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|star-sailor (profile) wrote, |
on 10-28-2008 at 3:42am
|Music: Ára Bátur - Sigur Rós
Subject: The Thanksgiving Dinner Plate Kind of Full
|Life is a rollercoaster. That's what they say, reader, and between you and me, They say a lot. But they say it. They say it all the time. Life is a rollercoaster, kid/chum/mate/darling/honey/son." They also say, "It has its ups and downs." And they advise to not to "Put too much stuff on your plate."
Well my plate's full, reader. Chock full. We're at a buffet, on the day after Ramadan, and holy hell I'm going to eat the entire thing full. Fashion icon who just got fired because she's too old so who the fuck cares if I'm fat anymore, I'm not going to be on the front cover of a magazine even if I tried, so get the fuck outta my way because I am about to stampede the nearest frigerator full. My plate is that kind of full, reader.
Now don't get me wrong. You may know of my skinny demeanour. You may know of my slim physique. But don't place undue judgment on my eating habits, reader. I'm quite the piggy individual. I can eat my way through quite a lot on my plate. Food is a pleasure; food is a joy; I love to savour food; and I enjoy a good, hardy meal set before me. But I know my limits. I know when I simply can't have that side of beans, and I know when I've snacked on one too many quessadillas, and I know as much as I love all those cookies, I should probably stop. I know how full my plate should be. And I know when my plate is too full. And dear reader, my plate is WAY too full.
I'm moving. Blah blah blah, blah blah, blah blah blah. You know that by now. I'm moving. That's not news - that's not timely at all, Chris - what the hell are you bringing that up for again? Well... I'm moving. Simply put, I am uprooting, transplanting, and hopefully thriving in a new ecosystem. Simplistic as it seems, I seem to be in a rut. I had hoped to make this move as quick and painless as possible. The biggest problem with people and moving is that they take their damn sweet time. If they just bit their lips and got the hard work over with, they'd be in a new house and there would be no complaints. Well, my mom is for that old way of thinking... the old, "Well, I have a busy life, and we have to move - not moving is not an option - but I'm simply too lazy and tired to get work done." And thus, we have not moved out yet.
Remodeling is tough, I admit. I've mentioned before that the exterior stairs leading to my future upstairs apartment-esque home are in dire need of repair, and that the interior's floors need sanded. We need to fix the plumbing, get rid of some wasps, and move everything in. 25% of this has been accomplished. We sanded... HUZZAH. It took a day, thankfully, and we're done; we still have to buy some wood flooring, but that will be painless, and they're easy to install. My mom... has not called the plumber, so the plumbing is not done. My mom says, "Don't worry about the wasps... they'll die." So the wasps are still there. The stairs are still in complete disrepair, and we can't move any heavy objects up them until they are stable to walk on. No carpenters are being spoken to. Thus, the stairs remain there, in disrepair. It's hard enough as it is to leave my lifelong house. But dragging the process out is stressful, long, arduous, and painful. I hate it. I burdens me.
School is school. I don't care if I was talented enough to make A's in all of my subjects, I will always struggle with school. School and I, well, we're not compatible. We have a bad relationship together. People gossip all the time about school and I. I've always been a C-B average student. Nothing has ever changed. My classes are fun, but tough. And they're made tougher because of the commitments I have to fill with remodeling the house. This is tough, and I have no reason to whine, because everyone deals with school. But remember, we're filling a plate with tasty piles of life. This is just one of them.
I've been at TCC for almost three years now. As fine and dandy as that is, I'm faced with the fact (as I have been for the past almost three years) it's a sucky school. Well, it's time to transfer, finally! I have recently put my application into UTA. The essay was hard to write, so that was stressful, the application itself was stressful, I need to figure out if I'll have financial aid when attending, so that's stressful, I have to figure that out before November 1st, which is REALLY stressful, I have to PRAY that the school even accepts me into their institution and that is VERY stressful, and I have to do this while my plate is quite full already. That's stressful. But moving on...
Troisièmement: Work. Work is as work does. I love my job. But that doesn't make it any more or less stressful. It's hard to deal with kids. It's hard to take care of 20 seperate human beings on a regular basis, sometimes 40 if another teacher isn't around. And as if that wasn't hard enough, I'm expected to make their life a little more fun and entertaining. I love doing it, but it's exhausting. The stress evens itself out, in the end, but this added stress doesn't help when you consider...
