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Dr. Mangofarmer, at your service. Lay down on the couch, and tell me about your mother.
2004-05-24 - 12:39 a.m.


WARNING: Mindless, whiny psychoanalysis ahead.

*

The sister and I were having one of those big, long Important Conversations tonight. We were mainly trying to discover the reasons why we are both fucked-up white trash. For each of us, the reasons are very different. Since we're talking about me here, heh, I would like to offer the results of my own psychoanalysis:

1) I don't want to turn into my parents. This is a given, really, and the sister hopes the same thing (hence the white trash part). I thought this was my biggest problem in life, but actually it isn't. I'll get to that. :)

2a) I feel trapped here. I feel trapped at home in Craptown. The only place I don't feel quite so trapped is in Gradschoolville, where I can be an adult. You know you're at least somewhat ready to be a grown-up when you can say that. My sister, the poor little twerp, still wants to be a kid. But that is one of her problems and we are of course talking about me. ;)

2b) I feel trapped partially because I don't have a driver's license. Not that I would have a car, or could afford to have a car right now. At this point I really would just like to be able to drive a car, you know? I mean, really. Somewhere in the depths of my neurotic head, I have attached the ability to drive to a person's self-worth. In high school, I would watch while others would mooch rides off people but I would suffer through riding the late bus home because I didn't want to bother anyone with my "worthlessness". I hate asking people for rides now. I feel guilty, even if they look at me like I'm insane for taking the bus to the grocery store and say "I could have given you a ride!" I don't want to bother people, that's all.

2c) Not wanting to bother people (or being afraid or shy of them) sometimes makes me appear to push them away, or not seem to care. Oh, but in some cases, I do care. In one particular case I care so much it hurts but I'm too afraid I'll be bothering him (yes, him) if I pick up the damn phone and say that! Ouch.

Now we're coming up on the kicker, something I never figured out until just now.

3) I don't want to turn into my Former Best Friend (we'll call her Meryl). Meryl's father is some sort of evangelical Protestant minister. This obviously was always very important to Meryl. Therefore, I thought it should be important to me. I thought I would impress Meryl by pretending to share her deeply-held religious views! I was even ashamed to call myself a *gasp* Catholic! Whenever I had a crisis of conscience, the question for me wasn't "What Would Jesus Do?", the question became "What Would Meryl Do?"!!! Meryl would have boyfriend after boyfriend, and I would never understand why. The one boyfriend I had was a member of Meryl's church! Meryl is married now! Meryl's husband is studying to be a minister (like her father). Meryl leads a very upstanding, white bread, "normal" life.

~I don't want to turn into Meryl. I want to think for myself. I don't want to be white bread! I want to be rye! Or pumpernickel! Or pascha! Or nan! Or a baguette! Meryl was also the one that would mooch the most rides off of people and I also don't want to do that either.

So that's the basic gist of why I'm crazy. It was disjointed and it probably makes no sense. Or then again, maybe it does. But this is my own damn diary so who cares! Snehblehmeh pa-ha!

*deep breath*

I feel good now. It's good to know why you're crazy, sometimes.

Goodnight all. :)

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