I am crazy and obsessive. I know this. But I am at a loss of how to control it. I know that if I ignore my feelings that it will manifest in other ways, if they don’t grow exponentially and I emotionally explode. But I can’t really deal with this particular issue when it involves my possessiveness over my friends. It’s unfair.

I introduced one group of friends to others and I’m pretty certain they’ve bonded over VERY similar interests and I am out. Two fucking weekends where they plan shit when I’m busy; quite possibly three but one I think is under wraps. Because whenever I brought it up they gave short answers. Anyway… I get how insane I sound. I do. I wish I could just throw all these feelings away but I cannot. I just can’t.

All I do want to do is fade away, just disconnect from the world and live in my own for a little while.

“When you love something you have to let it go.”

I’ve heard it said that our dreams show us who we truly are, or our hearts desire, or its just nonsensical gobbledee goop that makes no sense and is cause by whatever one happened to snack on before going to bed. Either way, as of late, my dreams have been very vivid and by far haunting.  

The one that hit really close to home was one where I was in this professional reading group and we had taken commune in a meeting room around a cherry table. Every person around this oblong oval had a stack of manuscripts in front of him. The first one they happen to read is mine. The leader of the group, this young, thin, boy, opens up my novel and begins to read out loud. He gets two paragraphs in and shouts “garbage!” and chucks it into a metal trash bin. I sit there astounded as he says, “onto the next.” 

I woke up in a panic from this dream. Like I said, it hit dangerously close to home because I already think of my novel as worthless fluff.  I have no confidence in my writing. And any that I may drudge up from the pit of my guts is immediately incinerated because somewhere in my life I was taught that any form of self confidence, no matter how small, is borderline vanity. Oh well. As long as it doesn’t keep me from writing.  

My dream from last night has got to be the best. It had moments of panic and shame but overall it was good. I was the star of a touring Broadway musical. It was fantastic. I wish I could remember the whole thing. I just remember it being about a guy that goes to war and then travels the world trying to find himself and expressing his journey in song. It was titled “gypsy…” every time I looked at the title in my dream the last few words were blurred and I never knew. I just remember thinking, in dream, I need to remember this title so I can buy the album when I wake up.  

Sing a couple songs at karaoke and all of a sudden I think I’m hot shit.  

Again… Pride. Arrogance. I’m not allowed to think anything good about myself. 

Oh well.

Today has been a strange one… With my decision to write something everyday, no matter the topic, I have remained hyper aware of what is happening around and within me. I want something blog worthy. Although these past few days things have transitioned and change so much that it hasn’t been very much of a struggle. It sounds like I’m complaining but I’m not.

I was informed by my mother that my cousin does indeed have colon cancer. There is going to be a long journey ahead and I don’t rightly know if she is up for the challenge. It’s strange to think that the past four years her mother defied death and the constant threat of her cancer. When she finally passed my cousin lorries was with her. And it would appear that date has passed that burden from her mother to her. I don’t rightly know how to respond to this news. On one hand I am terrified and want to cry, but in the other there is nothing I can do to change anything. I’m basically at a loss for words. So I suppose that is all I have to say.

The topic I had intended to write about was my novel. But even now… It pales in comparison to the other. I can’t even bring myself to discussing the topic. So I shall end it here and leave that topic for another day when I have nothing to write about.

My day began with panic. The night prior I slept from 8 in the evening until 8:45 the next morning all because of my panic about my job. Today I got relief. My boss sent me my yearly review and I got primarily “meets expectations.” And I thought to myself “one doesn’t get fired of they’re fulfilling their expected duties.” So the worry flowed out of my system and I felt better.

Quickly following that was my lunch date with my friend from my 12-step group. After missing him at his last local meeting I inquired to maybe having a midweek meet up and he agreed. It was bitter sweet. It’s strange. I never realized how much he meant to me. Thinking about him no longer attending meetings makes my heart ache and I feel a sense of loneliness. For some strange reason I found a kinship in him. I truly look up to him.

He have me some truly encouraging words at our lunch and I wish I could have done the same. It was at that moment when I realized I really do live in my head. I can pour my heart onto a page (digital or paper) and say exactly what is in my heart. Put the person in front of me and I am at a loss for words.

I thought about that the rest of the day and tried to figure out why I am such a person. I, unlike my friend, am able to put my emotions into words. And I arrived at the conclusion that it’s because I fear rejection. If I put it in words to be read I don’t have to watch that person process them as they come out of my mouth; not to forgett words are better after being processed as opposed to fresh off the vine.

I think I will write him a Facebook message explaining. I am certain he will understand.