Little Girls (a.k.a The 5% Hour)

So the Psyche is an amazing thing, dontcha think? Don’t ask me what got me on this and related topics, but they’ve been stuck in my head all week. As always, it’s a convergence of factors. Hormones, for one. Yesterday, I couldn’t decide if I craved orange juice or Ho-Ho’s more. I finally gave up and grabbed another dollar… very interesting combination, but not too horribly disgusting while hormonal, as it turns out.

But I think another factor is clearly: too many memories stirred up… memories that unbury unfortunate truths (I’d blatantly plagiarize a certain ex-vice president but, again, I’d like to avoid a bunch of political google hits) about myself. Truths that I can happily ignore 95% of my life, then analyze to the point of nausea during the remaining 5%.

Happy 5%... aren’t you thrilled to share it with me?

Amway, my most recent musings have been about the little girl inside. Not an awful lot of her left. The drama queen still does her best to show her colors. She still adores roller coasters, cartoons and 31 whole choices of flavors at Baskin Robbins. And somewhere, deep down inside, she still wants to be saved. Not really saved from my life… I have a great life, and I’m pretty happy with it. More like: saved from myself. From the emotional cage I’ve erected around myself, which keeps most peeps (especially men) at mac-truck length, and my own emotional balance in a steel grip. It's amazing how old depressions and mis-trusts can insidiously worm their way through the underbelly of one's mind to brush so many aspects of one's life. They just kinda lurk in the background, seemingly inoccuous, then strike with a frightening ferocity at THE most inopportune moments.

I've talked about this before, haven't I? Well, I'll try to come up with a new allegory next time.

Amway, so there lies the dichotomy of my life. There's the little girl who hates being so lonely and so completely out of control of my own psyche... and who wishes there were a magical answer or person who could fix it. And then there's the adult that has become so self-sufficient to the point of isolation. It's pride, of course. My deadliest "sin", I suppose. I do my best to rely on nobody… and, in fact, with most of the relationships I’ve developed, I tend to fill the supporting role and refrain from an awful lot of leaning of my own. And I like that… I like being supportive (to a point). And, as screwy as it sounds, I like suppressing most of my neurosis under that 95% of happiness so that I DON’T have to lean on peeps. Of course, every once in a while, this 5% comes out, and my friends are treated to the true head-case that I am. More points towards suppressing it, if you ask me.

Classic crap, no? Probly not the most healthy outlook, but I’m betting it’s not overly uncommon, either. It works. Amway, the irony of that little girl who wants to be saved from the emotionally vacant adult she’s become, is that only that self-same emotionally vacant adult can save her. She just doesn’t have a clue how.

I just love it when my head starts in on me with this psycho-babble crap. *sigh*

All right… well, the 5% Hour is over. Mebbe I'll actually get around to blogging about my new Project at home, next time.

Later.