Boo!

A fitting tribute to the things that haunt me on my drives home, since that’s apparently when both intrusive thoughts and unpleasant emotions surface for me. That and at night, before trying to sleep.

First, I got ghosted. Again.

It didn’t bother me the day it happened, or the morning I noticed him gone from my matches. But the next time I was driving home from work, it got in my head.

Not him. I wasn’t thinking about him, so much as dissecting what I had said last and if I had driven someone else away. If there is just something patently wrong with me that makes me unable to connect in a meaningful way.

For the record, we’d been talking about Hendrix. I paraphrased lyrics from “Red House” that I enjoyed because of their “player swagger.” The actual lyrics (I just checked) are as follows:

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“Lord, I might as well go back over yonder
Way back yonder ‘cross the hill
‘Cause if my baby don’t love me no more
I know her sister will!”

~from “Red House” by Jimi Hendrix

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I feel like maybe the equivalent of this was me flirting with an artist bartender (as if a bartender is EVER impressed for real while on duty… I would never do that again, now that I’ve learned my lesson)… and sang “Hard to Handle” during Karaoke. The Black Crowes cover version, though I think Otis Redding sang it first, if I remember correctly.

So maybe *I* have a bit of player swagger, too. And it seems like that’s sometimes a problem. Or at least, it makes me not everyone’s cup of tea.

Tonight driving home, I was suddenly struck once more by something my daughter had said to me over the phone days before. Something I had already cried over and apologized for and made my peace with, once she said I didn’t have to be sorry and that she wasn’t mad.

I had developed a habit of sending her texts in the morning/early afternoon, before she was awake, and she often found herself waking up to my issues.

So I’m trying for the millionth time not to lean on her so much. I get that it’s not fair. I just have a very underdeveloped support system. And it seems like there are always barriers to getting more support for myself.

I get that it’s a two-way street. I do. I am working on making friends, and on doing work on myself so I’m not so needy. It’s just a lot.

Anyway, tonight, my thought process was that everyone wants me to change. To become more emotionally self-sufficient. That no one loves me just as I am in this moment. And that had me crying, while driving home, and reflecting again that there’s just something wrong with me, rendering me unloveable.

I cried it out and was able to rein my feelings back and have a late dinner at my parents’ house, since they had said I could stop in after work. Then, I came home, and luxuriated in another episode of Interview with the Vampire.

AH!!! MY GOD!!! THE DRAMA!!! THE BETRAYAL!!!

BUT no spoilers as to who or what or how or why.

It was a pretty fascinating episode, even if it paused the action that would have carried over from last week. An interesting choice, since it felt like last week’s episode was building up to a climax. We’re being edged, metaphorically speaking. Better pacing this week, I would say, even with the delayed gratification tactic.

This is actually my second swing at this particular post. I felt very conflicted about my earlier effort, and it had gotten late. I was half asleep. Not sure if I wanted to share everything I had written. You’ve lost a little and gained a little truth in the process. But that’s okay.

Listening to my Goth Metal Symphonic Interludes playlist again, as I was the night I first tried to explore all of this. Feels fitting.

The first time through I went off on a tangent about Type O Negative. I’ll spare you that, for the most part, and just state that I much prefer the 11+ minute full album version of “Black No. 1 (Little Miss Scare-All)” over the shorter edit sans f-bomb. Silly Spotify, trying to censor my music.

The theme of this post reminded me of a song that isn’t on the playlist at all.

Enjoy!