The things that kill you

My whole life I have struggled with keeping on weight.  I would always feel hunger intensely and when I would scramble for food, I would find moments later I would lose interest and leave where I lay this 70% full portion.   I must eat a quarter of what normal Americans do, at that rate.  It’s tough.  It’s tough not because I do not want it but because anxiety claims my body.  It makes the heart flutter uncontrollably and the brow furrow in strained musculature.  It takes me so far from the reality I fight to reclaim.  

 

Tonight, I have not had an easy time circling the bed.  I could barely sit still without wanting to cry or puke.  Last night was a similar story.  I have been off my anxiety and depression meds a few months strong now.  And combined with a full plate of labor before me, I have felt myself more likely circling the drain.  I have slowly been losing ground and the simplest tasks have now become frustratingly impossible.  This anxiety I have ridden to bad places.  It has convinced me I’m dying, because it really does take a toll.  I have never been more than 110 pounds in weight.  I would wager I’m slimmer than 99 at this point.  If my father’s concern for my lost presence is to be warranted.  I am not too far gone, though.  I see what is happening with great clarity even with such tired eyes. 

 

I needed the medication.  I never wanted to need it, and I convinced myself I did not.  But for the time being, my life is too hectic to not have the extra support.  I can’t afford to lose any more ground to the menace of the mind.   So I fight back.  I fight with drugs that counteract the poor wiring up top.  I fight because I have to. 

 

A lot of things can kill you in this world.   To suspect the body attacking itself is a worse nightmare.  But it claims a silent victim no longer.  At least for me.   And tonight I sleep. 

Why did you choose me? Why did you burden me with this choice?

I’m a fish geek girl.  Why are you bothering me with affection?  You know I am not capable by now.  You know I do not know what to do with it.  These are the thoughts that plague me, when I’m left an empty shell of what I should be.  I sincerely wish you happiness.  But I mourn the loss of my own….

It’s raining softly tonight.  I saw two of my suitors, nearly back to back.  I can hardly tell what I’m doing, why I entertain them both in one evening.  Putting on my best smile, trying not to stumble with words.  They are aware of each other.  Neither appears to be perturbed by the other man’s role in my life.  It’s at a standstill.  And all I really want to do much of the time is take care of my fish tanks, and relish a few moments of human interaction.  Maybe the animal is there, too.  I wouldn’t mind showing them.  But my need for human company drives me to this situation.  Where I realize I do not belong with any of them or to any, but that I need one or both simultaneously.  By not belonging, I can accommodate more than one.  At least in an emotional way.  It leaves my emotions drained. I know I’m out to satisfy the lives of others on a temporary basis.  That’s what my life has become.  It makes my life unsatisfactory on some nights.  Other nights, I feel tremendously on top of the world.  I guess not in this instance.  I mostly wonder why I have become a target for lost men of whom I care deeply for.  I want to be what they need.  I struggle to reconcile differences.  I struggle to make myself the woman I know I can be.    For them, but not so much for me. 

The girl inside this body just wants her hobby above all.  It’s the ultimate goal and the ultimate fixation to reach the goals underneath the headline “fish keeping.”  I want to be a master breeder of many species.  I want to model my career around my expertise and passion.  That’s all I know with unfailing confidence.  Confidence in nearly every other area fails.  

This experiment may be poised to make my life a more intense misery than any I could imagine.  I may also exaggerate on behalf of incredible fears.   I don’t know that I can connect with people, truly.  I don’t know how to keep myself from separation. 

The Inclination to Get Caught Up, and a Tendency to Fall

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I must have snapped about a hundred photos of my geckos last night.  It was feeding time.  Well, they demanded to be fed, more like…

I have a cage with a sliding door.  A shallow and decent cage.  The only issue is the infra-red light tampers with picture taking.  As does the immediate pupil response to flash.  Leopard geckos look most impeccable when the pupils are wide as the moon.  But a quick flash and their puppy dog eyes become saurian very fast.  I forget they are reptiles, to be honest.  I feel so much that they are speaking to me with a flick of the tail, lifted but full and wagging and…happy?  They seem what a person would call happy.  Besides the obvious presence of a smirking mouth shape.  I cannot bear it.  I cannot stand there and not snap a billion pictures and show every person I know.  That’s how my passion in life goes.  If I love something, you must love it, too.  I am convinced.  I am convinced I am the best advocate of my loves.  And I must display my steadfast dedication at the ready.  Without prompting.  It’s not hard, rather effortless.  It is my specialty.  I specialize in getting caught up, with damn near everything.

