Crisis of Confidence

A little drama happened tonight, and now I’m feeling low. Maybe I am a bad person. Maybe I deserve everything that’s happened. Everyone keeps passing judgment on me anyway, why not succumb to their low expectations. Why be good? It’s clearly not the way I am, not the way most people are apparently.

I wish I could just have my life back from last year. :’(

UPDATE: It’s morning now, and I’m feeling better some. I was just frustrated last night.

Untitled

And today sucks. Don’t want to do this.

72 Hours of Ups and Downs

I keep meaning to write, and I just haven’t found the time. But then I was reminded of something and just had to share it. Tonight someone left a comment on my now-defunct, but still hilarious Telephone Pictionary blog. Warning: This is not a family friendly blog. My last post on that blog was in April of last year, and yet I checked the stats, and it gets like 10 hits a day. I find this really really really funny for some reason. And then I checked out some of the drawings like Going to Church and Were You in the Shit? and I double over in glee. Ahh too good, too good.

It was also a relief to laugh because the past few days have been stressful and bad. Not all bad, but overall bad. I spent much of Saturday and Sunday with a crazy, crazy hateful rage inside of me directed towards A and his friends. My Grievances Towards Adam Hopkins Part 2.5 was in the making – however, for the time being it’s adverted. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wanted him to die some horrible painful death, how I wouldn’t give a fuuuck, how I wanted him to break his hands and never play music again, how I wanted to tell off him and his friends, who suck purely by association (I know irrational!), etc. etc. The worst part was I could not get myself out of this rage. And hating consumes a lot of energy. I suppose it’s just a necessary phase in this “grieving” process or whatever. But hopefully that’s the last of it.

I think this weekend was a little more difficult then the past few weeks because we were supposed to go to a wedding (with his parents) out of town. So, I inadvertently knew what he was doing, where he was, even though I didn’t want to be thinking about it. Next week, he’ll be with friends at a summer house at the beach. I know this, because I was supposed to go. Because we had all gotten together one night searching for houses and giggling over the ridiculous property names. So, I suppose next week will be more difficult than normal too, but eh. Hopefully after that, all our summer plans will have passed and I will never have to think about him again.

But back to this past weekend. What got me out of this rage? A much more direct and timely anger. See, in an attempt to get over my rage towards A, I told myself to go down to the farmer’s market, and if I still felt crappy when I got home then, and only then, could I lie in bed and cry all afternoon – because I’m a little bitch, yea yea. (To be fair though, I’ve gone quite a many days, nay even two weeks, without crying over that idiot and “idiotess” – his girl idiot? ha.) I went to the farmer’s market and as I began to walk back home, somewhat simmered down, I realized my keys were missing. And let me tell you, this put me into quite the tizzy for the next five hours. It’s not like farmer’s markets have lost and founds. I’ll spare you the details of the whole ordeal, but it took a solid nap and a lot of crying before I could put that weekend behind me.

More sad news before I go onto better news. Well, this is sort of good news, but has overtones of sadness. They released my Grandma from the hospital, and she’s actually well enough to go back home for the time being, which is what she wanted all along. Hospice is meeting her tomorrow to set up a schedule for nurses and volunteers to come to the house and help her. When she gets worse though and needs 24/7 care, hopefully since hospice is already looking after her, it’ll be easier to get her into the residence. It’s sad too, because she talks about “when she gets better…” and I don’t know if this is the denial or if she actually doesn’t understand that it’s terminal. She thinks the issues with her brain is just a matter of some issue she has with her leg. So, I can’t tell if it’s just grieving denial, or if her mental faculties actually aren’t with it anymore…

On to happier news, I have so much happening for me professionally and creatively that it’s very exciting, if not a little stressful. I won’t get into the full details, but here are some things I’m working on (these notes are really more for me, but do read on):

- Inspiration series
- Female Designer Interviews
- Creation of a typeface
- Thank you cards
- 3 Typefaces – one script, one sans and one undecided
- Propaganda posters

I’m sure you’ll find out more about these things on here or on my design blog: The Gray Suite in the future. (Oh, and something else cool, today’s Brought to You by the Letter… was Lobster, B. And the creator of Lobster, Pablo Impallari, left a comment on my post, which made me feel special. Yay.)

