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Language Log

Saturday, May. 22, 2021 - 7:07 a.m.

Having made the thing, that brooch, when I finally laid in bed last night to sleep I realized I finally wasn’t being tormented by my muse. I had peace. I don’t love the thing and I don’t know whether I’ll make more like it. Maybe. Or maybe one was enough. But I’m free of it now.

I mentioned the inlaws are here. The kids are very happy and excited to see them, and everyone is having a good time. Swimming, and U was playing chess with Papa. They aren’t staying at our place, and so it’s better.

Not perfect for me. Better.

I’m still very. It’s the food. The constant feeding and planning. Last night I didn’t eat dinner out of sheer resistance to cooperation; the concerned “well what is she having?” Repeated at least three times and then the “Where is Q?” “Outside” “Where is Linguafranca?” “In the living room” “Come in here so we can all eat together like a family SHOULD” to J, and if there wasn’t a more clearly stated implicit demand on me too I don’t know what. Not wanting to sit there and watch people eat and talk, I stayed in the living room but with increasingly unpleasant thoughts.

His dad was talking about reading The Hobbit to them when we go to Memphis, like he did J and S when they were that age. I mean, I had already told U I would and was looking forward to it. If I weren’t stressed and demand avoidant I wouldn’t let it bother me. There are a lot of things I can read them and clearly this is something that means a lot to him so I’ll behave. Just an example of how every little thing feels grasping and controlling to me in times of anxiety about my autonomy. And then I feel like a jerk for feeling that way, and it all spirals. And yes I try to do my best to keep it all contained and keep my actions in keeping with my true values and my tenuous grasp on reasonable behavior, but it comes out at dinner time or whatever and then people still think I’m a jerk anyway but trust me buddy they have no idea.

I think my willingness to mask has eroded significantly this past year too. No, I don’t want to pretend I enjoy “just spending time” with people and watching them flap their lips incessantly. I do not.

I do wish I could think about anything other than the agony of my own mind regarding itself. Seems like all I do lately. I need to do more transcription.

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