On Gaming and Other Things

Recently, I've found myself losing interest in just about everything I used to love.  For the past few weeks I've left my clay and wire untouched, and felt no artistic drive to work with them.  Even video games, something I used to delight in, haven't been able to sway my favor.  It's not that I'd become bored with what I have, it's almost as though I developed an aversion to the things I like.  


I think the reason backing my aversion is the emotions and people I had come to connect to these hobbies. Two of my favorite gaming franchises (Final Fantasy and Legend of Zelda) are, in my mind, strongly connected to people who caused a lot of pain in my life.  Especially Final Fantasy.  Three of my favorite games from that series are FF IX, FF X, and FF X-2.  The reason they ended up being my favorites was probably because of the connections they had to these people.  Final Fantasy X-2 was the game that introduced me to someone who would become the person I became the closest to in my life so far.  It was actually lent to me by this person, would later become a running joke with them, and finally became a gift from this person.  When I would have a bad day, I would come home and play it and think about this person and feel happy that I had such a person in my life.  Final Fantasy X was also a game that reminded me a lot of this particular person, and playing it would produce similar happy feelings.


Much in the same way, Final Fantasy IX was lent to me by another person who would grow to become almost equally important to me.  They said the game was one of their favorites, and it ended up becoming one of mine too.  This person lived far away, and when I missed them I would play this game to ease the sad feeling of their absence.  


In the same way, working with clay was tied heavily to these people.  The whole reason I started working with clay in the first place was to make gifts for these people I came to care about.  Ever since then, everything I would make was crafted with the thought of them, what they would think of what I made, whether they would like it.  Most of what I made was given to these people, because both of these people became extremely important to me, and I cherished them.  


So when one used me and the other decided they were done with me, I was left with a lot of unhappy feelings.  Feelings I would much rather forget.  And, just as the happy feelings had connected themselves to these games and hobbies in the past, the unhappy feelings wound themselves into the games and clay.  If I'm busy, the hustle and bustle drowns out the sad feelings and I'm okay.  But when things slow down, as they have in the past couple weeks, the unhappy feelings arise from their hiding places and grab hold of me, draining me of my life energy and trying to drag me down.  When that happens, I end up avoiding the things that harbor these feelings, in an attempt to save myself from having to deal with them.  


But I don't want to continue on like that.  So I've decided to fix things.  Buried somewhere in the bad feelings are the good memories, and it's time to bring those to the forefront.  The hurt that these people caused doesn't cancel out all the good memories, and it's time to focus on that instead.  


So, I'm going to replay through all these games.  I haven't touched them since all the stuff that happened this summer, and it's time to dust them off.  I'm going to start with FF IX, the one given to me by the person who hurt me the most.  I'm going to play them.  And I will enjoy them.  I will allow my memories to surface, and remember both the good and the bad as I go through these games.  And when I finish them, I will put them back in their case, and with it I will seal the memories I have of these people.  What happened is done and over, and it's time to categorize the feelings and put them in the past where they belong.  Because there isn't any room for them in my future.


Before, I had foolishly pre-written my story before it happened.  I had planned everything out, based on my limited knowledge.  My pre-written story included people that are no longer part of my life.  So from now on, I'm writing a new story.  I'm not gonna get ahead of myself, but I'm going to blaze forward and catch up to the rest of my life.  


"This is it. This is your story. It all begins here." 

Transition

Currently, my life is in a state of transition.  Or maybe more accurately, a state of hiatus.  My life consists of failed job searches and crafting from my dwindling supplies.  I'm almost out of clay and I'm lacking in wire.  Every day is a push to keep myself from going insane from a lack of things to do.  I must have rearranged my room thirty times by now.  I've become almost meticulous at keeping my room clean, if only for the reason that cleaning gives me something to do.

I've angered one of my best friends again.  I seem to be getting good at that.  We were doing so well too; we'd finally started mending the cracks that were left from this summer.  We were talking, joking, and enjoying each other's friendship again.  But then a misunderstanding happened, and suddenly I'm back on his list of people to ignore. 

It's kinda funny, in a sad, sad way, how all it takes to destroy something good is a misunderstanding.  Such a simple, small thing that causes so much damage.  It's truly a shame, that the one thing I'm skilled at is causing such detrimental misunderstandings.  Some people can sing, some paint, some are athletic.  My skill is making people mad at me.  And I do it so flawlessly.

