I'm high and watching Encanto.
I think I am finally going to break up with my girlfriend soon.
I just might barely have enough money to move out and leave her at least some money for rent.
Plus what's left of my food stamps and maybe some more money next month too purely out of guilt.
Times are tough.
And I do love her. Not in that fly-by-night romantic love kind of way—all heart palpitations and sweat (not that we haven't had that at times)—in fact, I am not really sure what romantic love is or if I am capable of feeling it.
Or maybe not anymore. I've only had three relationships that have lasted more than a year. And two of those women have since left the earth.
So I don't know. Maybe something shut off in me. But this here diary attests to the fact that I struggled the whole time I was in each of these relationships. So maybe it's me.
But that's neither here nor there. That's a future pondering.
Right now is this. Right now it is Casey.
A name I don't believe I have actually typed in here.
That's weird, right?
Partially to protect her privacy, maybe? Probably mostly to keep myself detached.
I was watching Encanto (now paused) and started thinking about myself as a child and how I was so totally surrendered to fate (or God as I called it then). Like in the sense that I didn't think decisions were mine to make. Things just happened and you were supposed to accept it and roll with it.
The notion of "wanting," of choosing what you want and then working to reach that goal, all seemed alien to me somehow.
If you wanted something, you would pray for it and then see if God decided to give it to you (he usually did not). And that was all there was to it.
And I was thinking about that because I was thinking about Encanto and how much I want to travel to South America again and really see it this time. Maybe even live down there somewhere for a while. I thought about how even as a kid all I wanted to do was travel. Even in Bible School, I studied to be a missionary at first before deciding I wanted to be a traveling preacher both in the US and abroad. I wanted to see the world and be with the people and really get to see and feel it all.
But I didn't know how to go about that really and so just prayed for it to happen but instead found myself as the children's pastor for my dad's church which I hated and was horrible at.
Over time, I got (sort of) better at asserting myself and trying to figure out a life that is nourishing. But it's been mostly a slog through poverty and mental illnesses and everyone on the outside of my brain sees me as lazy and listless. But inside my brain, there are big and wonderful and beautiful thoughts and ideas, and plans.
I know what it is that I want.
I do. More than ever.
However, passivity and people-pleasing, and making myself as small as possible are deeply ingrained in me.
I do them naturally whenever someone else is present.
Whatever you want to watch, listen to, eat, do, be, whatever.
In romantic relationships, it is worse. So much worse.
Not only can I not stand conflict. I can't seem to bear it when my person is sad or upset for any reason.
So I am very soothing. Very empathetic. Very enabling.
I make myself so small I'm useless.
But I do love her and care for her and want her to be well.
but...
I want to figure out how to be me again.
This time in a way where I remain solid. I no longer want to bend to another's shape like water.
It's horrible and unfair to both of us. She didn't ask me to be this. I lost the flavor that attracted her in the first place.
I am hoping, praying, that I am able to do this and move on and grow from this experience.
No, no.
I am done with hoping and praying.
It is time to act.
It is time to become.
6:39 p.m. - 2022-08-29
Recent entries:
The Precarity of Poverty - 2023-01-22
Tempted - 2022-12-29
The Guard Shack - 2022-12-18
Not Dead, Just Not Writing Much - 2022-12-14
Still Unbroken Up - 2022-09-20
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