Again, and again...
..and I'm on to the
...close enough.
Just slightly frustrated right now.
With myself, as much as circumstances. To be frank. Not as though I expect any more from either, at this particular juncture.. ..but I want more from both.
Is of no effect, though. ..the "wanting."
Still, I am where I am. And it frustrates me to no end, to note there are so many of my cohorts who remain in the same predicament.
Yet, I can't offer them solace in this. We can only wait, each, as best we are as to wait. None of us prepared any better, as to do so--and yet, there is such a tendency for depression to sink in. Even as, knowing well enough as to such eventuality, I prevail...yet I cannot, have not the means for...presiding with others, as to provide alternate course.
Being come to for that hopeful alteration of course has burdened me. I want to provide for more, and yet, I've come through enough of the same time and again as to know it's a self-directed course, and purely so.
That is the crux of therapy, really--a person can pour their heart out, but if seeking to purvey a means of relaying responsibility for emotion and thought unto another, simultaneous, there will be default.
I've glimpsed that, truly, yet again. Folks (person) who truly believed that therapy was the resort unto all answers.
Whereby, all stability and sanity shall come per course of the doing.
It doesn't.
Therapy is not a cure-all. It's not even a means to the "cure," really
Therapy is only a means to the self-direction which might eventually yield a "work-around' for what ails.
The core consists of forcing a self to directly face the demons of one's life.
And there is nothing to substitute for that. Not a meditation, nor a redirection.
Although...there are some who effectively move beyond, per refusal to be hindered, as to exist outside the realm of past influence so far as to be...wholly unaffected.
Two, though.
I have two, blatant. I who has outright asked. Another who has been given a backstory, unbeknowst.
Neither of whom know . And, yet. I didn't sign up for this shit.
But, then, I never usually do...aside of dating them. Which, both of these are excluded from in being outside my preferred gender.
Just...
Do I credit myself with too much?
Are all the things I've perceived as being accomplished merely existant within my own mind?
Especially in that, truly, I fail so much more readily than succeed (even foregoing defeatism)...
And, yet..
Not giving up is a "thing."
If nothing else, I can surely say they see that in me, and have reflexively presented me with all the many reasons they give themselves for giving up...and still I've told them, without outright saying it, that, "No, that's not a reason to give up."
Every time. In every moment. With every word that's given, askance.
And, yet, all the more--some try to tell me, "No, this is a reason I should give up."
And all the more, I grow frustrated, as the same folks....over and over again...give the same reasons for giving up, in different terms, and come to me begging for reasons not to give up.
I've come as close as saying, "Do you yet breathe?...then don't give up," to some.
But it doesn't quite go as that.
Because...for every bit more that I don't break it down to that level, and only go so far with rebuttals against giving up..
..it seems that self-motivation starts to take over. Even if momentary.
Despite that it vexes me, still, to not just have the all and all answer, to end and be.
THAT is what frustrates me, beyond these new questioners. And OF these new questioners.
Knowing...every bit as much as they begin to say "Yes," they will still question. And every bit as much as I begin to lead to that answer, they will confront me with their rationale towards giving up, as to have it vanquished.
I can't do all of the things, all of the time.
Some of the folks whom I've worked with (who have, very honestly, worked -on- me)...are the ones whose doubt drives most deeply. Which...these recent haven't that stance.
So, it's safer. Yet, still--where is my local remuneration? I need something to, if not detract from, then give release to...what it is which devours.
...
As an aside, because...I can.
Part of the present stress of all this, wherein there is the difficulty in just -being- there for those who care and need care...living arrangements.
Being lied to vexes me.
Especially as it's intended to emotionally manipulate me.
I've been living in such an arrangement for just over seven months, now. To whit, just having ended a momentary bit of interaction over rupturing of internal cysts with, "yeah, or you could just go to the emergency room."
Which was countered with, "Yeah, well, I've had multiple family members with this, and they just let them burst and your body absorbs it."
