First, and most importantly... My baby and I have been fighting again. Not... the little baby, the more human-sized adult baby (watch me make sense!) whom I love to pieces. The problem is that we both believe that the other is going to get mad/irritated enough to simply leave. It's a bit of a conditioned response, since I think we're both trained to expect that to happen. But paranoia begets defensiveness and oversensitivity; everything is a threat, everything is a signal that the end is coming soon. If I get mad and try to push away, it's always because there's some part of me that actually thinks this will make things better. Not having contact and not being close equals not hurting, right?
Except that isn't really what I want. It's my delightfully cowardly way of keeping myself "safe." This is not good girl behavior. This is not good friend behavior. Bottom line: this isn't exactly me at my best. And I do want to be my best. I really do want to be loving, patient, understanding, sincere, trusting and trustworthy... but that isn't me, now is it? I can be rather cruel, oblivious, dismissive, completely undependable and untrustworthy, and unconcerned with the feelings of others. Not all the time, of course, but they seem to be dominating factors of my personality. The mental illness is huge factor, as it's absorbed me in a way I hadn't truly believed possible. But someone else shouldn't feel obliged to "take care of me" (even if I need that, at least for the time being) and shouldn't feel responsible for my well-being. Sometimes I don't want to get hurt, but mostly I just want to stop hurting the people who love me. The only solution I can see is to keep myself distanced from others and keep them distanced from me.
And yet, here I am, craving closeness, craving touch and finding it disgusting at the same time. Wanting to hear his voice. Wanting something I can't have and shouldn't ask for, but asking for it anyway, indirectly, teasing, flirting (god forbid), and being generally difficult. Sometimes it bothers me and sometimes it doesn't, just as sometimes I know who I am and sometimes I don't.
In other news, the baby (rat sized) either has mites or a problem with his diet and has been chewing/scratching patches of his skin raw, bald, and bloody. Scared the hell out of me. >_< I was afraid the poor thing had ticks or fleas... clumps of dried blood resembled parasites and I was afraid to tug at them and hurt him... and to find myself with the body of a tick in my tweezers. Anyway, after cage cleaning and some small changes in diet (bigger changes to come) he's looking slightly better. I keep having to distract him from scratching... it's like trying to keep a kid with the chicken pox to quit scratching! >___<
There is more insanity, believe it or nuts, but perhaps we'll venture there tomorrow. *sigh* Real life problems are just infinitely more important at the moment...