What else, what else. Work is good. I always feel like it’s dull for two days and then a shit storm for two days where everything is due and clients want to talk on the phone for hours, etc. It’s not a bad thing though, I like the pressure. I got three sign-offs in one day, which is well, bad ass. I can also tell that my design skills keep getting better. Ya know, the whole practice makes perfect. I’m nowhere near perfect, but I’m also no longer anywhere near sucking.

Oh, and I also realize that I’m going to drop my Facebook account soon. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when and provide contact info and all that good stuff. It won’t be until my two new sites go up, which should be sometime this month. Oh yea, did I not mention that yet? I have two sites (of my own creation, design and upkeeping) that should go live soon. YAY! Don’t worry, you’ll know when it happens because I’ll be doing figurative cartwheels all over this blog and Twitter. But back to dropping Facebook, I just sort of realized that I’d rather do 90% of my socializing in real life and not online. I think social media is great, and I’ll continue to utilize it for my profession, but I’d rather let my friendships naturally ebb and flow. I think it’s natural for people to come and go in one’s lifetime, but social media is sort of casting that notion aside, and I’m not sure if it’s for the better. Like a friend from college, whom I never talk to anymore, tells me Happy Birthday on Facebook, which is always nice. But at the same time, I’d be much more happy for him or her to call me up out of the blue and say, hey I’m coming into town, can I crash with you. Because than this person enters back into your life – even if only briefly – in a much more interesting way that provides for new memories and new assertions about this person. An electronic Happy Birthday, doesn’t quite do that. Facebook, for all its unlimited possibility for exchange and dialogue, is rather one-sided.

Okay, I think that’s it. Oh yeah, and I’m moving! Imagine everything I mentioned above, and then add on the fact that I’ve got to pack my life into boxes and throw stuff away, make trips to Goodwill, sell stuff on Craigslist (anyone need a couch, bookshelf or misc Ikea crap) and plan what I’ll need during my travels. Indeed, I’m stressed.

Stage 4

It’s been a rough week. Last week my grandma went to the hospital because she was short of breath and dizzy. While, I always worry when her or my grandpa go to the hospital, I don’t think too much of it. They’re in and out hospitals pretty regularly, as most 70-something, heavy smokers are.

Well this visit was different. It turns out she has lung cancer, and it’s spread across her body  and brain. The doctor called it a Stage 4 cancer. And well, lets just say, there’s no Stage 5. For whatever reason, the hospital released her and she went home. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake. She didn’t suffer a stroke technically, but she had lost a lot of mobility on the left side of her body due to the swelling around her brain. So she has a lot of trouble doing basic things, and my grandpa just isn’t in the shape to take care of her.

Two weeks ago, I was down at her house programming her new cell phone and she was calling people and learning how to send text pictures. This weekend, she couldn’t cook, change her clothes or even stand up without any help. The change (err rather, deterioration) is remarkable. It’s happening so quickly.

In retrospect, when I was over to their house, programming her phone, something strange did happen that I wish I picked up on. In between calls, my grandma handed me some photos and was telling me about them. They were photos of a friend’s winning vegetables at some county fair — no joke, red and white checkered clothes and blue ribbons — and my grandma told me about each one. Then she made another phone call. And then she handed me the photos back and proceeded to tell me about each one again. I looked at her, amused, thinking she was kidding, and said, “Grandma, you just told me about these.” And her deep blue eyes met mine and they were blank, lost. She didn’t really acknowledge what I had said, and went back to making another phone call. I thought it was just a bit of a senior moment…

But back to this week. My Uncle and his family came into town to see my Grandma, which was so bittersweet. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen my Aunt and Uncle and my cousins (who are the cutest 10 and 8 year old kids). But when family is driving six hours to see grandparents for an unplanned visit, it means something. Something bad, sad.

After a few days, they went back home and Grandma went back to the hospital (a different one this time.) I spent today down there and it was a tough day. When my dad and I got there, she asked me, how close we were to their trailer. “Um… grandma, we’re an hour away. We’re in Pennsylvania.” ”Oh, so you didn’t just pass the trailer?” “No… we’re not close…”

It was so frustrating because to some extent, she appears lucid. She told me that her books were due at the library tomorrow and she told me where to find them at the house. She talked about relatives. She stood up from her chair just fine. But she asked me what day it was like 5 times. She didn’t know what hospital or what state she was in or how she got there. She kept talking getting tests done for a diagnosis and treatment, so she can get back some of her mobility and strength. And worst of all, she insists that she wants to hurry up and go home. …And that’s just not going to happen.

