him- which is ridiculous- it's like I have an emotional blind spot where it takes a while for me to actually feel mad at him, and then it takes a lot for me to carry that angry through long enough to do it justice in a conversation. What's that about? Women and their dads? I don't know, but I think it's dumb, and it sucks, and I wish I could have spent thanksgiving with my whole family. Also, not to completely knock him, because he's great, hardest working person I know, I can talk to him about any kind of crazy thing, but my dad is not the most affectionate person? and that has kind of stung more and more lately. The hugs have gotten longer I think, which is nice, but it would be super cool if he'd just hold me... that's a thing I'd probably have to ask for, and that feels really embarrassing, so probably a big (developmental?) step... I don't know, man, I just want a guy to hold me. If that makes you sad for me, no it doesn't. I'm not great at asking for things- help, advice, affection, support, you know, basic stuff- and I've been noticing it more and more... it feels inappropriate to ask, or selfish, just generally out of line, like who am I that I should ask for a hug? Bro, what if they don't wanna give me a hug? What if I go to hug them and I make them uncomfortable? Basically what if I'm not wanted by people I care about? I'm sure that's not true, but that comes back to the trust thing- do I trust them when they say they care? Do I believe them? Do I trust that there's grace enough from them for me to be awkward without them running away? Do I believe them when they say they want to know me? 

       Lots of heavy. Valid heavy, but heavy nonetheless. I've told y'all, this is basically a journal for when I would rather type than physically write, so I have no plans to apologize for what I say and feel here, or for how it may make someone else feel.

       Either way, regardless of what the feelings say, God is great all the time, and all the time God is great. Jesus and therapy for the heckin' win.

       Party on party people, we'll talk later.

11.5.20

 I haven't posted on here in a while... I think this has been chilling in the back of my head kind of like a journal does: it's here for when I need to vent in a big way without being vulnerable in any kind of way. I haven't really tried to stay anonymous or anything- if anyone who knows me/knows of me read this or saw it, they would know I wrote it, and I guess I'm fine with that, even though this isn't stuff I would necessarily like to tell anyone... I don't know, this is easier/feels safer than texting someone and saying, "Hey I'm feeling whatever right now, help," even though that's definitely what I've been told and what I've found is most helpful. Is there even a point in going off on here if I know this isn't the most effective way I could deal with how I feel? The inner critic is just supposed to be an enneagram 1 thing, but I promise I have one, too... I did get a really high 1 the time I took the official test... not that I have to justify the way I am and how I think with some score, but I like myself to fit the formulas I've built for others in my head... ugh.

