Archive for September 18th, 2016

Of Tigers and Feathers – Day 24

I’m spiraling.

Trigger warning for suicidal ideation, possible mention of self-harm (is that redundant or no? I can’t decide) and general morbidity. Also warning for possible rambling.

Grad school started, but that’s a shitshow of a week for another post. Suffice to say that things were bad enough that today when I was worried about my dad’s state of mind and his driving, the not-unwelcome thought of well, if my parents die in a fiery car crash, no one can fault me for not continuing on with grad school totally drifted through.

My father’s second eldest brother drank a cup of pesticide a few weeks ago. I’m still processing. Part of me doesn’t even know how to process.

Because you know what I feel when I think about his trying to off himself? Fuck yeah, affirmation. Someone else thinks that this game is no fun and wants off the loony tunes train. Someone else, someone close(ish), not some rando off the streets who you might know nothing about. Someone who carries your genes and who just might have the same issues you do.

It feels like permission, even as the aftermath that’s left everyone reeling has pretty much fully illustrated the horror that is suicide for all the victims.

So I’m wrestling with that, with oh my god, how can I do that to anyone I claim to love and what if I fail and need lots of care and attention that no one can afford to give, while at the same time thinking but, but that sounds like such a good idea.

On the romance and babies and “normal behavior” front, general crazy has happened, not the least of which is the appearance of a dude who my cousins are throwing at me with all the subtlety of a nuclear war head and about as much mercy. Spoiler: I’m pretty sure he not only isn’t interested, I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m a complete moron.

And it’s hard, so hard, to resist the idea because gods-fucking-dammit it is tempting¬†when things happen like: intense culture shock, lots of humiliation, finding out that you signed up for all the wrong courses and missed the first week of your classes through sheer I-don’t-know-what-nightmare-happened, computer breaking, massive loss of data, and on top of it all, back to back typhoons rock the tiny island you’re perched on.

It is so fucking tempting to just buy into the idea that hey, there is this person who will be there to help, to answer questions, to guide you through this shitshow, and if not able to help, at least to bear witness to your efforts and stand by you, and that will make everything better.

Which, yes, it will probably make things better, but is that even close to a good reason for latching onto the first vaguely-attractive/eligible dude like a limpet?

No, there were no bolts of lightning, no intense need-to-fuck feels, nor were there omg my soulmate is found thoughts. I’m not sure there was even any interest, although gods know I am 1. very bad at picking up when people are interested and 2. so drenched in humiliation and stress the entire time that a tornado could have passed by without note.

I have been kinda-pseudo fantasizing about this guy, but at this point I think it’s just because my brain is going along with the crazy. Because when “go after him! get him! take the brakes off and goooo!” is mentioned whenever anything vaguely intercepting the notion of dating comes up, I figure some conditioning has to occur. By vaguely intercepting, I mean that my cousins have been telling me to invite him to the family Moon Festival barbeque (after knowing him for like 3 days), to ask him instead of them when I needed to know where to find a computer fix-it store, and so on and so forth.

I’m at the point where it’s not funny anymore and I am getting mad when I don’t get support, just a lot of “go get what you need from this dude who for fuck’s sake is probably not interested”.

And the million dollar question of today is: when I think that I shouldn’t saddle someone else with the crazy bundle of flail that is myself, that I should get myself together before attempting to share my life with another because no one deserves to be burdened with the floppet that is me — well, do I deserve to be burdened with myself?

When is it okay to say, I’m a work in progress and you’re a work in progress, and we can proceed together? At what point is one considered good enough for prime time, so to speak?

I honestly don’t even know at this point.