Showing posts with label boyfriend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boyfriend. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Driving the Point Home

A question was posed in my Psychopharmacology class that I felt merited some consideration on my part.  

We were talking about why someone might fail to take their medication, or continue to say they're having significant problems when they aren’t.  
The question was “What is the gain from remaining sick?”  
This can obviously be answered in many ways, depending on the circumstance.

I began to think about this in terms of my own life and my own struggles with my fears and with a failure to drive. 

 If I don't try, I can't fail, right? 

This logic never worked in any other area of my life, so I'm not sure why I thought it would with driving, other than the fact that I did mostly have other ways around. 

Let's face it. 

I don't leave my home very often, and would generally prefer to be some kind of happy recluse, but I understand that this isn't a reasonable possibility. 

I also feel guilty now that I don't live by a bus line and occasionally need to carpool or outright ask people for rides, as I can't currently afford to take cabs everywhere while in the unpaid internship... 
Externship... 
Whateverthefuckship. 


In any case, I've been attempting and mostly failing to prioritize my health, and instead I've been obsessing over something that is generally not seen as a big deal. 

More than that, it is generally seen as a wonderful thing. 

For me personally, passing the test means that I now don't have to retake the permit test, which would have been embarrassing. 

I don't have to have the strange looks when I have a non-driver ID instead. 
I don't have to have anyone questioning how I function in life, just because they are too unimaginative to think of living without a car in my situation. 

I wanted to be proud of myself too, but I'm having trouble with that. 

I think the issue is that I really had no desire to do it at all, so rather than feeling accomplished, I just feel like I gave in. 

I did this thing that I had no desire to do, just because someone else told me to do it. 

Christ. 

How much of my life has been like that? 
 

Still, having passed is great, if only for the wait for the next one to now be gone forever. 

The pressure each time was slowly killing me. 

It became everything. 

It took over every aspect of my life with the sheer power of not-want. 

I just don't want to think about it anymore. 

Passing means I don't have to worry about the test, but now I have the car I can't afford, the insurance, the upkeep, the responsibility, and the assumption that I will drive. 

Now, it has become an issue if I do have the audacity to ask for help. 

After all, I can drive. 

Everyone involved seems to think passing the test has immediately cured me of my not-want. 

It did not, just as doing any other terrible thing forever doesn't automatically make people Stockholm-syndrome themselves into loving the thing. 

Now, I just have more questions, more pressure, and I fear that I'll wind up on the side of the road sobbing and hysterical, missing my appointments that were otherwise never an issue to get to on time. 

I guess any lingering depression winds up more apparent when it's on me, rather than being able to say, "Well, better get going so my ride doesn't get upset."  
 

I feel like I'm constantly letting everyone down either way, or that there is something significant wrong with me, beyond all the things that have actually made my life harder. 

It's frustrating to note that the things I actually want to work on and struggle with are somehow not good enough to those around me. 

I fully realize that I am not those people, but some solidarity would be nice. 

I have found myself falling from pushing on and through and up, to just wanting to be left alone to rot. 

Of course, my Knight in Pinstripes and my very good friends ARE supportive and would never let me do that to myself, as much as I may try. 

Still, this is upsetting because I understand that it has all been hinged on this idea of having a car and driving and freedom in this lonely, expensive, wasteful death machine. 

Again, Rob is all for carpooling and is steady in his belief that I should not have to drive if I do not want to. 

He generally believes I shouldn't do ANYTHING that I don't want to do, but again, that means I would do... pretty much nothing. 

Ever.  

Sometimes, I pretend that I want to drive. 
Sometimes, I pretend that I am already someone who drives. 

It is a fun fantasy, but ultimately leaves me feeling empty, realizing I am lying to myself because I feel like I am worth less than I would be as a driver. 

I feel like while I've been told I am not, I must certainly be a burden, and something to be ashamed of. 

