Voices in My Head

WELL?

well what?

DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? AS TO WHY YOU HAVEN'T BEEN POSTING? IT'S BEEN A MONTH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. YOU POST THIS ENTRY WHERE YOU SAY YOU'RE ATTEMPTING TO STAY SANE, AND THEN YOU DISAPPEAR?

i know, i know.

THAT'S JUST LIKE YOU. YOU'RE REALLY GOOD AT STARTING PROJECTS AND NOT FINISHING THEM. COLLEGE. YOUR SCRAPBOOK. YOUR NOVEL. CLEANING HOUSE. YOUR LACK OF RESPONSIBILITY AMAZES ME SOMETIMES.

gee, thanks for your support.

SO, ARE YOU GOING TO TELL YOUR READERS WHAT YOU'VE BEEN DOING FOR THE PAST MONTH? IF YOU HAVE ANY READERS LEFT, THAT IS.

i have readers. geekman emailed me today, wondering when i was going to post again.

WHOOPEE. ONE READER. YOU'RE BURNING UP THE INTERNET.

my parents read. my sister reads. zappagirl and rosencrantz and paisley read me too.

FAMILY. FRIENDS. YOU KNOW, IF YOU'D ACTUALLY PUT YOUR MIND TO IT, YOU COULD HAVE LOTS MORE READERS. BUT THAT WOULD MEAN YOU'D HAVE TO PUT FORTH AN EFFORT, AND GOD FORBID YOU SHOULD DO SOMETHING THAT DRASTIC. SO OUT WITH IT. WHAT'S BEEN SO DAMN IMPORTANT THAT YOU'VE NOT BEEN POSTING?

well, like i said in my last post...

ONE MONTH AGO...

...yes, one month ago. i've been going through some rough times. it's not been happy fun time in myo-land.

OH BOY, HERE WE GO AGAIN. MY LIFE SUCKS, POOR LITTLE ME, BOO HOO HOO. YOU WHINE A LOT ABOUT NOTHING.

may i continue?

OH, SO SORRY. DIDN'T MEAN TO INTERRUPT YOUR PITY PARTY.

so i've been trying to get my life back together. to figure out what's wrong in my life.

AND? WHAT, PRAY TELL, IS MAKING YOUR LIFE SO HORRIBLE?

well, you, for starters.

PARDON ME?

you. the critical voice in my head. the voice that tells me that nothing i do is good enough, that everything i do is wrong, that i'm substandard.

YOU'RE DELUDED.

no, i'm not. you've been telling me all of this for years, as far back as i can remember. you told me i was lazy, uncoordinated, stupid, ugly. you told that i've wasted all my potential, blown every chance that was given to me. you've made me feel like something is wrong with me because i'm not married with three kids and a house in the suburbs, because i've never wanted these things. you've made me feel like a failure because with my intelligence i should be doing something more substancial than an entry level corporate position. you've made me feel ashamed of myself because i have financial problems. you've made me feel worthless because i'm over thirty and still single and can count the good relationships i've had with the opposite sex on one hand. and somehow you managed to convince me that i should keep all of this to myself, because no one would really care all that much about my insecurities.

AND WHY SHOULD THEY? EVERYONE'S INSECURE, EVERYONE HAS THEIR OWN PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH. AND YOU THINK YOU'RE SO SPECIAL THAT EVERYONE SHOULD STOP WHAT THEY'RE DOING AND FIX YOUR PROBLEMS? HOW OLD ARE YOU? FIVE? SHOULDN'T YOU BE ABLE TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AT THIS POINT?

i am.

HA. AND HOW ARE YOU GOING ABOUT THIS?

well, for one, i'm not listening to you anymore. i'm not believing what you tell me. you've been screaming at me through a bullhorn for most of my life telling me what a worthless piece of crap i am, using every failure in my life as proof to back up your arguement, and i'm personally getting tired of getting kicked in the head, so to speak. i've been concentrating on standing up for myself, treating myself better. and guess what? i'm starting to eat and sleep like a semi-normal person for the first time in years. i'm not homefree yet, but at least i have some idea of where i'm going.

BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. AND THIS HAS WHAT TO DO WITH WHY YOU HAVEN'T POSTED?

well, a lot of it was that i didn't want to continue to post about how crappy my life has been every day whiule all this was going on. it would be like reading the complete collection of lyrics from the Smiths. and part of it is because i've been hanging out with zappagirl doing other non-computer related stuff.

WATCHING TV, IN OTHER WORDS.

well, yes. and reading. trying to let my brain destress after mentally beating myself up for thirty or so years. and other things too. zappagirl decided i needed a project, so she bought me a latch hook kit, and i worked on that for a while.

AH, LATCH HOOK. HOW 70'S. THE ARTS & CRAFTS PROJECT FOR UNARTISTIC PEOPLE.

shut up.

WHAT DID YOU SAY?

you heard me; shut up. i've been writing a lot as well, but it's not exactly been postable stuff. it's been more like therapeutic letters that i never intend to send.

AWWW. DID SOMEONE HURT WITTLE BABY MYO'S FEELINGS?

shut up. yes, there are people in my life that have done and said things to me that really hurt me, and i've let their actions go by without a mention because i considered them my friends. actually, i take back that "never intend to send" part. there's one letter i keep rewriting over and over, and there's a pretty good chance i may actually send that one, because i don't think that person is even aware of how much he's upset me. i've been trying to be more honest about my feelings lately. the positive side is easy. although i don't think hallmark makes enough cards to convey how thankful i am that zappagirl and rosencrantz and roger mexico have been there for me during all this. i want to throw them all a party or something.

but confronting the negative...that's been a little bit tougher. part of me doesn't want to tell him how i feel because i could end up losing his friendship over it. not that he's really been much of a friend to me lately. at first i thought he was keeping his distance because he was uncomfortable with me being slightly insane, but now i'm not so sure. he's said some really hurtful things to me, and doesn't seem to have much consideration for my feelings, and i don't seem to be all that high on his list of priorities.

BECAUSE THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND YOU, RIGHT?

no. i don't expect to be the center of his universe, but a little common courtesy would be nice. and lately i've not seen a whole helluva a lot of it from him. is it too much to ask for a little moral support from a friend? apparently he's too busy to return my phone calls. or answer my emails. but that's a whole 'nother story. i'll take this up with him later. i can't keep carrying around all this resentment. i'm going to pop a blood vessel in my head.

look, i'm tired. i want to go eat something, maybe drink a beer or two, and watch South Park. can i write some more later? about something happier, maybe? something that doesn't sound like a therapy exercise?

YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO DO. BUT I'M NOT HOLDING MY BREATH ON THAT WHOLE "WRITE MORE LATER" THING.

oh yeah? watch me.