I think she’ll be in the hospital for a few more days, but we’re trying to get her into our local hospice. But it’s a small place with only a few beds, so she might end up in a nursing home. And I worry about the type of care she’ll get in a nursing home. She’s scared as all hell at the idea of going to a nursing home. She just wants to go home, and have someone there providing 24/7 care. Unfortunately, that’s just not an option. For the time being I’m keeping my fingers tightly crossed for hospice.

Niche

I think what I’m missing in life is really a niche group of friends who are interested in the same things I am. I’m visiting B in Chicago and as a result we end up hanging with a lot of improv people. And it’s similar to when I hung out with A and his friends. They’d all get together and talk about jazz. For the majority of the time I stood awkwardly around, wondering what the hell I was doing there and feeling terribly insecure because no one would talk to me. (Not because I’m not awesome, but because I just can’t talk jazz and they can’t not talk jazz.) It’s a little better with B’s improv friends because they talk about jokes and funny shit, which isn’t exclusive in itself, they end up taking a lot about their experiences and it’s relatable, so hanging with them was much easier. Jazz musicians get real exclusive, and no matter how much you think you’re a part of the club, you’re just plain not unless you’re a jazz musician (sorry girlfriends.)

Every now and then I would ask A if he cared that I didn’t play music, if there was something about him that I would just never get. He would reassure me that it’s not like that. Come to find out, that’s exactly what’s it’s like considering him and Shannon shared something so deep in just three weeks — it’s about the muuusssiiicccc. When he got back from Banff and told me about her, and I brought this up to him, he said no she’s not better, it’s just different. (Different enough for him to ditch three and a half years for.) He compared it to his music friends and his old friends from high school. And yeah, he definitely treats them differently – in my opinion I’d say his non-music friends get the short end of the stick. He calls them when he wants to, when it’s convenient to him. But yeah, I guess that’s just how he treats people outside of his exclusive circle. That’s how he treated me. (And don’t think that just because you’re in his exclusive music circle that you make the grade. Because trust me some of you don’t according to him.)

I wonder how clutch it is that your significant other is in the same field? I would have thought that that wouldn’t matter at all. But I’m actually thinking that it’s essential in a relationship. Now that we have so many options in life, it’s probably one of the easiest ways to narrow down the dating pool.

It’s Complicated

It never seems to sound the same or be as important days later. I should always write something as soon as I need to. Now the ideas have spoiled and I have to question whether any of it makes, whether I still feel this way, while still dealing with the nagging undercurrents that started it all to begin with.

I’m just not getting the overwhelming sense from A that this is anything special or long term. I get that this is great now. I get that he loves me and I believe him. But I don’t get that this has a future. And if something doesn’t have a future, the rational side of me doesn’t think a special, intense, exclusive relationship is really the best thing for me to be doing. What I really want to know is what he thinks/feels and whenever I try to broach the subject I feel like he just tells me that he doesn’t think about it. But then again, maybe the fact that he doesn’t think about it, is the point. I guess that’s my concern, maybe I just don’t want to hear what he’s not saying.

Maybe we’re just not compatible. He’s been working years now on a singular goal, and he’s achieving it. He’s a great musician and will no doubt get better. And this is something I like about him, this is appealing about him. (But this is not what is special about him.) He’s so different from me. A couple of years ago I didn’t have goals. I had no idea what I wanted to do or how to do it. I still wonder if my work is just some pet project that I’ll change my mind about in a couple of years. I’m finicky, he’s not. At the same time, ambition usually has a price. He told me that at some point he might out grow what he’s accomplishing here, and that he would do whatever was necessary to become a better musician. And this makes me sad and fearful. I don’t contribute anything to make him a better musician–his sole goal in life–so, it feels inevitable that he would outgrow me. I will just be a fond memory of past times. What am I supposed to do just wait around until that happens? My self esteem plummeting because I don’t feel good enough. Should I settle for being his companion until he can pull some strings and make something better happen for himself? How can I be with someone who doesn’t have my best interest at heart?

