Inner Dialogues

I am home. Whenever I am in this house, I start having a strange metallic taste in my mouth, and then the most terrible heartburn…ALL the time lately. Someone told me it is from stress. *shrug*
I noticed an interesting thing about myself this weekend. I was in a great mood, high expectations, ready for a nice few days away from “it all.” Then a strange thing happened. We were in Salem Saturday. We got there a bit later than I would have liked, and we ended up NOT having a car to get there like I had originally thought, but that was alright, we got on the bus and headed there. I got a few great things that seemed to jump at me from their shelves and say “You must have me!” Then we had a nice dinner, and began to head to the station to hopefully take the commuter rail back to Boston because it was faster. So we are walking, and I am feeling pretty confident, and still happy, and I recognized most of where we were, and I felt sure I knew how to get to the station. Of coourse, I made a wrong turn after being POSITIVE it was correct. After asking someone, we turned around, and this is when the strange thing occurred. I began to actually notice my “inner dialog.” That is, me speaking with myself about what was going on.
“Dammit, you should have known that.”
‘Well, it HAS been three years since I’ve been here.’
“Well, so? You LIVED here for two months that last time you were here, you shouldn’t have forgotten THAT easily.”
‘But it’s dark, and I just got turned around.’
“Oh, who cares? If you weren’t so stupid, you would have remembered. Now we are going to miss the commuter rail.”
‘Why should we miss it? We have 5 minutes still.’
“Because that’s what ALWAYS happens to you. You ALWAYS miss the bus/train/whatever. Nothing good will EVER happen to you if you keep being such a fucking loser. No wonder no one wants to be around you, you stupid fuck.”
‘OK…you are right. See, there goes the train.’
“I told you. You are damn lucky the bus is late, because it would serve you right to have to stand outside for an hour with these kids until the next one. Craig will never want you to come visit again.”
‘I know. I don’t even think he wants me here now.’
“Of course he doesn’t. He just feels sorry for you. And so do I. Loser.”
‘OK…sorry.’
Yeah. That was it. There’s more, but I don’t feel like typing it all out. The point is, from that point on, I felt a – shift – in my mood. It ruined the entire rest of the night. I couldn’t shake it. What’s more, I don’t think I WANTED to shake it. I think from the second I heard that voice, I felt – relieved. Like “YES, this is the way it is SUPPOSED to be.” Comfortable. In a place I could understand. And it really just fit with the way things happened for the rest of the night, too. I guess my expectations were a bit TOO high. It’s not that it’s Craig’s fault, he was having a creative thing going on (I guess) and he sat at the computer almost all night both Friday and Saturday. At least Friday he still talked to me. Saturday, I just sat there and slept for a bit, and then just vegetated while he stared at the screen nonstop, not only working on his music, but chatting with other people as well. I could have just stayed home with Corey to be around someone like that. [edit]OK, so I am sure that’s pretty unfair, because we did have some great conversations Friday night/Saturday morning, and I received a lot of insights into things that are going on with me, but whenever my inner dialog takes over, my perceptions become skewed to the point where I can hardly tell what is reality, and that is why I withdraw so deeply. And that is just…how I felt…how I still feel to an extent.[/edit] I felt even more unwanted, unseen, isolated, alone, lonely, depressed, a loser, a failure. I left early today because I just couldn’t stand being in the house anymore with those feelings that wouldn’t go away. They followed me here anyway. It didn’t help that on the way home, at the bus station, I went on an eating binge. Sat there and ate myself into a stomach ache with fast food. What the hell difference does it make if I gain more weight, or lose any? No one cares. They STILL won’t like me, or want to be around me, or want to look at me. And I still wouldn’t feel any better about myself. And if I couldn’t get these feelings out here on this screen right now, I would have to go throw myself off a damn bridge somewhere. And I really don’t give a crap what anyone thinks about that. I think I will just go to bed.