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I'm feeling so much better and more active now that there's actually, finally, some warmth & sunshine & spring.

Even Ch.'s dreary birthday party (Sat.) was slightly less dreary than usual.
Sunday was a bit frustrating though, because I ended up wasting so much time, sitting in front of the computer, guiltily thinking I ought to do Russian homework, now, and putting it off & off & off, because I had some kind of complete mental do-not-want! block, which makes absolutely no sense, because it's not as if anyone is forcing me.

I've had a couple of discussions about this with M., and she's right, I do, in a way, chose the things I whine about having to do. But why does it feel like so much of my life is being forced to do something, instead of wanting to do it? Why does it feel like I don't have any control? I hate my brain, I really do.

Last Wednesday flickr guy said that one of his 'discoveries' was that he now follows his instincts more and doesn't weigh pros and cons and various considerations so much. The thing is, if I'd followed my instinct, I wouldn't have gone out with him. I felt guilty and obligated, that's why I did it. If I followed my instincts, I'd probably not talk to anyone ever again in my whole life. All right, exaggeration. Not more than once a week, at any rate.

It's not that I don't know that meeting other people can be inspirational, fun, good for me, etc., and so on. But I have to beat my instinct that tells me to just hide in my shell into submission every time, and every time it's a surprise when it turns out to be nice instead of awful. The expectation of awfulness and a lingering sense of do-not-want and when-can-I-be-alone-again? is almost always there. And it doesn't really get better with time. Summer 2007 was the last time I thought I could actually be someone different.



solitary summer

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January 2016


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