I've grown to appreciate the insane cyclic tendencies of my emotional throttling. Occasionally I worry that I'm too quick to attribute a swing in my emotions to "nature;" instead of brushing off my own relevancy, I should question why. Because otherwise my own frustration with my self builds up (why do I feel this way still? Shouldn't that cycle be over by now? Shouldn't I be happy again and not weighed down with this deep sad feeling?). I hate not knowing how to fix what's wrong because I can't pinpoint what that "wrong" is.

I'm excited to see my parents tomorrow, but mildly nervous at the same time. For the first time ever, they're coming to MY house. No pretending anymore. I'm no longer my parent's little girl, even though to them I probably always will be. But it doesn't feel fair anymore to be able to blame my development disfunctionalities on them because I'm an adult, expected to have grown out of any difficulties they inflicted on me by now.

I'm nervous that Thanksgiving isn't going to be what I always expect when I go home. I'm horribly sad inside (but trying to ignore it) that my family is so very small. By virtue of the people who will be here I will be reminded of who's NOT and how they're ALONE (grandma in FL too frail to fly here) or DEAD (everyone else) and how for my tiny gene pool the holidays don't really mean huge gatherings, they mean a typical nuclear family dinner with a slightly larger table spread. We've even taken the tradition out of the holiday by moving it to LA, so now there's nothing grounding me in my Thanksgiving except for the stupid matching turkey candle holders we put on the table every year.

Stupid turkey candle holders.

In the vicious cycle that is emotion, I move from sorrow about what is vs what is not to feeling guilty for being sad when I'm so lucky with what I do have.

I was reminded of a great conversation with Jonny this past summer, sitting outside his rented cabin on Conch Key (approx. 60 miles north of Key West, FL) post hockey games and splashing in the pool and just being mesmerized by the black sky and pinprick stars and word play; Jonny said that no one is truly unique, and yet that's what we're all stretching for. We're all trying to define ourselves in opposition to everything else that's out there, when in reality we're all basically the same (are there ever any new thoughts created anymore? or has ever unique idea already been explored?). We try so hard to be different when we derive the most comfort and share the deepest senses of humanity when we can identify something SIMILAR with someone else. I suppose I derive some comfort from knowing that the people around me are provoked into sadness by many of the same things common to our situations (broken city, limited social structure, etc. etc.) but I still manage to feel very much alone in my solitude and questioning and puzzling over how to change my situation when I don't fully know how I want it to change.

Know how you can lull your mind into numbing emptyness? That's what I've felt like for the past 2 weeks. And I reassure myself, it's part of the cycle. Don't worry, it'll change soon. I'm in the phase of avoiding conversations I already know, scrounching down into my little hole in the world, attempting for an obscurity I don't really want but am attracted to because it's just easier that way.

Eh, I'm doubly frustrated by not being able to express myself in words here what I feel like my mind is thinking; so while this post kind of almost makes sense to me, I can tell it's convoluted and rambling. Eh. Maybe it'll work better next time. And then again, this all just starts to feel so redundant and needlessly self indulgent.