| trephining |
[01 Dec 2004|06:18pm] |
It still astounds me how many things I can feel at once, and yet how emotionally constipated I can remain through all the sensations at times.
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This afternoon, I wanted to flip somebody a very naughty gesture. Actually, I wanted too see blood, I wanted to hear pleads amongst gasps for air, I wanted someone to know under no uncertain terms that what they said hurt, and thus, my mercy was needed for life to proceed as normal.
It's no secret that I'm one sick puppy. And honestly, I don't care if people know that. I got a exam back today, not horrid by any means, but still reflective of some of the struggles I've been experiencing over the semester. I briefly discussed this with the prof, to whom a mutual trust and respect exists. A classmate, who's also aware that I struggle chronic health issues, obviously eavesdropping, asked if this health stuff would make it impossible for me to get pregnant or have kids.
I respond with a polite and meek, "Well, I'm not sure..." And I'm thinking..."Who the fuck do you think you are?!?" I mean really. Liam and my doctors: definitely privy to that kind of stuff. Close friends: if discussing concerns are cathartic, empathetic, or somehow beneficial to the relationship, all right.
But who the hell asks stuff like that, anyways? Am weird for categorizing different health maladies in "discuss" and "don't discuss" groups, and expect people to be sensitive to seemingly obvious boundaries? I mean, am I overly private for thinking that stuff like cuts, scrapes, fatigues, colds, broken bones, maybe circulation issues and common indisposal bits are fair game, but questions about digestive or reproductive plumbing, hairy moles, weird discharges, and displaced birthmarks are best left to professionals, trusted friends, and potential bed buddies?
And in addition to that, how did the classmate think they'd deal with the response? I'm so in love with my kids already, how can they grasp my agony of potentially never knowing them... or my infinite delight is the possibility that I will... or all the intricacies of what all of this means to me?
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It seems like I'm sinking into mediocrity, how I feel like everybody's favorite dumbass, and how confused I am around all these inarguably academically-minded and successful people. Yet people whom are held in high esteem gravitate towards, even value and cherish me. Profs want me to work for them and single me out for special attention. Classmates want to work with me in groups. In less than six months, I'm marrying quite the alpha male. Everyone knows my name.
I've discussed this with a few people, and have gotten a variety of different responses. Mostly, I'm allegedly bright but burnt out, with worries about sickness and plannings of wedding stuff on my mind. Nineteen and a senior in college, far from average. Thoughtful and bursting with ideas, just in light of learning preferences and personal issues, unable to regurgitate and repackage squeaky-clean answers for exams. Far from average. As for the buffoonery, silliness that reflects on a creative, deliberative, and uninhibited mind, and in essence, brings a bit of meaning to every room I walk into. More than just wittiness... integrity... and well integrated with my personal observations, thoughts, and maturity. Even in light of non "Em-esque" performances, for whatever reason, there's still depth that people can appreciate. Or something.
The other day, I asked Liam if he'd be cool with me possibly never going to grad school, getting a non-egghead job that I just enjoyed, and shooting from there. He said of course. I pointed out that this might present potential strain, being surrounded by an academic environment, with many titled friends and cohorts, and having a wife with more ambiguous accolades. Yes, I'm still very much appreciated, respected, and loved. Tina said today that I'd probably fit in anyways, and still be far from mediocre.
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Thanksgiving break... good times... a good amount of snugglage and laughs... and Jeremy seriously does the best turkey...
I feel strikingly comfortably in the presence of the in-laws. Even the dog, which is generally borderline absurd for me. Liam and I got our fill of us time, but there were also cool, well, "family" moments with all of us -- playing with Conan, talking over dinner, watching movies, etc.
I used to be so nervous about what they might think of me, which now seems utterly preposterous. They highly approve of/accept/love me. Period.
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I just wish I knew why. Why love, why hate... Every human emotion feel so imminent, and I feel so naked and insecure.
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