{"id":2599,"date":"2013-11-20T06:10:19","date_gmt":"2013-11-20T14:10:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/michellejolin.com\/wordpress\/?p=2599"},"modified":"2013-11-19T21:41:25","modified_gmt":"2013-11-20T05:41:25","slug":"this-is-how-you-remind-me","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=2599","title":{"rendered":"I will always be lame"},"content":{"rendered":"

I will never be safe
\nI will never be sane
\nI will always be weird inside
\nI will always be lame
\n–Everclear\/Father Of Mine<\/p>\n

This time I’m mistaken
\nFor handing you a heart worth breaking
\n–Nickelback\/How You Remind Me<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Seriously, a quote from Nickelback?<\/p>\n

Well. Please don’t think I am a fan. This is the only Nickelback song I like, and it fits what I’m going to post about. I think. I never quite know at the start. In this case, of course, it’s not anything good I’m reminded of, so I guess Nickelback is appropriate.<\/p>\n

The thing I wondering about today is:
\nAre we all broken?
\nAre we all weird inside?<\/p>\n

I am going to speculate wildly here, based on years of observation, self loathing, reading and extrapolation:
\nYes. We are all broken.
\nYes. We are all weird inside.<\/p>\n

At least, all of us worth knowing. Anyone who isn’t at least a little banged up in the vicinity of the heart clearly hasn’t ever cared about anyone enough to leave their hearts open to breakage. I don’t think that applies to anyone I care about.<\/p>\n

Some people don’t seem to be, but I bet they are, too, most of them.
\nIt must be tiring for them to pretend to be happy shiny people all the time.<\/p>\n

Some people manage to really put the damage behind them and be genuinely happy. I am, most of the time, and don’t get me wrong–I have not undergone anything really traumatic. I have had a pretty lucky life so far emotionally speaking. Just the usual heartbreak and weird stuff from childhood. Most of it is well in the past, but there will always be certain people who leave me metaphorically bruised and bloody around the edges. Unfortunately, they know who they are because with time I’ve come to operate under the belief that it’s better to be vulnerable and open to hurt than it is to be closed off and numb. So they know how much damage they can do, and they know I am trusting them not to.<\/p>\n

So there’s of course the fucking B word to deal with, as there is with everything. You have to find a balance between the vulnerability that makes you so open and trusting of people that you’re taken advantage of, and being so closed off that the only thing left of you is a cartoon facade like a politician.<\/p>\n

Early in life, my personal disequilibrium started as a skew to the doormat side, until an excess of hurt led me to the total shutdown side. Now I seem to be veering back into vulnerability as the lesser of the two evils. At least if you are vulnerable you get to feel something. There is a point, though, where a certain saying comes into play. You know the one. About the definition of insanity being when you repeat the same act over and over while expecting different results? You have to learn the difference between second chances and twentieth chances and figure out how many chances your heart is comfortable giving. Because every chance you give someone really hurts when it turns out the person didn’t deserve it. Or maybe they deserve it but are too broken and weird inside to respond. <\/p>\n

If you skew to the overly guarded side, especially to the point where you spend your life living in an artificial exoskeleton of a personality? Well. I relate to being reserved. I relate to being shut down emotionally. I don’t understand how someone can live with a personality that isn’t entirely their own. My natural personality is reserved and reticent, so it’s not much of a reach for me to shut down emotionally. It’s “me” on steroids. It’s me wallowing in too much me. I’ve managed not to stay in that mode in a permanent manner. Some people live that way forever, and it makes me sad. And if the Plastic Person is someone I care about, it’s almost unbearable to me. <\/p>\n

I’d even take it further and say that I could never care about someone who came into my life as a Plastic Person. There are people I got to know and love when you could still get to the real human inside. It’s painful for me to be around them. I don’t feel like I ever know where they stand. I don’t know if they really want to be in my life, or if they just want me to want to be in their<\/em> life. It feeds into all of my biggest insecurities when I am around a Plastic Person who I love. You never know what they really think or feel. They deflect emotion with whatever their personal armor is. <\/p>\n