Otherwise, why would any of this have come up at all? I wind up wallowing in everything else I've been trying to fix, just to have this barrier of, “No, look. I'm too sick. I can't drive because I'm too sick.” 

I've been self sabotaging and ruining so much of my health, both physical and mental, in an effort to convince those around me that I am sick enough to not do this one thing that I have never done before anyway. 
 

All that having been said, I did face my fears. 

And now, I have it, whether I ever use it or not. 

These are things I CAN be proud of, because they were important to my growth as a person. 

That is the most important part.


And... I actually do like the car.  Well, when it starts up, anyway.  

I call it The Grey Ghost, and I understand that my aversion to driving is not the car's fault. 

...My tendency to personify objects a bit probably doesn't help the guilt though. 

Just sayin'.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Rejection!





Let's take a moment to talk about rejection. 

It sounds like a dirty, horrible, hurtful thing, but it's really just a very formal way of saying "no."




Sometimes, these rejections are done in weird ways. 

For example, I was once broken up with by a man I was not dating.

I had been effectively stalking his housemate and sort of using him to do it.
 


WOW that sounded really bad, all typed out.

Well, it's not really incorrect, so we'll keep it.

I did legitimately want to start a friendship with this guy anyway.

Then I learned why I shouldn't. 

With no advances, with no mention of feelings, with complete and total base-line friendship, he still got concerned that he was leading me on.

Leading me on to what?  

Do so many people really assume attraction when someone is just being friendly?  

Yep.

He took me aside in a convenience store to politely tell me, "Look, I like you a lot, and I do find you attractive, but you just aren't my type, you know?  I'm really sorry.  This isn't going to work out."

He waited for my response, which was just kind of a face of blank confusion. 


I think I maybe was supposed to cry or something? 
I was so confused that I just kind of blinked at him until my eyebrow slowly went up.
"Maybe he's practicing for someone else and I just missed that part of the conversation" I thought to myself.

Eventually, I just said, "okay" and that was that. 

We didn't hang out after that day. 
I'm sure he thinks it was because I was heartbroken, but really, I just didn't want to accidentally "lead him on" by… 
Standing there. 
I don't know.

Don't get me wrong, I've had plenty of real rejections in my life, but I hardly ever openly tried enough to require one. 

I've even been stood up. 


More than once. 

The thing is, with relationships, I had a tendency to wait around for Mr. or Ms. Perfect and when neither showed up, I'd just go to a person who was nice enough, even if I wasn't attracted to him. 
This is a terrible plan and it never ended well.
Often, the guys turned out to be not-so-nice either. 

Eventually, I stopped that, (after everything went to Hell a few years ago) and I grabbed the butt of my Knight in an effort to not be shy about it. 


(He was wearing pants.  I'm not sure why I didn't illustrate it that way.)
Okay, so I went from one side of the spectrum to the other, but it worked, so shut up.

When I was a kid, I didn't take rejection well, but I was also TERRIBLE at talking to people, which makes me wonder if half the people who rejected me even had any idea that they had done so.

Getting called a "failed experiment" by a girl is an interesting thing, but somehow didn't make me cry as much as all the "I'll totally dance with you" and then NEVER coming up to me at all. 
Did I ever go up to them after the initial asking?



Nope.

Goes both ways.

Sometimes "rejection" is what we make up in our own heads. 

Even in my happy relationship now, he and I were both so messed up from previous endeavors that we spent the first half a year (or more) worried that the other was just leading us on.  

We referred to this as "Carrie-ing," and I can pretty much describe the fear I've had for most of my life this way. 

Seriously, our own minds can be horrible friends to us.  


Sometimes though, rejection comes in the form of little pieces of paper. 

I am proud to say that out of high school, I applied to seven art schools and got into eight (not that you can tell by this blog).
However, that number evened out when I went for an interview AFTER getting an initial acceptance letter for a school that was specifically for cartoonists. 

They liked me a lot, which is why they sent that letter before the actual in-face interview.