Slamming Doors

Well, I'm done my fall semester, and Christmas break is officially here.  And here I am, two in the morning, lounging around in my room at the new house (which is FINALLY somewhat clean after coming home with all my college stuff to find it completely wrecked).  I'm weary and my body aches from cleaning and packing all day yesterday, and moving furniture and cleaning MORE when I got home.  But despite that, I feel completely at ease.  I'm not so much sleepy as I am relaxed. I feel like I'm floating, the sounds of the room coming to me kinda muted and mellow like I'm hearing it underwater.  The whirring of my laptop, and the planes flying nearby, and the soft snoring of my boyfriend from my floor where he crashed before making it to the couch, are all serving to lull me off into a contented state of total relaxation.  And right now I can't help but think about how wonderfully blessed my life has become, and how thankful I am for all the things, even the seemingly bad things, that led me to this place.  I'm starting to realize that sometimes even the most painful events can be a blessing in disguise.  That, had those painful things never happened, I would've never had the amazing things I have now.  It's almost funny to me: I had been so upset from being hurt, when getting hurt was the best thing that could have happened to me.  I thought I was losing something good, when really bad things were getting out of my life so that great things could happen.  I was foolish, and attempted with all my might to hold onto the things that weren't good for me.  Now, looking back, I'm so thankful that those doors were slammed in my face.  Because I'm kinda silly sometimes, and if they hadn't been closed for me, I would have gone through them.  And if I had gone through them, I would never have experienced this happiness I feel now.  Happiness I could never have gotten on the other side of the slammed doors.  The happiness may have come about from really painful stuff, but to me, this happiness was worth it.

Just Tell Me That You Still Believe

I wish I had a better understanding of people.  Sometimes, I even wish I could read minds.  I know, that would be a horrible superpower to have, and would backfire all the time.  Sometimes it is best to be oblivious, after all.  But sometimes, sometimes I stare at people and try my hardest to find out what people REALLY mean, what they REALLY think.  I think if I could read people's minds, and know what's really going on with someone, it would prevent me from saying the wrong thing, and hurting people and causing people to be mad at me.  I seem to do that a lot.  I've realized too late that I've already lost some of the most important people in my life, because I couldn't predict or be sure of what they were thinking. I've said stupid things and done stupid things and hurt them without realizing, and by the time I had a grasp on what was really going on, it was too late.  They were gone.  There aren't any second chances when it comes to stuff like this.  

The thing that makes it really sting is the little voice in my head that keeps reminding me that it's all my fault.  The pain I caused them, the pain I now feel at their absence, all of it could have been avoided, SHOULD have been avoided, if I had the ability to see things through eyes other than my own.  Even now, though I understand what my shortcoming was, I'm no closer to knowing how to fix it.  I still don't even know where to begin to know how to grasp another's thoughts.  And even now it's still causing problems.  I'm continually hurting one of the most important people to me, and I don't even know how to stop.  If I could just know what they were really thinking, I think I could figure it out.  But I don't know how to know.  I can't get that information from them.  People never tell you what they really, REALLY think, after all.  And the information I have gotten from them is so completely contradictory I don't know what's truth and what's false.  Shady actions and blatant horrid words strike me in the face, and my brain is telling me that they're lying when they feed you kind, placating words.  But then my heart speaks up and vehemently denies the possibility.  "They're there for you" it says.  This is someone who's had your back time and time again.  They've held you when you've cried and made you laugh when you didn't feel like being happy and they've said so themselves that they'll never leave you behind, that you're too important to them to abandon.

And then my brain speaks back up.  It calls my heart stupid and naive.  It reminds my heart of all the times they WEREN'T there for me.  Reminds of the darkest times, when they abandoned me when I needed them the most.  Reminds me of the contradicting stories and all the times I trusted and was let down and hurt again and again and again.  My brain tells me not to listen to my heart, reminds me of how broken I ended up whenever I had faith in them.  It begs me to run for my own good.  My heart begs me to stay for the same reason.

Both my brain and my heart have gotten me hurt before.  I no longer know which one to listen to, if I should listen to either.  I'm terrified to take action at all, honestly.  Every time I do, it's another mistake.  Will this next time, be the last?  Will the next mistake I feel almost certain I'll make be the one to tip them over the edge, and make them abandon me for good?  Can I prevent this from happening?  Everything I thought I knew about them has been completely upended, and I don't feel secure in knowing anything about them anymore.  


I'm terrified to try, and get destroyed again.  But I'm terrified to not try, and have them slip through my fingers.  But most of all I'm terrified because I don't know what to do.


