Growth, so-called maturity, and egomania
Feeling: devastated

So earlier tonight I was thinking about how my emotional growth has been horribly stunted by my childhood, and how I am basically at the emotional intelligence level of a 13-year-old.


And I was also thinking about how I've gotten past the stage in my life where I think Zach Braff is some super wise person to look up to.


But, like, how idiotic and ironic and just contradictory would it be for me to say I've outstripped the maturity level of my (formerly?) beloved Scrubs and Garden State?


Like, I am not better than other people just because I am a better feminist, or whatever. Or wiser, or more mature.


I was also thinking about how I was often a really fucked up and unsupportive friend back in the day. I can kind of own up to it now (something I am generally very bad at is taking responsibility for things that do not bring me glory) -- though I can see the external causes of my own situation of abuse and complete lack of parental guidance, I can still take responsibility for my part in acting like a giant asshole.


So to my old friend, I am sorry that when you told me that stuff about your brother I totally acted like it wasn't a big deal. I had my own shit going on in that same arena, and I told you about it. I shouldn't have brushed off your experiences so easily. I hope you didn't suffer more from holding them inside because I wasn't caring enough or capable enough or wise enough to listen and give a shit. And I'm sorry about the time(s) I said I was more mature than you. We both have our super-fucked up mind problems, crazy stubbornness, and emotional issues. I handle some situations better than you. You probably handle some situations better than me. I haven't talked to you in forever and I hope you are doing really well at your new job. Even when crazy shit happened, you were always fun to be around. I miss the days when we were like Lucy and Ethel. It was like every day was the chocolate factory episode. I hope we one day reconnect.


And to my childhood heroes, yeah, you are not perfect. You are broken in many ways, but you know what? You served as my elder siblings, parents, and friends when I had none of those things in the real world. You were just on the TV and you don't even know me, and if I approached you in public you'd probably be all like "who the fuck are you are you trying to steal my underwear for some kind of creepy underwear-shrine" (I mean, that'd be my first thought if I was a celebrity, obvs). Everyone is broken and bent and fucked up, and the ways we overcome our flaws are what is beautiful. And the ways we fail to overcome our flaws are what we call tragedy. And I've never liked tragedy. I live for the tragicomedy, with that hopeful upturn at the end of all the drama, with that happy destiny laid out for the future, with perseverance and hard work and character building.


They say things like that people don't change. Sure, there are a lot of personality things that are pretty stable. But people change when they are growing. I am maybe too old to grow now. Maybe not. I hope I can keep growing because I still have a lot of catching up to do. I still don't have any social skills or know how to maintain a friendship. I still don't know who I am because so much of my life has been dealt with only by stepping outside of myself and letting my mind drift elsewhere. So much of my life has been ignoring myself and accommodating others.


I'm in a cocooning sort of phase. I want to insulate myself and isolate myself, and let my thoughts and songs reverberate within and around myself, and thus to find myself. I hope to one day emerge confident and hopeful. I have always been hopeful, but only about certain things. I have been confident, but only overconfident, or not at all. I need to learn moderation in my feelings about myself.


I'm a good person, a decent human being. I'm not a great person, an angel, a saint, or anywhere near infallible. I'm also not an awful demonic horror. So that's good. Moderation. I am learning.


I do feel like I'd be a good guardian angel, though. Like, if that was my full-time job. Just to watch people and hold them with incorporeal arms and send them waves of love and comfort. That'd be pretty much the best job. Or even an angel of death, comforting the utterly disoriented, fearful, pained and tormented and helping them to find their way to Next Place.


I just wish I consistently and devoutly believed in angels.




PS. Robin Williams died today (August 11th, 2014). I can't sleep. There is a thunderstorm going on during a supermoon and a (Perseid) meteor shower in the middle of a heatwave. Those things would all be cool except I'm just really, really sad. And it's not even my place to be sad. But I just keep reading all these sad things.


PPS. David Wong wrote this thing on Cracked, and I don't really like the way he ended it, and some of it was too hard to read, but some of it really struck a chord with me and got me thinking even more about how emotionally stunted I am, and how I'm totally not alone in that, and how it's actually a pretty common way to be and deal with things. Also confirmed my total love of John Cheese, now and forever. And made me want a poop/boob machine.




Been re-watching all of Scrubs. I still want to be a lot like Dr. Cox. He's basically House without the addiction. But so much yelling and self-sabotage. I do that stuff. I'd like to do it less, but it'd alleviate at least some of my crippling self-doubt and feelings of impending failure to know that in some way I am helping others even as I desperately try to keep my own head above water.



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