This, That, and So Much More

I just don’t even know what to write at the moment but I have to. I have to write. I have to tap out words and thoughts if only to hear that comforting clickety clack sound that is so soothing to the writer in me. I begin this post with no purpose and no direction...only a burn to write something anything nothing. So many things on my mind but it all seems so cloudy…so unsure. It was an emotional weekend, to say the least. All things important to me, from my work to my family to my romance feel like a roller coaster ride from which there is no escape.

I had a heart to heart with my boss on Friday in which we discussed my future and what I need to do to achieve my goals. Which perceptions I have about what I need to do to get there are on track and which are not. I get the feeling that he is behind me…that he supports me…but I’m still not sure he hears me. I still think he’s going to push me to reach for stars I have no interest in reaching for. I worry that I will disappoint him. But for the time being we are back on track. We are communicating and I have a renewed interest in what I need to accomplish in order to finish. Perhaps this is because he gave me some tangible goals…lit a fire under my butt as they say. I will admit…I’ve felt a bit like a fish out of water flippity flip flapping around wondering what this new substance filling my gills is. Water having been replaced by oxygen I have felt choked, trapped, fearful of the prospect of a life I have no interest in. I had withdrawn from the whole process. Ready to drop everything and move to Montana to work the night shift at Denny’s…unnoticed…unknown. But I steel myself for the long road ahead, for the doubts and insecurities inherent in pursuing any sort of higher education. A little bit creative…a little bit analytical…a whole lot neurotic…we scientists are a therapists wet dream.

And while we are on the topic of my neurotic state of being lets discuss the last few days.

It was my mothers’ birthday on Sunday. I called only to wish her a happy day and found myself dumping on her all the dark thoughts and feelings that have pre-occupied my mind these past couple of months. I asked her if she knew what borderline personality is. She did. I then asked her what she thought of a borderline diagnosis for my father. She agreed with me. She said she had considered the possibility herself. She asked me if I were OK. I was honest with her when I told her no. I am not OK. I am simply not. I am angry and I’ve been angry. I apologized to her for all of the things I have said and done over the years. For all the blame I placed on her for the situation. That, while I intellectually knew that she was doing for us the best that she thought she could…that I sometimes wished she had been more confident…more bold. I told her that I have been very mad at her for so many things that aren’t really her fault, but that I’m not anymore. I still have resentments, and when she told me she wished I’d had a better childhood I said I wished I’d simply been allowed to be a child. I never was and at almost 35 years of age I am tired. I am tired of being an adult. I don’t even know what it is like to be “care-free”. Does anyone? Do I mourn for a childhood that exists only in sentimental movies about little girls entering “best of show” contests while daddy cheers on from the sidelines? I don’t know…and it doesn’t really matter. This is my existence. This is my reality. This is me.

And people think its all about the boy…

And the boy…well…the boy figures into it, but not so much as one might expect. People ask me about it and I don’t know what to say. Surprisingly enough it is not the primary thing on my mind these days. I know he loves me. I know he cares about me. Yet…I really don’t know where the relationship is at. Some days it is good and I go to bed with a smile on my face and other days I crawl into bed wondering where we stand. Rarely can I actually say that he has done anything wrong. He has never been mean to me or ignored my feelings and emotions. He has addressed every concern I’ve ever had…even if his response was not the answer I was looking for. He’s communicated with me about his feelings and state of being…presumably to head off any feelings of insecurity. Yet, my instinct…the survival instinct that protects my heart as though it were made of fine spun glass says forget about him. Just walk. What if he’s lying to you? What if he’s playing you for a fool?

But I stand here hesitant to walk and I don’t know why. Where is the girl that normally runs for the hills at the first signs of doubt? Where is the girl who at the first sign that my heart may be broken or disappointment served for desert drops all pretense of faith and goes cold? So many times in the past I have become a statue as I turn my back, straighten my spine, and convince myself that this is not the one…that to proceed would be foolish and a waste of precious time…with no words in the English language able to bring the stone back to life…it’s over. This time however, I find myself entering therapy to try and figure out why I respond to things the way I do. I recognize the old emotional patterns, the negative thoughts and fears that have been creeping around the corners of my mind jumping out at me at the most unexpected and inopportune moments. To them I have turned statue so many times these past months, refusing to give into the paranoia and doubt. Sometimes…I simply cannot control the demons. And later…when the dust settles…I am at a loss.

I believe these demons are the remnants of being reared in the home of a man that can care for no one. By a man who never really saw me unless I was doing something wrong or falling short of perfection in my endeavors. Now I’m not sure what is good enough. When am I good enough? Where do I draw the line and say “good nuff”. So...never having received the kind of care and validation that is so important to a developing psyche from the most important man in my life I seek it from my romantic partnerships. Is William a bad boyfriend or am I needy and insecure? I don’t know, but hopefully therapy will provide some insight. Hopefully, if not for this relationship, then for the next, maybe I can relax and be confident that I am worthy of love without questioning every action or inaction…without needing so much validation that I am good.

And who knows…it might even help with some of these fears I have every time I have to design a new experiment, or embark upon a new friendship, or sit down to write a paper for publication.

And I thought I didn’t know what to write…