Like Gilda Besse would say, the wanderlust has got me.

I’ve been flirting with the idea of what I’m doing this summer. I don’t think I want to take any classes. I’ll go insane if I take any more classes, without any sort of break to look forward to. Last year, I had my 2 week vacation with Saffie to look forward to (still have no clue how that happened), this year, I’ve got nothing. Money’s been way too tight to go anywhere, and if I’m not paying for it, no one is, so no vacations this summer.

Got fed up with simply flirting with the idea, and plotting out how I’m going to carry things out (the big move, transportation, work) and decided to just take the first step.

Called my mother and went ‘Been looking at apartments for the summer— not taking any courses, going to work instead, to pay for an exchange program.”

I was surprised when she didn’t object.

I’m always surprised when I’m faced with a lack of opposition.

I’ve learned that with my parents, asking for permission gets me the possibility of rejection, or a ‘Your life, your choices” answer. This is… relatively recent. Ever since Cali, I think. It’s kind of a mindfuck, considering the household I belong to now takes the ‘By the way, this is what I’m doing. Just letting you know.’ approach as a direct affront to their authority.

So after a year of having to adjust to having to ask permission for every little thing, and when finding myself unable to, deliberately doing things under the table, it’s still a mindfuck switching back and forth.

I’ve honestly reached my limit. Much as I love my relatives, I just can’t keep literally biting into my tongue until it bleeds over every little thing. I’m sick of having to censor everything I say in terms of word choice and subject matter, and keep everything in constant check. It makes me too aggressive and defensive when I have to keep my guard up all the freaking time.

I’d have no problem if I had an outlet. That friend I regularly see, and don’t have to filter myself with, but I don’t. And so it’s that feeling again of not belonging anywhere. Of feeling like an outsider basically.

Closest thing is my ramblings to K, since we live so damn far apart. Seriously, dude. I’m moving into your closet or something, even if it’s snowing and it’s all ew. Better than this hellish heat!

And I feel it more keenly with every day that passes, and every little argument, and that very specific look they give me when I say something they disagree with (they don’t believe that two arguments can be equally valid, even if they disagree with the other. It’s all black and white). It’s this look that triggers extreme shame and humiliation, making me go ‘What the hell? Where the fuck did that come from?’. I actually want to cry.

I’ve already done the whole ‘reject the world before it rejects you’ thing, but it’s the same kind of visceral reaction I get when people push my triggers. It strikes straight to the core, triggering watery eyes, and troubled breathing, and just deep humiliation and shame and despair over being misunderstood.

I’m intellectually aware that none of what they say applies, and there’s no small part in me that is ashamed of anything. If anything, I’m unapologetic about who I am, but those very base reactions always throw me off guard.

It’s basically just that painful feeling of I don’t belong here.

Given this past week, I probably have more than enough to make the 80 bucks worth the session. I’m usually my own therapist, but I can’t place my finger on this one.

I came across a book on emotional intelligence today, so I got it. I’m always curious to read about that sort of thing. So far, it’s very interesting.

It said that we can’t actually rationalize our way out of an emotion. Which I objected to for a few pages, until it clarified that we don’t use logic alone. It’s logic, coupled by a stronger emotion, what works to change things, not eradicate them.

It took me a bit to apply it to myself, but it’s true. I’ll rationalize myself out of something using logic, but it’s always rage or anger or pride, what’s fueling things. Haven’t gotten to the part where it says whether what I do is healthy or not.

Either way, it works for me.

I’ll keep reading to see where it goes.