Lack of Awarity

I’m not as observant as I was.
I’m severely realizing this with being out of the house so much lately. Things people tell me that I’m not storing or I don’t notice.

It’s because I unfocused myself while in Thailand. Everything was a background to my mentality. Peoples conversations were blurred clumps of sound.

I stopped feeling connected with that country long ago; I unplugged myself from it. To stop learning the language. To stop conversing.

And I can feel that disconnect running through my veins here.

I will get better. I will train myself to grasp the small realities going on around me.
For that is a piece of me I lost that I am capable of recreating.

Real Life.

Somedays I want to meet everybody.

I want to live in a big city where the movies make life seem like it’s easy and fun and that the soundtrack works and flows through every single part of life.

I want to meet one of the people that follow me. I want to know more about the online world through you. I feel sometimes, that it is the only real world that exists to me.

And I want to know that

because i know it means something.

Please tell me what.

Desire for the Special Attention

I have been really surprised at my desire for attention.
I suppose it’s not really that shocking and that if I had of thought about all the things I would feel upon arrival back in my country, it very possibly could have popped up.

I think perhaps, the intensity of the want is what has taken me by my surprise.
Since I was 16, I have always had attention, at least one guy or the other who ‘loved me’ and I enjoyed that.

There are still ones out there that do. But the fact that I don’t love them back, has never felt more like a gap than it does now.
That is where the Special Attention comes into play.
The attention you get from someone that you have a crush on. That you like a bit more than a friend. That you woud cuddle with and not feel weird about it.
I cuddled with one of my best guy friends who I know likes me-always has- but unlike in previous cuddle times with him, it felt awkward and odd and very obvious to me that I did not want to be doing it.

Special Attention now becomes very select.

I try not to care about the ones I do like, that are slow to text back or are busy with other life things.
I feel more needy but I contain myself and refrain from acting like it. Which has never needed to be the case. I never cared whether I took 40 minutes to text back or 6.

What in the heck!


In Thailand a few months before the end, i would have a few drinks right after it hit noon.
As if that justified having them so early.
Each time I come back to Canada to visit, I would go out a lot drinking with friends.
My mom sees me having a few drinks now, and gets worried that I’ll  fall into that drink groove.
I understand her concerns. I really do.

Sure a lot of this could be coping?
I guess we will find out a few months from now.

I do still feel pretty young sometimes. Like I’ve not matured or grown up fully. Well I know I haven’t.
When you’re doing the things you used to do five years ago?

Actions may come from a dark but meaningfu place, but
it’s difficult to launch out when you’re actions are what’s keeping you In.

Moving Forward

A friend and I were discussing people we still kept in touch with. How she left the Halloween party early because she didn’t talk to anyone there.  We talked about groups and selective friendshipping nowadays.

Heather: Who was in the well known group at school and talked to everyone, even outside of the group?

Me: um.. I donno.. No one that I can think of.

Heather: .. You Jen.. You..

It felt nice to hear, even if I didn’t think I was ever in ‘the group’.
But I knew where she was coming from. I am pretty friendly and non judgemental.

The last two times I have been back, 2011 and 2013, people that knew me in highschool, people i just knew through other people, messaged me.
People I had had very few interactions with.
They were people, both girl and guys, that I hadn’t much ever spoken to or hung out with during the time our lives were in the same line of occurrences.

I find it fascinating.
To know I was pretty shy and quiet back then and people liked me or wanted to hang out with me- but didn’t ever say it.
And I guess they ‘liked me’ in the way they liked what I looked like, what my life looked like and what or however they saw me when interacting with others.
You can only know so much about someone when you don’t talk to them.
I suppose I am being reminded of this each ‘old’ hangout..and that my confidence is boosted because of there divulgence.

I am pressing play to these new entries that have an old quality about them.
Overall, I am looking back to my past, in order to help me move forward.

The Relatable

After my first 6 months in Thailand, I came back for a visit and felt the gap between every single person I was friends with prior to the leave.
Noone understood what I experienced, no one could relate and most of all, no one really asked.

It made going back to Thailand, easier.

Now I come back and realize the daily routines of people, the regular lives, is what I long for. The simple. The past. The things I was so far from six years ago, are now the ways I crave. I want to be around stability. I am far removed from Thailand and I don’t even really care to talk about it. It is off of my list of conversation.
Oh how time and experience does everything.

It’s what life is made up of afterall.

Out of A 5 Year Relationship

I think I’ve become clingy. And I never was before.
I see myself now, as a controlled clinger.  I won’t text a lot, asking what’s up or why you took four hours to respond to a wondering about the weekend. I will understand when I’ve gone too far with quesions and I have the ability to back off.

But as with anything new happening, I have to ask myself why. Why am I like this now?

I seem to have more suspscious thoughts. None that I act on of course, and ones that I shrug off.
I am being abit more paranoid than I ever was. And it is with people I am not even in serious relationships with.

I’m loose.

I stepped out of a five year relationship and I can taste my vulnerability in my bowl of Cheerios.

I want confirmation. I want affectionate texts and touches. I want to feel cared for. I know I am reaching for that every day. It is what makes me feel safe and secure right now. Even if it is only temporary.

And after?
Oh heck if I know.

