I ran earlier in the morning because I had a bunch of work stuff going on in the afternoon. I somehow woke up at 5 in the morning, again. The forecast was a high of 97 degrees, and it was already getting up there by seven or eight. I took off about at 9am. It was still so hot, but I ran anyway. I am now listening to Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind. The first part of my run felt really good. I was picking my knees up good. No slogging here. But as the run went on and the heat kicked in, I started slogging. At least I did it though, right? I think that’s an accomplishment for sure. I had a little taste of throw up in the back of my mouth. This was before the run too. No idea why, but it’s gross and I kinda felt sick. This was part of the reason I made a conscious effort to take it easy and not push it. This wasn’t the day to be throwing up on the side of the road. I knew that I might be at chance for some sort of heat stroke, especially with running. It was really nice to have my run done in the morning. It’s a big thing that I need to do every day, and I’m always having to mentally prepare throughout the day. “Oh, yeah, I still need to go for a run. Can’t forget that.” But now my thoughts were more along the lines of, “Hey, I already got my run in!”
Ice cream makes everything better. :)
[Think of life as a bowl of ice cream. No, wait. Just think about a bowl of ice cream. Better?]
6/6 Intervals
5 x 0.5 mi at 9:30 | recovery time = half interval time | 5 min warmup and cooldown
My first intervals run! I did it on the treadmill upstairs where I could see outside to the creek. I watched 24 for the first time. It sucked because there were no subtitles and they say everything so breathy I couldn’t really understand what they were saying. But it was dramatic and energizing!
I totally could have run faster than 9:30. Mom said I was smiling. “If you’re smiling during your intervals, you’re not running fast enough.” I knew this, but I figured it was better to run slower and have a good run, than run faster and be miserable and feel exhausted. Figuring out times and distances was annoying, but manageable. And mom was around to cheer me on and help me keep count.
6/4 Six Mile Long Run
I ran friggin’ six miles! This was a really hard run because I was hurting emotionally, and I don’t think crying makes you run any faster. But mom says that it’s not how fast that you’re going on a long run that matters. I could have cut it short, since I was feeling so awful, but I didn’t! So, I did it, I guess.
6/3 Run
I think since I had had a terrible run the day before, it made this run that much harder. I really felt like I was running through water. At least I did it though. I think I really did just need to get my legs moving, even though it was hard. Blech.
So, I had a shit day yesterday. It all started when I woke up at 5:00 am. I couldn’t help it. I just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. Since I had gone to bed at like 1 or 2, I only got like three hours of sleep. I figured I might as well get up and make myself breakfast, and then maybe I can take a nap later. I played videogames for a while, and got my name on all the high scores. Then I made myself cereal and toast and was gonna sit down and read my book. That’s when Mom comes up the stairs and is like, “oh, what about family breakfast?” I felt completely stuck and broke down. I completely forgot about family breakfast and I did want to have family breakfast and everything. But I had already made myself breakfast, and you can’t just throw away food. I think what was the worst is that I had envisioned sitting down and eating my cereal and toast and reading my book, and now that wasn’t going to happen. My brain just shut off and I couldn’t stop crying. My mom was trying to cheer me up and tell me that everything was going to be okay, but it wasn’t helping at all. I just felt awful and I couldn’t stop. And I was feeling awful because I couldn’t just cheer up, because there was no reason to be crying. But I was also weirded out because I was up so early and didn’t get enough sleep. I ended up eating what I had made and just went back to sleep. Crying is exhausting.
Mom’s telling me to wake up because we’re going to the farmer’s market. It sounds like a good idea so I get up, even though I’m still super tired. I’m thinking of sitting at the table and drinking my coffee and reading my book. And then me and Mom and Dad will all pile into the car and drive to the farmer’s market and it’ll be nice. It’ll be okay if I don’t finish my coffee, because I can just put it in a to-go cup and drink it as we’re walking around the farmer’s market. But what actually is the plan is that Mom and I are leaving right away on our bikes. This means that I can’t even start drinking my coffee and we have to put it in the screwcap to-go cup that keeps drinks super hot. My bike here is a shitty, used sixty buck bike that can’t shift because the shifter sucks. I say as we’re biking up the driveway, “Oh hey, remember that I can’t shift gears, so you’ll need to bike slower so I can keep up with you.” Mom’s like, What!!? I don’t remember that! Did you take it back to the bike shop? And all this craziness that I really can’t deal with. I didn’t want to tell her something that I had talked to her about last summer, and this spring when my bike at school had the same problem. I end up yelling at her because I’m so frustrated and can’t deal and she yells back at me because we’re standing at the top of the driveway and all the neighbors can hear. I start crying, and we start biking. It sucks because my bike sucks, and I’m carrying a lot in the bike basket, and I just want my fucking coffee and why can’t Mom understand how frustrated I am? My brain’s shut off again. And my legs are too. Running’s been the same way for the past two days, it feels like I’m biking through water. And it’s hot. And all Mom wanted was a nice bike to the farmer’s market on a nice day and I’m a failure of a son because I can’t even manage that.
