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Yet again, I neglected to write out all the thoughts in my head when I was thinking them, and now they're gone. I have a terrible short term memory. My mom says that there are three types of people in the world; Past, Present, and Future. Apparently, I'm a mix of Present and Future. Which means I forget about things as soon as they happen, because the past has no bearing on my life in the moment.
Hurray. So, I have very few truly negative memories, and very few truly positive ones. I'm constantly jumping forward to the next sensation, and promptly forgetting the last one... This actually sounds pretty accurate.
This was a good trip. It clarified a lot of things for me, explained a lot about the life I'm choosing to lead now. In many ways, it solidified my faith in myself, and in my decisions. It made me so sad, on some levels, to see the deliberate, eyes closed ears blocked ignorance I'd have to be living in if I'd stayed. I love and respect my family, I really do. But for myself, I couldn't have lived that life without cutting out my heart and my brain. There are so many beautiful parts to it, parts that I want to recreate for myself. Recreate without the strings.
In other ways, it made me extremely discontented with my life. There is very little depth in my life at the moment. My closest relationship with a man is deliberately set as nothing more than a friendship with benefits, and any time we go beyond that boundary bad things happen.
My friendships are lovely, but distant and constricted. I rarely see them, though when I do it's wonderful. I'm absolutely positive that most of this is my doing. I put little effort into pushing for more for myself. When I do put the effort in, I get drained and tired so quickly. I go for long periods of time needing nothing from anyone, and then suddenly desperately craving the closeness and attention of my good friends. That's not fair. That's overwhelming and selfish.
The relationship I have with my family is effortless, of course. Years of enforced intimacy have created a bond that's hard to replicate. Even the depressing knowledge that I can never, ever truly be myself around them doesn't tarnish the shine. And it should. I should ask for more than that for myself. I should demand more than that.
The fact that I don't, that I accept less because I don't think I deserve more, says more about my emotional maturity than pretty much anything else I've ever realized about myself.
Less depressing post about the awesomeness that is travel to follow... :D
Hurray. So, I have very few truly negative memories, and very few truly positive ones. I'm constantly jumping forward to the next sensation, and promptly forgetting the last one... This actually sounds pretty accurate.
This was a good trip. It clarified a lot of things for me, explained a lot about the life I'm choosing to lead now. In many ways, it solidified my faith in myself, and in my decisions. It made me so sad, on some levels, to see the deliberate, eyes closed ears blocked ignorance I'd have to be living in if I'd stayed. I love and respect my family, I really do. But for myself, I couldn't have lived that life without cutting out my heart and my brain. There are so many beautiful parts to it, parts that I want to recreate for myself. Recreate without the strings.
In other ways, it made me extremely discontented with my life. There is very little depth in my life at the moment. My closest relationship with a man is deliberately set as nothing more than a friendship with benefits, and any time we go beyond that boundary bad things happen.
My friendships are lovely, but distant and constricted. I rarely see them, though when I do it's wonderful. I'm absolutely positive that most of this is my doing. I put little effort into pushing for more for myself. When I do put the effort in, I get drained and tired so quickly. I go for long periods of time needing nothing from anyone, and then suddenly desperately craving the closeness and attention of my good friends. That's not fair. That's overwhelming and selfish.
The relationship I have with my family is effortless, of course. Years of enforced intimacy have created a bond that's hard to replicate. Even the depressing knowledge that I can never, ever truly be myself around them doesn't tarnish the shine. And it should. I should ask for more than that for myself. I should demand more than that.
The fact that I don't, that I accept less because I don't think I deserve more, says more about my emotional maturity than pretty much anything else I've ever realized about myself.
Less depressing post about the awesomeness that is travel to follow... :D
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