Funk
I hate posts about why people aren't posting. Oh, but you know what I hate even more than that? Posts about how the blogger promises to start posting more often, every day even, very soon. It's always bullshit. So in relation to my blog, what I have to say about my posting is, I'll post sometimes. And some of those times? They will be more frequent than some other times.
I have been in a funk lately. I am not happy. I feel disorganized all the time. I feel, not only misunderstood, but like nobody cares to understand. I feel critiqued. I am not appreciative of what I have. I am jealous of everyone else.
Last night I had a dream my father died. And then I was supposed to go see my shrink who I hated (who hated me but liked the money) the next morning to talk about it, and my whole family was there. When we went to walk up the long staircase to the shrink's office my father tapped me on the shoulder to let me see everyone was gathering in a circle at the bottom of the stairs. Yes, even though he was dead. I was the last person to get down the stairs and when I got there, there were only the shitty, metal folding chairs left and I was pissed because *I* was the real patient so I felt one of the comfy chairs should have been left for me.
Everyone had notebooks on their laps and were taking notes. My grandparents were there. Even my grandmother who has been dead over a dozen years. And when my grandpa tried to say, "We miss him so much," I snorted and asked why he always treated him like such shit when he was alive. Then I walked out because this was not therapy the way it was supposed to be, and not the way I wanted to process my feelings surrounding my father's death.
So I went to take my biology final, but instead of sitting down to take the test, I walked up to the teacher and said, "Look, let's just save ourselves time. We both know I failed the class, and that I haven't understood a damn thing you've said all semester. I don't know any of the answers on your test. Just give me the F."
In real life, a friend told me that when I talk about my parents, I talk about them like they're dead. And that is a bit upsetting to me, and probably to them too (and that is reason 582 why parents should not read their children's blogs). I bet a shrink would have a field day with that.
I have been in a funk lately. I am not happy. I feel disorganized all the time. I feel, not only misunderstood, but like nobody cares to understand. I feel critiqued. I am not appreciative of what I have. I am jealous of everyone else.
Last night I had a dream my father died. And then I was supposed to go see my shrink who I hated (who hated me but liked the money) the next morning to talk about it, and my whole family was there. When we went to walk up the long staircase to the shrink's office my father tapped me on the shoulder to let me see everyone was gathering in a circle at the bottom of the stairs. Yes, even though he was dead. I was the last person to get down the stairs and when I got there, there were only the shitty, metal folding chairs left and I was pissed because *I* was the real patient so I felt one of the comfy chairs should have been left for me.
Everyone had notebooks on their laps and were taking notes. My grandparents were there. Even my grandmother who has been dead over a dozen years. And when my grandpa tried to say, "We miss him so much," I snorted and asked why he always treated him like such shit when he was alive. Then I walked out because this was not therapy the way it was supposed to be, and not the way I wanted to process my feelings surrounding my father's death.
So I went to take my biology final, but instead of sitting down to take the test, I walked up to the teacher and said, "Look, let's just save ourselves time. We both know I failed the class, and that I haven't understood a damn thing you've said all semester. I don't know any of the answers on your test. Just give me the F."
In real life, a friend told me that when I talk about my parents, I talk about them like they're dead. And that is a bit upsetting to me, and probably to them too (and that is reason 582 why parents should not read their children's blogs). I bet a shrink would have a field day with that.
Labels: A Lonely Jew, Cash Flow, Fantasy, I'm Hurt, Personally, Potential Depth, Rage Against the Green
posted by Green at 3/10/2008 10:35:00 AM
4 Comments:
I would say that dream and your mood MIGHT mean that you are not happy with your accomplishments in life thus far. You are making okay money but not happy at your work. And you may feel like you have failed youself and your family's expectations of you.
Just my guess, I used to be pretty good at interpreting dreams. Just my opinion, I hope I did not offend you.
Martee I'm not offended at all. I am definitely not making okay money, but my goal is not to be happy at work - it's to have work pay me enough. I failed myself by the time I was like six, and I'm pretty sure my family adjusted to my failure rate by the time I was graduating from high school. You're right that I'm not happy with my accomplishments, since they really only amount to things like:
1. Avoiding homelessness.
2. Avoiding prison.
3. Avoiding the state looney bin.
Which you know, are not really that impressive.
On the other hand by avoiding those three, you unknowlingly accomplished another, meeting a now deceased brother-in-law who hit the trifecta IN manner of speaking.
Bummer that even your dreams are against you! Shit man, how did you feel the day after? If I dream about dead people ( I know your dead person isn't, technically, dead) I am totally zapped.
You do realize that despite not having met your initial goals, you are ok all the same. Right?
And I actually think those three accomplishments are not to be laughed at. I'm sure many people inadvertantly end up in those positions, and have no idea how they got there.
I really hope you find your way out of the funk soon. It may help when the weather turns, banal as that may be.
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