 

When you are molded into a life of observation, those observations become you.  I think that is the truth.  What I have seen has taught me much.  It has gripped my attention in the darkest of hours.  It has consumed my previously unremarkable life.  At birth, we can only be assumed unremarkable. We are amazingly alive.  But we have shoes to fill.  We have a thirst for the world.   We have a journey to embark.  It’s never-ending.  It is ever-present.  It is what makes us connect with so much.  And because we are so deliberate in our exploitations, it also causes an inherent degree of destruction.

 

I fall to destruction.  I fall to the degradation of the mind when the mind is so full and so swollen with experiences.  I want more.  I greedily want more.  I snap more pictures.  I will blog of this.  I will make something of this.  It matters.  I matter.  It’s all happening so fast.  And I’m escalating skyward.  This is a finite experience.  Last night I fell a bit to earth.  The swings are so drastically different.  Geckos and beautiful fish out of my mind, I tried to give myself to someone.  My time I offered, what was left of it.  But mid-swing, the tank hit empty.  I had, suddenly, nothing left.  Nothing to give.  I gave it all to my first love.  It gave it all to what I have become caught up with.  What have I for you at this hour?  An empty body, fading in and out.  Like the transitioning reach of radio waves going from one place to another, I’m here and then I’m not.  It’s remarkable.  It’s unreal.   Where did I fade?  To five hours ago?

It could be only five hours ago I was directing much energy to demonstrating a feeling I had for these reptiles.  I gave that the first ration of my attention, that night.

Actually, I worked for nearly 8 hours.  Worked effortlessly and drifted from sales floor to doctoring sick fish and back.  I gave that the very first of what I had for the day.  How cruel that I couldn’t give you more.  How cruel that even as I lay weeping inside, I want to go back to them.  It matters not who you are.  It matters that they are me.  They are a part of me, for I have observed them so long and become built of their moments in my life. I am only half-human.  The other half is the wonder that transcends survival.

 

I feel as though I cannot belong to anything else.  I am caught up and I fall lifeless for I give it all, some days.  If I had my way, every day.  I’m split.  I work to become whole when the two parts of me reconcile their differences.  The part that lives for human comforts and the part that lives to serve those comforts as they live and breathe.

 

Still.  I look forward to getting caught up again.  I want to find the current and let it push me to higher places.  Further places.  I want to be there.

I want to also be there for them.

Connections ever-lasting, Happiness fleeting?

A special connection sits in my being for all individuals I have shared life’s moments with. I treasure them all, in a unique and separate way.  My mind has filled with wonder for them on and off and over the years, suitors and friends alike.  Monogamy is a hard thing to establish the more you add names to that list.  The more names and faces that spark feelings in you, the worse off your budding relationship, whatever the circumstances.  This is true across all genders, and all life stages.  Me, well…I have known this for years.  But I feel today to put it in words.  It is the season of summer flings.  It is the time when amorous feelings kick into overdrive.  It is the time when contemplation goes out the door for fun in the sun.   May I offer you a post steeped in the wisdom of a 21 year old?  Ha, too bad.  I speak whether I am wanted to or not.

 

The root of all problems, then, is the deep desire we have for exclusivity.  We want to be the sole mate (or soul mate, whichever) for the one who inspires amorous feelings.  This becomes problematic when we realize the world is a big bowl of people living shoulder to shoulder.  All interacting and bonding daily.  We have no control.  We must trust.  We trust that we are bonded with a person completely and exclusively.  But none are immune to temptation.  None can shake the feelings of an ex lover entirely.  It haunts their dreams.  It offers comparison when comparison is not needed or invited.  It can make you unsatisfied when you should be happier than anything.  Once a connection has been written with someone on the code that is our memory, it doesn’t fade.  It sits waiting to be rewritten.  Or reread.  Whichever.  So happiness can occur, but if enough faces visit from the past, you may find it fleeting.  I do, sometimes.  People I know complain of this much without really realizing it.  We are not to be exclusive unless every other person has failed you or him or her.  We are not able to exist without temptation or competition.  I know I feel downright competitive.  It’s the law of nature, after all.

