Inside a Girl

Sometimes, usually late at night while lying in bed, overwhelmed by thoughts & just wanting to go to sleep, I wonder if I'm crazy. If there's something seriously fucked up in my head. There is always a clear & definite path to this type of thinking. Something's gone wrong during the day, or I'm worrying about something that I've said or done, how it's been perceived, or I'm feeling like a complete & utter fucking failure. I go over the events of the day, turn whatever I've said or whatever I'm feeling over & over a hundred times, analyze it from every angle, analyze it to death. Then I think about what it means in relation to my life. How there are so many patterns. Then, ultimately, I think about every moment in my life that has made me feel bad about myself. I bring those moments back up. I analyze them again. I feel regret, shame, guilt. I worry. I beat myself up. I think about people who live with no apologies. I wonder why I can't be like that, why I keep myself from living like that.

Sometimes I just feel like such a burden. Like my friendship or love isn't enough, that I'm not enough. And I feel like such a complete failure. Rarely do I admit these feelings. Instead I hoard them up inside myself, let them eat at me until, inevitably, they manifest as one of my funks. Of course, I often write my funks off as just being "The Dude" for a day, a weekend, a week, a month. I want to wear pajamas & a pink bathrobe 24-7. I don't want to put on make-up. I don't comb my hair until it becomes absolutely necessary. And I swing from project to project, never completing one or completing many only half-assed, waiting for something, anything to awaken the creativity inside me, to set me on fire, to feel absolute burning passion if only for 30 minutes or 5 minutes.

That cycle has many times brought the term 'manic depressive' or 'bipolar' into my little train of thoughts.

I guess what I'm wondering is if everyone else feels this way from time to time. If it's just part of the human condition or a product of the way our lives are these days--rushed, hurried, with a nagging need to create something spectacular or be spectacular. Then I wonder too, is this just the way of an artist or a poet or anyone who creates. Are all these questions, cycles a product of the way I see the world. How I can become so furious in one moment & find myself in tears the next & then be just overwhelmed something simple & beautiful.

It's always been easy for me to put myself in someone else's shoes, to step into their life for a moment & imagine how I would feel, who I would be if I were in their position. I accredit my sense of empathy & understanding of people to that. But sometimes I worry, what if I have it all wrong? Maybe I don't know anything about this life, about people, about myself.

The truth is, I have no idea where I'm headed. I'm so caught up in living in the moment & for now that I don't plan for the future. And that sometimes leaves me feeling very stagnant & stuck.

I'm feeling that right now. My head is just overwhelmed with so many things that I need to do, that I should do.

Yesterday I went to Rite Aid because Rite Aid is sometimes my salvation. I purchased beauty products cause that's what I do when I'm feeling kind of blah. A micro dermabrasion kit & other items that will probably be used for a while then discarded. When I came home I decided to step on the scales & see just exactly where I am. I'm exactly where I was this time last year. And that just sent me into a whirlwind of emotion & self-loathing. And validated that 'you're so fucking pathetic' feeling that was already kind of eating at me. So I'm still stuck with that feeling today.

On top of this, I've been thinking about opening up a cafe press shop & submitting some poems to online poetry zines that seem to be geared toward the type of poems I write. The cafe press shop idea came from Dave. I could self-publish a small chapbook of poems & possibly offer some of my paintings as prints. I'm weighing the pros & cons out in my head. If self-publishing is a good idea. If submitting poems is a good idea. If they're even worthy to be read, because that idea is always in the back of my head. I feel that way toward anything that I create. I feel like it's okay, but a few steps away from being good. So I'm tossing that over.

There's also the idea of breast reduction in the back of my head.

When I began my me kick last year & began eating healthier, the goal was to reach an ideal weight so that my decision to do it or not would be easier. In June, when I had dropped 20 lbs. my bras were fitting perfectly for the first time in my life. Now, they're not fitting again. I'm bulging & have gone up a cup size.

For some people the decision might be an easy one. I don't think it will be for me. There are so many questions to be answered & so many things to think about. When I had my gall bladder removed, I woke up from the anesthesia weeping uncontrollably & just mourning. Still high, I told Beverley "I don't think I could ever have a hysterectomy." I grieved over a gallbladder! How emotional would I be having of my boobs partially removed? I asked two ladies the other day who've had the procedure if it made them feel any differently about themselves. I didn't really get an answer. But they were happier. I wonder though, how it would affect my self-image. If I would feel as though part of my identity was gone. For years I've been the girl with the big boobs. That's impacted my self-worth negatively & positively. When you hear a cross-dresser say 'I'd love to have those boobs.', you feel a little flattered. Of course when that same cross-dresser brings you a catalogue of bras for bigger women & you have to say, 'Honey, I know you meant well, but my size isn't in there.', you end up feeling like some abnormal being who should probably occupy a booth between the bearded lady & the man with lobster claws instead of hands.

There are just so many issues & this is a topic I could probably write about forever. But Cody is up from his nap & staring at me as I type.

(to be continued....maybe.)