Wow, it really kills your morale when you go to start your blog over again, read your old posts, and realize you're coming to blog about those exact things again. Do other people hit brick walls as often as I do? It's been the same wall for some time now, every time I'm sure I'm breaking through, then a few months later I realize I'm back where I started. A little wiser for the wear- well, heh, not wise, uh... just experienced. A veteran wall-hitter.
So, that's pretty depressing right? But I've been sad before about how much it sucks being me, and it hasn't helped me scale the wall, or knock it down, or whatever victorious imagery makes the better picture. And I've said before, "I'm going to change, from this point forward." Whether or not I moved forward at all is debatable, but the net effect has been no change, just time wasted. I've probably just been going in circles. God, I hate circles! :P And now, surprise surprise, I'm back in the same spot again, saying, "Oh look, I'm back in the same spot again."
More updating: The exterior around me has changed, and my circumstances are a little different than they were last time I was in this spot, and I have some different memories now. I've been in Arizona for about a month and a half now... Which has seemed like such a looooooong time when you're wasting time like I am. But I feel I sort of needed this, as like an accelerated evolution. Living with my mom for pretty much all my life I feel has delayed my growing up in some ways. If I didn't have to put myself in an uncomfortable position, like say taking responsibility for my life, then I didn't. Makes logical sense, but it's not the most admirable position. I think I would have eventually grown up had I stayed on the farm for the season, but since that ended early, I didn't have the chance. So it's waited until now, at 23, when I've come to Arizona on my own. And here's what I've experienced in these some 6 weeks:
*No cooked food ever tastes good to me. Since getting here I slowly let myself eat more cooked food, since like .. there was no one here to watch me, you know. It was like disobeying your parents' rules when they're out of the house. Slowly ate more, then just ate anything I craved. And each thing... was not satisfying. I don't remember how cooked food was every satisfying, but it's *almost* like a curse, you know, like I really want these things I think will be yummy and maybe make me feel good, but in every single case, in every bite, they fail. Nothing, it doesn't matter what it is. So, almost like a curse, but really probably for the better. I don't want to want to eat cooked food, and this certainly gives me some mental fodder. Now I'm beginning to look at cooked food and say, I know that looks good, and it smells good, but I know how it will make me feel, and it won't really taste that good, either. Man, emotional conditioning is a bitch! But that's all it is. And I have to see it for what it is. These things are not food, not for me. The spices mask the true flavor of whatever it is, which is usually pretty gross when it's naked; the salt irritates my tongue, numbing the taste buds, making everything less satisfying; the food itself, once eaten, makes my stomach bloat, and later gives me gas, really bad-tasting burps, diarrhea, and above all it makes me sooooo tired. God, it takes like two whole days, at least, to recover from eating cooked food. It prolongs my true hunger so I don't feel like eating for a day or more, which further depresses my mood. All I feel like doing is sleeping, and that makes me feel like a waste of life, as I'm not working, reading, exercising, talking with friends. What's more....
*I believe I have polycystic ovary syndrome. I've suspected this for a long time.. maybe since as early as 7th grade.. actually maybe even earlier than that. I remember sometimes after going to the bathroom, lying on the floor because the right side of my lower abdomen hurt so bad. A couple inches below and to the right of my belly button, I put it right smack on my right ovary. I've always had a weight problem, save the 6 or so months after I met Jeremy and really lost weight. And since at least 8th grade I've noticed I have more chin hair than I think a girl ought. I know, it's kind of gross to think about, but there it is. If there's any good news, I think it's a mild case of the syndrome, as I don't think I am making lots of testosterone, because I don't have the symptoms of lots of testosterone. Just a little longer chin hair. Oh, and I know I'm fertile... But I've heard of raw foods curing just about everything, and the ovary thing is probably just an imbalance of hormones, which is caused my body fat, really. I think diet and exercise should actually cure it, once a stable and healthy weight is reached and maintained. And you know, I want to take care of my body not just for my own peace of mind, but because I want to have kids... and relatively soon, like by the time or before I'm 30. And to make them as healthy as possible, I need to be as healthy as possible. Unfortunately I don't think that'll be enough to motivate me, but it'll be something to beat myself with when I'm not doing it right.