I guess I'm on here now because I feel insanely and yet vaguely overwhelmed... maybe it's the semester, or the whole 2020 disaster, or the fact that break is coming up and I don't know how to hold that excitement and despair in my head at the same time, or maybe it's something else entirely and I'm just blind to it. Either way, I've felt super unmotivated to do anything all day today, really all week, which isn't as problematic as it would be if I had more going on- this week's been eerily chill as far as work load and deadlines are concerned- but a group of us got together for prayer and dinner tonight, which is always great, and still was tonight, but during about the last fifteen minutes we were hanging out, I started to feel this tight-in-the-chest feeling, like you feel when someone scares you or when you're really nervous or whatever, and I started feeling really on edge... I walked back to my apartment both super aware of everything and everyone and also kind of zoning out at the same time- I don't think that's happened to me before? At least not while I've been out... I've had what are- apparently- technically called panic attacks before, like I get super short of breath and feel super scared for a good while right after something specific happens, those I've had two, maybe three times, but again, then there was a clear reason why. With this on-edgedness crap there wasn't a trigger, there wasn't a certain reason, it felt like it just started happening. And the whole time I was walking back to the apartment, I kept telling myself to stop being dramatic, to pull it together, that I was fine, that I was not doing this right now, all that super healthy self-talk, because it wasn't outright debilitating, and even if it had been, there was no reason for it so why even feel it? I got back to the room, came in and locked up, and went to walk by the dining room table, and my keys brushed the back of one of the chairs- it sounded to me like a walkie-talkie hand radio thing had given a burst of static somewhere in the room- meaning I thought there was someone else in the room- and I jumped, and I slammed my fist onto the table, and I might've yelled but I don't remember, and it was definitely just me and my keys in the place. I went and sat in my room for a while, put my back against a wall, tried to get physically comfortable, tried to relax, tried to figure out what was going on. I felt more calm after a little bit and it's been a few hours since then, but as I've been sitting back at the table doing homework and stuff, I've felt waves of near-panic and whatever the feeling is where you want to throw everything away and pack a bag and walk away and cry all at the same time, and I don't know if those are characteristic of an on-going anxiety attack or if they're just a sign that it's the end of the week and I need a break. Apparently anxiety attacks can go on for hours to days, and you don't have to be having some massive meotional breakdown the whole time, you can just have an on-going sense of dread... in which case I think I've been in an anxiety storm for like a month now. It also really didn't help that I checked instagram and got confirmation- more or less- that a couple of my friends are in the early stages of getting together. They're my friends, I should be happy for them both and I am that, but I am also so sick of getting my hopes up. I do a thing where I fixate on people- something the podcast No Small Thing told me is not in fact a sign that I'm crazy but is just an idiosyncrasy characteristic of folks with the one-to-one enneagram instinct variant (that's not an endorsement or a plug or whatever, that's just my little way of saying how relieved I was to hear that other people do the same ting I do, at least we're maniacs of a feather, that makes it better). But yes, fixating- I do a thing where I fixate on a person, and once I'm locked onto them, they're just on my radar: I'm always aware of where they are in a room when they're around, I'm always aware of when they're gone; I try and pick up on as much information about them as I can, whether through conversations about them, or by hearing others mention them or their associations in passing, or sometimes even conversations with them; I usually don't interact directly with them though, as my way of overcompensating for knowing how much room they're taking up in my head, and because- without sounding pitiful or self-deprecating- I'm sure the interest is not mutual and it would literally be my nightmare to annoy them or bother them or freak them out; the whole goal is for them and anyone else to never find out that they're on my radar, and to make sure that happens, I've noticed I tend to act very indifferently toward them, maybe coming across as publicly ignoring them? I don't know. And this whole thing, upon reading it back, sounds like a textbook confession to a stalking charge, but let me be very clear: I do not invade personal privacy with this, I do not bother these people who I basically adopt as research hobbies- no one knows. Which, again, sounds creepy, but it's more harmful to me than anyone else because no one- especially whoever I get stuck on- knows. So, all that to say, one of these folks appears to be working toward a relationship, which is great- God knows we're all lonely, and, not that dating someone could ever fix loneliness, it definitely won't hurt- but it's also incredibly painful, and also incredibly humiliating, if only to myself, because I- again- got stuck on someone who didn't notice (even though I made every effort to ensure they didn't notice... there is nothing self-fulfilling about this cycle, what ever do you mean).

