Cause that's the worst news I could hear I swear that I will
Do my best to be here just the way you like it
Even though its hard to hide
Push my feelings all aside
I will rearrange my plans and change for you
The days that I actually turn on my computer you poor people get so many blogs. I would blog more but no one reads my blog and my computer crashes at least three times per blog, so I have to have a lot of enthusiasm for blogging.
I stopped cleaning my room to look for blogs. I found none, but I did find some food downstairs. What I was thinking about was the other day I had this training about grief and it was the strangest training I've ever had. The training was presented by an organization that has a few facilities around Pennsylvania where kids and their families go when they have a death of someone close to them. It's just a place they can go and talk to other people about their grief. I thought it was going to be a training that talks about the center. No, it was like a group therapy session. One that I clearly didn't partake in as I've never experienced grief. I think that with my current job and my past job, I've just come to not see my clients as actual people, more like movies or stories. I know that sounds really horrible because that's not really how I see them, it's just how my mind feels when they tell me stories. Like what's happened to them never really actually happened, like when you read a book it was in someone else's imagination. But when your co-workers are telling these extremely sad stories about growing up without their mother's or their parents or spouse dying and having to tell their family what happened. I was trying so hard not to burst out crying, which is odd for me. I usually only cry when good things happen.
Point of the story: We had to color an outline of a fat man with our grief. Since I don't have grief, I just did my "feelings" in general. They didn't tell us the point of the exercise when we were picking out what 4 crayons we wanted to use. I think it's supposed to be some sort of psychological thing where you pick colors that define you. Well, since I was in the bathroom, all of my favorite colors were chosen and I got the leftovers. Thankfully they had a million boxes of crayons so better colors than pea green were left, but all of the yellows were gone. Yellow is my favorite. I just chose a bunch of pastel colors. Maybe my subconscious mind is right. I mean, do I ever really get that mad or sad or angry or happy? Not really. I feel like it's all very pastel. I used the darkest color that I had, which was purple, and I colored all the way around the outside and my whole head. I think that was fitting because the feelings that I do have are very fleeting and they're only slightly intense for about ten minutes. Then I calm down and graduate down to the lighter peaches and pinks that I chose.
I always like to think of my feelings as layers, like the earth. I don't know what each layer means because it appears they change a lot. Like I have that core that's pretty tough. And I think all around it is a liquid mush and then the outside is also sort of hard, but hard like a cookie. Maybe that's how everyone is, I don't know, but this is my thought process about myself.
Maybe one day I'll get people. Right now, I can't tell if I'm supposed to walk away or stay. I usually stay because I'm that person that doesn't get hints and I just sort of stand there awkwardly until you tell me to leave in those exact words. Like boys, it's easier to break up with me via text than face to face. Alex said she gets mad when this happens, but I can't take it. I don't cry or plead or even speak really. Then I get told that I'm "not being very emotional about this". But when are you supposed to walk away, really? Just say "stop talking to me, I don't like you and I will never like you. At this point you're just like a freaking groupie". I'm learning to get hints, but I don't want to.
I'm starting to hate the weekends now. I think when I started this job, I liked it so much that the weeks went so fast. Maybe I was doing more then and not drinking as much and had more friends. Now the weeks go by relatively fast and the weekends feel like three minutes.