surrender your worst intentions

Life is good. I guess that’s why feeling stressed out or down doesn’t make sense to me right now. Or it didn’t until I stopped picking things apart, dissecting, blaming different general reasons. It was all a lot more simple than that.

Ponder, for a moment, the phrase “creature of habit”. It conjures up all different things for different people. For some people it’s an image of stuffy boring people locked in to schedules and fixed lives day in and day out. For me, it’s… Well it’s me.

I need SOME structure in my life. [Not need but I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing much without some format there.] But I also need freedom. At the same time I like patterns but not exact patterns. More like scatter plots. I am happiest when my life is a scatter plot. I can find my line of best fit and trust that most things will coast along side it without too much deviation, but at the same time constantly changing its position on the graph, moving up or down and left or right. [Analogies…]

Lately things in my life aren’t scatter plotting correctly. They’re not even sine curving or parabola-ing. I’m not even sure that they’re on my part of the graph anymore. Things are shooting off in to infinity.

A lot of it is good. Good ideas. New plans like for our backyard patio, putting a pond in to my garden, building forts, road trips, and getting things done. Other stuff is getting better. And some of it isn’t good. Yin and yang. Good and evil. Light and dark. Balance. Moving on…

Despite the good out-weighing the evil [I haven’t given it any extensive thought yet but I’m fairly certain the good things are out-numbering the bad by a fair amount] it’s still a lot of changes. Change is the only constant in life which, I think, if part of why I like when little things are constantly re-tweaking themselves in tiny ways few other people notice. But when big things come, even if they’re good things, they feel overwhelming. I start to feel like I’m spiraling out of control and I’ll never get anything done which makes it a lot harder to start.

I feel out of balance. I’m a libra, a scale. If you don’t believe in astrology, that’s fine, but it doesn’t change the fact that I seek balance in my life [even though that balance isn’t necessarily a 50-50 split or along the same contrasting lines as for other people, like work and play are]. All the changing stuff leaves me grasping on to the fragments of unchanged things or of the past and choking the life out of it.

It’s hard for me not to fixated a little and obsess a little and fret and fuss right now. This used to be how I lived day to day anyways back when I was a high strung angst monster. Now I’m laid back and I’ve changed a lot but this… I don’t know. The way things are now is new in its own rite.

I feel like I’ve lost my anchor. I’m having trouble finding something to hold on to. The things I think I do have increasingly feel like they’re slipping away and so I’m sitting around with ridiculous hopes and expectations and reaching out for reassurance that these things I depend on and that I think I know are true aren’t going to leave.

O ye of little faith. I know. I have no business questioning half of what my mind has been on their respective levels.

I guess everyone… No. I guess I like having reassurance once in a while. I like hearing things are the way I perceive them. I like being told it’s gonna be okay [but only when the person saying it means it… I don’t like lies].

Maybe that’s why I’m flakey lately one minute and then overly girly and clingy and odd the next. Callous defense mechanism to reaching out in the most estrogen driven, annoying and destructive of ways. I don’t wanna do that and lose what I have. That’s how stuff like that happens. At the same time I’m finding it hard to let go and just keep faith in these things I think I know.

I’m trying though and constantly reminding myself of the little good things that can’t be wrong like the fact that is IS spring, or the fact that my crocuses are poking their heads up through the dead grass.

Maybe most other things are sort of sketchy and unknown. Stuff that felt certain, emotions, people… It’s all starting to feel foreign and strange and wrong. The cynical part of my brain is trying to insert itself there and cut me off from depending on anyone or anything I know and the conscious part is reaching out to everyone to hold on to bonds my inner cynacist [too bad that’s not a real word] won’t be able to break through.

It sounds crazy and schitzy and maybe, just maybe, it is. On the other hand maybe I’m not the only person who feels like that.

Nothing little is over rated. It’s that whole “no act of kindness, no matter how small, goes unnoticed” thing coming in to play.

I don’t know about the rest of the human race but most of my favorite memories or happiest little moments were just small things. Little cutesy considerate things. The kind of things that no one ever thinks twice about. They make all the difference. Thoughtful stuff.

I’m one to talk about any of that considering how thoughtless I’ve felt off and on lately. And probably been too. So maybe little things only mean anything to me. But sometimes those are the only things I’ve got to hold on to in my head and in my heart when things like spring and the flowers just aren’t quite enough.

That’s often bitter sweet but it’s getting better every day. Eventually this will all settle out into a pattern again. Spring is here. The circumstances of my life are better than they have been for a long time in the ways most important to me. Sooner or later all of that has to pan back out into that constant puddle of obnoxious joy my life was before.

Even my optimism sounds forced.

I just want a better handle on what’s real, and on who’s real, and on what’s here, and on what I can count on.

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