Namesakes in laundry baskets
Butter and salt
Love stories walking through
movies in my mind
I have a name for myself
that flies through air like wind
Who I want to be
and who I've always been
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Remember
I am a rememberer. I remember everything, but looking back and thinking I realize that I don't remember a lot about myself. I remember things I've done and things people have done around me, but I have a hard time remembering how I felt, what I was going through, how I handled it, what I said, what I thought, what I hashed out with myself. These things just become a part of who I am and I succumb to them. It's like not focusing on your next to smallest left toe. I would notice if it was gone, but if you asked me about it I would probably have to look at it in order to describe it. That is why I get this irrational fear of not writing down things that are going on in my life. Sure I obviously only need to write about it once every two months or so (which is why I have only completed two journals in the span of 9 years), but lately I've been feeling this pressure to document my listless misery of this past semester. It has been one of the hardest, depressing assemblage of months I have ever experienced. I keep thinking if I don't write it down it won't have happened. I'll move on, I'll forgive, I'll forget, I won't remember because it would be beneficial to me.
Which brings me to another problem of mine. I have a hard time doing things for myself. Every part of me screams, "I don't have needs!!!" I went to St. Bartholomew's Episcopal church with my friends, not the first time, a few months back and a lady at the door greeted me. She mentioned she had never seen me before and when I mentioned I was visiting with a friend she offered me a loaf of bread that they make for visiters. Before I could even process what she had told me, my mouth was saying, "Oh! No. No, thank you!" and I was backing awkwardly away. My whole body language screamed, "I don't need help, I don't need bread, I don't have needs, I don't have needs, I don't have needs." And I don't. I don't need to eat when I'm on the job until I'm passing out. I don't need time to myself when I'm offered another last minute babysitting job or am asked if I can take another phone intake. I don't need to sleep before I spend a full day working tomorrow. You need to talk to me. You need me to watch your children. You need me to do an intake. You need me to soothe your fears and say wise words. But I do not need you, because if I did, then it might all fall apart. I would not longer be the goddess of wisdom. I would no longer be the champion of unorganized souls. I would no longer be me, and I would be unable to function without you. But I already cannot function without you. Without you I am not needed, and I do not exist.
I admit it. I cannot take, because when I do I cannot stop. I cannot take, because I feel like a fool who cannot care for herself. I cannot take, because then you will be in control of me, when I am in control of my needs, so much so that they do not exist. Maybe this is why pride is a sin. My perfection puts a wall between me and others that says, I am above the relationship. We are meant to need each other, not in a burdensome way, but in a caring way. Even taking is a service. It teaches others to be humble.
Which brings me to another problem of mine. I have a hard time doing things for myself. Every part of me screams, "I don't have needs!!!" I went to St. Bartholomew's Episcopal church with my friends, not the first time, a few months back and a lady at the door greeted me. She mentioned she had never seen me before and when I mentioned I was visiting with a friend she offered me a loaf of bread that they make for visiters. Before I could even process what she had told me, my mouth was saying, "Oh! No. No, thank you!" and I was backing awkwardly away. My whole body language screamed, "I don't need help, I don't need bread, I don't have needs, I don't have needs, I don't have needs." And I don't. I don't need to eat when I'm on the job until I'm passing out. I don't need time to myself when I'm offered another last minute babysitting job or am asked if I can take another phone intake. I don't need to sleep before I spend a full day working tomorrow. You need to talk to me. You need me to watch your children. You need me to do an intake. You need me to soothe your fears and say wise words. But I do not need you, because if I did, then it might all fall apart. I would not longer be the goddess of wisdom. I would no longer be the champion of unorganized souls. I would no longer be me, and I would be unable to function without you. But I already cannot function without you. Without you I am not needed, and I do not exist.
I admit it. I cannot take, because when I do I cannot stop. I cannot take, because I feel like a fool who cannot care for herself. I cannot take, because then you will be in control of me, when I am in control of my needs, so much so that they do not exist. Maybe this is why pride is a sin. My perfection puts a wall between me and others that says, I am above the relationship. We are meant to need each other, not in a burdensome way, but in a caring way. Even taking is a service. It teaches others to be humble.
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