Thursday, May 19, 2005
cliches and small observances
I’m so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
cause your presence still lingers here
And it won’t leave me alone
These wounds won’t seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There’s just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears
When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears
I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me
You used to captivate me
By your resonating life
Now I’m bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me
These wounds won’t seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There’s just too much that time cannot erase
I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone
But though you’re still with me
I’ve been alone all along.
-Evanescence - My Immortal
I suppose my life has become something of a cliche. That was bound to happen at some point. I used to always tell myself that if my life started to make sense when Amy Lee sang it, I should start to worry. But for the moment I will just enjoy the truth in these words. Someone else gets me, even if it is a crazy neo-goth chick with a killer voice. In other news, I find Miss Lee to be rather beautiful, in a dark and edgy kind of way, which is just the way I like it. She tries perhaps a little too hard at times, but I let it slide because she definitely has the talent to back it up. Plus, who can argue with a girl who looks that good in a corset?
Unfortunately, I don't really think my problem is that I can't be bothered to just snap out of it and fix things for myself. I already did that. I have created this situation for myself, and I still honestly believe it to be better than the alternative. But now I have to go about living with the consequences of my decision.
Even the strongest among us get tired of fighting after a while. And if they're like me then they have a good cry and feel miserable, and then they have some cinnamon toast, and then they get up the next morning and go to a staff meeting, and feel slightly cheered up while picking out picture books about wombats for their little cousins.
In fact, that is exactly what I did. (My favourite wombat book is called Sometimes I Like to Curl up in a Ball. Every time I scan it I mutter "so do I...") I have no plans to cut myself off from life. I have no plans to say, quit my job, or not go to my grad, or not go out with the friends I still have, or anything like that. But it is helpful for everyone to try to understand just how difficult it is for me now to psyche myself up to do these things. Once I'm there I'm usually okay. It is the getting up and getting out the door that really hurts. It is the slow moments in the conversation, and the point at which anything else gets depressing that makes me tremendously depressed.
Everything is just that much more difficult, and it's not as though I'm not trying to interest myself in it, it's more that everything feels a little bit more empty these days. Take food, for instance. I used to love it, but now it all kind of tastes like dust. I no longer have any desire to eat until I feel full. As long as I don't have that horrible empty feeling in my stomach, I basically don't eat. Is this bad for me? Answers may vary. I'm the skinniest I have been since I was 15, but I wasn't terribly skinny then, and I'm not terribly skinny now. I'll worry when my BMI dips below 18.5. Right now it sits quite pretty at 20.82. Plus I like myself at this size on an esthetic level. Clothes look better on me, and shopping is decidedly more fun. I'm not opposed to that at all. And I'm not feeling lightheaded or lacking in energy or anything like that. So no worrying allowed!
I found out after the meeting this morning that Julie is leaving the store to go to art school, and that in effect, I was hired to replace her. The irony of this just blows me away. I was hired to replace the person I most enjoy working with. Unfuckingbelievable. I will miss this girl a lot. She trained me and she is super-sweet and everyone else in the store is cool, but they're just not her. I was really, really sad to hear that she was leaving. Perhaps if I'm lucky I can get her to call me and we can meet up since her school is not that far from my apartment. But I'm not holding my breath. I will try to get her the bracelet she wanted and then I will say goodbye. Perhaps the best I can leave her with is the knowledge that I will do her job to the greatest extent of my ability. And perhaps I can leave her with the absolute certainty that she will be missed.
The advantage of being the newbie in your place of employment is really the fly-on-the-wall factor. I get to listen in on all kinds of conversations that normally no one would be allowed to hear. I find out who is actually a lesbian (she's nice but not at all my type), who is religious (better watch the cursing there), whose email password is the same as the name of their second child, who is pregnant, who likes caramel macchiatos, and the like.
Part of this is just because I am ridiculously observant of people and their little idiosyncrasies. I remember names after hearing them once or twice, and when I don't remember them I wait until someone else uses a name so that I never call people by the wrong one. I remember food preferences and clothing choices and exactly who gets the most pissed off when you mix up their invoice slips. And I am always waiting for that moment of Zen when someone reveals their true nature to me. It is usually in times of stress or uncharacteristic candour. Sometimes the really sweet people turn out to be assholes and the assholes turn out to be very sweet but insecure. No one really knows that I do this. Except of course, you people.
Oh, and the people who are most liberal with the word 'fuck' are usually the people I like the most. Weird, I know.
In conclusion, life goes on -- on strained and sometimes shaky ground. Every day I feel a little bit more like myself again, but it will take a long time. Most of the people who 'know' me have no idea about my personal life. Unlike my coworkers I tend to be much more discreet. And if you spell it 'discrete' it means something totally different. Julie is the only one I would have felt comfortable telling any of this to, and soon she'll be gone so there's really not much point.
I expect no sympathy from them, and in effect I expect no sympathy from you, either. All I expect is that I be allowed to be honest, whether it be tedious or irritating or cliched.
You always reserve the right to stop reading.
Perhaps more later. Now I want to read that wombat book again.
Cheers,
-N
