I've been reading Dr. William Glasser's books again. I read some of them while I was an undergrad for my long-forgotten Positive Psychology class. I loved that class, but I can only remember a thing or two about it now. The major emphasis is on taking control of one's life, and since I've felt like I've been drifting along aimlessly for quite some time now, I thought it might do me good to read them again.
There are lots of...things...I need, but I either don't know what they are or don't know how to put them into words.
My mother says I lack ambition. I don't think that's the case, but, hell, maybe I did lose it somewhere along the way. It's not that I don't want things. It's more that I don't know how to get them. I used to think that I knew, but I don't really believe that anymore.
There are definitely things I want out of being J. and B.'s pet. I mean, things besides being petted and adored. (Not that those are bad things, by the way.) I just need things that seem stupid when you put them into words, which is why I'm not writing about them here.
Dr. Glasser says that whatever issues we happen to be having in our heads are because we aren't getting our needs met. And so we behave in fucked up ways because for some reason, it makes sense to us.
That particular theory makes sense to me.
I say that I'm unhappy, but I don't think that's really the case. I think I just need things I can't have, and it frustrates me.
I don't like being stuck in this shitty town with this moronic job. I don't really even want to take the three classes necessary to finish my degree, even though I realize it'd be stupid not to. I think somewhere along the line, my priorities changed, and my life plan hasn't changed to go along with it, so I'm just kind of coasting until I figure it out.
What do I want/need/like?
I know when I'm stuck here in this shitty town with this moronic job, what I think about--and, yes, I am prone to daydreaming--is being a slave girl, almost all the time.
I try to talk to people about it, but it's like they minimize my feelings. I don't like not being taken seriously. Maybe I just don't know how to talk about things to make people understand how important they are to me.
I really don't want to wander around alone forever. What I need is to love, to be loved in return, to serve, to be allowed to be who I am without fear of derision, to be understood, at least a little, and, as a slave girl, to be such an integral part of their lives that they couldn't imagine their lives without me.
Maybe it's too much to ask.