I am an idiot for varying reasons, the two most glaring being that self-deprecation is horribly tacky, but more importantly, I’m full of what feels like green bile set in my stomach, heart, throat, and head and am blogging when I should be hurrying up and finishing a paper for class so I can return to bed. This is my prelude to writing.

I’m writing about emotional dependencies and love, where one is exceedingly self-serving and the other exceedingly not so much. Obviously. My research has gotten me far, ‘eh? Processing human experience into data is a horribly contrived concept. I’ve never exactly understood why the area of psychology existed; I’m not sure what makes it a worthy endeavor to analyze the percentage of people who experience X trauma have difficulty forming relationships with Y personality-type because of Z syndrome. Granted, I honestly do regularly see the clinical merit in knowing such things, but sometimes a large (and I think, largely emotional) part of me wants to just yell that people aren’t a formula and that, while emotional responses can be predicted, the outcome is never for sure due to varying factors and that forming theories without solid medical backing or reasoning (ie - psychiatric) is a wasted effort. It’s nothing more than labeling the rather predictable system of consequences that come from any given event that results out of life’s circumstances. That is the way that people just are.

I also believe that my way of thinking is contrived, sometimes.

I’ve experienced both - the emotional dependency and the love thing. I don’t like discussing either, not because of any perceived negative or painful associations of either experience, but rather I kinda hate speaking about my relationships as a whole - good or bad. Now this is an aspect of myself that sort of makes me wonder. I really balk at divulging any sort of information in regards to my personal life in any form or fashion. I honestly do not know why. It also, on a small, very very tiny microscopic level, makes me wonder if I’ve actually ever been in love - I truly feel like I have, but again, I typically refuse to speak about it. What the hell does that mean?

I think it just means that I don’t like to talk about such things. Call it part of my personality. I’m not particularly chatty and never have been. Why should I even worry about this? Because I’m reading a study that cross-sections healthy relationships and the willingness of both partners to openly discuss and share their relationship with other platonic-loved ones - an, apparently, significant aspect that accompanies love rather than emotional dependence.

This entire topic is stupid. I need to be involved in something more pragmatic.

To completely change subjects, why the hell is anime so freakin’ emo? This is why I could never really get into it. There are some amazing plot lines, but stop giving me the weirdo glittering eyes and unrequited, unspoken *insert whatever heartfelt emotion here* bit that manages to interject itself even into vampire/zombie/serial murder themed stories.

Yeah, I’m completely warmed up now.