A Pile of Turds


Been down, got little to say, other than I feel most times like something your dog left on the sidewalk – shitty, piled up, and ultimately just going round and round in spirals if not circles. Half my time is spent crying or almost crying. The other half is spent doing everything I can to stop myself from crying. Vicious damned cycle.

Hoping the worst of this episode is over; got to that just dull I don’t really feel anything feeling last night. And of course I’m fucking hoping this is it; not only is it horrible to be here, I’ve got my brother watching me and he’ll only let me do this so long before he drags me somewhere kicking and screaming to stop smoking once and for all and get fucking shrunk. That’s a threat, a real threat. The sliver of me that’s not too concerned about protecting myself feels pity for any therapist who ends up with me across the room. I am NOT a nice person these days. No acting out, but in my head I slash and burn across the room, across the city, across the world with hurtful truths and righteous anger. Oh yeah? Take that, motherfucker. How does THIS truth sit with ya? How does seeing you through MY eyes make you feel?

Seems no matter what I try, I can’t convince myself that my world doesn’t revolve around my once a week language lessons. It’s like telling a kid that school isn’t all that important, that once they’re out in the real world all the bullying and bad feelings will melt away and they’ll be able to find themselves and feel good about who they are. You can talk forever like that, but a kid is a kid, and in their world school is everything. My world is so small that my once a week language class is a very big thing. No wonder, then, that I focus so much on it. Without it there wouldn’t be anything to mark it was a Thursday, and if I don’t know where Thursdays are then I’m sure to get lost during the rest of the week as well. And let’s face it: as a person who has never had many friends, often had no friends at all for long stretches of my life, any contact with other people is very important to me because I just don’t get that anywhere else.

..Have these awful flashes, too. Seeing MYSELF through someone else’s eyes. Ye gods. I wince every single time when I think that way. I imagine how I might have looked walking into my lesson: I walked too fast, so I was sweating bullets. However anyone wants to cut this thing up, I learned my new teacher and the other student have been working as a team for a year before I joined – that’s third wheel all the way, even if they don’t mean to make me feel that way. Then there was mention of politics (for pete’s sake!) so of course I tried to give my opinion which, I’ll admit, at the best of times can be a bit much for some. What my brain has shown me is a sweaty, fat, old woman coming in and being pushy with her opinions. Not good first impression material. I’m sure I didn’t come off quite that bad, tho I might have. Can’t discount the fact that I might have.

On the other hand…

Looked up ‘machtig’ in four different dictionaries and I can now say with absolute 100% surety that he was wrong, wrong, wrong. If he’s wrong about the definition of a simple word like ‘machtig’, how many other things will he be wrong about? I know I’m nitpicking, but this is a real stickler point for me. I don’t suffer fools in my own language well, much less fools in a foreign language.

Had to just admit to my problems with this damned language. It’s great – I’m great – if I speak to someone who speaks clearly. But just as there are accents and mumblers in English, the same thing happens in Dutch. Oh, and the accents and mumbles! Been worried sometimes that I’m losing my hearing because so many people are next to unintelligible. Then out of the blue I’ll meet or pass by someone who really speaks well and every single word pops out at me. Wish more of the people who spoke well would volunteer to teach the language. I’ve tagged my current instructor as a mumbler, tho that may be because we’re in a big room and the acoustics are lousy. Don’t know; don’t care. What I do know is I’m not going to allow another week to go by where I feel this frenzied. He gets one more chance. My life may be small and limited, but when I’m topsy turvy for days after one meeting everything goes to hell. This cannot continue.

So I’m writing the speech. In my head, at least. Looking for the words, gathering up the sentences, getting ready to try without resorting to English and without being a complete bitch to tell this new instructor exactly why his method won’t work for me. I guess you could say he was successful in motivating me to at least do this. He sure hasn’t motivated me to do anything else with the language. Just the opposite; my experience felt so negative my brain has almost shut down on language completely and I’m back to catching only the basics.

I feel very small, and lonely.

Very isolated.

Not sure if it’s the language or my problems with my teacher, the current emotional turmoil I’m in or the simple fact that no, I have no friends here and just about anyone I speak to I’m paying for some service or product.

Doesn’t help that my bro has asked me along to the comic shop to meet his circle of friends, his contacts because even my bro can see I’ve got nobody.

Life is a pile of turds right now. Just wanted to lay that out straight.


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