But, yes. That felt like one more thing to shove down and deal with later, but, like I've been telling people, I think wherever I've been shoving all this stuff that I plan to "deal with later" is running out of room, because crap keeps spilling out, but it's so twisted and misshapen from being crammed in a vault for so long that once it's out I don't even recognize what it's supposed to be, I just feel all the feelings that made me want to get rid of it in the first place. How am I supposed to handle that? Do I just cry now? Pay my debt to myself and cry about all the things as they come up and try not to shove anything else away in the meantime? I think that would require me reestablishing myself with everyone I know as a person who cries a lot a lot of the time... that wouldn't necessarily be unhealthy, but it might be annoying, if not to them then to me. I wish there was some gauge, some way to tell how long I would need to spend processing whatever I've been suppressing so I could just set aside that time and approach the whole process as just another thing to get done, as something with a clear start and end date with a clear end result... I don't think I'm built like that, though, with a panel somewhere that has a constant readout of mental health statistics for me to analyze... where's the Lord in all this? I haven't really mentioned Him this whole time, and He's everything, so how could I not... that's not meant to be shaming, not to sound like the post wouldn't have been valid if I didn't explicitly mention God, I just want to see where He is in all of this, that'll make it easier for me... not to mention, however He sees this is how it Really is, so why not try to figure that out? So where's He in this... He's my home. There are songs and books and movies that talk about that person you're supposed to find at some point being your home, 'home is wherever they are', 'it's no home without you', all that... I get the feelings behind that (not from experience, but in theory- which should literally be the story of my life, and which I understand is not the same as understanding- but that's the best I can do), and I don't think some levels of most of them are necessarily wrong, but ultimately making someone else your home is a recipe for disaster; I am not a house, I am a broken person who has literally no idea what's going on ninety-nine percent of the time, there is absolutely no way I could be a home for you, and there's no way anyone else could be a home for me. Do you have any idea what I need? Like all of it? What I would need to fix all the warps and cracks and splinters in my heart and mind and soul? No, you have no clue, and there's no way you ever could. Maybe you could learn a lot about me, maybe we could become great friends, maybe you could help heal some of the cracks, but there is no way you could ever heal or fix me to the extend that I need healing or fixing, and there is no way I could do that for you, so, there is no way I could be your home or you could be mine. God however. God is willing and able to do all of that and more- He is our home, He is where we go for healing, and more importantly in the context of this post, for understanding. He is the only one who does and who ever will completely understand me; that's ultimately what I'm looking for in these human hobbies I get hooked on- I want my intense interest in everything about someone to result in them noticing that interest, truly appreciating it, and reciprocating it by wanting to learn and know everything about me; I'm looking for someone here on earth to know me as only God does and as only God can. That's why it keeps hurting so much every time I get my hopes up only to have to drop them back down, because every time I'm having to pull my heart away from a god I've adopted, I'm having to stand back up after my legs have fallen asleep because of how long I've been kneeling before an idol... so that's where God is, He's who I'm looking for. The tricky part about applying that answer is that He isn't physically here, there's not a guy I can keep an eye out for every time I'm out... of course the rebuttal there is I can look for God in everything, all of creation testifies to His existence, His mark is on everything... but that's just evidence, I know He's real, now I want to hug Him. And for that, I can't just go hug a tree. The answer to this specific problem is that He is who I'm always looking for when I get fixated on people, that tendency is a warped version of the devotion He put in me that is meant to be given back to Him, but then what do I do about this quasi-need for physical connection with people? This wierd thing where I really just want a guy to hold me- nothing sexual about it, nothing extra- just a guy I care about to hug me and hold me, what's up with that? Maybe it's not a quasi thing, maybe that's a genuine need we have, somewhere high up there in the hierarchy, but say it's totally legit- where's God about that? He gives us His people, we have His church for support and fellowship and encouragement... so somewhere within that community, I guess the answer is that I need to find a guy to hug me and hold me. Which, after typing it out, feels absolutely ridiculous and like something I want literally no one I know to ever read. I really don't know what that solution looks like in my particular day-to-day. Right now, it probably means more waiting, as in my soul, my whole being, everything that I am, waits for the Lord. His timing is perfect, and believing that is what it means for me to be patient... prayers for that. 

That's a long caveat about an aspect of what I think I'm feeling... I'm kind of over thinking and writing about all of it, but I think I know that the low-buzz background anxiety I guess I've got going on is something real and something that's going to need my attention soon, if not immediately. And I need to get my community involved in helping me with that. Everybody is feeling panicked and crazy right now though- it's 2020 for one thing, and we're still in the middle of an election for some reason- and I feel like I'd rather wait til a better time comes up where whatever it is I need can be the main thing, or at least won't be taking away from other people's issues- I don't want to be one more person who needs help, ya know? Not right now. But there's never a convenient time to deal with this stuff, or so I've been told. ~~ Either waaaay ~~ that's what I've got to say for now. I wonder how many people have seen this... hmm. Until next time, we be vibin' and leanin' on God til we feel better- deuces people.