Then, they asked if I only wanted to be a cartoonist, and the answer is really no. 
I want to draw, but I also write, sculpt, and all kinds of things. 

It was suggested that I'd probably be happier getting a more rounded art degree, but that I could always go there again if I changed my mind. 

THEN they sent a rejection letter. 
 


Seriously.  

I have one of each from this school.  
Kay.

More recently, I was up for an interview for an internship.  

I was really excited/terrified.
 


She emailed me exactly twenty four hours before the interview to apologize a thousand times and explain that they found someone.
 

Weird excuses were made, which made me think none of it was her choice. 

In such an email, is it really so hard to just say, "The position has been filled" and leave it at that?
I get that she apparently wanted to keep that interview, and I'm bummed that I have to keep looking, but for reals. 
 

Partly because of how it was written, it felt a little like I was the nerdy kid at school who had landed a date to prom with the head cheerleader, only for her to last-minute tell me she's going with my friend instead. 
 


"Like, OMG!  I am so, so sorry, but Billy has a reaaalllly nice car, so…"
Poop. 

So. 

Fine.

Now, a surefire way for me to want to reject someone else is the misspelling of my name. 
This is a digital age where everyone is emailing all the time.
 


There is ZERO reason to misspell a name when it was just right in front of you a moment ago. 

Hell, copy/paste if you have to.  

I'll never know.

On social media, saying my name in a formal way is just creepy, because if I already know a person in real life, and that person is messaging me on a private only-me thing…


You really don't have to make it a formal letter to explain that you are writing to only me. 

If you're someone I don't actually know in real life, that's fine.  
Otherwise, stop that.  

If someone does do that, I wish this could also be the kind of person who looks at the message to see how my name is spelled, or remembers me enough from previous encounters to spell it correctly.

I imagine the person typing along, thinking, "Oh, jeez…  Um…  Screw it, I'll just make it up.  I can't be assed to read the message she just sent!"

And you know?  

Sometimes, a little wrong is fine. 
Seriously. 
So long as it's basically the same name, awesome. 
There are lots of spellings to everything.  





But, see...

Then there are cases like this one time...

Okay, my email is after my comic, Deddrie.com. 

My EMAIL is not my name. 
I signed an email -RG recently. 
'Cause, you know, these are my initials. 
The response I got?
"Hello, Debbie"  …
The fuck is the Debbie?  I mean, I know it's a name, but it isn't mine. 

This means she not only ignored the signature, but then ALSO misread my email address, and then CONTINUED doing it, no matter how I signed emails after that, and how many emails she sent to me.

After this incident, with a completely different person in a completely different situation, I not only stated my full name in the body of the email, but I signed it with my full first name. 

I got this strange butchered thing that has never been a name ever. 
The first couple of letters were okay…

And then it just became strange and phonetically completely different. 

Why? 

WHY???



REJECTED.






Sunday, November 10, 2013

What I Wore and Convention Madness


I'll start this off with the first chunk of the 30 day "What I Wore" challenge... meme... thing.  

Day 1 was me dressed for a presentation.  I was nervous as all Hell, even though it was with a group.  
I still can't tell if I screwed up or not.   
Also, I love vests.


Day 2 was me being grumpy because it was Halloween, but I had class from 6-9PM and couldn't do anything fun.  
We didn't even get trick or treaters.
That pink sweater is becoming my favorite Winter item though.  
It's too big and really soft and lovely.   

Day 3 was somewhat exhausting, but in a good way.  
My household is one of introverts, so we aren't great at crowds or entertaining friends for long periods of time, even when we'd really like to do so.  
This day was me entertaining a couple friends I hadn't seen in a long time, followed by going to a loud bar to meet two of my knight's old friends.  
So.  Yeah.
The outfit was dark jeans and a neat, oddly warm top with lots of sparkly things.  I had to push up the sleeves because they are only 3/4 length and it was driving me crazy. 

