Sunday, March 4, 2007

loser either way


DB thinks I talk too much.

P-doc thinks I talk too little.

T-doc had about two years of writing. She started it, soon after I began seeing her, by asking me to keep a log of what was happening in my life and give it to her. Don't think she realised how long it would carry on for. Last year I made a huge effort to talk instead. Sometimes I manage. Sometimes I just sit and cry.

Almost everyone I know probably wishes I'd just shut up sometimes. 'Cos when I am faking being a normal person, it's a skin I slip on. I can talk crap about almost anything, for hours. It's only the important things that I can't articulate.

P-doc and t-doc are the only people I enforce the no-faking rule for. Used to be with Duckbuddy as well. When someone who knows almost all of you tells you to f-off ... hurts, really hurts.

And today, my other cyber-buddy from the online shrink site I sometimes hang out at, is also pissed off with me. About talking. Says I don't do it about myself, that I seem to slide the conversation across to her all the time. I hadn't noticed that. I was thinking that we weren't ever going to be best buddies, but that we had a reasonably friendly and supportive relationship. Guess I was wrong.

Twice in a week. At least the week is over.

So the most intimate and meaningful relationships in my life are both with people who get paid to put up with me. I do have family and other friends, but mostly, I try to keep it so that they don't know what a loser I am. They get to just presume it, as my sociability level drops to below zero.

Only useful thing i have done all day is feeding birds, and then going to fetch two mynahs. Am expecting the littler one to be dead by morning - don't know who had him, or for how long, but I suspect that he has food in his lungs. And littlest finch-baby died today, also expected as she has not been wanting to eat since Friday. Her brothers are making up for it though. It's awesome watching them. 5 days ago they were babies. Suddenly their legs have become useful, and their wing feathers have sprouted. However, they still believe in 30-min feeds of baby food - and if it doesn't happen fast enough, they start climbing out of the nest. Tomorrow I will bring little finch mentor girl inside, to start teaching them finchy lessons. Hopefully that will include sweet little whistling noises instead of the chainsaw sounds they currently emit.

Have to be up early, not only for feeds, but also to take Black-collared Barbet from Friday back to bird-vet for his leg to be pinned. The break is too high up to be splinted. I was kind of pleased that my assessment wasn't too far off. Now if I could only train myself to stop calling the last joint in the leg the shoulder, I'd be getting somewhere. For some reason, it just comes out wrong. I keep confusing Bosslady, by asking her to check a bird for me because I think it's shoulder is fractured. And I only realise it when she is palpating the wings and saying all OK. And then I say 'but it can't walk' and she gives me one of her sweet but amazed looks, and you can see her wondering if I have learned any anatomy in the last 2 1/2 years...

Promised I'd come to the centre first, and collect anyone else who needs to see the vet. So needs to be an early move - at least I only have 8 birds that have to come with.

Think it is going to be a swimming pool bath again in the morning. Hey, better take advantage of the weather while it is still so warm.....

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