Reality Checks

[kjpepper]

Seems to be the sort of week for them.

Every so often I realize that my realities (yes, there are more than one of them) are carefully constructed around me, and don't have much to do with what collectively serves as Reality®. It's a defense mechanism really... it's so I don't really have to deal with shit I don't want to deal with. Being in the Valley helps with that, it's weird how this place manages to exist in its own little bubble... you would think the rest of the world just came to a screetching halt after the hills have been reached and passed. Which kinda helps when there's stuff going on in that outside world that you really don't want to deal with.

Like parents. Parents are really good at being reality checks. Not just your own either. Other people's too. It's like you can be as crazy and messed up as you want to be, but someone else's mom walks on the scene and you have to sit down, behave, clean up your language, and pretend that nary a deviant thought has ever crossed your mind. (well, except for sundart's parents, but that's cause they fall in the general category of awesome.)

Most of the time I manage to avoid them. I haven't talked to anyone in my own family since the storm broke around my sister and Isiah Thomas - it seemed as good of a time as ever to fall off the radar again. Usually no one really bothers me when I do that - when I come back I get lectured like fuck, but mostly I think they've given up on getting me to be consistant about being in touch. But I do feel horribly guilty about doing it... especially when someone actually does call me and I totally panic-freeze and don't answer the phone. And it's all really because I don't want to ever discuss school with Dad again, because that's another reality check I don't want to have. *sigh* It's stupid, but there it is. Family really represent everything I don't want to have to deal with in my life, shit I've been avoiding and denying quite well, and dealing with them just means I have to deal with other shit.

Well, I never said I wasn't a little screwy in the head.

Anyway, Reality® has risen to bite my ass at least two or three times this week in various forms, and it shows all my careful construction to be the house of cards it is. Now granted, I build some very sturdy card houses, but even so, all it takes is a breath or a table jiggle or even just one misplaced card to bring it all tumbling down... and it feels like someone's breathing a little enthusiastically around all my hard work.

Comments

[austingoddess.livejournal.com]

That used to be my default way of dealing with stuff I didn't like too - pretend it isn't there. I've ended up with a long-term physical condition partially due to that. And was arrested. Besides gotten myself in who knows how much trouble.
Give the really pro-active approach a try. Shit happens, you fuck up, but you deal with it so. freakin'. fast that shame and guilt and the Idonwanna's don't have a chance to set in and start that nasty cycle a-spinning that makes a problem look 10x as big.

[birkwelch.livejournal.com]

When Reality attacks, part III: alls I know is, when Reality bites, it does so with rusty steel bear trap teeth. And it goes for my privates. Which is the basis of my love-hate relationship with Reality -- most of the time, I'd prefer that reality just leave me the fuck alone, and here Reality is, whining and whimpering and trying to hump my leg -- desperate for a little attention. But I'd be sad if, say, I left Reality in the car with the windows rolled up and it died. Very sad. And Reality would probably feel smothered if I spent all my time with it. Moral of the story: for good or evil, Reality is always there. Also, don't name your dog funny names.