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thoughts and feels and thoughts and feels
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September 2009
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thoughts and feels and thoughts and feels [userpic]
I really hate...

...not understanding what people are telling me, and not being sure whether I should go out on a limb and say what I would say if they were saying what I thought they were saying, and having to come up with something wishy-washy rather than risking saying something really stupid and off-the-wall and potentially hurtful if I don't understand.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

I've realized that I don't put a lot of my negative emotion here. I think I probably should start doing that. I've really never hung my sadnesses out to air, generally keeping them to myself or to just a few people (and if you haven't noticed that, you're probably one of the few.) It might be interesting. For a while.
I mean, maybe part of the reason I stay so grouchy is because very few people ever tell me ...Hey, it's going to be okay, take some breaths, chill, and it'll be better in the morning... or even ...I had a problem like that once, maybe you could do this...
And a lot of that's probably because no one realizes I'm *having* problems, 'cos I don't tell them, and I'm always so busy pretending I don't have problems, no one notices I'm pretending, 'cos I'm ALWAYS doing it... 'cos I don't want people to think I'm whiny, or bitchy, or clinical, or... anything other than my cheery invincible self, I guess.
Well, forget that. Being invincible has gotten me in way the hell over my head, and frankly, right now I feel like I'll be lucky to get out alive. I'm sure there's a metaphor there somewhere. Maybe I'll feel better after three nice long months of relaxation and recuperation. Hope springs eternal, I guess.

So now that that's said...

One of the biggest problems I've been having, all year long, is impossible to describe without me feeling like I'm sounding really egotistical. The good news is, this is my journal, and I can say whatever I damn well please.

The problem is this:
I'm sick of being a prodigy. It is so painfully lonely, to be sitting up at 1:30 in the morning and knowing... there's nowhere that I can go pound on the door and get a hug and where they'd actually understand me, where we could actually talk about ME for a while, instead of it turning into "I'm sorry, Ruthan, we need to talk about me now 'cos I can't be bothered trying to comprehend whatever issues geniuses think they have". There's no one who's going to walk by and tell me hey, you need to stop worrying about w, x, y, and z, and just go to bed. No, I'm Wonder Woman. Staying up till 2 am and worrying about everything under the sun must just be how I function and stay so far ahead of everyone else. I'm at the top and I must not need anyone.

I know it's not true, but I don't think anyone else does, and I think that's why they're not giving me much right now.

[EDIT: Any of my nearby RL friends who may be reading this and feel like I haven't given them a chance... You are probably right, 'cos I couldn't really begin to guess who you are. Feel free to speak up and/or come track me down at weird hours of the night. You would earn my undying love and gratitude. As of August 19th, I'll probably be in Prof Jones' office.]

Excerpt from Theory I
Me: "C sharp diminished, B natural passing tone - "
Doc: "Well. No. Class?"
Probably Carla: "I have E minor with the C sharp as an accented passing tone."
Class: "Oh my GOD! Ruthan got it WRONG!!! Let me make a note of this in the margin of my theory book."

Yes, I got it wrong. I'm allowed, okay? And that's aside from the fact that the distinction between Cdim plus B natural and Em plus C sharp is one I can't really explain beyond 'Well... they're just... different... based on the context of the key signature.' Which, by the way, is something you refuse to learn about for yourself, for some reason. So piss the hell off.

Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of great friends, but none of them are going through what I am. To leave a place where I'm not the best at anything... and find myself somewhere where I'm the only one who *can* do anything... ...When someone here asks me to do something, it's not usually because I'm the one that can do it best, but because I'm the only one who can do it at all. The only one who is smart enough, or dedicated enough, or simply possessed of enough willingness to put myself aside for a moment and do something for someone else, instead of saying 'No, I know I said I would do that, but really, it's just not convenient for me right now, so I'm not going to do it, because I'm a self-centered asshole and I get a huge kick out of making life difficult for people.'

I just noticed that I started out with friends and ended up with assholes, and if this tirade was going anywhere more, I have lost track of it.

As usual.

Near the end of the semester, after I made field commander, both Prof Jones and Dr. Ruess expressed some concern about my sanity in the impending semester. Prof Jones, in particular, said that she realized that a lot of the time a few people end up with the bulk of the work, and she didn't want to risk burning me out before I even made it through sophomore year. (This was very nice of them and I appreciate it a *lot*. Like, with more words than I have, even considering how many I've used in angry ranting thus far.) "It shouldn't be a problem," I said, "I'll be fine."

What I didn't realize was that by then I was already burned out, at least for the year, and that I was comparing how shitty I felt at the time with how shitty I hoped I'd feel at the end of the next year (that is, not so shitty as I did when I left.)

I want to be free again. I don't want to keep having these damn loner responsibilities. I thought that that was kind of what growing up was about, taking on things by yourself and not needing a hundred other people just like you before you became a leader.

If that's the adult world, forget it. I don't want any part of it.

Except my band.


Making dreams come true is beyond hard work. It's a freaking pain in the arse.

Okay, okay...

I know this isn't funny at all, but I couldn't help myself, so here. The following is a perfect metaphor for your situation:


::runs away giggling and feeling bad for it::

Re: Okay, okay...

Aaarrg! Mely!


Re: Okay, okay...

Come to mention it, though...

"I know God wouldn't give me anything I couldn't handle. I just wish He didn't trust me so much." --Mother Teresa

Re: Okay, okay...

You said this once, and I just re-found it in my Hotmail box, and I wanted to tell you:


you rawk.