And another thing...

I seem to do a lot of living in my mind. Which could be why sometimes my dreams and my reality merge into each other. I wake up in one, scream soundlessly into the other, and finally wake up into the actual world.
I get up from nightmares which at the time are just like life, and many times I want to be woken up and taken away from terrible events which actually turn out to be life in real. Sometimes I'm not in me, I'm looking at myself from above, marvelling at my naivety, and laughing. Almost. I want to tell myself it'll all be ok, words I repeat to others in full faith, and it will, I know. I just know.
Sometimes, after chewing on a problem for hours on end, frustrated, unable to see the light, I just put it aside. And the moment I stop thinking about it, BAM! There it is. Not a solution, just a realisation that it really isn't the end of the world. A light shines down and washes all the tension away. That light, I believe, is the me that is floating somewhere out of my body, the one that shakes its head fondly at my antics, and sometimes in despair.
The worry. It's perpetual, it's never-ending. It's like rush-hour traffic, it's like smoke rings. One leads to the other, much like one drink to the next. About what, you may ask. The health of my family, for the most part. The events of two years ago, and maybe even before that, have left a dent the size of a gaping hole in my heart, my brain. They will be filled out someday, but the rate of progression is extremely slow. But they will be full again, someday. I know this because two years ago I couldn't fathom life going on, but it has. I laugh, I meet friends, I'm willing to be slightly social once again. In 2007, this was unimaginable.
Yet even now, I hate waking up in a cold sweat, touching wood over and over again to ward off superstition. If I think horrible things, they won't happen, I tell myself as I put my mind through torture. Only the unexpected happens, the steely voice continues in my head, so I make myself spin terrible tales, winding in and out of each other, spiralling one on top of the other, till they all fall down and assault me with their dead weight.
Funnily enough, I'm the least affectionate person alive. I'm sure certain members of my family think I hate them, but it's not true, it's not, it's not. I cannot express myself through the spoken word, and all I will offer in terms of empathy may be a bad joke or a sympathetically twisted face, or even a grunt, sometimes. I can listen, but that's all. My poker face has become my shield, and now it's glued to me. Deal with it.
But, I want to say, I'm not damaged, I'm not crazy. A while ago, I would have proudly laid claim to insanity, but now I'm scared, I'm so scared. I don't want to be labelled. I want to always be the me that others see. Awkward, dumb, laughing, stupid. But happy, outwardly. Ok, I don;t WANT to be dumb, stupid, but being without worries is so tempting. Maybe I would bear that. Maybe.
You may find it hard to believe, even in the midst of all these floating strands of inexplicable thought, I have other tensions. And these are real ones, you all may not get it. You may dismiss it as being nonsensical, unimportant, but to me they are real and I hope with all my heart they don;t happen. Football. Tennis. Sport. The reason I still cling to my job. ALL these I cannot live without, and that is the simple truth. It's all too complicated to deal with in this post, so I will pour my heart out in the next, but I do deeply care about all these parts of my life too.
Music.
It saves me, I swear it does. Not just because I use it to drown out all the pettiness of the outside world, but even on its own, without any ulterior motives, it has an immense power. Those pick-me-up songs, the sad ones which yet make you smile, the insane ones which you know you'll always like. Yes, one of my worries involves my computer crashing and taking away all my music.
Books.
I'm reading like my life has a deadline and I gotta finish all that I have. I have bought 11 books in the last 10 days and the end is nowehere in sight. I also can't stop talking about what I read, I offer my opinion on everything, and recommend books to people like I'm full of immense knowledge. I really can't help it. I feel the need to blurt it all out, what I'm reading.
To sum up: BLAH.