First emo post. I guess this is officially a real epr0s blog now, Lol! I remember back in my LJ-ing days I mostly posted only when I was down or PO’d, rofl.
——————————————————————————————————————————————–
Today was the first day in a very, very long time where I’ve been made to feel that perhaps I am just simply incompetent and unfit for living.
I’ve been forgetful; extremely so…to the point where it’s not really funny, it’s really kind of pathetic. There are just too many thoughts running through my mind and there comes a time when I can’t remember all of them, so I just focus on one and I forget the others and I don’t even realize.
There was this time this spring break where I went to the kitchen to get a drink and I was talking to someone, and then I approach the fridge and I wondered “Hm, why am I here?” and I opened the freezer and took a look inside and thought to myself “There’s nothing here I’d usually want…why did I walk to the fridge?” and only after asking myself that question did I remember that I wanted a drink.
Then (also during spring break) a friend fb’d a message to me on facebook to take a survey for her. One of the questions was “what age were you in 2000?” (To that effect) and this was literally my thought process:
<hmm..2000…subtract 9 from your current age…you get 11.> And I type down “1″ because I *know* the tens digit had to be “1″ and then while I was thinking “subtract 9″ i type down “9.” I didn’t realize I typed down “19″ instead of “11″ til Sam teased me about being 19 in 2000.
And today – i forgot I had an internship meeting TODAY ( i usually write down my life down on G-calendar cuz I know I can’t keep track of everything in my brain, but I didn’t write it down for…i don’t know why) and I promised Diana I’d be home to do bills and to just have a roommate chat…which I honestly thought I would be free for (i looked at my calendar) . Then this morning I realized I might have a meeting so i checked my emails and lo and behold, I had the internship meeting at 7pm and Diana goes goes to sleep frickin early (9PM) a fact I KNEW, but wasn’t consciously aware of since i’ve been home and haven’t been living with her for a week…so when I realized this I felt like a fucking ass to tell her I wouldn’t be home in time…and she really didn’t look happy.
I didn’t come back to SD to deal with a roommate who’s unhappy with me…oftenly (or at least, it feels that way). I know I’ve disappointed her in many ways (not necessarily just me, the whole apartment…but I’m included) in terms of cleaning-things wise, etc. We’re just such different people and there have been times where I feel like I have to bend-over backwards at the most inconvenient times to please her.
But I can’t quite complain, because she definitely puts in effort to get along with me and the rest of the apartment as well. But I just feel like such a fucking loser – I’m so sick of being just so plain incompetent as a decent human being that I make her unhappy.
And…there’s something pathetic in not being go through a day smoothly, just because you don’t put something your calendar, isn’t it? I have to have my life dictated by my putting events on my calendar, is that it? I hate the thought of being so dependent on this…that I can’t survive unscathed without it.
What is wrong with me?
I think part of why it’s so hard is also because my forgetfulness puts me in a vulnerable position to get teased or made fun of too…and I’m a really sensitive person, so I hate feeling like I’ve been made a fool of in front of people. Or sometimes my forgetfulness makes me appear irresponsible. I don’t like that either…I don’t want people to think that they can’t rely on me…but how can I tell them that when my actions tell them that I’m some irresponsible flake?
It feels like I can’t do things right by myself…it’s such a painful realization.
How will I be when I’m 30 years old? 40? 60? 80? These problems with the way my thoughts work…they’re not going to be any better. I know how I am, so I make lists and I use the calendar on google cuz I know I access the google home page ALL THE TIME and it’s so easy for me to access g-calendar (just anywhere with a comp and internet access) to work as practical solutions to the effect of my problem…but I don’t feel like there’s really a way to fix the way I think.
I kinda told Yichen and Diana a watered-down version of this last night, and Diana just laughed when I wondered aloud about how I’m going to be when I’m 40…I felt she was being condescending…but I could be wrong I guess. I still felt offended inside though.
Throughout growing up, I always mused “thank goodness we don’t live in the same kind of ‘natural selection’ the way the animals do, cuz I never would have survived.” I was aware my instincts were absolutely horrible when I was a little kid (actually, in retrospect, I just overanalyzed things and I’m learning to listen to my instincts now) and as far as I know, I’ve never been physically fit at any stage in my life.
But I had never suspected or felt that maybe I wasn’t good enough to survive in our world (I guess by that I mean the “human” world).
But today I felt that way.
This wasn’t really the way I wanted to start the quarter…
last quarter was full of me being thrown in situations i was unfamilar with and didn’t know wth i was doing (electronics? Programming?)….and I was just SCRAMBLING to get all my academic things in order…and socially-speaking, things with diana were often just figured out through trial-and-error.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt that I could do something right and well. Working for my internship gives me that feeling for a little bit every week…which is why I enjoy the meetings.
But it’d be nice to not suck so much in other aspects of my life too.
Yeah.
Ah Angry Eggplant. I <3 you. I hate drawing myself, so you’re quite a guardian angel…given the fact that artists are often asked to draw a something to represent themselves. You look nothing like me, you don’t stand for anything, there are no real social connotations associated with eggplants (well, only insignificant ones) and thus you are PERFECT. POI-FECT.