Number four. Disease. Reader, bear with me, if this seems convoluted and in a poor order. I am sick. Don't fret, my dearies, nothing serious. A bout of the common cold ails me. No biggie, right? Just have a lot of soup, get a lot of sleep, and you'll be better in no time, right? Apparently not anymore. I got sick almost a month ago with a cold. It got better in a few days... only to come back... so I treated it again, and it went away... and came back! So, once more, I tirelessly tried to make myself better. And I was better... until I got sick AGAIN. Thrice has this cold come back to haunt me. It's the sniffles, and it's the low energy, and it's the coughs, and the fevers, and the soar throats. And this effects my school work, and my work work. I can't think straight when taking midterm tests when I have fevers, and I can't lecture to a cafeteria of 70 kids with a soar throat. I fear my immune system has given up hope on me... but I believe I found the culprit. There is a sneakthief in the night, sapping my poor immune system of hope...
Weight. Metaphors aside, folks, we all need food to eat. I've been a vegetarian for... well, I forget now, a couple months or so. But it's great! I feel much healthier than I did before. I've learned how to taste much more minute flavours that I simply didn't taste before. It's a joy to not eat animals. But when I first got sick, it didn't matter if I ate meat or vegetables, because I lost my appetite, as it happens with colds. I lost six pounds before getting well that first week. I'm already underweight... I was 106 lbs. Now I'm 100. That's about 20-25 lbs. underweight for my age/height bracket. Being underweight is not healthy, and I know this. But I seem to have dipped sufficiently low enough to make my immune system ineffective. Before this drop in weight, I had the strongest immune system alive - I only would get sick with a cold once a year - now three times in one month. I believe I've lost too much weight. But stress is a good way to lose weight, and I'm plenty stressed. I also don't have time to eat at times. On school days, I go to school early in the day, with no time for a decent breakfast, and leave with only 30 minutes to get to work - not enough time for a hefty meal. I find time to eat SOMETHING, honestly, but I need more... I need time to slowly take in food, and I simply don't have any way to do that. I have no time because we're busy trying to remodel, or busy with other life facets, or I'm busy with school, or I'm busy at work. And I have a notoriously, naturally intense metabolism anyway. So it's hard for me to put on weight. And that's not the end of this sad tale...
Friendships. Beautiful, aren't they? Turn to your friends for comfort, and socialization, and celebration. Unfortunately, I'm not so lucky. Firstly, like Leslie and I have discussed, we don't have many friends. I have my sister, Leslie. I love her. Sadly, we don't see each other as often as I wish we could. She's busy with school, and I'm busy with life, and I never know when she would like to hang out. This is mostly my fault, but alas, it is at present, the way it is (though I earnestly wish to change this!). Amie is a grand friend 'o mine. I care for her deeply. But she's a busy gal. Girl scouts, senior year, friends, life, applying to colleges, getting accepted to colleges, scholarships, boys, life, and band, band, band, band. She has simply been busy ever since band began in summer. I have become very distanced from her over this time. Thankfully, band is now over (for now), and she will have more time for me (hopefully). I have also told her that our friendship was teetering, and I'm proud to say that she has been doing an astronomical job of setting things straight; between talking to me, in both meaningful and wasteful conversation, and showing me she is making an honest effort toward our friendship, she is beginning to convince me she wants our friendship as much as I do. But between issues over the summer, issues of our present day, and issues in the past, it's definitely not a walk in the park right now for Amie and I.
Then my other friends. O ye, BHC, how shall I speak to thee? Ara, Mary, Christina, and all associated characters. They're fun folks, and I'm glad to have their friendship. But because of band, once again, I feel very distanced from them. I feel very disconnected from the people I call friends, and I feel like there's not a terrible lot left to base a friendship off of. Maybe I'm overthinking, because we all know I'm skilled at that. But I miss them very much, and I see none of them making an effort to do anything about it. I feel like my friendship with them was very disposable. They're busy, I know, and I respect that. Hell, I cheer them on for good luck. But I don't feel like they're cheering for me... I don't feel like they even think about me half the time. And I know they hang out with each other. I know they spend evenings together, smiling, laughing, and having a wonderful time. So they're hanging out when they have spare time, and I'm not with them. And that's hard to deal with seeing all my friends together, happy, and my not being able to join in (maybe that's selfish... but everyone is entitled to be a little selfish, right?). I feel completely out of touch. I feel like a very pointless antique on a shelf that never gets dusted in these friendships. I feel expendable, and I don't see any effort on anyone's part to show me otherwise. I also know some past friends are less than reliable... So I am a poser, eh? So you think I'm kind of dumb, eh? So you think I'm a creep, eh? So you think I'm an idiot, eh? I see where our friendships stand. Between not seeing my best friends, not seeing my regular friends, not feeling like my regular friends really care about being my friend in the first place, and finding out friends aren't really friends... well, it's just a stressful situation.
