Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Persistent Thoughts

This dark mood persists.

I'm just sitting here, brooding. Will I ever grow out of this bullshit? The week-long self-loathing benders, specifically. Do you just wake up one day, and never again think of yourself as a useless, talentless, futureless, hopeless, plain, fat sack of guts?

Most of the time I really do like myself, but more and more frequently I just keep coming back to this shadowy corner of my mind and stay there for awhile. I know this sounds super needy, but I constantly need reassurance from other people that I'm better than the way I think of myself, and I HATE it. I hate that I have to hear it from other people and sound like an attention whore, and I hate that I can't tell myself these things when I'm having anything less than a great day. I need to hear that I'm funny and smart and pretty and talented, and that need makes me feel low.

My birthday's coming up next week, on the 29th, and I don't even care. I'm not going to do anything fun (well, I will hang out with Max all day, so that's fun), but I wish I was normal enough to do something cool for my birthday. Like have a party. Or go to a bar. Or dancing. But I can't, because even when I do go to places like that, I become so consumed with anxiety that it sucks all the joy out of everything.

I've got very conflicting views. Most of the time I want to stand out, and rise above average, but now I seem to be gravitating more towards this desire to be normal. What went wrong? Why did I stay awkward and weird while everyone else graduated to normal? Rachel's normal. Fuck, even Peter is normal. Why am I the only affected sibling?

This is a very shallow thought, but I know if I lost 20lbs I could love myself all the time. Because even if I grow up talentless and futureless, at least I'll be skinny. As I type this, I can feel decades of feminists shaking their heads at me. Well, fuck them. It would just be nice, okay?

Maybe I'll feel better after a couple hours of sleep.

Monday, June 18, 2012

A Dark Mood

Sometimes I let myself get into these very dark moods. Something mundane always sets it off. A song. A passage in a book. An anxious thought. It sweeps up on me and then I am overcome and it is too late to get out.

Today it was a song called A Penny at a Time, and the chapter in the first of the Anne of Green Gables series. Now I'm sitting here critically looking out over the mountains, the charm of the day gone. I think about my Art History final on Thursday, that I've prepared little for. If I fail, I won't be able to go back to my Fine Arts program in the fall and be with my lovely friends. I should have bought the textbook for that class, but it was $80 and while I suppose I could have afforded it, I didn't want to struggle with the resutling broke-ness that would follow. I don't know what failing will do to me. I just love going to school so much. Really, I don't truly think I'll fail, because I've been to every class and took extensive notes, and I have a knack for pulling through in situations like that, but there's a little dark fear that's constantly shadowing me.

These dark moods always make me think about Yasaman. It's not been quite a year and a half, but she's still always on the edge of my thoughts. Not as sad as before, not as bitter, but still there. She makes me think about my own future death. I know this sounds odd, but it's funny to think that we'll all die some day, isn't it? It's something we try very hard to ignore. However, I think I can comfortably state that I am not afraid of death. The dying part is unnerving, to be concious that you're in the midst of your final minutes. But the death part isn't terrifying to me. You won't be aware of it anyway, so what's to be scared about? Actually, what comforts me the most is how incredibly mundane death and dying is. It's just a process that has been happening for a millenia, and will continue to keep happening after.

What's really important to me aboutmy own death is the way my body is dealt with. Now, as anyone could tell by reading this blog, I am a staunch atheist, so no heaven for me, and even if there is, I don't want to go. Ever since I read about eco-friendly burials, it's been what I've wanted. The whole point is that you will eventually erode within the earth, and become dirt. I think it's wonderful. The way burials happen today pretty much just doom your corpse to become toxic sludge in a cement-lined casket, and that to me is a more abhorrent thought than Hell any day.

As for the envirmonental aspects of this, I'm going to confess that I really couldn't care about that. It's nice that they're so harmless, but that wasn't the selling point for me. I just feel that it's really important for me to "return to the earth". That will be my rebirth. Before, my only worry was the availability of cemeteries that would allow something like this. I know they have special "green" cemeteries scattered around the country, but I worried that they were too far and few between. I don't want to be buried somewhere too far away from those left behind, and I don't think I could bear to be buried anywhere but my Vancouver. Turns out though that Mountain View Cemetery, just over on Fraser Street, is a "hybrid cemetery", meaning as well as conventional burials, they also allow eco-friendly ones. I would have prefered the one closer to the house that I grew up in, Ocean View (I'm sensing a theme here), but I read an article that says more and more cemeteries are beginning to allow the practice, and I don't plan on dying for a very long time, so maybe it will be available to me when I get there.

Morbid food for thought, huh? It just strikes me as a perfectly normal thing to talk about and think about, though. I told Max already, that if I suddenly died, that was the way I wanted to be buried and that he had to make sure my wishes were carried out. I don't think he likes talking about this sort of thing though. Unsurprisingly, not many people do. Oh well.

I feel much better now, though still worried about the exam. Why am I such a dunce? Why can't I ever learn to not leave things to the last minute? Maybe one day I'll grow up for real and be over that.

A Penny at a Time - Matthew Hubert