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Where is my mind?
Jul. 12th, 2002 07:13 amSomething broke last night. It had been building for a few days and I don't know where it came from. I swore I would never do anything to hurt Remy, ever, and last night I did. There was no reason for it. It wasn't much as fights go, not considering that it involved no real screaming at him, and he was so sweet about it, saying I was already forgiven, but I swear it wasn't ok. It still isn't. Yes, I was disappointed, but that was no excuse. He said the only thing that would have seriously hurt him was to continue berating myself for it, but I can't really help it. I was in the wrong, and there's no getting around that. I had no right to behave as I did, not to him or to the poltergeist (or whatever he is. He made a lot of noise and opened doors for a while, but that's since stopped) whom I also screamed at. He had nothing at all to do with it, just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I think the going theory is that it has to do with a necklace, a silver pentagram that had a lovely spell on it for some time that had been wearing thin. And last night it finally broke. While the spell was wonderfully protective, I fear it did rather reduce any natural defenses I may have had. They atrophied in the wake of not having to work against much at all, and given the kinds of trouble I routinely get into, that's not a good thing.
The thing of it is that I had been so damned happy the last few days, everything had been going wonderfully, and I do something stupid. Like I always do. I mean, we had been so much closer than we had been recently, and I was pleased with that. It's just one of those things, if something is perfect I want to break it. I don't know why. It isn't a conscious desire, and any time I notice it I try to quell it, but it's still there, and I don't know how to get rid of it. Maybe I'm trying to compensate for my own rather broken self? I don't know. Yes, there are those who say that I'm not broken--dented maybe, bruised, but I think right now I disagree. I haven't done this in so long, and I have a rather unsettling suspicion that it might have been for attention, which is simply unconscionable. This is *not* the way you treat someone you love more than anything. What sort of miserable creature am I, under all this masking I've put up over the years?
And we haven't really had much by the way of us time recently. Mornings are deliriously early, evenings after work are meant for doing productive things that never seem to get truly finished, which leaves the night.... And given the hours we keep in the morning, nights are rather uninspiring of late. The timing is all off.... I hate this. I do love him, why can't I just act like it?
There’s so much more I want to say. I’m not really sure I know how though. The words simply aren’t forthcoming. By 6.20 I had already finished a cigarette, and I never smoke this early in the morning. But somehow seeing Remy off at the bus managed to shatter what little composure I had, and I walked home in tears. I never cry openly on the street, or try not to as a general rule. It’s so public…. Fortunately, at that hour of the morning there isn’t really anyone about to notice. I don’t want this to end as everything else has before, I don’t want to hurt him any more than I already have, but I fear that this will not be possible, that no matter what I may try I will still find ways to go psycho. Because that seems to be what I am made of—needles and pins and sharp pointy rusted bits and other such unpleasant things.
I think the going theory is that it has to do with a necklace, a silver pentagram that had a lovely spell on it for some time that had been wearing thin. And last night it finally broke. While the spell was wonderfully protective, I fear it did rather reduce any natural defenses I may have had. They atrophied in the wake of not having to work against much at all, and given the kinds of trouble I routinely get into, that's not a good thing.
The thing of it is that I had been so damned happy the last few days, everything had been going wonderfully, and I do something stupid. Like I always do. I mean, we had been so much closer than we had been recently, and I was pleased with that. It's just one of those things, if something is perfect I want to break it. I don't know why. It isn't a conscious desire, and any time I notice it I try to quell it, but it's still there, and I don't know how to get rid of it. Maybe I'm trying to compensate for my own rather broken self? I don't know. Yes, there are those who say that I'm not broken--dented maybe, bruised, but I think right now I disagree. I haven't done this in so long, and I have a rather unsettling suspicion that it might have been for attention, which is simply unconscionable. This is *not* the way you treat someone you love more than anything. What sort of miserable creature am I, under all this masking I've put up over the years?
And we haven't really had much by the way of us time recently. Mornings are deliriously early, evenings after work are meant for doing productive things that never seem to get truly finished, which leaves the night.... And given the hours we keep in the morning, nights are rather uninspiring of late. The timing is all off.... I hate this. I do love him, why can't I just act like it?
There’s so much more I want to say. I’m not really sure I know how though. The words simply aren’t forthcoming. By 6.20 I had already finished a cigarette, and I never smoke this early in the morning. But somehow seeing Remy off at the bus managed to shatter what little composure I had, and I walked home in tears. I never cry openly on the street, or try not to as a general rule. It’s so public…. Fortunately, at that hour of the morning there isn’t really anyone about to notice. I don’t want this to end as everything else has before, I don’t want to hurt him any more than I already have, but I fear that this will not be possible, that no matter what I may try I will still find ways to go psycho. Because that seems to be what I am made of—needles and pins and sharp pointy rusted bits and other such unpleasant things.