What would taste good with a side of neglected friendship, or distance from those you care for? Why, a big heaping bowl of loneliness. Yes, dear reader, I whine about it often. But I'm lonely once more. I recently hung out with Leslie and Matt. We went to see Saw V, which was horrible, but we laughed our way through it. We spied on people, and then adventured in Walmart. I loved it. But that was the first time I had hung out with anyone in well over a month. Sure, I saw Amie a couple times, but not for a fair "hang out" - never for long enough. The last time I honestly hung out was blabbing with Jayne in the park over pizza about life. That was a LONG time ago. I miss my friends. I miss my best friends. But dammit, I just MISS being around someone. I miss being somewhere where I am understood. I wish I could be around PEOPLE. I wish I could SPEAK. I wish I could go to parties. I wish I could go to dinners. I wish I could just bloody sit with someone in their living room... not even doing anything with them... just being in their company. Just being able to say, "Well... I'm kinda bored," to someone instead of asking the nearest wall. But for whatever reason, socialization and I don't meet up much. Our dates are few and far between.
And what else, Chris, you beg, reader, what else, what other possible thing could be so wrong?! Well... life. I started this off with a metaphor about plates of food. The plate is my life, and the food is my issues. And man, if you look at these issues of mine, my plate's FULL. And that's yet another problem on my plate. I am stressed, and thus, I'm more stressed out. Stress is stressful, as silly as that sounds. I am TIRED of feeling stressed; I'm tired of feeling like I'm just going along with life, and dragging the corpse of my passionate body and soul behind me as I try to just take another step for... whatever reason I'm walking in the first place. I hate being this busy, I hate being this lonely, I hate not seeing Leslie and Amie, I hate not feeling close to my friends, I hate not having control over my health, I hate that my weight even has anything to do with my health, I hate that we can't just move and get it over with. I hate, I hate, I hate. I hate this stress. And so, I'm stressed, and that's another tasty treat on my plate.
Oh me, oh my, what ever shall I do, reader? I don't know. I'm lost. I know when my plate is too full, reader, and this is too full. I'm doing my best, but even my best will never be good enough. Not now. Not when I have bit more than I can chew. I'm not stupid - I know my capabilities. I can not handle this. But I can't stop. I have to keep on truckin', as some hats have told me. I feel out of touch with my best friends, don't feel like I have regular friends anymore, feel stressed at work because I'm sick, which is affecting my already stressful school life, which is adding more stress for when I work stressfully with remodelling my new house, which means I'm not moving, adding more stress, making me less likely to gain weight, making me more sick, which means I'm so sick I can't hang out with friends........... you get the picture.
I'm exhausted. I can't do this. I need relief. I need one problem to start making sense soon. I can't keep up this juggling process. I simply am not that strong, and I freely admit that. I need help, dear reader. I don't know who can help me set my life back on track, but they are a saint. If one, maybe two of these problems made sense, my life would return to normal, because I could handle the rest in a timely fashion. But I am helplessly stuck until divine intervention rescues me from this endless stream of life that leaves me without solace.
You know what I do for stress relief, reader? I write. Writing is great for stress relief. But look at the time... it's 3:00 in the morning. I should be thoroughly asleep, yet I'm trying to manage my stress. Without sleep, I'll get sicker, but without relieving stress, I'll be so stressed I'll just get more sick. Juggling, reader, just like I said. One good thing equals another bad thing, but this is all I can do to subsist - this is my only option left to sustain myself - to balance my problems one at a time, and recycle old problems when I can't handle new ones. And do you want to know the sad truth in my form a stress relief? If I get too stressed, or if a problem, like a breakup, or an argument, or a cold comes along when I'm trying to relax... when I'm trying to lose stress... I can't write. I get writer's block, and simply can't write. I lose the inspiration, and thus, the ability to relieve myself of stress.
Rollercoaster, kid. It's wild, it's crazy, but that's life. This is life, and I'm in the middle of juggling it. And I hate juggling. Juggling's not fun at all. It's cool when the jugglers at the carnival do it, but I'm in my bedroom, and I'm no juggler. I'm not good at this. I need help. Juggle with me, reader. Help me, reader. I don't like asking for help. I don't like asking for loans, or handouts, or aid, or assistance, or anything. I don't like asking when I don't absolutely need something. Well, I absolutely need something. I need help, reader. Whoever you are, I implore you to try and help me. Talk to me. Ask me how I'm doing. Hold a conversation with me. Let me whine about my problems to you. Tell me a story. Cheer me up. Whatever, reader, whatever you can. It's appreciated... your help is appreciated, reader. Help me, reader. Help me.
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