(I got in! I got in! After sitting on the front porch all morning and knocking, seemingly in vain, I got in! And I dash directly to write...)
Emotion flows like a steady current of water from a faucet.
The unwavering hand of common sense always hovers poised to shut it off when it is ill-placed or excessive, if only we have the will.
But often, instead, we thrust out the trembling finger of fear to plug up the spout to stop the constant stream of water.
The same effect is reached whichever way one goes, right? The stream of emotion is stopped...either way...
But in the latter, the emotion continues to flow. It is only blocked up in the pipes. Where it floods, festers, and molds, until the pipes finally explode from the pressure of repressed emotion...water...
And through that way, more harm and pain come, than through wilfully moving common sense to end the flow altogether.
I don't pretend to say that that is easy though. Not at all. Certainly not as easy as it sounds. Sometimes, our common sense is weak, and more often than not, the spigot to shut off the flow, is very hard to turn. Sometimes, it is almost rusted in place. But to turn the handle is still, obviously, the better choice. Discomfort now, or ruin later? I'd like the former.
Or so I might say. I think often, I do not practice what I preach. I have been choosing the path to the latter.
My emotion flowed unhindered and immoderate. My conscious pinpricked me for this. But I persisted in ignoring and followed the old, faulty mantra "It feels good...it feels right...so it must be ok." Since when do I listen to feelings alone? Since when do I ignore common sense?
I realize that, honestly, a lot lately. I've been steered and driven by my fluctuating emotions in all that I have said and done. And now I regret a lot, and would retract most of what I said. And say things in places where I have thus far, said nothing at all.
I knew I was encouraging things in myself and others, which I should not be.
But I thought it was all in the name of honesty and kindness. I thought I was doing nothing wrong, and maybe, inherently, there was nothing wrong with any thing I did. But in situations as they are, and how things should be, it was wrong. I was terribly foolish and rash.
To make a digressive story short, this morning, my conscious lopped my head off. I finally 'fessed up to myself everything I had done wrong, and how impulsive and emotional I've been lately. Now I am staggering through the remorse of my careless, thoughtless actions. I feel like a fool and I am sure I look and seem one too.
And this lopping off alarmed me and caused me to thrust a finger under the faucet to stem the flow.
When I should be turning the spigot...off...
And when things go awry like this, my impulse is to blame other people. Not usually is that my impulse, only in this situation, because I feel a little silly for giving so much of myself over against my will when I thought I should not have.
I blame them for counselling me out of some of my (acquired) natural habits. I would shout that if I had ignored them and kept to myself, none of this would have happened. I'd be better off under my distant, reserved habits. I'd be better hiding my emotions, and no trouble would come. (But really, are those my natural habits? Or would I just like to believe it to justify myself? Hmmm... the latter sounds flinchingly close...)
But that's wrong on so many levels. I am much better off these days then I would have been if I had stayed aloof (if I ever actually was). The counsel I have recieved so far, has been good and beneficial.
If it had been bad, it would have been my fault for not recognizing that, and for following them blindly.
So it's only a little bitterness that makes me wish to blame people wrongly.
Unfounded altogether.
And I really, scarcely seem to have anything figured out. I am far more in the dark than I thought I was...
So all of this distraught distraction has utterly killed my day. Nothing seems to be going right, which isn't my fault. Something is eating up all our bandwidth and making my computer run incredibly slow, diaryland wasn't working when I desperately needed it to, my floor is a mess and needs to be vaccumed desperately but our vaccum cleaner will not suction up anything, a backlog of kitchen clean up this morning, and when I was shredding some papers which I should never have had in my possession, I shredded them into my clothes hamper instead of my wastebasket. Things which I could have easily brushed off in a good mood, but when I am feeling like a lout, and full of shame and remorse, it's a lot harder to handle when other things go wrong.
And, on top of that, he thinks I'm mad at him. I completely forgot about the email because it was in my yahoo account...I should have at least forwarded it to my gmail account so I'd remember it... but then I haven't moved to talk to him lately, because he's either gone, or I was too busy with other people (HA! What other people?A different him... well counselled her some too I guess...). He said everything he should have said. He said everything right. He was right. I agreed with him. But I forgot to tell him. And then the problem floated away. It wasn't pressing and I was caught up in something else. I was in an ecstatic mood and didn't know anymore how to handle a problem I cared nothing for.
I'm still not talking to him at the moment, as I should be, because... I just don't feel like talking. To anyone. I don't have anything to say to anyone... I don't know what I'm supposed to say to him...I'm far too tired...
Man... I just botch everything lately.
Including a project which I am supposed to be doing...I am never again going to commit myself to something I have utterly no inspiration or drive to do... This project never attracted me, but I took it on anyway. A very, very unwise decision. I am too nice. I allow people to walk all over me...I'm a doormat. I throw myself on the ground and let them wipe the shit off their shoes onto my back.
As he always said to me with a facile, jovial laugh,
"Damn Megan, you're so easy..."
But that doesn't have anything to do with anything I think. It's only the "icing on the cake". Although that isn't sweet. And this is no cake. Unless we speak of one gone soured.
I have even more on my mind, and much that is lighter, but I could not begin to touch that. I have said more than enough for one day. For one entry.