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Apr. 21st, 2008 12:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sorcyressSo. I am, to quote myself, gloriously insane.
Normally, there is a disconnect between my mentalspace and my reality. It's generally not huge, currently the only differences between r!Sor and m!Sor are that her hair is brushed and mine isn't1
But last night, we got a bit more of a disconnect, simply because I was doing the whole crying thing. Only my roomie was in, so the r!self was being very very careful to cry as little as possible (And Grace still noticed, damn her caring hide...*smiles*) while m!self was mostly curled in a little ball on the floor of the lounge.
Eventually, I went out for a walk, mostly to visit Magus and use another person to sort out my brainspace2 but at least partially because walking while listening to music is almost obscenely good for me.
So I toss some pretty-voiced melancholy girl music into a playlist (Vienna Teng --just the stuff I had, since I haven't synced Jackie3 with Vera since Ria handed me two CD's of her stuff last night-- 'Sing' by the Dresden Dolls, Falling. One or two other things maybe, for short walks, I really don't go all out.) on my ipod and start waliking.
A song finishes, and as it draws to a close, I stop listening and start thinking. The anthropormization of my insecurities shows up at about this time, and says something -I don't even remember what- incredibly snarky. Depreciating. Evil enough to snap my mental self's fragile control.
This is where it gets weird.
I am standing in reality, not far from the school. It's about one AM, and there's no one else around.
M!self has slammed my insecurities against a wall, hard, and slit her throat. The lounge is dead empty, and she offers me the knife.
I don't think I took it. I just stared at her, and felt everything ebb away. One slash of an abstract's throat and my problems are completely gone. The world feels right again.
I continue my walk, sliding my ipod out of my pocket to adjust the music. Addicted to Bad Ideas, 30/90, Ordinary Day. Play. Hell, I start skipping, running, dancing for no good damn reason. I think I deemed myself, besides gloriously insane, somewhat hysterical, and indeed I must have seemed so. Laughing happily, for no good damn reason, for a horrible reason, I just killed a part of my Self.
But I killed a part that needs to die. She will be back, of course. Maybe even tonight. But for a moment there, my mental self had security, and oh gods, does she need it sometimes.
...Yeah. I am, as they say, gloriously insane.
~Sor
MOOP!
PostScript: It's worth mentioning, I guess, that the whole of last night's misery is Vera's fault. I was putting things away, I must have nudged her without noticing, because when I opened her, the Behind the Walls file was open, compelling me to start writing, thinking, analyzing, examining. Two damn hours --well, not quite (2323-0116) but yeah.
Yeah. I am kinda strange.
1: It's also hugely confusing what pronouns I use, essentially because, when thoughtstreaming, I write primarily in first person, switching between two people (Generally real and mental selves, though it could be argued that they're simply me twice.), and often lapsing into third person in the same way I do in real life, to add emphasis to my words ('she said in explanation')
2: hey, hey, hey, Kat? There are lots of people willing to let you cry on their shoulder, 'k? Most of them were online last night. Or, in Maddie and Ria's cases, just a phone call away. Find the damn strength to get help when you need it, not after two damn hours. Fucker.
3: Jackie = Jacqulynn Hyde, my ipod. She's a damn good girl. *smiles*
Normally, there is a disconnect between my mentalspace and my reality. It's generally not huge, currently the only differences between r!Sor and m!Sor are that her hair is brushed and mine isn't1
But last night, we got a bit more of a disconnect, simply because I was doing the whole crying thing. Only my roomie was in, so the r!self was being very very careful to cry as little as possible (And Grace still noticed, damn her caring hide...*smiles*) while m!self was mostly curled in a little ball on the floor of the lounge.
Eventually, I went out for a walk, mostly to visit Magus and use another person to sort out my brainspace2 but at least partially because walking while listening to music is almost obscenely good for me.
So I toss some pretty-voiced melancholy girl music into a playlist (Vienna Teng --just the stuff I had, since I haven't synced Jackie3 with Vera since Ria handed me two CD's of her stuff last night-- 'Sing' by the Dresden Dolls, Falling. One or two other things maybe, for short walks, I really don't go all out.) on my ipod and start waliking.
A song finishes, and as it draws to a close, I stop listening and start thinking. The anthropormization of my insecurities shows up at about this time, and says something -I don't even remember what- incredibly snarky. Depreciating. Evil enough to snap my mental self's fragile control.
This is where it gets weird.
I am standing in reality, not far from the school. It's about one AM, and there's no one else around.
M!self has slammed my insecurities against a wall, hard, and slit her throat. The lounge is dead empty, and she offers me the knife.
I don't think I took it. I just stared at her, and felt everything ebb away. One slash of an abstract's throat and my problems are completely gone. The world feels right again.
I continue my walk, sliding my ipod out of my pocket to adjust the music. Addicted to Bad Ideas, 30/90, Ordinary Day. Play. Hell, I start skipping, running, dancing for no good damn reason. I think I deemed myself, besides gloriously insane, somewhat hysterical, and indeed I must have seemed so. Laughing happily, for no good damn reason, for a horrible reason, I just killed a part of my Self.
But I killed a part that needs to die. She will be back, of course. Maybe even tonight. But for a moment there, my mental self had security, and oh gods, does she need it sometimes.
...Yeah. I am, as they say, gloriously insane.
~Sor
MOOP!
PostScript: It's worth mentioning, I guess, that the whole of last night's misery is Vera's fault. I was putting things away, I must have nudged her without noticing, because when I opened her, the Behind the Walls file was open, compelling me to start writing, thinking, analyzing, examining. Two damn hours --well, not quite (2323-0116) but yeah.
Yeah. I am kinda strange.
1: It's also hugely confusing what pronouns I use, essentially because, when thoughtstreaming, I write primarily in first person, switching between two people (Generally real and mental selves, though it could be argued that they're simply me twice.), and often lapsing into third person in the same way I do in real life, to add emphasis to my words ('she said in explanation')
2: hey, hey, hey, Kat? There are lots of people willing to let you cry on their shoulder, 'k? Most of them were online last night. Or, in Maddie and Ria's cases, just a phone call away. Find the damn strength to get help when you need it, not after two damn hours. Fucker.
3: Jackie = Jacqulynn Hyde, my ipod. She's a damn good girl. *smiles*
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on 2008-04-21 05:14 pm (UTC)There must have been something in the air 'cause yesterday i had one of those moments too where i was realizing (when talking with the ever-wonderful Swinger) that i was actually doing a pretty good job of catching & setting aside my neg vox's lies even with all the Bad Stuffnthings going on with Josh! Had a HO-SHIT, i AM Strong Moment! (and loveable as W pointed out ;D)
*poingities*
no subject
on 2008-04-21 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-04-21 11:10 pm (UTC)~Sor
no subject
on 2008-04-21 11:21 pm (UTC)