(no subject)

Ouch. Ouch. Sore throat. I sort of hoped I was wrong about it yesterday evening, but apparently not. I don't want to be sick now, with a three day weekend approaching.. ::whine::


My body doesn't usually do this kind of thing, but for once I'm almost tempted to believe that this might be a reaction to the emotional/psychological turmoil of the last two days. I came out of this weekend so happy, satisfied at having roused myself to accomplish something; the contrast made the usual work day a lot bleaker, more mind-numbingly tedious and generally intolerable than I usually feel it is.

At one point I caught myself thinking, and this is what I've become, this is what I was telling myself to learn to be content with? This isn't who I am, this tired, resigned person, standing there eight hours a day, smiling at customers, then escaping home to the fantasy worlds of dvds and books. This isn't me.

[Yes, I'm perfectly aware how utterly, pathetically clicheed that sounds, written down. It felt different, rather more genuine and important.]

Maybe I'm regressing, or having some pre-midlife crisis, or maybe it's spring in the air that makes me itchy and dissatisfied, not wanting to be responsible and mature and realistic and whatnot. Or maybe I had a moment of clarity there.

Yesterday was hell, at least the greater part of the day. Caught between wanting to scream and wanting to cry, rage and claustrophobia, minutes ticking by infinitely slowly.


It comes down to this, I think. I have buried this so deep inside I almost lost it, maybe made myself forget it, but I am only truly happy creating something. That has always come first, the academic aspect of my life came later, and while even in retrospect I don't really regret it, because it has shaped my personality in ways I wouldn't want to miss, the conflict has always been there - I'm assuming a couple of years ago I just became tired of the eternal, futile struggle that got me nowhere.

Giving up the diss... I guess it hurt my self-respect in some ways, but it made me feel like a failure mostly in respect of other people's expectations. My professor's, and, I assume, implicitly my parents', even if they never said anything. Giving up ceramics, any aspirations/pretentions to art, to creating anything, is the real festering wound, something that has a deeper impact on my personality, is linked to it more closely, although I can't quite figure out in what way exactly, or am not any closer to finding a solution and escaping the incapacitating fears and the mental deadlock I've reasoned myself into.

The greatest part of whatever satisfaction I derive from work at the moment is connected to all the major flaws in my personality; my sense of wanting to please people, my inherent perfectionism: it's a safe, more or less controllable environment; there is only so much I can do wrong there, after all.


The problem is, what to do about it now. Whether I'll find the strength and will to do something about it. How to find the person I used to be and who (I hope) still exists somewhere, more than just a lingering echo. During the last two or three years I've so talked myself out of believing I'm able to create, that there's anything within me worth expressing at all, I'm not sure at all I'll be able to (go back? go forward?) and be that person again.

I may dull my mind, myself, enough to make what I do now tolerable again; I could probably even find some kind of balance, perhaps peace. Isn't Buddhism all about not wanting things, because wanting is the cause of pain?


But still. This is who I am. Some things, apparently, do not change.

(no subject)

I give up. I give up. Every time I think I've gained some kind of perspective, a glimpse of something to maybe hold on to, whoops, and instantly there's the slide back into apathy and insecurity where it seems impossible to reach for anything at all.


Also, I'm feeling sick without even the excuse of a little fever, just a sore throat, and feeling very, very tired & generally rather like I've been run over by something large & heavy. Gah.