When I get there, I sit and drink my coffee and outright cry and it sucks. But later I feel better because I had my coffee, and ice cream. But I got gradually crankier as the biking went on, because it was so hard and mom was way out in front of me because it wasn’t hard for her at all, even though we switched bike. It was humiliating and miserable. And I had six miles to run later that day. But things were a bit more pleasant, and mom and I went to the flower shop and it was cute. We got parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Like the song? And little signpost things to mark what was planted. It was fun.
I was hungry, so I made myself some popcorn. Mom comes into the kitchen, “Oh, you’re making yourself popcorn? But you’re about to go for a run. You’re gonna make yourself sick.” I start crying. I feel confused and all I wanted was some popcorn. Mom keeps talking about time, and how if I have popcorn now, then it’ll be another hour before I can run, and my run will be over an hour, and then we’ll be having dinner super late. I’m feeling awful, and Mom’s feeling awful because she can’t make me happy. She ends up yelling at me. I say that maybe I shouldn’t go for a run because I suck at running anyway, and then we can have dinner at a decent time. She says that I don’t have to have dinner as a family if I don’t want to. That makes me cry worse and I leave to my room.
I can’t stop crying and my breathing is ragged and it hurts and I can’t make myself stop. Mom comes in and I think she’s gonna apologize and give me a hug and tell me that everything’s going to be okay. But she’s talking to me in a really stern voice. She says that she’s trying to be clear and talk over my crying. She says that I need to just pick up and go for a run, that it’ll make me feel better. That when I’m feeling down it just makes everyone else feel down. I can’t just stay in my room and cry. I have to pick myself up and go for a run. I want time to cry. I want time to just curl up with a book. I want mom to hug me and tell me everything’s gonna be okay. I feel awful because just going for a run isn’t how I deal with my problems. It doesn’t work for me. But it works for mom and dad and so they think it’s the only answer. I have to go for a run otherwise they’ll be even more unhappy than I’m making them already.
I go into the bathroom to try to clean up, but I can’t stop crying and I feel so hurt. I end up banging my head on the cabinet door. You know how that happens? Where it’s open and you don’t realize it and you sit up and bang your head? I cry out “fuck!” and cry even worse because it hurts. Mom and dad come into the bathroom. Dad’s talking and I think he’s trying to make me feel better. He says that I need to just leave it. That I’m getting tied up in a whirlpool of my emotions. He says I need to set it down like a backpack. That I can just choose to leave it. That right now I’m choosing to be caught up in my emotions and do something that doesn’t make sense. That they’re not going to go for a run until I get myself together and go on a run too, because they’re not gonna leave me by myself miserable. This makes me cry worse. Because I’m not so stupid to choose being sad. If I could just choose to leave it behind, I would have done so a long time ago. And I know that me trying to be happy and failing just makes me feel even worse than I’m already feeling. I’m crying and crying and Dad’s just standing there telling me to leave it behind. I finally get him to leave and I put on my running clothes and everything.
My run sucks because I feel miserable and I feel like I’m running though water anyway. And crying while running is the most awful thing. I know that what’s best is to tell myself that it’s okay to be sad. That I’m going to be sad and that it’ll end in a while, but for right now, it’s okay. But I couldn’t tell them that. The thought was in my head, but I couldn’t say it. I could only cry. I didn’t want to disagree with Dad, but I knew he was wrong. I knew what he was saying was making me feel worse. But I didn’t want them to feel like bad parents. They said they felt “helpless.” I did a lot of thinking while running, since I was out there for over an hour and I didn’t have anything to do but think. I felt guilty for being a broken kid and making everyone else’s lives harder. I was once broken up with for pretty much that exact reason, by someone I really cared about. I just made her life harder and she worried about me, so it was best for her if I wasn’t in her life. Then I realized that I am legitimately afraid that my parents will leave me. It seems that all I do is make their lives harder. That if I wasn’t depressed, they’d keep me around and everything would be great. But when I’m sad, no one wants me around. It’s a personality flaw. I think I am afraid of being abandoned, so I try my hardest to ignore my emotions. Which is really hard to do when your emotions overwhelm you all the time. I was thinking about May in Secret Life of Bees. Her family stuck with her. They made their home a place where it was okay to be sad. A place where someone always had your back. I don’t think she could survive without that. I need my home to be a place like that. It’s so weird to realize that you are afraid your parents don’t love you. I figured out that what I want is for them to tell me that they love me even though it’s hard. That it’s okay to be sad. I want a fucking hug. I need to integrate this into my personality. I don’t want the person I am when I’m sad to go away or be shoved out of my life. He’s not just a backpack I can set down and leave. He’s a part of me. And ignoring him does not do me any good.
