Where do I even start with this one?
See, the problem with looking at yourself critically like I have been (and the usual self-criticism as well IT'S ALWAYS MY FAULT ALL THE TIME) is that you sometimes have to face some unsavoury things. It's been part of why I've had such screaming depression lately. I've looked into the abyss so much that I wonder not so much that it stares back but more that I am the abyss. It would explain a lot.
I am a person who makes inherently bad decisions. I should not be allowed out on my own in case I make another bad decision... Okay, it isn't that drastic. But I do wonder how many aspects of not only my life but also yours would be instantly and massively improved if I were no longer allowed to make my own bad decisions but instead had somebody who could make decisions that instead start at fair to middling, and then improve with a following wind. Short of going into full time care though, I don't suppose this will really happen. Still, I dunno though, could be good! I might even get an allowance!
That's a good point really; I am dreadful with money. Today is pay day in the land of Truro Cathedral Musicians as well, and thanks to being chained to this desk all summer I have earned what I class as an obscene amount of money. Okay, to anybody who has a real job all the time this will be nothing more than pocket change... But to me, this is it! This is my ticket out of here! How much will I throw into my savings account, and how much will I use to fuel my music buying habit? £76 is an awful lot of money to let go of in one go for a keyboard score, but it is the complete works of Thomas Tomkins after all. Would that be a bad decision? I don't really think so. It'd certainly be a far better decision than the usual cocktail of, well, cocktails.
Even now, just hours after receiving funds through bank transfer, I've already splurged on Burger King for lunch and bought a weighty Pynchon tome from Waterstones. I cannot be trusted with money. I must be stopped, no matter the cost. No pun intended.
Of course, continuing my theme of reflection on my own mental issues, my ultimate bad decision arena is that of interpersonal relationships. I make plenty of good decisions, but there's still a hell of a lot of gambling going on, especially we look at my track record of romantic relationships. Don't look for too long though, as it's not exactly an embarrassment of success, shall we say. Being autistic I'm permanently on the back foot as far as any real certainty of others is concerned. Your emotions and intentions are a vast, unknowable ocean, an unsoundable deep. Non-verbal communication is a particular nightmare that is hit and miss at the very best, and anxiety-inducingly volatile at worst. I've been getting better though! I'm often complimented by work colleagues and Choral Scholars that they would have no idea that I have horrid panic attacks for no reason or that I'm autistic in any way at all - that is, until something happens to upset the fragile balance. I feel like I'm retreading old ground here, but it never hurts to be reminded that just because it looks like I'm coping does it mean that I am coping in any way at all.
I kind of came to a point the other day where I said it was time to stop crossing oceans for people who wouldn't even skip a puddle for me; I'm sure you have felt the same thing, even if you parse it differently. Perhaps you have sworn never to be a doormat again (okay the stakes are higher but the direction's there). Maybe I finally hit rock bottom after the last few years of girlfriends that barely limped over the 12 week mark and something that escapes simple definition this year. I'm not happy. I have gambled again and again with my emotional well-being and come out bruised and bitter. I make judgements and give my heart out to people who will just not give back, whether by accident or design. I have no way of telling if peoples' intentions are serious until there comes a point where there's a 100% black & white situation, and I'm sure that must work the other way as well, that nobody can really tell if I'm being serious either. That's if I have the confidence to approach in the first place! Argh!
I'll save a deconstruction for the last line there for another time. I'll need something to think about and to phrase without too much heart bleeding and a complete avoidance of blame. The last time somebody mistook my authorial intent well... Oh who cares!
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