And I don't know what I learned from Will, but that didn't last long. Interesting that one of my posts (That I deleted) mentioned not really wanting to meet him after all, and beginning to distance myself from him. Maybe I do have good instincts after all, just may have to wait a couple weeks for the lust part to wear off.
Oh, as if this post couldn't get any less organized (stream of thought!), I also realized I'm stuck at the third level of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs- the third level being social needs, the need for relations, friendship, love. And I think that's a big reason I haven't done more with my life, and also could explain why I had a multiple-month personal growth binge after meeting Jeremy. I don't know now that what I thought was there was actually there, but I think what mattered was that I thought I had met someone really awesome that I connected with better than I had connected with in years and years.. not since my childhood best friend, and that ended when I was maybe 10 or so, whenever it was I realized I was moving away. So, yeah, I met Jeremy and then just poof, like magic, I was running every day, eating raw, sticking to it, enjoying it, enjoying life. I look back on it as a dream, and I don't think living through it I knew what was going on, so sadly I can't replicate it. I guess it ended when Jeremy moved to college, 180 miles away, and I think that's pretty much when our relationship ended, too, heh. I've really just been in denial since then, and still clinging, wanting him to be the lover I once thought he was... and he's not. He's really just not.
So, yeah, cystic ovaries. I gotta do something about that. I have a new roommate and we're running at least 3x a week on some program that slowly builds us up to running 3 miles. It'll be really good. Running is soooo good for me. I know I don't need a relationship to lose weight, all I have to do is exercise, and oddly enough I think it puts me in a better position to be in a relationship. It elevates my mood for one, motivates me, and then the losing weight thing is further mental excitement and motivation. So, this roommate is good, yes.
And I wouldn't be me if I didn't mention I've found someone new again. But if I learned anything from Will it's that I have little idea of how things will be with anyone until I meet them in person. Although... the first clues to my not liking Will came when we started talking on the phone, and I did not like his... style. Yeah, looking back, he was on the phone very much like how he was in person, I just was doing the Jeremy thing where I insert fantasies and untruths to help hold the dream together, heh. I ignored the warning feelings I had of him at those times. This new person, we've talked on the phone several times now, and online for over a month, in great depth. He's very, very sweet... he's been reading me The Hobbit for the past two nights over the phone, as a bedtime story, hah. I mean, he's kind of doing all the things I'd wished Jeremy did. And I haven't really gotten any warning signals. A few times I've gotten mad at him, but that was in the beginning when I think neither of us could read the other very well throug the internet, and just plain misunderstanding. Communicating over the internet can be kind of perilous like that. But now I have a much better feel for him and those things haven't happened. I guess my only concern is that we're too much alike, heh. He's very smart, and it's been sort of enlightening talking with someone who is so bright, and, well, rather wise. My ideas on the preciousness of life have really evolved because of him- he's extremely empathetic, genuinely concerned with the well-being of anything that lives, caring, etc. To use a line from I Robot, his logic is undeniable! Heh. So, that's the too-similar concern. But I guess agreeing that living things deserve love and respect isn't such a bad compromise ;P It seems our thought patterns are similar, it seems like I'll soon be able to finish his sentences and things liket that. Just very similar. And we both sort of have the same social problem, in that we need good social relationships to get us out of our apathy. We were both born in February, a week apart (different years tho), so I wonder if that has anything to do with it. I mean, feels silly to be superstious like that, but it's weird understanding and connecting with someone as I have with him. But, we shall see, eh? The last thing I want to do is jump into this again because I'm sort of feeling excited, as I did with Will or many other guys I'd not yet met, and ruin it. I'm eager to meet him, but I think giving it more time to develop is not a bad thing. I'll probably go visit him in January or February, which .. actually seem like way too far away, but I really won't have the time until then. I'm secretly hoping Methuselah fires me and I can move up there. But if it doesn't work out with him I am somewhat fucked and should probably then just inhale sea water until I die :P I still have absolutely no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going in life.