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I've been dealing with some frankly awkward circumstances around the home lately, much to my chagrin. My home, historically, has not always been a refuge for me, but when I moved to Seattle for a time, I had become accustomed to a sense of quiet that seemed to seep into the walls, the darkened other room, a smell of cooking and jasmine and the hum of a ceiling fan.
That's really not my current situation, and it really hasn't been for a little over a year now. There have been upsides to my living arrangements that number beyond the financial, but lately things have turned sour, and I had really been struggling to come to terms with events that had left me feeling very, very small for reasons I had trouble putting my finger on. Now that I've finally managed to figure out where I'm coming from, and after at least one terribly awkward and highly drunk, drawn out conversation, I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. The good news is that I'm not beating myself up anymore, but the bad news is that I'm actually kind of angry. In my ignorance and irritation, I've lashed out at my friends recently, but I feel that the heart of the situation lies with someone else. I haven't had a chance to address it in full yet, but I'm not particularly optimistic. The issue itself may be small, but talking to this person is exceptionally difficult and, considering that I'm pretty done with allowing myself to be stepped on to prevent rocking the proverbial boat, it may go pretty poorly.
Ever since that late night conversation, we've both been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Since I'm holding the shoe, I get to decide the time, so there we are.
Yeah, this is a little different then my usual media-based yammering. I've written parts out time and again over the weeks, deleted it, debated with myself if this is the kind of thing I should be posting online, ect, et al, forever. I don't know if it's wise. It's got pages devoted to it in my paper journal, but I kind of wanted to sit down and say, "This is where I've been. I've felt about 6 inches tall for weeks, and basically just miserable." But sometimes when you're kicking yourself, you realize that you're being prayed on. That someone's using you to make themselves bigger. And you don't have to accept that, even from a friend.
That's really not my current situation, and it really hasn't been for a little over a year now. There have been upsides to my living arrangements that number beyond the financial, but lately things have turned sour, and I had really been struggling to come to terms with events that had left me feeling very, very small for reasons I had trouble putting my finger on. Now that I've finally managed to figure out where I'm coming from, and after at least one terribly awkward and highly drunk, drawn out conversation, I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. The good news is that I'm not beating myself up anymore, but the bad news is that I'm actually kind of angry. In my ignorance and irritation, I've lashed out at my friends recently, but I feel that the heart of the situation lies with someone else. I haven't had a chance to address it in full yet, but I'm not particularly optimistic. The issue itself may be small, but talking to this person is exceptionally difficult and, considering that I'm pretty done with allowing myself to be stepped on to prevent rocking the proverbial boat, it may go pretty poorly.
Ever since that late night conversation, we've both been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Since I'm holding the shoe, I get to decide the time, so there we are.
Yeah, this is a little different then my usual media-based yammering. I've written parts out time and again over the weeks, deleted it, debated with myself if this is the kind of thing I should be posting online, ect, et al, forever. I don't know if it's wise. It's got pages devoted to it in my paper journal, but I kind of wanted to sit down and say, "This is where I've been. I've felt about 6 inches tall for weeks, and basically just miserable." But sometimes when you're kicking yourself, you realize that you're being prayed on. That someone's using you to make themselves bigger. And you don't have to accept that, even from a friend.
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