A desperate attempt to mature

I've been spending a good deal of time with my family lately. I suppose I should say even more than usual. What with it being my mother's birthday and my lola returning home after a month and my brother home for another weekend, my last couple of days have been family-filled to say the least. What I've noticed is that typically I find myself seeing that spending time with them as an obligation or as an act of generosity on my part that I am sacrificing my leisure time to spend with them. I can feel the angsty teenager brooding inside of me, resenting their company. However there's another part of me that is less frequently visible that is just so happy to have them there for me and that part of me wants to be there for them, too. Unfortunately I forget this side of me all too often, resulting in stinging words or silent detachment. Until I remember the people that are always there for me, who have always forgiven me, who have sacrificed so much for me, and the least I can do is be there. I just hate that side of me that wants to push them away.

Empathy

You know that feeling where you just want to cry and let it all out, but you just can't? Do other people have this inability to hone in on their emotions? Sometimes when I see or hear about something tragic, I feel so detached and indifferent and I wonder why can't I fully empathize with these people. I can rationalize in my head why it's so tragic and sad, but I don't feel it. I can think, "Well, that's just terrible." But I say it in the same way that I say, "Well, it looks like it might storm tonight." As if it's just a passing thought and not inhumanity passing through my lips.

Triumph

Minesweeper

To Do:

Donate/sell pile of clothes that is currently sitting in the bathroom

Throw out the trash in the bathroom

Finish cleaning room

Stop the incessant throbbing of the left side of my face permanently

Remove nail polish from toes

Maintain flossing regimen

Budget

Visit Emily's apartment

Get out of rut

Numb

I was sitting on my bed clutching my jaw. The pain emanating from the socket in my mouth wasn't too intense. It was more like an intermittent throbbing that seemed to be climbing to my temple. I walked downstairs and popped two extra strength Tylenols (I think they were actually Target brand acetamenophins, but they're all the same) and wondered briefly how many painkillers I had taken that day. I disregarded this thought as the pain numbed and climbed back into bed to watch the boob tube. Garden State was on. It seemed like a nice distraction from my toothache so I got comfortable and watched Zach Braff ("Largeman") numb his own pains with countless prescriptions. His pains were a little different though. They were emotional and mental pains; however, even he hadn't felt them for years. He hadn't felt anything in a while. This got me to thinking about my own pains and my own attempts to numb the painful or difficult things in my life. Not only the physical pains, but the emotional ones as well. As I sat there with my aches numbed and my brain feeling a little numb as well, I began to drift off to sleep where this numbing seemed to overtake me. As I began to drift in and out of my consciousness I lost feeling in my body and I became frustrated and wanted to just succumb to sleep or numbness or something. I suppose I was dreaming, but I can't stop thinking about whether I've taken this approach to the rest of my life -- where I'll avoid things because of a fear of pain or suffering. Maybe pain and suffering is good for us sometimes. I honestly can't remember the last time I cried. Not to say that I've been just overwhelmingly happy. I think I've just become so used to blocking out anything bad or potentially painful from my mind. I suppose I feel like I haven't felt anything powerful in a while. I feel a little numb, that's all.

Flust-ration.

I've been a bit out of sorts lately. I feel like I need to clear out everything -- my room, my life, my mind... There's just too much going on that whenever I try to make any sense out of it, I'm just left flustered. I keep trying to blog here and I tried writing at work (which turns out to be a bad idea, because I left my little notepad on Bryan's desk and I think he read what I had written and probably thinks I'm crazy). I don't even know what I want to write about -- that's the hardest (and most frustrating part). I feel like something isn't right, but I can't pinpoint what it is. Or maybe it's nothing. I always get in these moods, but is there really anything behind them? Maybe it's just my psyche telling me that I can never really be comfortable for too long. Or maybe I just want an easy fix to an overarching dissatisfaction that just can't be solved so easily.

I keep putting off these uneasy feelings by keeping my mind busy; however, what I probably need most is time and space to just think.