I'm not sure what I'm trying to keep quiet about; I just seem to be keeping quiet. Right now I once again have that feeling like-jealousy-but-not-quite, where I look at certain other people's lives and wonder why they can have all the things I want, so easily. And to make me more depressed (with myself), I generally don't focus on the important things - like supportive families or close relationships. I tend to notice that they don't have to spend two months saving up the money to buy a DVD or that choosing to attend a concert doesn't mean no other (non-free) thrills for months at a time. I'd hazard a guess that what I really care about are those more important things, but damnit, I care a bit about material shit as well. Mainly, I care about the fact that it's so hard to believe I can have what I want - even basic things, even simple objects - because it's always been so hard for me to get those things. I hate that I start to get excited about the fact that it's fall, (despite the fact that, for the first time I can remember I'm rather sorry to see the end of summer - as a season rather than as the end of a vacation... most probably because being outside in the sun and the water was such a huge, novel liberty for me ... and despite the fact that "the trees are prettier in Wisconsin" is only the tip of the I-lived-there-in-the-fall-and-it's-way-better iceberg) think about how much I love that it's October, the month of Halloween... how last year I "missed" Halloween by driving to Nashville, and afterward realized what a mistake that was (not that I didn't enjoy Nashville) because it's the best holiday "left." Meaning, it's the holiday not screwed up by my parents' divorce or my siblings' individual relocations. And it's loads of spooky fun, and I want to celebrate all month, happily. Which is fine until I think about how it's getting cooler out, and ooh, I just need to buy a few hoodies because pretty much no other piece of clothing compares to the hoody on sheer I'm-wrapped-in-a-blanket quality... except if I want to buy clothes, not only can I not do it now, I cannot do anything else that costs money for weeks on top of weeks. And I hate to say that in a place where people can hear it. I feel like I'm begging, which I'm not; I don't mean this as a ploy for sympathy... I just get sad about it sometimes. Frustrated. Maybe I can try going to movies as one of my next superheroic acts; there's a lot of challenge involved in that - and the reward is pretty high... Except, I can't possibly make a habit out of going to the movies because I don't enjoy it enough for it to be (basically) the only thing I do. I can't afford it. And I suppose I could ask my mom for a slightly higher allowance (I'm 19 fucking years old, and I get an allowance... it's the same as having a bedtime for me: it's something I didn't have when I was a little kid and something I certainly don't feel is right NOW... but whatever, I "can't" work. I put that in quotation marks; I'm not sure why. Either because I don't totally believe it's true or because of how much I don't want it to be) or just for a little extra right now - like the lack of long-sleeves problem would be one she'd understand. And again, there's the issue of I grew out of shit over this past year. My mom isn't stingy by any means; I don't mean to imply that either. And I don't mean to imply that things are really bad... talking about how there isn't food in the house (that's usually an issue of time not money) or I can't have this or that. It's really not bad; it's just hard for me. I get sad about it. I get sad about my dad not being here to contribute, even though we never had money when my parents were together, and even though I can't stand the thought of only going to him for money. Especially considering he doesn't have it either. Geesus. It's so easy to feel greedy when no one around you has enough of anything either. It's so easy to judge yourself for wanting more, when the people you'd go to honestly don't have it. When they sacrifice their own needs and desires already, and it's still not enough. But I've been told a zillion times that growing up in a place where resources were rather limited (time, relational energy, money, everything else) doesn't mean it always has to be that way, and I've been told a zillion times that if I hadn't grown up in this situation, it probably wouldn't even occur to me to feel I'm selfish or need too much. You just have to find some way to justify the fact that you need more and it isn't coming. My way was to decide I shouldn't need more.
And I guess it doesn't help that I really want a job. I mean, not honestly; I know that people would call me an idiot for this because they already have - who on earth wants to work, not in their career field, but just to have a job? I don't really want to stand for extended periods of time or ring up purchases or any of that shit... but I want to be normal. I want to see that I can have as much as I need and even things I want. And like with the idea of learning to take myself to a movie - that's not something I can do easily (in terms of practicality, obviously it's not easy in terms of anxiety)... it's something that would be easier if I had money, from work, but I can't work until I've learned to do the things I'll learn to do through "missions" like movie-going.
Obviously, you can recover from agoraphobia on a budget. (Assuming that someone else is paying your doctor and medication bills.) Obviously, I can face basically every phobia except the ones that deal specifically with money by doing things that don't cost anything. That just brings me back to entitlement issues. I've given an argument now on why I need this, disclaimed it as I really don't *need* it, and am back to the fact that damnit... I want some things. I think people need some of what they want, some of what they don't "need." I know I feel better when I don't feel deprived. I know I feel better when I wear clothes that fit *me*, when the music in my stereo reflects who I am, when everything I see in my room is not something I've had since 1985. And I actually *don't* like the sight of shopping bags or things that are obviously newly purchased... I just... want to be more myself. And there are so many ways in which I can't do that... Money is only one of them. But money is one of them.
The others are the ones that really make a girl crazy. I can't speed this process up at all. I can't have relationships now. I can't live with and near friends. I can't yet be spontaneous, which means I can't go out as easily. I can't be independent, even to a fairly small extent. I can't do the work I want to do, or work that I know is leading me to the work I want to do. I can't go to school. I can't have a (here, now) friend.
(I can't figure out what's causing the knocking noise that is currently freaking me out. I think it's footsteps. Small footsteps. Last night I had a nightmare about squirrels. I think I can be scared of anything given the opportunity.)
Anyway. I'm just sad. Down, depressed, struggling, what-the-hell-have-you. It'll get better; I'll get better... The truth is I just really miss the big things - home, family, friends, fulfilling work... And I can't console myself with material objects. It's fucking unAmerican.
Speaking of which, I read the debate transcript. (Couldn't bring myself to actually watch.) I feel better about Kerry than I did before the debate, even though I was obviously voting for him all along, and even though we still disagree on about a zillion points. I hate the fact that Bush is going to win. (The tactic in my family is to hope as little as possible. I could probably make an effort to change that. But I have to go cry about how here the leaves turn brown in Autumn, while in Wisconsin they turn corn-yellow and fiery orange and wonderful...)
Please God, get the small feet and whatever they're attached to out of my apartment.
Update: God operating by speedy delivery. Feet and rest of rodent returned to the wild. Well, the city's equivalent, anyway. Am going to bed with a (stuffed animal) cat my dad gave me long ago. Am not going to have nightmares.
~me