Day 4...  Why did I look so unhappy?  
I had my gore pants on...  Invader Zim shirt... Comfy hoodie...
I remember.  Headache.  Headache and utter fear of my then upcoming half hour solo presentation.    
This entire semester has been utterly insane. 


Day 5 involved a Batgirl shirt and plaid pants that were given to me when a friend hit puberty and couldn't fit in them anymore. Conveniently, I'm about the size of a child.
No shoes because screw it.   

Day 6 during the day was just jeans and a black tee, since I was going to be meeting with my advisor at some point.  She had a puppy in the room because he was training to be a therapy dog.  Also, my advisor is really nice and helpful, which is new for me.  
The hanging pants are my workout pants.  ...Actually, I reversed the color of them somehow.  (Shows how often I actually workout...)  
Hitting the gym as though I’m healthy!  Yay!

Day 7 was drawn really super tiny before it was scanned in.  I have no excuse for this fact. 
Trigun shirt and blue jeans. 

Day 8! Again, full of angst. 
Again, angsty because of the half hour presentation.
On the bright side, that sweater is comfy.   

Day 9 was presentation day.  I was terrified, but I did my best to pretend I wasn't.  The teacher had a lot of discussion points and I'm still not sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.  
Was she trying to correct me?  It was mostly clarification purposes... Was I not clear?  
Does she just respect me enough to want a discourse?  
Am I going to fail?  
Questions?   

Day 10 and the drawing looks nothing like the actual top.  
The top is silky and has red, grey, and pink flowers, but it's much less simplistic.  
It ties in the back and the grey part over the cleavage is a separate under shirt, needed for obvious reasons.
The choker necklace has the sign for Scorpio. 
My clutch there is awesome because it not only has my cards, cash, whatever, but it also fits my epi-pen and chapstick. 
...The epi-pen is a little more important than the chapstick.      

Day 11 was a day I did not leave the house.  At all.  
Wore my “Cry baby” shirt and drank tea from one of my tiki mugs.
My chair (from my knight's sister) is actually much more awesome than what I drew. 

Aaaand day 12, which was today.  
Again, I'll be doing this for 30 days, but I figured I'd stop and do a post here because today was a convention and I wanted to mention that I went.  
The comic I worked on wasn't quite ready to show yet, but it'll be at the next one!  
Here, I'm dressed as Cassie Hack from Hack/Slash.  

My knight was dressed as Vlad, so he bought a plain mask, I built Vlad's mask on top of it...

and then my knight painted it. 

That's my lap.  

We didn't stay long at at this convention just because the three of us (the other one was Deadpool, by the way) were all kind of peopled out by the time we got there.  

Still, we saw some friends, looked at a lot of stuff, and managed not to buy anything. 
I also learned that in or out of costume I'm terrible at recognizing anyone I know.  

I can tell what character he or she may be dressed as, but I won't know where I know the person him or herself from, let alone his or her name.  
I'm memorable, as are the other two of this household, so this can be an issue. 

Last time we went to this convention was memorable due to 11 leftover House of the Dead credits someone had walked away from while playing.  

Knight and I took over. 

Turns out that my aim isn't bad, but I'll automatically shoot anything that moves.  
As I result I one shot...  

...two of the scientists. 

BUT I killed a lot of zombies too.  

Greater good and all that, right? 



Sunday, October 27, 2013

Pumpkins in Warm Weather



Another super photo heavy post...
Remember this guy?
 See, we carved pumpkins: 
 My Knight's was like a bat from Adventure Time, which is adorable and wonderful.
 Mine was super happy!
 See?  So happy. 
 Thing is though, it's been really hot for Autumn.  
 So, while a Jack O' Lantern would normally last a while...
 This year...
 Not so much. 
 First it was just some dental problems... 
 But it quickly went down hill from there. 
 My Knight compared his to Michael Jackson.
 While mine...
 Oh.
 Oh dear lord.
Nope.