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17 October 2010 @ 05:32 am
 
I'm in That Place again. I feel like a disappointment for how I am dealing - and not dealing - with everything.

Dissertation. Writing. University work. Societies. Household. Responsibilities. Promises. Time. Friendship. Distance.

I'm overwhelmed by my previous abilities with all of them compared to what I am giving (feel able to give) right now. Through the second half of the summer, too.

I spend a lot of minutes in my days happy--or at least, distracted and not down. I wonder: is that happiness? It doesn't feel like it.

Because as soon as I think of my writing or dissertation or university work, my stomach clenches into this tight ball. It's a feeling of guilt and inadequacy and broken expectations and fear and sadness.

When I was a little girl and I had upset my family or teacher or (few) friends in some way, and all they wanted to do was forgive me and hug it away, I used to put myself in solitude and stare at the wall. I would get this feeling in my stomach and I would hate it because it made me want to go fix things because I should be fixing things but I didn't feel ready to fix things, yet I wanted it all done. I pictured these people I loved loving me, even though I was broken and wrong: it wasn't right to love me when I was so wrong; their love collected in a ball and made me feel guilty for how I was. I used to visualise this mighty sword. I closed my eyes real tight and saw the ball from every angle, then I'd stab the sword through my stomach and wiggle it around until all these feelings of inadequacy and 'potential' (asldkfjalf potential) and expectations and not meeting ideas but being loved anyway when I didn't feel I deserved it (couldn't they just hate me?) were gone--little strips of nothing, all broken up like me, the love broken up like me. Sometimes I would cry after, but usually I would picture myself removing the sword, wiping it on my leg and sheathing it for another day. I would stare at people and try to pierce them, see where their ball was and what they did with it.

The ball is back. I don't want the sword. I want to accept the love, not cut it - no matter how undeserved I feel it may be. I want to unravel the wrapped-up negative feelings until they're gone.

I want to use serenity, not steel. Even if it takes longer. I want it to last. I can't afford to cut up the love, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me sometimes; I can't afford to cut up the love I give out with it. I don't want to be untouchable.