Song of the Day:
Believe- Skillet


I'm still trying to figure out
How to tell you I was wrong
I can't fill the emptiness inside
Since you've been gone

So is it you or is it me?
I know I said things that I didn't mean
But you should've known me by now
You should've known me

If you believed when I said
I'd be better off without you
Then you never really knew me at all

If you believed when I said
That I wouldn't be thinking about you
You thought you knew the truth
But you're wrong

You're all that I need
Just tell me that you still believe

I can't undo the things
That led us to this place
But I know there's something more
To us than our mistakes

So is it you or is it me?
I know I'm so blind when we don't agree
But you should've known me by now
You should've known me

If you believed when I said
I'd be better off without you
Then you never really knew me at all

If you believed when I said
That I wouldn't be thinking about you
You thought you knew the truth
But you're wrong

You're all that I need
Just tell me that you still believe

Is it you or is it me?
I know I said things that I didn't mean
You should've known me by now
You should've known me

If you believed when I said
I'd be better off without you
Then you never really knew me at all

If you believed when I said
That I wouldn't be thinking about you
You thought you knew the truth
But you're wrong

'Cause you're all that I want
Don't you even know me at all?
You're all that I need
Just tell me that you still believe
 

my pledge to him

i won't use your shoe to kill the spiders.  

i will share my fries with you when you've 

finished all yours and are still hungry.  

i will eat the onions when we order the supreme pizza.  

i will not laugh when your tummy growls and 

gurgles, but will instead growl back. 

i will try my hardest not to be annoyed when 

you beat me at children's card games. 

i will be the big spoon sometimes.  

i will kiss your finger if you smoosh it in a door.

i will wear that lotion you like that you 

think smells really good. 

i will send you random texts and put silly gifts 

on your windowsill and leave you wondering

how i scaled the outside of your dorm 

to the fourth floor to do so.  

i will remind you to eat so you don't forget and

bake you lots of cookies when you do. 

i will let you win in mario kart and brawl.  

sometimes.  

other times, i will not.  

i won't ever smack you.  

i will always let you know i respect you, 

even when i'm teasing you.  

i will hold your hand.

i will like you a whole bunch.

Memos to Myself

Hey You.

Yes, You.  Stop being unhappy with yourself.  

You are perfect.  Stop wishing you looked like someone 

else or wishing people like you as much as they like 

someone else.  Stop trying to get attention from those 

who hurt you.  Stop hating your body, your face, 

your personality, your quirks:  love them.  Without 

those things, you wouldn't be you.  And why would you 

want to be anyone else?  Be confident with who you are.  

Smile: it will draw people in.  If anyone hates on you 

because of who you are, than stick your middle finger 

in the air and say "Screw it, my happiness will not depend 

on others anymore."  

I am happy because I love who I am.  

I love my flaws.  I love my imperfections.  They 

make me me.  And "me" is pretty amazing.

Copper Cupcakes

Whenever I'm upset, my favorite thing to do is bake.  Something about making cute cupcakes or that perfect pan of cornbread is somehow just so therapeutic for me.  I don't like being home alone at night, so whenever my mother would travel for meetings, I would stay up the entire night raiding the cabinets for ingredients, scouring the internet for recipes, and baking.  I'm not sure what it is about cooking that de-stresses me.  I think it's the concept of working with my hands, taking raw materials and combining them in ways that make something amazing in the end.


This is probably why I also love working at the anvil.  Making jewelry is actually my preferred outlet for stress.  The repetitive clang of metal clashing, the energy flowing through my body as I bring the hammer down in quick succession.  It is mindless work, a mechanical movement of my arms, yet at the same time I am sharply focused, molding the metal to my will to create a work of art.  The mindlessness of it helps me empty my mind of what is upsetting me, and being focused makes me hone in on something else, leaving no room to think about anything else but the weight of the hammer and the feel of hot copper against my hands.  Even though mindlessness and focus are contradictory, they seem to twine together into a moment of serenity when I'm working.


Unfortunately, though my thoughts keep me awake in the middle of the night, the neighbors definitely wouldn't appreciate the sound of my hammer awakening them from their rest at two in the morning.  So it's at these times that I turn to the kitchen.  I tend to feel at home in the kitchen (cue the age old joke about girls belonging in the kitchen).  It's true though.  I feel a sense of peace baking or cooking.  Maybe it's because cooking is something I taught myself.  I didn't grow up helping my mom cook or bake cookies like most girls did.  My family was pretty much "fend for yourself" when it came to food.  I had never even baked a batch of cookies from scratch until I was in high school.  Before that I had always scorned cooking.  I viewed it as "girly", and I wanted to stay as far from that adjective and the things I associated with it as I could.  When I finally realized how silly I was and gave baking a try, I found that I enjoyed it.  It was soothing.  I didn't really want to let people know I liked it though.  I wasn't good at it at first, and I used to get really discouraged because a lot of my friends were really good at baking, and I felt inferior because I wasn't.  I still get discouraged sometimes.


But as I continued to try and experiment, I learned and improved.  And as I improved, my self esteem improved too.  As a girl who, unfortunately, thrives on being told she did well, I am ecstatic every time someone tells me that they like what I make.  It makes me glow to know that I made something, and someone else enjoyed it.  Whether it's muffins I baked or a figure I made with clay, when I make something, and that something I made makes someone else happy, I am happy.