This was really hard to write, so I think I’m going to stop now.
American Psycho
Trauma warning: murder.
So, living with my dad is like taking a life-long movies class. It’s kind of awesome. But sometimes we watch movies that I don’t really like. Most of the time we do though. When I’m in class, like in college, and we’re watching a movie that’s really disturbing, I can’t just say “I don’t like it” and leave. I mean, I could, but it seems like chickening out or something. Or, because it’s for class, I should be watching it. I’ve had to learn over and over again that it’s okay to walk out of class if the movie is triggering. But I still have that same attitude, unless it’s made explicitly clear that it’s okay to walk out.
I say this because I have that same attitude when watching a movie with my dad. He wants us to watch it for a reason. And I hate disagreeing with my dad. It’s always a very weird conversation. We watched American Psycho tonight. He actually hadn’t intended for us to watch it, we were going to watch The Color of Money, the sequel to The Hustler, but it had a scratch and wouldn’t play. It seemed to me like a really bad movie about a psychopath who kills people. He said it was supposed to be about “80’s excess.” It’s a classic, apparently. But it was just really gross. He was mean and sexist, and so was everyone else in the movie. He killed a homeless man. I guess awful stuff happens like that all the time, and the movie was supposed to be ironic or something, but I don’t want it shoved in my face. It was gross and made me feel icky. I don’t know how this is a classic. But I didn’t say any of that, of course. I wanted my dad to be happy, and I didn’t want to seem like I couldn’t watch a movie. And then we would have to switch it out and make it all complicated. Or he’d just want me to stick it out. And he kept fast-forwarding through all the sex scenes. Which were super short anyway, and his fast-forwarding just made me sick. Like a car starting and stopping. Yeah, I think I felt carsick watching it. I told my mom later while we were washing dishes, and she said I could always say when I don’t like a movie. I kinda wish I had just spoken up. But this isn’t the first time.
I so totally have a job!
I had dropped off my resume and cover letter and application at a few places around town. Mostly places where I would lifeguard, since I actually have experience in that. I got a call back from the YMCA for a substitute position, and from Chaos Waterpark. I went in for my interview at the waterpark on Tuesday, right after getting back from my backpacking trip. It went pretty well. I was super nervous, and I think I was overdressed. It didn’t help that I didn’t have any clothes that fit. They just asked me questions, but didn’t give me an opportunity to ask them questions, like about salary and hours and stuff. That was certainly weird. But the managers just seemed to be college students. I then had to do the CPR test, which they didn’t tell me I had to do beforehand. But I did fine even though I didn’t study or anything. On Thursday morning I did my water skills test, which I did study for. Did fine, it was nothing exciting. But that afternoon I got a call and they offered me a job so yay! I have training on Tuesday. At some point I do need to tell them my legal name and maybe talk to them about my being trans. I’m not sure how that will go.
Compartmentalization
Trauma warning: talks of suicide, not mine, just in a movie.
I get really into movies. And I don’t really have that barrier that keeps me from not feeling everything. So when something sad happens in a movie — it doesn’t have to be a movie, it could be the news, or about someone I don’t know — I can’t help not being sad myself. In an extreme way. It happens more with movies, because it’s right there, and for dramatic effect, it’s really in your face. I guess you’re supposed to feel something. I was just watching a movie with my parents (I’m not going to say which one, cause I don’t want to give any spoilers), and one of the main characters kills herself. I could sense that I was about to feel really upset. I just wanted to sit in my room and cry. But what I did instead was not pay attention to the movie. I just had to ignore it. I thought about my earrings and new shoes. I thought about popcorn.
But I felt selfish and unfeeling. Like I just didn’t care about her suicide, that all I cared about was myself. You’re supposed to feel bad for other people. I am trying to think that it’s good to take care of myself, even if that means doing or thinking something unfeeling or selfish. It’s weird though. I’m so used to feeling everything. Usually when I make a breakthrough like this — do something that keeps my emotions stable that’s usually really hard — I feel proud of myself. But this time I still felt weird and icky. Much preferable to feeling awful and sad. But it’s still weird.
Future Ben Drawing
It’s not that great a picture, since I don’t have a scanner and just used photobooth. I haven’t done the coloring yet, and some of the tattoos are just in pencil. I wanted to record this in case I color it and mess it up or something. I’m getting better at 3/4 profile.
The Many Adventures of Argo the Dog 