When I learned a new addition to the Terminator series was going to be hitting theatres, I was torn. Terminator 2; Judgment Day sits right up there with Aliens as my all time favorite movies. It reminded me of good memories of my childhood…of my Dad. We could never get bored watching it. We used to argue over the third installment because it pissed me off and he thought I was being too harsh. Terminator Salvation made up for it and Dad was just glad that I geeked out over it. -chuckles-
Remember how I mentioned my Dad loved space? He worked for Hughes Aerospace and was involved in really cool projects such as working on the brain of what he and his team called ‘Tweety’ because it was small and only propelled itself through space with “Mouse Farts” as he called it. It was created to orbit comets… I’m sure you’ve heard of those by now. Well, I’ve got a funny story for you. When T2 came out, he had mentioned to my big brother that he was working on a British Communications or Defense satellite (I can’t remember exactly but it’s still hilariously awesome) called, SkyNet. When my brother’s friend found out, apparently he went white.
Never did find out if SkyNet ever made it into orbit…
-laughs softly and shakes her head-
So despite hearing mixed reviews about the new installment, I was fortunate enough to go see it last night with one of my best friends. As a fellow Terminator fan, there was allot of shared geeking out (it was pretty funny) and the one thing that kept going through my head the entire movie was, “Dad would’ve loved this” and when we got to the end of the film (don’t worry, I won’t spoil it for you) I felt something inside me break and had to literally fight myself during the credits from completely falling apart. Tears dashed hot and silent along my skin and I had to force myself to be still; quickly wiping the offensive streams of moisture from my flesh.
When we stepped out into the nearly empty parking lot, a thick fog had appeared…the same swirling mist that always makes me feel as though he’s somehow with me, just on the other side of that grey veil.
-pauses to take a hefty drink of coffee from her Nightmare Before Christmas thermos; swallowing the thick ball of emotion from the back of her throat-
It’s odd…how this seems to coincide with strange sightings of things that immediately bring my Dad to the forefront of my mind. I’ve been seeing my Dad’s old Toyota Pick Up (almost the exact same model) for the past two weeks. I was definitely Not looking for them and also, as popular as Toys are, the older models don’t usually show up in threes. I’ve seen Seven now. Never the same color, but the Exact model. This has Never happened before. Then, yesterday before finally going to see the movie, I kept seeing a huge dragonfly…and not in the same part of town. It kept showing up just above my head…and then I saw another Toyota Pick Up… So you can understand why it all crashed down on me at once after the movie.
I’ve been trying to keep myself together. Lately more of the emotions from those memories have been hitting me like a night terror that refuses to pry its cold dead fingers from your panicked soul.
Most days I’m able to keep my shit together. I don’t let myself drown in the past or what’s happened. I’m a little too preoccupied with what’s going to happen tomorrow. I’m trying so fucking hard to get the broken pieces of my life to fit back into something resembling normalcy. Yes, I’m still pretty damned lost in the forest…but I’ve managed to enjoy the trees. I’ve forced myself to see the good in everything. I’ve already got enough darkness welling up inside me that I don’t need it spilling over into my waking life.
Eh, I’m all over the place, but it feels good to get these chaotic thoughts out of my head before they start eating away at what’s left of my sanity.
-gives a small smile and shakes her head at herself-
I should probably talk about pleasant things, no?
I’m job hunting, been job hunting and hopefully something sticks soon…I know being a productive member of society will really quell the thoughts in my head. I miss being busy. I miss driving my Ellie. I miss being self-sufficient. The bitch of it is the simple fact that it hasn’t been enough. Thankfully, I’ve grown confident enough to just get on a bus and trust that I’ll get to where I need to go.