5.14.20

      I'm happy to report that it has been confirmed by the meme and twitter community en masse that the question 'Where are you from?' and its variants, in the context of a random dm conversation, is generally not asked out of actual curiosity but as a starter for a very specific type of conversation. I get a kick out of talking all fancy like that, but yeah, I found a meme that implied that someone asking 'where ya from' was their way of opening up a kind of flirting exchange. That sounds so clinical... anyway, yes. I've had a fair share of random dudes (one guy in particular was really too old, in my opinion, to be using Instagram for what he was trying to use it for) hit me up out of the blue, and they've all gotten around to asking that question. I'm not in any position to judge pick-up lines, but if I may, that just strikes me as lazy. Or maybe not, maybe it's just generic? That must be it- I think there are other more earnest ways to open up a discussion. Then again if you're not in it for the person necessarily but aren't at the point where you can justify asking directly for a hookup, maybe some generic conversation is just what you need to smooth out your self-image... I don't know.

       I wonder if I should be making a more active effort to actually have one of those conversations? Not in search of a hookup or anything close, that'd be in violation of an order, but one of the 'flirty-get-to-know-you' conversations... I wonder if I'd magically unlock some hidden reserve of every-day confidence if I was able to talk to a person in that context. But it's not like it'd be a one-off type deal; at some point, unless they're somehow not looking for anything sexual either, I'd have to draw the line, and telling someone who came into a situation expecting a certain outcome, and had the societal standard to back that expectation, that you'd rather banter over text than actually meet up at a motel somewhere feels like a recipe for disaster. Of course by disaster I mean being accused of leading someone on or of being a tease, and in the grand scheme of things, who cares what some random guy calls me? but then, is that fair? If a guy I do not know direct messages me saying 'hey' or asking where I'm from, I assume he's looking for some kind of rendezvous or some kind of entertainment, neither of which I plan on offering, and I may be wrong to assume that, but I don't think I am. So, with that, would it be fair for me to message some random guy with 'hey' or to ask him where he's from knowing he likely expects me to be looking for the same things I would assume if the situation were reversed? The societal standard is, when you get a random dm, they want nudes or sex, so would it be fair to message someone and not  be looking for those things? to just want to talk? Even if it isn't exactly unfair, I feel like there'd be some considerable backlash.

       And why do I even think I need to have one of these talks? what do I think I could gain from it, other than some crisis of conscience? Is it safe or accurate to believe that everything I will need social development-wise I will get through God? He says, "But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown in the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?...For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (Matthew 6 v 30, 32-33 ESV) concerning clothes and food and drink... things we need... so is social development something I need? It's not good for man to be alone, He says that too, and He provides His people with a like-minded community... so maybe it's not a need as I understand it, but something that's essential for quality of life and something that's provided for either way. It's all very interesting... okay, so follow-up question: is it wrong for me to message a guy then? I mean a random guy... and I guess I don't mean truly random, I'd be choosing based on looks, and that definitely makes the whole thing feel a lot shadier. And I'd be doing it out of a fear that if I didn't I'd miss "the one" (which is such a whacked out concept anyway, and not one I believe in my head (my heart's a different thing)), and I shouldn't run at other people out of fear. God's got me. Every friend I have now, every true friend, I met incidentally, just along the way to go do whatever it was I was gonna do anyway, and the experiences and memories I have with them aren't artificial, they're not things I could find by trolling profile pics on Instagram, I couldn't have manufactured them if I'd been trying to. They're real. I want more of that, I want deeper incidental friendships, and if along the way I get the chance to have that fun banter with some guy, all the better. At least if it were to come about from hanging around good friends, there probably wouldn't be the expectation for anything more than conversation.

       So it'll probably be a no to the random dm-ing... I just miss my friends. 

