With a Sense of Poise and Rationality

March 2010 September 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks. I feel like that song, ‘Playground Love’ by Air. Just very chill and content. I think it’s pretty safe to say I’ve recovered the stability I lost since February and reached its peak in May.

Yes, it was attained through shameless escapism in the form of standard nymphet behavior (Best. Behavior. Ever) in what will soon be 20 wonderful days, but as always the price of happiness is being willing to pay with an equal amount of discontent.

It’s safe to say that that February-Mid-May span was a valid price for how happy I am right now.

I’m just happy. Genuinely happy. Not the chemical imbalance that is hypomania, just really content.

Everyone is leaving, everyone is moving on, I will more than likely won’t see everyone gathered in one same place again, and it’s OK.

Dynamics are changing, evolving, people meet, people part, people change and it’s all OK.

This year I lose the last generation of friends that still remained in high school and none of it stings. I’m thrilled for them, thrilled for myself. We're all moving forward, we're all getting somewhere.

For someone as emotionally invested in them as myself, it feels strange to say that.

I haven't had this much stability in all my relationships ever. I like this.

The voices are still quiet. The most bizarre thing though has been how life has been imitating art again. Dynamics, behavior, overall circumstances characteristic, and pretty much exclusive to them have been translating to my day-to-day life. It doesn’t cease to go over my head.

I love it.

I love how nonchalant my gang is, and how we all just somehow grew up to be nymphets and kinksters (with a bit of encouragement on my part, of course).

I love you guys.

I haven’t quite reached my balance yet. I’m prone to excess, so if the first 3 weeks were focused on dwelling in melancholy and despair, these last ten days, and the next ten to follow will have been sheer escapism.

These last ten days were spent with A’s family in the most epic and bizarre visit ever, characterized by its nonchalance over a variety of events that should have had us going “wtf?” but didn’t.

Nonchalance is awesome.

The dynamic in the group has changed considerably and we’ve all grown and developed so much that old prejudices and assumptions are no longer valid or applicable.

Getting used to dealing with loss. When I complained that everyone was leaving and I was the only one staying in the country, she pointed out that I did it first to them when I moved to Laguna.

And it’s true. I always leave first, and it’s only been until recently that I’ve had to deal with that kind of loss.

These last ten days made up for the bad rut I’ve been all this time. Again, it’s like that saying— how for every good thing you pay an equal price in sorrow; it’s not just ‘oh, for every good thing there’s bound to be something bad’. No, you have to be willing to pay for happiness with an equivalent amount of unhappiness for there to be a balance.

The move is going on. I’m excited for it. And that ten day break of fun and escapism was exactly what I needed to recharge my batteries and trigger back my motivation.

Now I’m eager to go to SF once I scratch out enough cash for it.

I have a bunch of people I need to visit. When I do Canada, it will probably be during the summer, and it will be a month long trip; 2 weeks in Winnipeg, 2 weeks in Edmonton, so I can see my girls. I want to kill two birds with one stone, because the damn VISA requirements are just such bullshit with their ‘Single Entrance’ nonsense.

K comes in on Monday, so I’m thrilled to have my K back.

I think I’m almost back to normal. Yesterday I watched the end of Wolf’s Rain again, and it triggered that obsessive compulsive thought pattern I get when I’m working on a story. Suddenly I found it relating to this really old Gothic Romance story I only wrote a few pages of, and started to discover new things about some characters.

I was very surprised to suddenly engage in that type of behavior again, because it means there’s a spark of creativity.

Just the plotting, the note-taking, going over potential scenes and overall structure in my head. That’s the initial part of the spark. Thinking in terms of visual imagery, of irony— this is what I missed. I missed my mind obsessing over something not related to me, in my head.

Because that’s essentially what the characters (who are still not talking) and the stories do. They take my obsessive compulsive behavior and channel it elsewhere. It takes the lime light off of me (which is exhausting) onto obsessing, breaking down and psychoanalyzing something else.

Almost over this.

Almost out of the hole. This time I’m not forcing myself out of it, since that just exhausts me and frustrates me even more, I’m just going with it, through it, and trusting it’ll eventually be over.

