My cat is miserably in heat right now. We were supposed to have the operation done by now. I let Diane be in charge, as she helped us out with vet stuff when we had Abby, too. She got a bunch of prices for me, but it was figuring in de-clawing, which I don't want to have done to her. I feel as though its an unnecessary surgery, and were Hug to ever get loose for some unbeknownst reason, she'd not be able to survive without claws. And, I don't know...it just feels cruel to me to have this done to her for the salvation of our furniture. Maybe I'd feel different if it were my drapes and my furniture. I hope I'm never that attached to material possessions. For some reason, mom doesn't want Hug to be de-clawed either. So good. Hopefully this will be her last heat. I feel she's not in her right mind while going through this. She doesn't play, barely eats. She gets up on this one chair where mom keeps envelopes full of papers and rubs her face on them and keeps knocking them off, no matter how many times I shout "No" and get her off the chair. Sigh. I put her in her room just now...just to keep her out of our hair for the time being.
I feel so yucky today...more mentally and emotionally than physically. Though I'm now tired, probably because I feel kind of sad. And, stupid me, I watched American Beauty on top of the sadness. That movie hits on so many themes. And while the coping mechanisms each of the people in the movie practiced were kind of...not necessarily positive...at least they were finally LIVING, you know? But, really, only some of the people were healed in the end. I think Thora and her video-taping boyfriend were finally living. He was escaping his father's wrath, and she was living for herself instead of under her lukewarm parents' rule, who actually only took an interest in her on occasion and because they felt they HAD to, not because they WANTED to. I think Mena Suvari (or however you spell it) was somehow healed at the end...maybe having admitted she was a virgin and finally living up to Who She Really Was. The two saddest cases were that of Kevin Spacey's wife and closeted homosexual neighbor. His wife WAS living...she was having great sex, shooting her guns...but when she got caught and then realized her fling with "the king of real estate" was less-than-perfect, she was deflated. I still am not sure why she was going to take out her aggression on her husband at the end. And the poor neighbor...he was FINALLY going to own up to his sexuality...he was so lonely and desperate for affection and love and CLUNG to Kevin Spacey...and then Kevin didn't even end up being gay in the movie. How bleak an outcome for him! How incredibly morbid! And then he shot him, not necessarily because he was angry at him but because he was beyond frustrated...I just remember the incredible look of relief that was on his face when Kevin said, "Our marriage is a cover-up, trying to portray a normal marriage that is everything-but." (or however he phrased it) His look was saying, "That's exactly what my marriage is. You mean other people have my problem, too? We can secretly love one another, and no one will have to know." And then, BOOM, his only hope was gone. How desolate! I knew he was gay from the near beginning of the movie...just by all the stuff he kept saying to his son...and constantly accusing his son of being gay even though there was no reason for such a suspicion. Freud called this technique projection. Another example would be continuously accusing a spouse of cheating on you because of your own guilt from cheating on your spouse. Not being able to live freely as yourself is so disheartening. I want to just live my life the way I want to live it and not worry about what anyone (i.e. my family) thinks. People who have their shit together don't care what anyone else thinks. Because they don't need anyone else's approval to be happy. They are merely happy living their own lives and being their true selves. They know they need nothing. We go through our lives putting so much faith in other people...and in roles we think we're supposed to fill. And if these people fail us, we are heartbroken. But we are no different when these people hurt us. We are not lost; we are not broken. We are the same...and we are going to be okay. Then why do we allow ourselves to be so hurt? Would it be the end of the world if my family would disown me for not being what they think I should be? I wouldn't die. I'd still live...I'd still have my great friends who love and accept me just the way I am. I'd still have my education and drive to succeed and become a Psychologist in order to help people realize Who They Are and their potential. What I may not have is mom's money anymore if she were to decide she wanted nothing to do with me. I don't know if she could be so cruel. But even if she were so cruel, I could find another way to get money...or I could find another job...do something. Even if I lived on the streets I'd still be alive. And even if I died, I'd find a new life to live...no matter what, we're fine. Then why do we live in fear? I don't want to live in fear any longer. Why don't I just let it go? It kills me that I can't. It makes me cry and just want to give up on everything I've worked so hard for. I place so much of my happiness in the hands of others. And I am, thus, continuously disappointed at them when they can't be what I need...what I think I need in order to live in euphoria and thrive. Sigh...oh, Regina, here you go being overly dramatic again. At least Kevin Spacey, at the end, realized he was "great" ("How are you?" "It's been a long time since anyone's asked me that. Great...I'm great.") even though his wife was cheating on him...and he worked at Smiley's Burger place...he realized he didn't need to sleep with Mena Suvari...that all the happiness he thought sleeping with her would bring him was already inside of him. He just had to realize it was there. I want to realize...
God, my mom always watches these morbid-ass movies. She's watching one right now with that cute chick from Clueless and Girl Interrupted in it. The girl just took a ride from a stranger, and he shot her.
Some of my friends swear by ecstasy. I was ready to do it this week. It fell through, so I didn't get to do it. I'm wondering if this happened for a reason. I have always been deathly afraid of E. I have this picture in my head of the girl I want to be. I want to be in control of my life. I want to only do things that are going to foster my health. I want to stop depending on outside sources for gratification -- Burger King, caffeine, romance novels, fantasies, makeup (I get a lot of gratification from buying a new shade of eyeshadow, which sounds ridiculous). I don't know if I want to add ecstasy to my list. I just hate it, though, because we're going to be at my friend's birthday party soon, and almost everyone there will be rolling, and I won't be. I may change my mind before then and decide to do it. If I do decide, it will be with much unsurety. I don't like not having control over my body. I just wrote that sentence without much thought, but it says so much about me...maybe that's the whole reason I hate the idea of drugs...because they rob me of control. And I know how I am about control. I was talking to a friend on instant messenger the other day who doesn't even know me well, and she even commented on my obsession with control. This is why I feel so miserable around food...my food intake is the only thing I have no control over. I try to be perfect to compensate...by being vegan or giving up like...refined sugar and bleached flour and processed stuff and the list goes on. I'm wondering where in my life I got the notion that I don't have control. Because, obviously, if I thought I had it, I wouldn't be rummaging to find it all the time. Maybe that's why I always fail in relationships...I go crazy. I end up hating them because I can't control how often the person calls me or says "I love you." Oh, waaaah, I hate when I write this. I'm a f*cking psychoanalyst. For some reason I wasn't even comfortable cussing right then. I went back and added that star. Oh, Lord, what's up with me tonight!? I need to sit back and take a deep breath for a moment and just chill out.
Ooooohhhh Kaaaaaay. I am slightly better. I think I'm going to work on gathering poetry submissions for publishers tonight. I think I have a few poems that have a lot of potential. I will chill out, I will chill out. Tomorrow is a full day. I'm going to get up and shop for the following: a yoga video, a black ink cartridge, a hooded jacket (or jackets, if they're cheap), and possibly a Polaroid camera so I can be all cute and take pictures of myself each week after I start Weight Watchers to see the progress in my body. Then I can also take naked pictures of myself to send to guys over the internet. JUST KIDDING. I might not buy the camera, though, because I think they're expensive. And then I am going to Ryan's birthday party...then to work...then to Rose's Superbowl party. Then Rose, Ruth, and I are going to talk about what to do about mom. I am convinced she is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. Anyway, I am done writing now. I feel better. Part of that could be because I'm talking to Nick and, well, anyone who knows him knows...um...how he is.