Unless I Am Asked

It feels weird to talk about my son. I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.
Specially with my sister.
two weeks ago, I made the conscious decision to go on this giant ramble of what Zeek used to do and funny cool things he did and does, and a few ways of how I go about things with him.
Mid-say I realized that It felt weird-that it wasn’t something I did often-and that I almost didn’t like it,based on there quiet reactions. And I had wondered if they find it weird that I don’t talk about him like that, that often.
I know it is more odd with my sister because she is around kids all day. I know she is interested in Zeek and his growth and ability, but it seems less rewarding telling it to her, when I’m thinking of all the kids she is mentally comparing him to. I do know a good portion of that thought process is all me, and that she really doesn’t do that. But I have a hard time sometimes, not thinking that Zeek is just another kid she takes care of.
I’ve never been big on the tellings of milestones- I’ve kept track of a lot of them- but they have never seemed so worthless as they have with my sister.Again, mostly my warped creation with my feelings the only valid thing, and the rest,untrue. Haha.

Sure I am proud of him and find him hilarious at times. Sure I am impressed and over joyed at points, but I don’t often express that with anyone.
I think living away for two years is a part of that. But I also think it’s how I am about having a child.
I try and be careful about mentioning Zeek with friends that do not have children. And that’s practically all of them.

I’ve wondered if it’s healthy. If I should be more talkative and praising of him with others. I don’t agree that the amount at which you talk about your kid depicts the level of love u have for them. But I do wonder if my family thinks I am dettatched or unconnected with Zeek because of it. That I don’t seem to care about his accomplishments or his personality.

Coming here, I won’t deny that my bond with him has felt threatened. And it is obvious to me as to why.
But it still feels yuck at times.
It’s like I ‘have’ to push myself to spend even more time with him because I’m afraid he’ll start liking everyone else more. Which i know is a natural feel. And I understand it. I have to be careful that resentment doesn’t start driving towards him either,because of it.

I also believe that questions have a lot to do with it. People rarely ask me about him. About certain things I feel about things he does. About being a parent. About why I think he does that or how did i get him to be like this or is it just because that’s what he’s like. And why.

I go into detail about some things, I talk a lot or in circles about a subject, but I don’t think I often sprout something new or in depth about personals unless I am asked.
I won’t go into specifics about an evening unless I am asked. I won’t talk about the dynamics of my family or my relationships, unless I’m asked.
It’s not to say I never do. I just don’t think I do often.

On the other end, some people go about conversing differently. ‘if a person wants to talk about it or say something about anything, than the person would or will’
Which to me, seems like a healthier way..

I have a feeling that why I’m like this stems from the way I’ve communicated in the past. At some point- I think just after highschool, I discovered a nugget of truth- That showing an interest in an individual -asking them questions about what they had told me, was what people really enjoyed. I did that for so long that it eventually became a part of me and has made it natural for me not to discuss often-the inner workings of my brain.
I do feel I am really open and if asked anything, I feel free to talk about it.
I also am aware that it’s not all a good thing. It shouldn’t be like trying to pry open a vault. People can tire easy.
People can be lazy.
Getting to know someone can take effort and I don’t think I make it easy for people who feel they shouldn’t have to ask any. Or people who don’t want to at all.

There are times I get down about the lack of perseverance in people. It is usually short lived because I believe I am being too demanding. That just because I have built walls over the years, doesn’t mean everyone else has the intent to bust through them.

But in this unconscious wall making I have discovered a very obvious negative. As I have changed over the years, so has whats behind the walls. There used to be ballrooms-tall, airy and bright.
But with less talking, I created cellars. A place where hiding things was easy. Sure I have a conscience, but to me, these cellar doors have always been open.
It gets a bit twisted.
I don’t blame people at all for who I am.
But they are a vital part of who I have become.
The negatives included. People make it easy to hide things. Because of them, I have been able to store things. Things that are cobwebbed in my brain, but are like new and rustfree in my heart.
I wonder if they are even walls I have built.
Or just a division between me and others. I know that I would rather spill without command. That I would rather tell things without being asked.
I know i have went thru stages of working on this in the past.
Telling without being prompted.

Sometimes I think I expect too much from people. That I’m expecting them to know the intricacies of me and whoever else, quicker than is even possible.
sometimes I am caught up in my own sense of self,that people not knowing how to be a certain way with me, makes me sad.
Like they should know or something.
Sometimes I feel as if I am just waiting, begging,for someone to put me in a jar full of questions.
Questions that will be difficult to answer, not because I don’t know what they are, but because i do.

Inside A Brain

I’m trying to convince people I’m a bad person, when I’m not telling them directly why I think so.
I suppose it is getting my toenails in the door of truth. And that I’m doing it the slow cowardly way.
I feel once I tell one person, it will be easier to tell others. Even though everyone is different,reactions will totally determine whether or not I tell many.

The past week I feel I have went out everyday and saw at least one friend. I’ve drank three nights in a row like I’m 19 all over again.
It is liberating. Tiring, but emotionally boosting.
Like I’m getting somewhere with myself, getting it out of my system.

I’m five pounds heavier than I want to be and people are physically attracted to me.
I have a good Mommy body. And I know I do. But I don’t use being a Mommy as an excuse at all. Nor will I ever.
I will use my kid as a weight if I have to. I will run laps around the yard with him.

Bubble moving thoughts. They are wonderful these days.