I’ve been retracting from everyone and every thing, and just falling into that.; neglecting friends and loved ones not out of a lack of interest, rather from an aversion to passing this bad mood onto someone else.

Past lovers did it to me, I recall doing it as well and driving her crazy, and it’s never pretty. You can’t just soak all of that up, internalize it, and not know how to let it go.

It’s the most frustrating thing in the world having someone you care about dump all their issues on you, and feeling the desperate need to fix them for them (even if they never asked you, and it’s not even the expectation they had to begin with).

So I’m just dealing with things my self, not out of vanity, not out of some prideful ego taking over, simply because for the moment, it’s something I can actually handle. If I need help processing things, I ask for it. Pretty much done with the whole ridiculous self-sufficient pride bit.

I recall someone saying, I can’t actually remember who of my friends, but they said something along the lines that sometimes they just get sad out of nowhere, but it’s just there, and so they’d just sit there in their sadness and let if flow through, and that was it.

I recall they just said it in passing, but something about it just clicked.

So that’s what I’m doing. It’s not painful enough for me to seek to verbally vent it out on a caring shoulder (or ear), it’s not even painful enough for me to rant elaborately about it to get it out of my system— it’s just a feeling. Not really caused by anything, just backlash from the last breakdown.

Things are looking good though.

We found a house, we’ll be moving in in a month, and it’s back to drinking tea and eating soup out of marmalade jars, and drinking cheap wine out of teacups. Seriously. I’m talking worst than having a ‘student’ apartment. We’re probably going to be sleeping in sleeping bags, which I just find hysterical.

It’s going to be great.

The semester’s over, and… well, it was interesting. I can’t really wrap my mind around it.

I’ve noticed I fall into using the word ‘interesting’ when I’m in a state of cautious pause about something— like taking in a deep breath to say something, then holding it because there’s not really anything to follow, no real words to describe it. It’s neither good, nor bad, it’s just interesting.

I learned a ridiculous amount of things about myself I wouldn’t have realized otherwise, and got a good taste of the things I’ll be looking for in five years, so I'm looking forward to that.

It wasn’t the manic whirlwind it was last semester with the parties and the dinners and the manic sadism and the night-club stories, but it was a good semester, characterized by change and a general period of refraction.

I noticed a real shift in personality. I seem to be taking a break from developing any emotional attachments, just really sinking in to being an introvert, sort of detaching and isolating myself not out of preference, but out of genuine need. It’s pretty bizarre, but I don't really mind it.

It’s kind of funny, but growing apart from the three people that meant the most to me in such a rapid succession just has me really jaded. Not in any way cynical, just very jaded in this ‘Wow, those relationships were great, but I really need a break from people now.’

I’m amused there’s sill some backlash there. There’s a dissonance between the way I’m intellectually over it, yet the emotional side, while also over it, is just taking a bit longer to catch its breath.

Just not in the mood for anything that’s not light or fun or casual, all I crave is just this fun, light, ridiculous bout of silliness, which my friends are more than experts at providing, and I love them for it.

I’m moving out of my aunt’s house into a little place behind my school. My doctor said that I can’t afford any more breakdowns if I don’t want them to become more frequent or more intense, so I have to change my lifestyle considerably. So no more Jules Mayfair way of living, except maybe in some areas. Which is just in time, really, since my cousins live at Jules' pace, so I constantly had to keep up. Now I can just chill for a while.

I’m getting a kitty, too, since pets help with depression and apparently their purring has some sort of healing quality. I found a Russian Blue breeder in the city, so I’ll be getting one when I move in there. Russian Blues have pretty much my personality type (and they’re gorgeous), so it’s a good match. It’s also the cat Sam or Cass keep at the house, so I’m going to get a male and name him Cassian just to piss Cass off, because I love him (read: like to annoy him).

I’m good. I’m content, emotionally numb with a proclivity towards melancholy, and lacking the motivation I’d like to have, but just generally content and looking forward to what’s up next on the road.

Moodswings are moodswings, so I’ve learned not to take them too seriously.