The spring is sprung, the grass is riz.
I wonder where the boidie is.
They say the boidie’s on the wing.
But that’s absoid. The wing is on the bird.
anonymous
That Anonymous guy sure writes a lot of stuff. Too bad we don’t know who he is.
I guess we’ll never know.
Another day, another bout of waking up feeling terrible. Got no idea what to write about but that’s never stopped me before.
I suppose I could resume talking about being too adaptable. I kind of went off on a long, long tangent when I tried talking about it yesterday.
A long tangent, but a fruitful one. Got some deep and dirty stuff expressed. That’s bound to be helpful in the long run.
But yeah. I’m too adaptable. Too likely to try to shapeshift my way out of a problem rather than buckling down and facing the damn thing head to head.
And all because adapting is easier. And not just in term of being less effort. It’s easier in that it involve less concentration, less ambition, less focus, less drive, and most importantly of all, less courage.
Also even darker things, like less having to be a real person, less treating myself like I matter, and less having to deal with how badly life has treated me.
But that’s what happens when you don’t stick up for yourself. Life walks all over you.
One of the hidden rules of life on Earth is that you have to put out certain low-level aggressive signals that tell the world “hey, don’t fuck with me” just to avoid abuse. At the very least, you have to be able to convince the two legged predators of the world that you are not one of the sick and scraggly sheep lagging behind the others and they should look elsewhere for easy prey.
And in a less sinister vein, even non-predatory people can end up harming you because they expect people to set and express boundaries that tell them how far they can go and they find these boundaries by testing them.
When you fail to put up those boundaries, they push harder, trying to find them. This works with most people, so it’s not like they are being mean to you.
They just don’t know how to deal with someone as broken as you are.
Take myself, for example. Please. I have no idea how to set boundaries and express them in a positive way. I have boundaries and limitations and things I just won’t do, but I don’t convey them except by, on a good day, raising the alarm when they are violated.
And that’s not good enough. It forces people who love me and don’t want to hurt me to walk on eggshells around me because they literally don’t know what will set me off.
So I want to learn this whole boundary setting thing. But it’s very hard to do when you are so unused to it and didn’t learn it socially as a child like a normal kid does.
And I don’t want to end up hurting the people I love. So it’s slow going.
But I will get there somehow.
And that will go a long long way towards making me feel safe.
More after the break.
I did the thing
A thing needed to be done, and I did it. Twice, in fact.
Specifically, I tackled the huge amount of garbage piled up all over everything in the kitchen. Threw out two big garbage bags’ worth of stuff and managed to, at long last. prove definitively that there is,. indeed, a counter under there.
This counter is quite filthy at the moment and I would rather not be the one who cleans it because. at this point, there’s so much random crap stuck to the counter that getting rid of it will probably take a chisel or possibly a sand blaster.
But I did the thing. I got things moving. I stepped up to be the spark plug that gets things moving despite all the accumulated stasis and neglect. I invested my own energy in making things better instead of waiting for someone else to do it.
And I plan to do much more to clean this damned place up. There is more garbage to be bagged, included a massive pile of chip bags and other snack bags that. as it turns out,. are in theory, recyclable but need to be washed first, and well that shit’s not gonna happen, so they accumulated.
Pretty soon I am going to say to hell with moth nature and throw them out.
It’s not like anyone is going to feel like washing them all.
And once they are gone, we can start over. Keeping up with the recycling is not that hard. Washing a chip bag or two before setting them aside for future recycling is no big deal and as long as we keep up, it never will be a big deal.
Most of said bags come from me and my purchases, so I will take it upon myself to wash them out when I am done with them.
A quick hot rinse should suffice, I would think. The inside of the bags is slick for obvious reasons, and thus should be quite easy to clean.
And none of this “letting the garbage can under the sink get full to the point it’s overflowing and thus hard to empty” nonsense, either. .
Fill it, tie it, toss it, replace the bag, that’s it, done. If it has to be me that does it, so be it.
What happened today was that I finally got sick enough of the mess that I stopped worrying about hurting Joe’s feelings via the criticism implied by my doing them of his NOT doing these things.
He’ll live. He even thanked me for doing it. So…. so there.
From now on, when something about my environment bothers me, and I have the ability to change or fix it, I shall do so.
Might seem obvious to others but to chronically passive me, it’s a revelation.
Which is sad.
But at least I’m getting better!
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.