And maybe we’re not even that compatible as a couple. I know he think he doesn’t have to coddle me when we’re out. But I don’t think he understands how isolating it can be when we’re out together and 90% of any given conversation that is going on is about music. I can’t participate. And yet he thinks I’m fine as he goes off to do something else or talk with someone else or be with someone else, for unknown and long times. And I try to be fine, but at some point I have to start wondering what I’m doing there, who am I there for when he doesn’t even spend that time with me. And on other occasions when I attempt to talk about things I’m interested in, I’m not even met with feigned curiosity. I’m just met with a conversation stopping–well, I don’t know anything about that. And what’s implied is: I don’t care about that. I have a pretty intense curiosity in general, but I also make it a point to ask questions about music and musicians because I know that having this little database of knowledge will help me relate to/know him just a little bit better. And I feel like he’s rarely ever tried to make that deeper connection with me, particularly when it comes to feminism and women things, something that is as critical to my being as music is to him.

I didn’t always feel like he didn’t take an interest in me. I just feel like we’ve reached a point where he thinks he knows me. This is a fatal point in a relationship, when there’s no more discovery, no more discussion. And he doesn’t know all about me, but I want him to know me. And more so, I want him to want to know me. Things he probably doesn’t know about me:

• My first boyfriend used to keep me waiting for hours sometimes when we were supposed to hang out. He would oversleep or forget, and just not show up. This was pre-cell phones. I’d just be sitting and waiting for hours, feeling alone and rejected and not good enough. (Everyone in my family has at some point forgotten about me in a public place–except my dad.)
• I did a lot of terrible things growing up that I’m not proud of. I consider myself to have been a bad person for most of my life. It’s why it’s so important to me to be good and do good now.
• I got to meet Jon Stewart.
• His parents giving me the photo lights was the first time adults ever encouraged me to do something I wanted to do. My parents used to scream at me to get off the computer when I was younger because it was too late. They never asked me why I was doing it. I think if they had encouraged me, I’d be at the top of the coding/web development industry. They rarely ever read anything I wrote unless I demanded them too.
• If I stayed in Baltimore after my school finished, I’d want to move in with him. (No, this does not mean that I want to or am ready to get married. Is that the normal thing to assume? It just means I want to feel safe at night.)

I don’t think he knows any of that stuff about me, but that stuff is important to how I am and who I want to be. It’s a waste to think you know someone, people change too quickly to really know someone. At the most, you can only want to know someone. And this isn’t just about me. I want to know more about him too, but he doesn’t share very often. And I try to be okay with that, but to some degree, it hurts. If he doesn’t let me in to his life–past and future–how am I supposed to interpret that?

I remember in high school how senior year there was all this turmoil and drama between couples as they were trying to figure whether to stay together at separate colleges, or through the summer, or just to get it over with now and breakup. I always thought it was silly, because I figured it was an easy answer. If the answer wasn’t yes, we’ll try to make this work, what else was there? Why stay together if both parties aren’t committed to at least trying to make it work out through difficult situations? There seems like so many more reasons for people, who might really love each other, not to stay together–location, money, career goals, families–and yet, it only takes one simple yes to make none of that other stuff matter. One simple yes of commitment, of stating, I don’t know if this will work, but I want it to work, I will do what I can to make it work. My concern is that three years and counting, we should both know whether there’s a plausible future or not. When I had past boyfriends, I got to the point where I knew whether I wanted it to work out or not. And if he doesn’t know that’s okay too. If he needs time to figure that out, that’s fine, he can make that choice. But I can make the choice to not be missing out on someone else who thinks I am more than good enough, while he decides. And he’s speculated that this isn’t how he thinks about things, and okay, fine, but I need him to explain to me how he does think about it/feel about it. Because again, if he’s not thinking about it at all–how am I supposed to interpret that? I’m sure he’s thought about his future as a musician after all.

I feel like if we keep going the way we’re going, I’m the only one with anything to lose. Shouldn’t I be the one to decide when to cut my losses? Unfortunately, there’s a strong disconnect between what I should do and what I want to do. I’m willing to be pushed one way or the other, but I don’t want to let things keep on the way they are with all these questions and confusions and no answers and no communication. It’s not that I’m not strong enough to make the right decision–it’s that I honestly don’t know what the right decision is. I know I’ve had these bad feelings before, and now looking back on things, I’m glad that I hadn’t ended it/messed it up. I just don’t know. It’s all complicated. And I just want it to be a simple yes or no.