       But- we'll be back in the fall!! There'll be some roughly enforced policies about wearing masks in class and staying away from people, but we'll be back! I gotta make it three months. God'll carry me through it, it's gonna be okay. I can't wait to see everyone again! And I'm gonna start just talking to everyone casually, even if I find them distracting... that'll be easier the warmer and friendlier I am by default, so when I talk to someone I want to be warm and friendly with, I won't get hemmed up worrying if I'm acting noticeably different than normal... worrying less about what other people may be think in general will be good... I need to embrace my inner 8 (if you know the enneagram- if not, it's a suped up personality test, and 8s tend to be very direct, decisive type people... of course there's a whole other batch of personal problems to deal with there, but)... she's in there, we just don't talk much. Cramps have been kicking me around today, and I've found it a lot easier to just say what I'm gonna go do and what I want with them acting up like this, maybe something to do with pain fatigue. It's been pretty nice, not letting as much anxious overthinking in every time I need to make a decision or talk to someone in the house.
       I definitely started this as a kind of online journal, not for an audience, without plans to market it or post the url all over and get the views up or whatever, and that's still true... I catch myself making provisions for some audience I assume is there, like explaining what the enneagram is. And a part of me definitely does want this found and celebrated, but that's my pride, and she really doesn't need to make any decisions. If my goal is ever fame or recognition or anything like those, I pray they are not given to me. I pray nothing I ever do for my own glory is successful, including this. Plus, it's not like it'd be exactly anonymous- if this got as big as I fantasize it getting, and if it got around to anyone I know, it would take about two seconds for them to recognize me- either by the username or the writing. So this would turn into a wierd confession feed with all the wonky complications that come along with something like that.
       I also don't edit this enough to proudly present it to any group of people I care about, and I kinda wanna keep it that way, less pressure.
       So, if you read these, I won't say I don't care, because I do, but know that, as much as I can manage, I'm not writing these for you. 

5.8.20

       I've been feeling particularly joyous today, if not overly bubbly... I've been reading C.S. Lewis's The Four Loves (it's amazing, even if he and I butt heads on a couple of things), and I started the chapter on Charity (his chapter on God's Grace being the ultimate love), and have felt increasingly aware of this joy and relief that I think came with a clearer understanding that I don't have to feel close to God for Him to be close to me, for His grace to cover me. I feel more relaxed, generally less concerned about being enough of the right thing, more able to trust that He means what He says when He says He loves me and He's got me.
       It's honestly such a maddening thing to worry about, the being enough, because the more I think about it, the more critical I am of my performance, the more I see that there is an aggressive amount of stuff wrong with me; and not just with me, but in me. I am inherently jacked up, whether the clinical roots of the problems are in my childhood or high school or my own choices
 -- and regardless of the source, it's still my mess, and, yes, injustices have been committed against me, things have been said and done that I am not responsible for, that should not have been said and done, but I am starting to understand that whether I asked for it or not, the bags my family and friends and I have packed for me are mine now. I can leave them unclaimed and spend all my time hating and resenting the people who packed them, or I can pick them up, open them up, and start sorting them out. I'm still avoiding a lot of them, but I'm seeing more and more that that's not a sustainable approach --
and no amount of overthinking can change that or fix that or work around to some kind of solution, even if I convince myself that this time I can pull it off. That's been what I've been a little stuck on lately, trying to be just right. But, today, I was reading after breakfast and started to feel more and more relieved: I have literally no idea what's going to happen anytime soon, I'm sure my heart will have been broken by a dozen things by this time next week, I'm sure I'll inadvertently or very intentionally hurt my friends and family, I'm sure I won't live up to my own expectations, much less my Lord's commands, and I'm sure there's nothing I can do about the inevitability of all of it, but I'm also sure that my Lord knows that. He expects more failures and screw-ups from me than I could ever expect from myself, and He has decided to love me through it.
       I am lovely because He loves me. I love Him because He loved me first- I didn't hold it over His head, I didn't say, "I'll love You, but first, You need to love me," I didn't force His hand somehow, He chose to love me when I was vile.
       I feel like I'm dancing on the edge of some concepts and theology that I'm not academically qualified to talk about, so I'll end with this: I am completely responsible for my actions and at the same time I could never act in the way God tells me to; knowing this, God, loving, just, and true, has extended His inexhaustible grace to me. Because of that I can relax, and this pretty undercurrent of joy I'm hearing in my heart can carry on.
     

