Life feels to me as though it tries to lour me into a false sense of hope and happiness. Every time life, my experiences and my interpersonal interactions feel on the verge of becoming pleasant and meaningful a small micro-disaster, a personal nuclear holocaust, comes along and destroy everything and burns me a little.
Over the years and years that have passed more and more burns have accumulated more and more scar and less and less healing. I feel sore and tired.
I have always been very hard on myself. It is only recent, and through a lot of therapy and work on myself that I have softened up a bit. I am also not a person to blame people or things for what happens to me. I am quick to take up personal responsibility, which has two effects. It make me feel bad, reflect, and try and improve on myself, and logically, prevents me from lashing out and remaining static by virtue of external blame.
The act of forgiving myself for some, if not all, of the disasters that have happened to me over the course of my life is a difficult task I wish to undertake. Initially I should list the things, shnat, friend issues, interpersonal issues, family issues, etc, in detail, and then try and work out how to accept them as and notice them without judgement or blame.
The feeling I hold onto is mainly guilt. I feel no anger. About certain things I am sad, mostly failed interpersonal relationships. I don’t feel that I have many grudges. There is only one person that I still harbour active negative feelings towards.
Forgiveness is about deciding what, of the things that I have taken on as my responsibility, is my fault. To try and deal with the outcomes and to define and end point in each case and accept when I have reached it
Forgiveness be mine
I have a friend that I grew up with from about age 12. Over the past 5 years or so, for no specific reason, we drifted a part. This vacation I am trying to spend more time with him because he is a decent guy and a good friend.
Last night I arrived at his house at around 10. We then went to go collect one of my x-girlfriends that he was planning on picking up. His family was away so he, his cousin, his 15 year old sister, my x and I sat in his lounge smoking nag. This was not how I had imagined it.
Initially my friend and I spoke while his sister and my x-spoke, then seating arrangement change and I wound up next to his sister…
His sister is an incredibly human being. When she was 10, 2 years after she learned how to read, she read lord of the rings. She is observant, warm, superhypermegaintelligent, fun, understanding and generally amazing.
At one point she and I were left at the house. My friend had gone to take my x home and his cousin was showering. We sad having one of the most warm, affirming conversations that I have ever had.
The main issues standing in my way from living happily ever after with her include, but are not limited to: Her age.
The situation is partially problematic. I am fairly confident that I would not make a move on her. She is just too young. She’s 7 years younger than me. 7 years. That’s a lot. Besides that she’s great… oh well.
I would like to define leading on as “actions performed by one party which cause the other party to erroneously believe that the first party is interested in having sexual relations with them”
Today I feel sad. Somebody who I cared about is not longer a part of my life. My hand has been forced by miscommunication and the reality of pain to come if I keep throwing my time, effort and money into moving a mountain.
For weeks, maybe months, I have been investing this effort into a girl I like(d). She seemed to be growing to like me. As time progressed we spent more and more time hugging, holding hands, playing with each others hands & lying together. We never kissed and she said she just wanted to be friends.
What I understood from being told that she felt that we should just be friend and the overt physically warm signs were that there was something holding her back, maybe uncertainty or issues with friends of hers.
After lying in bed with her last night, in the dark, talking about intimate things, holding each other, for 2 hours, and me almost sleeping over in bed with her, she ask if I could sleep somewhere else. I ask again if I could kiss her which precipitated the conversation which led me to where I am now.
She felt that we were behaving in a way which is appropriate for just being friends. That lying in bed together, holding hands, hugging a lot, etc was perfectly normal in terms of friendship.
For me those very things are the core of intimacy which is something I crave and miss. After each encounter with her I was left thinking about her and missing her more than before.
I am very grateful for her honesty, which is not something she normally does. We had an honest conversation and I have no doubt in my mind that no matter how or what I say or do I will never get anything more from her than false hopes and shattered dreams.
Last night the girl and like and I met up again. We watched Simpson’s. The night ended with us lying together, her head on my shoulder and her smell permeating my brain. I still wasn’t allowed to kiss her, but it felt good.
Where things are going I don’t know. I wish I did and I wish it was somewhere good.
For the last 48 hours I have been waiting for the girl that I gave an amazing birthday present to contact me; to thank me, to say fuck you, to say hi, to wish me good bye, anything. I believe that I will probably continue waiting indefinitely
I have been feeling very anxious because I have been waiting and anticipating what’s to come, if anything. I’ve been trying to deal with the feelings of inadequacy, hurt, betrayal and loneliness as they grow within me.
I have been trying to move on and to distract myself from it.
I’m sore, tired and cold.
“Treat other as you want to be treated”
Throughout my life I have always given a great deal of myself, in effort, care and love to others in the hopes that they would return the favour.
Historically, for me, I have seen that people do not want these things and, in return for great deals of care and effort the people who you love, care for, and give of yourself to, will wind up using and abusing me until they are done, and then throw me away without a care in the world.
I find it hard to give up on the notion of living ideally, for in doing so I feel that I would give up all hope of finding a better place where people care for one another
My registrar and I were sitting at the desk in the centre of casualty talking the usual crap that we love, when we looked up. He understood immediately, but it took me just a fraction of second to work it out. We laughed long, loud and hard. For reasons beyond my comprehension the woman in the bed across from us had gotten off the bed, and with the physical support of her husband was squatting over a blanket on the floor and urinating. Only gods know why she didn’t ask for a bed pan.
About 10 minutes later a psychotic gentleman in the bed behind us stood up on his bed causing me to call for help. He then announced to the world in a loud, clear and completely insane voice that he needed the toilet, and then emptied his bladder all over himself and the bed.
Half an hour later, after a short of valium, he was walking around the ward talking to himself with urine flowing out of his penis.
I was examining a middle aged gentleman with a stroke when the guy behind us started making huge amounts of noise. The guy was thrashing around in an illogical way and was only slightly responsive to stimuli. I convinced a casualty doctor to see him who did a PR exam and decided the man was very constipated. He was given a fleet enema which made him take what was probably the largest crap of his life. Once again, for reasons beyond my understanding, while I was presenting my stroke case to my registrar the now unconstipated man kicked the bed pan off his bed spraying shit, mucus and blood everywhere.
Much later on in the night a man came in who was shot in the head. After stabilising him, intubating him, resuscitating him and bandaging his head up a disaster happened. I was walking around the casualty department trying to find a patient who had gone missing. I looked into the resus room and found that the GSW patient had taken a huge shit and then wiped out of the bed onto his face. The medazalan must have worn of and he moved causing him to fall flat on his face. I shat while he was falling and again on the floor. He hurt his nose, but compared to the gun shot wound he had sustained he wasn’t hurt.
