I don't want to get all preemptively combative here, because I'm just trying to let off steam, I'm trying to put stuff out so I can lose it, so it's gone, push that irrationality out the window so I don't have to think about it anymore. Now everyone knows up front. I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to be coddled or comforted. So please, please, please understand: I don't want anyone to try and make me feel better.
There's a substantial amount of comfort to be had in just letting loose. Writing stuff like this to myself, in a diary - I did that for years. But putting it out here on the internet is a much better release, because it's public, now people know. Now it's not an absurd secret that I flip over and over in my head, kneading it to an unrecognizable mass. It's a fact now. It exists.
So much easier to let go of bullshit burdens when you're not the only one that thinks about it, at least in your head. Other people probably think the same thing, but it's inward, isn't it, I can't see their brains. But if I let mine out, and two people read it, there's two people that know my secret.
It's really is not much of a secret anyway, it's not a good secret or an important one. But you know, when you have thoughts that you obsess over, and you let someone know, and then you don't obsess as much? It's like that.
So I'm just warning any readers out there who might care: That's what the next post is going to be about.
...
16 comments:
fuck you. there. you said you didn't want us to coddle you and try to make you feel better. so by saying "fuck you", what happens? damn, woman... you are seriously complicated...
Daisy, now that was funny. That was way better than sentimentality. That wasn't, "oh, don't be so hard on yourself" that was, "Stop being such a bitch."
I need that.
Pretend I just slapped you in the face.
But can I have a hug now?
That's just mean.
I should have written a post like this long ago. I can't stand it when I put shit out there to vent it off and end up getting babied.
Ces't la vie, say it anyway. I might not even comment, but I promise to read.
That would be me -----> I should have written a post like this long ago. I can't stand it when I put shit out there to vent it off and end up getting babied.
Ces't la vie, say it anyway. I might not even comment, but I promise to read.
Cheap. Fucking. Trick.
(And no, I am not referencing the truly righteous band from the late 70s and early 80s. I'm talking about what you've done here.). (But it should be noted that it totally worked on me, and I am a little excited for the next post.)
But my first instinct really was to hug you.
I'm not good at promising I won't care, or write you a ten page email about how much I love you. But i get it. I hate it when I write a post that i genuinely feel so happy about in terms of the writing and in terms of liberating whatever shit load I had built up in me, to get a bunch of advice and crap that makes me feel worse. When it would have made my day if someone had just noticed that I just barfed up part of my soul and gave it to the world to look at - I don't want lamenting, that's not what I'm after. I don't know what I'm after, but advice and sorries definitely aren't it.
I promise not to coddle you or try to make you feel better. I make no promises as to mocking you or pointing and laughing.
So put on your big girl panties and tell us WTF is going on. Because my imagination is working overtime.
Yeah, I think you've managed to preempt any sympathy or coddling on this one. Now get on with it. You've got 24 hours.
how much longer do I have to wait?
Fucking Rassles. I'm drunk as fuck, and catching up is so exactly the big sister slap I need (no, see, I'm grieving, and I'm probably way older than you anyway). Terrified what comes tomorrow.
See, I never let loose. I never kept a diary! But that thing of writing speeches in your head, and they're fucking Lincoln's-2nd-inaugural quality and no one ever hears them?
Yeah, I'm so glad you blog.
Here: We're all allowed to gather our breath. Take your 7/27. I nearly mixed up "allowed" with "aloud."
Also, I totally checked your parenthesis-counting below.
Yeah.
I'm there with you, totally. That's precisely why I blog. Sometimes, I need to let the shit that's inside my head, bothering me, outside of my head to bother other people.
Tease.
Not that I dont like being teased...but I just had to let it be known, that you are in fact a tease. So there.
Mongo:
Ginny: Now that's just embarrassing, because it's not a big deal.
Blues: Yep. Advice and sorries are NOT what I want. It just pisses me off. Why am I such an asshole about people trying to be nice? Fuckers. You know? You know.
Zen: Mockery, pointing, and laughing are all perfectly acceptable responses, and are hereby encouraged.
Franklin: Oh, don't make it seem like it's a big deal. Because it's just a little thing.
Chris: Cool.
Nurse: Done and done.
Erin: You should start a SECRET blog.
LB: Exactly. Let it be their problem.
Sarah: No teasing. Just warning. I'd rather be correct that coddled.
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