It might be humor, or logic or sarcasm. It might be a refusal to talk about anything personal. They might reveal deeply personal feelings in ways that are so oblique and obscure that you have no idea they area even talking about themselves. <\/p>\n

If the only way you show how you feel is through Facebook likes and retweeting inspirational quotes, then what the fuck is the point? The point, to me, is:<\/p>\n

Love.<\/p>\n

And I’m putting it on its own line because it’s kind of the only thing in life. Along with having food and shelter, love is what life is. It’s the only thing not actually required for physical survival that matters much. It might be the love of your family or the love of your friends, or it might be True Love….but if you are living your life as a Plastic Person? No one will love you. They might love Plastic Man, but they won’t even fucking know you<\/em>. And you know what? They probably won’t love Plastic Man for long either.<\/p>\n

You can’t love something that isn’t real for very long.<\/p>\n

Even the Plastic Men started out as Real People at some point, right? I have to assume that they turned to plastic as a result of some sort of life damage. It would take a lot of Bad to make a person hide himself that completely. It’s probably hard to slip back out of it. As hard as it is to keep handing your heart to people year after year. Probably harder. Maybe they’re doing the best they can.<\/p>\n

I keep reminding myself of that,
\nbut Plastic People are hard to feel sorry for because they don’t seem real.<\/p>\n

They can inflict a lot of damage through that shell.<\/p>\n

The rest of us aren’t shielded as well as they are.<\/p>\n

I wonder if they care about that.<\/p>\n

Really. I don’t know.<\/p>\n

That’s the whole problem with Plastic People.<\/p>\n

You never know.<\/p>\n

Side note, because someone was asking: the fact that I am apparently comfortable sharing very personal emotional stuff online does not negate my natural shyness. In writing, I am a lot more “talkative” than I ever am in person. I can also edit what I write a million times if I want to. I can’t do that with the spoken word. <\/p>\n

On the other hand, the written word is very durable.
\nIt can get me into a world of trouble.
\nAnd has.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I will never be safe I will never be sane I will always be weird inside I will always be lame –Everclear\/Father Of Mine This time I’m mistaken For handing you a heart worth breaking –Nickelback\/How You Remind Me Seriously, a quote from Nickelback? Well. Please don’t think I am a fan. This is the … Continue reading I will always be lame<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2599","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-words"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7lr3R-FV","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2930,"url":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=2930","url_meta":{"origin":2599,"position":0},"title":"Paradise lost","author":"Michelle","date":"December 8, 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"Love ain't on my side, love ain't special, love ain't great Lost in a fog, amusing spite to find my way Where did you go? I still curse you to this day --Josh Rouse\/My Love Has Gone Sometimes love can be hard. Yes, it's wonderful Yes, it's the most important\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Words"","block_context":{"text":"Words","link":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?cat=7"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":3240,"url":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=3240","url_meta":{"origin":2599,"position":1},"title":"normal is as normal does","author":"Michelle","date":"January 2, 2014","format":false,"excerpt":"When you're half a woman and you're half awake With a face full of tears and a chemical shake Given half a chance, that I can take --Elvis Costello\/You'll Never be A Man You think that you're living, you don't really know Big tears mean nothing You can count them\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Words"","block_context":{"text":"Words","link":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?cat=7"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":10940,"url":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=10940","url_meta":{"origin":2599,"position":2},"title":"An imaginary conversation about upheaval at work","author":"Michelle","date":"November 10, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"My work BFF is moving to a different team and my heart is broken. 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And it's one of\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Imaginary Conversation"","block_context":{"text":"Imaginary Conversation","link":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?cat=18"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":9678,"url":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?p=9678","url_meta":{"origin":2599,"position":5},"title":"An imaginary conversation about compliments","author":"Michelle","date":"April 8, 2015","format":false,"excerpt":"We need to teach you to accept a compliment.I never get any--and stop rolling your eyes at me!You get them all the time, and you act weird every time.\u00a0It's not an act, you know. I am weird.\u00a0Yes, but you are especially weird when someone says something nice to you.\u00a0Like what?I\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Imaginary Conversation"","block_context":{"text":"Imaginary Conversation","link":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/?cat=18"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2599","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2599"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2599\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2599"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2599"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/michellejolin.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2599"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}