 

I sip some iced tea.  I know this life is just a funny game of people joining or leaving the cast of characters in a sped up manner.  It happens over and over.  The final cast is not to be achieved.  Only when we breathe our last breath  can we know that we have known all there was to know.  So every happy moment is meant to be replaced.  It is meant to end.  Maybe that’s the beauty of it.  Maybe beauty lives in instability.  I can see it.  I can see how fleeting happiness is the way.  For when we see it again, we appreciate it in a new light.  Ever-growing.

 

Or maybe we remember the light that was.  And try to swim backwards from the abyssal dive.

 

If I opt to be happy, it really isn’t up to me.  It is up to the collaboration of my cast in all areas of my life to feign stability for as long as necessary.  It is up to a great culmination of events to reach that new light.

 

To say if it was meant to be, it will be…..

Is to embrace the chaotic intermingling of life’s pawns.  And I like that just fine.

 

 

Motivational or Momentary?

Today started off well for the fish geek.  I woke up on time, got to work on time, and then also found myself highly proficient in multitasking.  It could be I’m on the verge of good changes in my life.  It could have been the addition of breakfast to my routine.  It could also be I’m too happy to write off every waking hour to something I’m physically unable to fulfill.  But damn it looks good on paper.  And I think my life is pretty well made these days when I peer at my to-do list and marvel at how busy I truly am.  I truly should be, anyways.  I am prone to breaking down.  At least, for today I felt more motivation than I have in a while.  It’s something to hold on to, and a feeling too easily shaken.  It was a moment, but I hope progress to be more steady than momentary.

I want to manage money better.  It is a skill to be earned, and not earned without struggle.  For earning is to gain after trial.  I haven’t had a great history with finances. That said, my hole I have dug is not far deep.  It’s manageable.  And management is key in every contour of my life.  From fish to work to nutrition and more.  Staying on top of things is the ultimate prize in the industrialized world.  I have much at my fingertips, so I best put in the work.  My first goal is setting a realistic budget.  One that can effectively eliminate my debt.  But then, Aquabid comes up on my browser in all of its glory.  Did I need that species of Xiphophorus?  probably not.  I probably fucked up my budget for the rest of the month that just barely is.   Such is the turmoil of fish addiction.

I plan to put on a garage sale.  I think it very fun to put such an event on.  It brings in a little cash.  But also creates purpose for items otherwise sitting on shelves or under beds.  Things that need life.  I have lots of things I sit on but if I cannot find adequate use, then my reasons to allow their space taking are nothing more than excuses.  I like to watch parents browse old toys and take home something I had long overlooked for the ultimate stimulation of their child’s mind.  I like to imagine the adventures these possessions will know.  And my cleaner living space will be a greater accomplishment at the end of the day.  Not that I am awful with possessions.  But a closet full of dress up stuff only goes so far…..And I’ve a few broken tanks that can be discarded or given away.  Spring is here, at long last.   And with it the sense of renewal most esteemed.

 

Last motivating factor is to focus my hobby into a streamlined mission.  I like to breed fish, but I need to be doing so in a way that gives back some cash in the end.  Just a little to offset.  Just enough to justify the creation of more animals.  Spring semester at university is about done, and now my mind is out the window and back with the intentions I can find time and energy to nurture.  Theoretically.  If you ignore the amount of hours I just signed away to my other jobs in this world.  I love them all, but I may find something has to give.  For now, I’m on top of the world in the motivational moments that have consumed my brain.  I have drive again.  I put myself in drive.  There is never a doubt of what I’m capable of.  The only doubt is when I will achieve it.  Should the date get pushed back any further, I know I cannot prosper.  I know it’s now that I must act.

Am I motivated, or am I just wishing I was?  Because.  Intentions are just promises that haven’t been kept.