Lyric

Unstable

Well, I don't claim to be ultimately selfless.

As objectively as possible, I try to figure out, why I react the way I react to certain situations. I try to because sometimes, my reactions bring about immediate results that I am not happy about. So to avoid getting those immediate results the next time a similar situation arises, I will have to react in a different manner. To react differently, I will have to know why I react thus, so I can consciously control the way I respond.

-I don't think I can control the way I react, not unless it's through gradual conformation. You can't control the sudden surge of unhappiness, or anger, or joy in your heart when something happens. But you can control the way you respond, if you are conscious of it.

So I'd been burned before. There are a few times when I'd cared so much about people that I messed myself up.

-I do know the difference between caring about people, and caring about what people think about me. Both causes me to be a nice human being, the only difference is that for the first, you're definitely nice inside, the variable's the outside niceness. For the second, you're definitely nice outside, but the niceness inside is questionable.

My thinking-too-much pattern concerning this goes a little like...:

I want that person to be happy. What can I do to make that person happy? Will it be enough? Or will it make things worse? What if that person becomes happy, but only for a short while? What if what I do causes long term harm? How would I know what is truly good and truly bad? What if what I see as harm is actually good? I am thinking too much; I'm not God. Maybe I should just let go. But then it'll seem as though I don't care. People won't like knowing that others don't care about them. That won't be a good thing. But if I hang on too much, people won't like it either. Where's the balance?

Where is the balance, for crying out loud.

-I feel so pathetic at times, and reaching a threshold, so that I don't descend into absolute misery, my mentality does a rebound and I find myself being, in short, narcissistic. This doesn't take long to fizzle out, and around here, when I'm blessed enough, I reach a state of equilibrium. This doesn't take long to fizzle out either. Something happens, someone says something, or doesn't say something, or maybe just a weird chemical imbalance inside the brain, and I'm back to the adjective pathetic.

I pride myself, or perhaps I used to, on being able to let go.

If you ask me if I need you, the answer is, no. You can walk out of my life tomorrow, find someone new and my life would go on. I won’t die without you. But if you’re asking if I want you to be a part of my life, the answer is, yes. I can’t even deny it.

(via sierraa)

Let go, life goes on, life happens, keep hold on, move forwards, we all know the drill. A very useful drill, especially in keeping us alive, literally.

-And I think I'd been drilled to death. I didn't have it bad, but I didn't have it too good either, back in the days. My memory of myself when I was a kid consists largely of lonely wanderings. I never resented this, but being alone for too long makes you lose touch, y'know? Makes you behave inappropriately when you actually have to start interacting with other human beings. I had been a hermit enough to make many mistakes when dealing with people, but not isolated enough to be unaffected.

Who likes being unhappy? Naturally, I allowed myself to be drilled into staying happy. Miseries incubate, hatch and thanks to inspiring songs, happy messages, food and love, these things die pretty soon after. At least, some of them do; I suspect that some are still lurking about in there.

And so I am, or I think I am, this girl who has the amazing ability to let regrets, grudges and unhappiness slide off her back. The side-effects are that I tend to forget things too easily, and also I have been accused of being unconcerned about things.

Not to mention the emotional stress I get as a by-product of compressing every slab of negativity into practically nothingness. These processes are extremely tiring. I won't be able to get through them by my willpower alone (God knows how weak this girl's willpower is). I get through them because I believe I have to, much like a defense mechanism. When someone slaps you, your eyes automatically shuts. I have to make conscious efforts, but in a sense these efforts are automatic because I don't know where else I can go to avoid spiraling downwards to stupidity and doom.




xxx

I feel like I'm dramatizing everything. A moment ago it felt so real, and now I'm thinking, what a drama queen. See this? See how unpredictable, unreliable I am? I don't trust myself, I barely do. So I have to let go, or I know I'll crash. I don't even know for sure if I'll crash if I don't let things go, that's how ridiculously insecure I am.

I'd crashed four times this year. I simply did not have the strength to overcome myself. And part of the blame I thrust on music. I shouldn't have allowed myself to listen too much to that. It lifts spirits, it breaks them too.



So far, what I see above are lines of uncertainty, contradiction, justification. I dislike myself so much right now. I don't know.

I don't know. I really don't. What don't I know? Too many things. So maybe, instead, I should be asking, what do I really, truly know?

I know God loves me.

That's about it.

Scenarios run through my head. Not a lot; they can't, remember what kind of a girl I am? I throw them out quickly, but they come back again and again, I know. Bad scenarios.

Scenarios that make me remind myself, hey, you're a strong girl, remember? If that happens, you'll get through it. You have God. You'll be able to treasure & at the same time, release. Sure, it'll hurt like hell for the first few days, but time heals, God heals, you'll be alright.

The thing is, you can apply principles you're used to and put into practice the drills you'd went through only on situations that are similar. A seasoned firefighter would still be utterly lost in the battlefield; fighting fires are dissimilar to flying bullets and sentient enemies. Train a thousand times at something and be perfect at it; it still might be useless in a different setting.

So, again, I don't know how I'd react or respond if certain things get flung my way. Life would go on? I wouldn't die? Statements like those are magnets for irony.

A sudden burst of... something positive, just calmed me down. Time to do that compression thingy, Carmelia. Stop overthinking, for heaven's sake, this is complicated enough.

Gladly. It's nice to get direct commands when all suggestions are going in stupid different directions.




Signed, Carmelia.


Feeling, tired.
Thinking, everything will be fine.