4.5.20

I named this blog the way I did to remind me to remain hopeful; I tend toward pessimism that I call realism, and that's not a recipe for a joyful posture.

I'm on lockdown with everyone else, and the weekends are the hardest- I don't have my set work to do and so I usually sleep later than I ought to, calling it self-care- which it can be, but usually isn't- and end up in a kind of foggy, ultra-introspective headspace that makes me sad. 

I was in the shower, talking to myself like I do, and I said, "I am too hard on myself." Which is super true, I know it, my friends and family know it, but it wouldn't feel like a huge issue if it was reasonable. I push too far because once I reach the initial goal, I see there's still something to be had beyond it and call myself a loser if I don't go the extra couple, or dozen, or hundred steps to get there. When I don't do the absolute most in the most flawless way, I call myself weak, a failure, a lazy bum who won't amount to anything if I keep this same subpar work ethic up; my own worst critic. 

That also wouldn't be a problem if I didn't believe me. I believe a lot of those things about myself, and even though I know better, they have the power over me to define me to myself. Only my Lord is the rightful holder of that power, and I don't always give it to Him. 

I was talking with a friend of mine yesterday about identity. I said that I don't know how to apply the Gospel's message on identity to my life. Like we know and hear over and over that Jesus calls us loved and forgiven and redeemed, but what does that look like for me when I feel like my mom is mad at me or when I feel like if I had just said this differently, we could've avoided a fight? What does that look like day-to-day when I'm wrong?

Routinely, I tell myself that being wrong makes me bad. I am not a good person, I am not the right person, enough for everything that's around me, and that makes me bad, I say.

But, enter shower rant:

Tonight on American Idol, on of the ladies who made it to the top 20 was going over her Hollywood Week performance and how Katy Perry was rooting for her; she said that hearing Katy Perry say she 'killed it' during her performance changed the way she saw herself. Me and my argumentative self want to know why that is? Any rando on the street could tell you you did a great job and it wouldn't mean nearly as much or make nearly the impact that it did coming from Katy Perry. Why? 

Katy Perry is an expert in her field; she has a wealth of knowledge and experience that give her authority in the art of vocal performance. Her word is validated, supported, fleshed out by who she is. 

Now, imagine some guy invents a brand new field in machine technology; he imagines, designs, and builds these machines that do all types of different stuff- everything about these machines, every detail, no matter how small, or mundane, or seemingly insignificant, is put in place with by this creator. He knows each machine- inside, outside, and in the middle- he knows how each one functions, he knows how fast each one goes, he knows which ones have crooked wheels and which ones have crossed wires. 

As the creator of the machines, nothing he says of them would be false- not on purpose (he has no reason to lie about what's his), and not on accident (he would only accidentally say something untrue about them if there was something he didn't know or understand about them)- so everything he says about them, no matter what it is, is absolutely unquestioningly, true.

As time goes on in this metaphorical world some of the machines crop up as experts in the field concerning themselves; they start presenting their opinions, about which kinds of machines are best suited for which jobs, about which machines look better than the others, about what the future holds for the machines. And they're experts, they have the credentials that say how many hours they've spent and how many other experts they've talked to to learn all these things about themselves and the machines around them, and the other machines see those creds, and they see the way other machines agree about them, and they say, "How could it not be true?"

But the creds and certificates are actually overkill- the machines don't need a degree to come up with believable opinions about themselves, they just have to be able to think, and once they start in on it, they start believing everything they say about themselves, and if they're honest, they're not kind to themselves, and yet they believe that all the harsh things they beep at themselves are just hard truths, that they really are worthless, broken, damaged and defective machines; and, if they listen just the right way, they'll hear the other machines say the same.

