I had a big chance today, a new development that if successful would have given me something wonderful to do for the rest of the semester. If not successful would leave me trapped once again, with no ways out besides trolling random people for help in my journal. I'm not upset because I failed utterly. My problem is I deliberately and cunningly planned my failure, and I don't know why.
Today I had the chance to go to the school and add into a history class that dealt with the People of the USA after the Civil War to the present. That is one aspect of history I am deeply interested in, and would help me get requirements for transferring to a state university, to get a 4 year degree. The teacher looked great; the books not all that expensive.
Not to say there weren't problems. The class started last week, and I was trying to add into it after my (only) class: Study Skills got canceled due to lack of enrollment. If I had showed up today it would have left me one week and 6 class hours behind, in a late starting class that goes at twice the pace of a normal class. On the other hand, it would be my only class, and I'm a fast comprehensive reader, so I would likely have no problem catching up. Depending on how today went, I was even considering auditing the class, should it prove a waste of a great class to take the half-semester version of it and waste most of the class then catching up.
But none of that happened. Yesterday I was a little nervous, but the St. John's Wort was keeping away most of the anxiety. I was feeling rather pleasant actually, maybe a little punchy. We laid down linoleum in a room whose carpet had been saturated with cat excrement. I washed a huge array of dishes. Delicious biriyani and chicken for dinner. And during the night it rained!, and that sort of beautiful weather always brings a cheer to my heart. I was pretty busy, and industrious, but then the weird stuff started happening.
I didn't realize at first, but after the dishes instead of making my lunch I went to finish a program I'd been working on. Then, around 10:30pm it occurred to me "You have to get up at 5:00am, if you don't go to bed now you'll have a hard time getting up in the morning." And then I started reading comics, to make sure I would stay up even later. I puttered around the house (not making my lunch). I talked with friends online about political stuff. I knew I was supposed to go to bed, that if I didn't wake up in time that class, and thereby the rest of my semester, would be shot of any redemption.
Around 1:20am I finally tore myself away from giggling at Goodbye Cruel World. I went to brush my teeth and considered going onto the computer again. But no... that wouldn't be necessary. Necessary? What was I thinking? As I went to bed, I considered how daylight savings time had come just yesterday, so instead of 1:40am, it was 2:40am. I then set my clock to 5:22am, with the thought that I could easily claim that I simply forgot DST, and missed my ride at 6:30am. What a tragedy; it's almost as if I hadn't planned to do that.
So I woke up this morning at 6:22am, my clock saying 5:22am, and my ride was still here poking around. I felt scared then that my plans could be "foiled" and pretended to sleep until they gave up hope that I would wake up, that I wouldn't betray them again, and left. Even afterwards I was spooking at first, thinking maybe they just sat down somewhere and any minute now my owner was going to come in and say, "Hey, get your stuff together; let's go!" Eventually my elation at having destroyed such an opportunity for myself gave way to despair. And after mourning on the kitchen table for a little I tried to figure out what had just happened.
I don't know; honestly I don't know. It's like one of those voices in you head telling you to do bad things, and you can't resist the compelling nature of their words. But I don't hear anything when that happens. I don't turn my head, or track sounds that don't exist. I don't see ghostly figures or flickering half-dreams of people who are there one minute and not there the next. I just become this... person who does my utmost to ensure I will fail in the worst manner possible. Taking away my own opportunity gives me great pleasure. I can usually do self beneficial things for a while, but the temptation to fail just keeps getting stronger and stronger, until like a cocaine addict plans without wanting to, how to get eir next fix, I start planning how to make it not work without getting caught and forced not to actively destroy myself.
So yeah... it wasn't a clever ploy to get more sleep; it's 7:40am now and I haven't any desire (beyond being bone achingly tired) to sneak back into bed. In a way the tiredness is welcome; it reminds me of my failure, and helps me hurt myself more in little uncompromising ways. If I don't treat myself very well, sometimes it appeases that need enough that I don't start planning elaborate failures.
I missed my last chance to take, or audit that class. I missed a counseling appointment. I disappointed my owner, my ride. She's going to be on my case later. She doesn't believe I feel a need to hurt myself, and therefore thinks I must be betraying her today for some personal gain, or to spite her. I think it's her I feel the worst for: having to deal with this rotten broken being that I am every day, always frustrated when it does something that makes no sense, or changes from friendly and helpful to bitter and reclusive in the same day. Always tired by my naturally obsessive focus. This one is not a nice person to live with I think.
I'm going to call the counseling office. They won't help though, because I only get to talk to the receptionist and say, "I slept in too late, and will have to cancel my appointment," to which they will answer, "Your appointment has been canceled, have a nice day. *click*" So helpful they are. :p It's not their job to be helpful over the phone of course, especially since the receptionists are militant about keeping "unworthy" people from communicating with a counselor.
As for the class, the professor doesn't even know I exist. I can just skip it and be that much further away from not being a burden on society. I just want to live comfortably... give my fair share.. have some time left over to engage in personal enrichment. But it seems like such an unattainable goal, impossibly distant in the future, and beyond my capability what with my tendancy to hurt myself for no reason, and other incomptencies such as burning out easily, inability to judge or gauge things, a disorganization of mind that essay grading professors find distasteful (if my essay grades are any indication), and a blindness to subtle social cues that render me cipheric in almost any social situation.
That's the best I can salvage now, now that I've come back from that command to fail. It can't be the anxiety; because I wasn't anxious. It can't be just forgetting because I did most of that with full knowledge of what I was doing. I don't think it is my emotionally abusive father. It's been 5 years since he told me if I left his control I would do nothing but fail, never achieve anything blah blah. That stuff hurt, but I didn't internalize it, don't believe he was doing anything other than in a rage of desperation trying to keep control. And after 5 years, even that hurt starts to heal. Not that I particularly like the man; there are other men who are much nicer people to be around.
I can look for external causes all day, but nothing really seems to ring true; I've dealt with my demons and have learned to live with most of them. Still working on Inevitable Death, and the Trivium (shudder). I could call it burnout, but all I've been doing lately is some household maintenance, maybe a train ride a few times every week or so. No desperate pressure, no candles burning at both ends. Could it be that I'm just so sensitive to burnout that the slightest stress puts me over the edge into self sabatoge? I can't accept that I'm not capable of functioning in society, because if that is true, I'm as good as dead when my owner's smoking addiction finally offs her. I've got to be able to do something to improve... but what? How to stop wanting something self destructive?
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