...and, yeah, "...well, you could just die then. Either way. Internal infection and what not."
After having been told she self-prescribed herself antibiotics for eight weeks, to counter whatever the heck she thinks is going on.
Yeah, no. That's SEVERE. That's not a walk-in prescription. Eight weeks of Bactrim?
Again--yeah, no.
Shite. And she KNOWS my parents were (are) pharmacists. I don't know why she thinks that sort of lie is legit.
I mentioned to her before she went back in (with an awake time of around three hours at this juncture) that no alcohol can go with the antibiotics. Not even a beer.
Because, yeah, if she's going to lie to me about the things, it's only fair to call her out, as she does her Bf, about drinking. She goes out with him, she's subject to peer pressure, at least twice weekly.
And I've seen how she handles the pressure...by caving in.
Eight weeks of Bactrim?
Yeah, no. And doctor's don't let you just walk in and tell you what you're being prescribed AND how long. Especially as pertains to antibiotics. ...unless, somehow the medical world has become that degenerate, in so short a time.
Eh. Either which, it just pleads ignorance and willfulness.
And I'm tired of being led around like a calf with a nose-ring.
No, there isn't subsistence maintained. No, there's not intention for there to be, without it being utmost necessary--so long as someone else is willing to pick up the slack, someone else will be doing so. And, yes, pipe dreams are full in effect.
The lattermost, in and of that every bit of happenstance aspiration which has been expressed as partial play of any moment existext is held as having been truth in being.
Life doesn't work that way, though.
I can and do aspire to all the many things, and yet I pay for all the things I've not come up to par on. It's part of the whole, part of the parcel of living. Do or do not, there is no faith in speaking.
Folks have lost faith in me, for that bit. Why should it be any different for someone else in my circle?
Argh. It's only my due, I suppose.
And I want rid of it, too, so I can't look askance at anyone who's done as much. Seriously. I just don't recall being any more than just desperate...knowing no else, expecting nothing.... ...not expectant.
Either which, though, it's certainly my due.
...close enough.
Just slightly frustrated right now.
With myself, as much as circumstances. To be frank. Not as though I expect any more from either, at this particular juncture.. ..but I want more from both.
Is of no effect, though. ..the "wanting."
Still, I am where I am. And it frustrates me to no end, to note there are so many of my cohorts who remain in the same predicament.
Yet, I can't offer them solace in this. We can only wait, each, as best we are as to wait. None of us prepared any better, as to do so--and yet, there is such a tendency for depression to sink in. Even as, knowing well enough as to such eventuality, I prevail...yet I cannot, have not the means for...presiding with others, as to provide alternate course.
Being come to for that hopeful alteration of course has burdened me. I want to provide for more, and yet, I've come through enough of the same time and again as to know it's a self-directed course, and purely so.
That is the crux of therapy, really--a person can pour their heart out, but if seeking to purvey a means of relaying responsibility for emotion and thought unto another, simultaneous, there will be default.
I've glimpsed that, truly, yet again. Folks (person) who truly believed that therapy was the resort unto all answers.
Whereby, all stability and sanity shall come per course of the doing.
It doesn't.
Therapy is not a cure-all. It's not even a means to the "cure," really
Therapy is only a means to the self-direction which might eventually yield a "work-around' for what ails.
The core consists of forcing a self to directly face the demons of one's life.
And there is nothing to substitute for that. Not a meditation, nor a redirection.
Although...there are some who effectively move beyond, per refusal to be hindered, as to exist outside the realm of past influence so far as to be...wholly unaffected.
Two, though.
I have two, blatant. I who has outright asked. Another who has been given a backstory, unbeknowst.
Neither of whom know . And, yet. I didn't sign up for this shit.
But, then, I never usually do...aside of dating them. Which, both of these are excluded from in being outside my preferred gender.
Just...
Do I credit myself with too much?
Are all the things I've perceived as being accomplished merely existant within my own mind?