What if though, what if that guy who created the machines, the guy who can't lie about them, the guy who knows every dent, scratch, and loose bolt in every single different machine, what if he had stuff to say to them? If he told a machine it was more valuable than all the gold in the world, that would be true. If he told a machine that he knew about its slow work, and its bad attitude, and the wheel that the other machines stole from it, and if he told a machine that- in spite of all of that- it was a good machine, that would be true. 

I was running circles in my head telling myself how much of a mess I am, how I just can't get it right, how if I would just try a little harder, we would do better next time, and I will do it again, but I know that will drive me crazy. Different stuff gets me out of it each time, and this time it was this:

I know God made me. If He made me, then He knows me, He knows about my happiest memories and my favorite music and how I love when the wind is strong enough to scare me; He knows about my addiction, He knows about my dark December, He knows my every thought; He made me, so He knows me. Because He made me, and because He knows me, He can only say true things about me. He says that I am good. He says that I am good- even with my darkness and my anger and my corruption, He says I am good. That means that I am good whether I feel like I am or not; He says that when He looks at me he calls me good and faithful. The words themselves don't change my frame of mind or how I see myself at a point in time, it's who says them to me. Because of who He is- He of all authority, all expertise, all knowledge, all experience about me- He is the only One who can say what is true about me. 

4.2.20

I've made blogs before, they weren't consistent then and this one isn't likely to be either. I'm not doing this to hold anyone's attention, I'm not trying to entertain, this is more an outlet for me than anything, kind of a way to journal when I'm not in the mood to go find my journal and write stuff out by hand.

I've read some of my old posts, and as folks tend to do when they read any old thing they've written, I finished about two sentences and cringed away... there's some kind of background motive for this to not turn out that way, I don't want to disappoint my future self. But that's also not really a way to operate, people discount the future. If you didn't, how would you function? There's enough of a feeling that someone's looking over my shoulder, I don't want to have to deal with someone staring me down as I walk towards them, too.

The title of this blog is A Work in Progress, which I am. The url is boughtandpaidfor, which I also am. I don't know when exactly I became a Christian... I was raised with the general belief system, we started going to church when I was twelve, and I really got to know Jesus when I got to college. All the in between is rocky and dark and interesting, but more than I want to unpack right now. I don't know why I feel the need to lay out who I am if I'm rejecting the idea of an audience...

That's my identity that's true, that's the already. But I am dealing with all the hang ups in the not yet.

One of those is my parents' opinions.
This virus has me on house arrest for the next few weeks at least, realistically longer, and at first that was fine; I'm a homebody by default, so having an excuse to stay in, not make plans, felt great for the first week or so. We're in the end of week two now and tensions are running high in the house.
Maybe that's an exaggeration, it's not like everyone's fighting all the time, we're not, so maybe tensions are just high for me.

My dad and I are making a kind of clearing behind our house, just beyond a thicket in the woods; we're going to cover the whole clearing surface with rocks, and in the middle we're going to put a giant plastic drum down in the ground, surround that with rocks, and burn stuff in it.
Dad and I talked up the idea sometime last year and have just gotten around to doing it. The only issue- the first link in the chain that leads up to my retrospectively melodramatic idea to create a venting blog- is that a couple months ago my mother built a good and proper firepit in our backyard. She worked really hard, and it works well; we had a family bonfire the other night, it was great.

She is less than thrilled when she saw us making the pit. She feels that A- we're going to set the forest on fire by accident, and B- that we're showing up her firepit, oh and C- that Dad and I are trying to separate from the group- the full group being both my parents, my brother, and myself.

This makes it very hard to enjoy making this thing; I feel like I'm engaging in open rebellion against my mother, consciously doing something that makes her upset, but stopping working on it so that she wouldn't be mad would be a coward's move- running from something that's harmless as soon as Mom says she doesn't approve- it's a people-pleaser move. I just want to fix it.
Mom's detaching the idea of the pit from me so she can just set her anger on Dad; she told me, 'I know it wasn't your idea,' and I told her it was, it really was both mine and Dad's idea. Why does it matter to me how they feel?