I honestly need to start over. Completely redo my world. My main goal of getting to Salem Oregon hasn’t changed. There’s something deep down inside me that’s beckoning me to just ‘Go For It’, but what exactly? Hell if I know… There’s so much inside me that’s been transitioning that it’s hard to get my thoughts in order. I’m sure my words are all over the place right now, and I apologize for that. I think I just hit that point most writer’s know all too well, where you suddenly need to keep writing. Just let as much out as possible. Since we’re on the subject of being open… I’m in a weird state inside, especially when it comes to being in a relationship. I’ve been alone for awhile now and when I think about it, I’m okay. Sure, it’d be fantastic to have someone sit and bullshit with, watch bad movies and do our own version of mystery science theatre. Play video games, make fun of each other. Have really intense, intellectual conversations about evolution, space, history, life, animals, philosophy, theology and other random shit. To be complete and utter dorks together. It would be lovely. Yet, lately… I want to be alone. I don’t want to be touched. As though a switch went off inside and I don’t want to feel affection. I just don’t want to feel. Because once you start to really Feel again, you start to experience dormant emotions, which can only mean the others aren’t far behind. Feeling safe enough to show that part of myself makes it incredibly hard to keep the pain from reaching the surface. I don’t want to feel that vulnerable. Showing something that intimate can just give them another weapon to use. Another way to dig the blade a little deeper. Never give anyone too much of yourself…because somehow, you get screwed in the end. It’s not true for everyone, I know that. I can say with perfect honesty that I’m a whole lot of fucked up inside. That’s not a ‘pity-party’ statement for sympathy. Ya’ll should know me better than that.
And to be honest, I hate crying.
Maybe it’s just temporary. Could just be a wounded part of myself making itself known. A feeling that can only be described as follows; “Everything I love is ripped away from me. Better to become stone than shattered glass.” I think that made sense…
-Shrugs and takes a drink of her coffee; sad that it’s almost gone-
Oh and get this, I’ve been experiencing slight memory loss lately and have had to force myself to remember. I had to fight to remember dates. A part of my brain is holding things hostage. Literally sitting and trying to recall everything that’s happened from this very moment to back to right around the time my Dad first started getting sick… It’s the weirdest feeling. After I remember, it’s suddenly gone. As though my brain is only making cracks in the huge walls surrounding my memories. I know I have some form of PTSD, my brain just has this knack for protecting me from it, well…most of the time, especially in public. It’s really strange having to fight myself to remember things. I know for a damned fact it’s there (memories) hell, I can recall them just enough…but if I focus a little too long, my brain switches off. It’s seriously annoying. I thought I’d gotten passed that already. I guess not.
Things will get better. Or so I tell myself every chance I get. It works for the most part. Today? I got into an internal debate with myself and almost lost. There’s a chunk of myself that is very unhappy and decided that she was going to make a big ole stink about it when I wasn’t prepared. Heh, didn’t quite work out in her favor. I managed to shut her up by not giving in and just went to that quiet place deep inside that drowns me in peaceful shadows. I wasn’t going to waste my energy on her petty bullshit.
It’s funny. Remembering being emotional, letting it out poetically and getting feedback about needing to get over it. It wasn’t meant to be hurtful, just frank. Now I don’t get emotional because I don’t want to deal with it (as in myself, not others comments). I wouldn’t be able to stomach it. I’ve actually become that harsh voice that tells me to shut the fuck up, buck up and soldier on. Isn’t that weird? I used to be so soft, so innocent, so fucking naive… Does that happen when someone goes through allot of emotional trauma? A part of me really doesn’t give a shit anymore. I wonder if that has to do with learning that everyone leaves in the end, in some form or another. It’s just better to be closed off then allow that pain to ever happen again.
Jesus…I sound so much like Riddick right now and not in a good way.
You know, it’s probably just a phase. This’ll pass. Sure, it’s been a weird process internally, but we all have our moments.
On a positive note, I’ve lost even more weight and have become more toned. I smile when I look in the mirror and see more definition. I don’t plan on gettin’ tiny, just trim. I’d rather be toned and strong than weak. Not being able to defend myself is not something I like thinking about. I never want to feel helpless again.
You know, I think I’ve gone on long enough -smirks and shakes her head-
Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. I always am. Haven’t given up yet, no matter how tempting…
Everything changes, so who knows…maybe something good is on its way and I’ll have a something good to focus on.
Yeah, that sounds good.
-Anon-
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