Especially in that, truly, I fail so much more readily than succeed (even foregoing defeatism)...
And, yet..
Not giving up is a "thing."
If nothing else, I can surely say they see that in me, and have reflexively presented me with all the many reasons they give themselves for giving up...and still I've told them, without outright saying it, that, "No, that's not a reason to give up."
Every time. In every moment. With every word that's given, askance.
And, yet, all the more--some try to tell me, "No, this is a reason I should give up."
And all the more, I grow frustrated, as the same folks....over and over again...give the same reasons for giving up, in different terms, and come to me begging for reasons not to give up.
I've come as close as saying, "Do you yet breathe?...then don't give up," to some.
But it doesn't quite go as that.
Because...for every bit more that I don't break it down to that level, and only go so far with rebuttals against giving up..
..it seems that self-motivation starts to take over. Even if momentary.
Despite that it vexes me, still, to not just have the all and all answer, to end and be.
THAT is what frustrates me, beyond these new questioners. And OF these new questioners.
Knowing...every bit as much as they begin to say "Yes," they will still question. And every bit as much as I begin to lead to that answer, they will confront me with their rationale towards giving up, as to have it vanquished.
I can't do all of the things, all of the time.
Some of the folks whom I've worked with (who have, very honestly, worked -on- me)...are the ones whose doubt drives most deeply. Which...these recent haven't that stance.
So, it's safer. Yet, still--where is my local remuneration? I need something to, if not detract from, then give release to...what it is which devours.
...
As an aside, because...I can.
Part of the present stress of all this, wherein there is the difficulty in just -being- there for those who care and need care...living arrangements.
Being lied to vexes me.
Especially as it's intended to emotionally manipulate me.
I've been living in such an arrangement for just over seven months, now. To whit, just having ended a momentary bit of interaction over rupturing of internal cysts with, "yeah, or you could just go to the emergency room."
Which was countered with, "Yeah, well, I've had multiple family members with this, and they just let them burst and your body absorbs it."
...and, yeah, "...well, you could just die then. Either way. Internal infection and what not."
After having been told she self-prescribed herself antibiotics for eight weeks, to counter whatever the heck she thinks is going on.
Yeah, no. That's SEVERE. That's not a walk-in prescription. Eight weeks of Bactrim?
Again--yeah, no.
Shite. And she KNOWS my parents were (are) pharmacists. I don't know why she thinks that sort of lie is legit.
I mentioned to her before she went back in (with an awake time of around three hours at this juncture) that no alcohol can go with the antibiotics. Not even a beer.
Because, yeah, if she's going to lie to me about the things, it's only fair to call her out, as she does her Bf, about drinking. She goes out with him, she's subject to peer pressure, at least twice weekly.
And I've seen how she handles the pressure...by caving in.
Eight weeks of Bactrim?
Yeah, no. And doctor's don't let you just walk in and tell you what you're being prescribed AND how long. Especially as pertains to antibiotics. ...unless, somehow the medical world has become that degenerate, in so short a time.
Eh. Either which, it just pleads ignorance and willfulness.
And I'm tired of being led around like a calf with a nose-ring.
No, there isn't subsistence maintained. No, there's not intention for there to be, without it being utmost necessary--so long as someone else is willing to pick up the slack, someone else will be doing so. And, yes, pipe dreams are full in effect.
The lattermost, in and of that every bit of happenstance aspiration which has been expressed as partial play of any moment existext is held as having been truth in being.
Life doesn't work that way, though.
I can and do aspire to all the many things, and yet I pay for all the things I've not come up to par on. It's part of the whole, part of the parcel of living. Do or do not, there is no faith in speaking.
Folks have lost faith in me, for that bit. Why should it be any different for someone else in my circle?
Argh. It's only my due, I suppose.
And I want rid of it, too, so I can't look askance at anyone who's done as much. Seriously. I just don't recall being any more than just desperate...knowing no else, expecting nothing.... ...not expectant.
Either which, though, it's certainly my due.