Neurotic Owl

flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread

Some New Year’s thoughts that are probably depressing, so you should probably go read something else instead. Probably.

Events which I will not go into and also just that regular Gregorian New Year’s stock-taking that we’re all so fond of have me back on this thing, so naturally I drew a cartoon and now I will babble about said cartoon.


This one comes with qualifiers, because I would, in fact, love to be with someone; I just don’t know that I’m capable or willing to pay the entry fee.  Assume it says ‘would rather be single than be in a bad relationship’ and you’re halfway there.  Maybe ‘would rather be single than be constantly berated and belittled and embarrassed by a controlling asshole’, or ‘would rather be single than end up in an abusive relationship’.  And I have many, many examples in front of me in my various friends’ wonderful marriages and partnerships that a good relationship is possible for lots of people; I’m just not sure that I’m one of those people.

And no one goes into a relationship thinking, “Boy, this’ll end poorly,” do they?  It’s not as if I can know in advance, and so I think I get hyper-alert to controlling behaviour or similar red flags and put the kibosh on people really quickly.  It’s even easier not to date at all — I don’t have to be scared about how it’ll end if I never begin.

And I am human — I want warmth and love and companionship and, dear god, sex, but I don’t know if I have it in me.  Do you ever feel like you’re always a little disconnected?  Like, even in a really close group of friends, you’re always on the edge looking through a window, or like it’s really easy to lose touch with people, and that must be because you never connected enough in the first place, and it’s always inside you that the connection is lacking?  Or maybe you’re just too selfish and horrible, or too damaged, to trust anyone enough to spend your life with them, unless that someone is a cat?

Anyway, that got maudlin fast and now I’m all with the tears, which is going to make it harder to dye my hair in a few minutes without making a huge mess.  Don’t worry too much — it’s my least favourite time of the month, so between that and holidays and tiredness, I probably a titch overemotional right now.  I mean, the above pathetic rant is all true, but I doubt I would have gone on quite so much if I weren’t all hormone-y.


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