It's apparently human to care about other peoples' opinions, it's part of wanting to be known and seen and loved by the people around you, that makes sense to me. But I want to be selective with that, I want to only give that power to the people who won't ever use it badly. But that takes the risk out of it and so won't work.
I'm almost 20 years old and I forget who and how to be as soon as one of my parents says they don't like something I'm doing; I guess that's a good power to have as a parent, you can guide your kid away from stuff that's actively bad for them, but working on a project with my dad isn't bad for me, it's not hurting anything. Mom is always preaching logic and critical thinking and facts over feelings, but her feelings are illogical.

Why do they matter so much to me? She wasn't abusive, so it's not like a certain feeling triggers some warning that if I can't turn stuff around soon I going to get physically hurt. I don't like it when they disagree... maybe that's something- I can handle if both of them tell me, '___ made us mad,' then I feel like at least they're together on the thing- there are two clear-cut sides, mine and theirs. It's not Mom's and Dad's then mine somewhere in the middle... so that's a conclusion of sorts: it's less the actual irritation that bothers me and more the irritation at each other over something I'm a part of that frazzles me. But that still doesn't answer why I can't deal with Mom and I having an argument without resolving it and having to walk around the house dealing with her all angry or whatever. It sucks the energy out of me, like how am I supposed to just carry on as usual without it seeming like I'm rubbing it in her face? I have to acknowledge her feelings, I have to tell her that I see that she's mad and that I'm sorry and that I'll fix it. But that's not healthy. Her feelings aren't wrong, they don't need to be fixed. I need to figure out how to sit in the same room as them without letting them change the way I feel, but the how to do that stems from the why it's even a problem in the first place, and that's still unclear.

Could she have been manipulative early on? Maybe, but I don't know and I don't know that that's fair- or maybe I'm worried about her finding this someday and accusing me of being unfair... hypothetical manipulation could explain it- say I learned that when whoever was sad, it was my job to make them unsad, and that if I didn't then they would... what? Call me heartless, or uncaring, or mean? I don't want to be any of those things.

So say it stems from there: I don't want to be thought of or seen as not kind, as wrong, and if Mom's mad then something must've been done wrong, and if she's mad at something I did or was involved in, then I did that something wrong and I could have kept her from being angry by not doing whatever it was, by hiding it from her, by doing everything I can to show her that I'm doing the right thing the right way. I made sure to explicitly invite my brother to come work on the pit, I'm ashamed to say, not because I particularly wanted him to come along that time, but so that I could tell Mom that I tried to include him.

We're not taking sides, its a firepit, we're not trying to show you up, we're just trying to build a nice thing in the woods- open to the public. Maybe we could make a little fort or an overhang facing the fire, maybe it could be like a clubhouse or something when my brother and I have kids. I wish Mom would've seen how proud of this thing I was, how excited I am, how many ideas I've got for it...

I also wish Dad would give me a definitive direction when I say anything about the pit. I could say, 'Do you want to widen the circle?' and he'll say, 'I don't care, there's no rhyme or reason to this thing.' Yes there is what do you mean- we planned this, we had a plan when we started the whole thing, of course there's a rhyme and a reason to this thing- so with the way he was handling it, it was like it was becoming more and more my project, and more his outlet for cabin fever, and so Mom's anger about the fire pit should be directed at me primarily, because I'm the most enthusiastic about it. Disagreeable enthusiasm is met with disproportionate anger... that's a little dramatic again- Mom controlled herself and told me she's not mad at me- I could go on and on, but I won't...

There's hope. Where there's frozen ground, there's progress to be had.
Ultimately, the only approval I need is that of my Lord- His love is enough for me, it just doesn't feel like it sometimes, but that is nothing but human and is where God's strength is made perfect.