Update: One of the friends mentioned in yesterday’s post actually did respond to me finally via Facebook simply to alert me to the fact that he’s busy and having a great life and will let me know if he’s ever not busy. So I basically just got rejected/breadcrumbed by a FRIEND, but I still got all needy and was like, “just let me know if you ever have time.” I guess I deserved the breadcrumbing…
I don’t even like him that much. I mean, we’re friends, but we’re not that close. Stupid anxiety blowing things out of proportion again.
I had to blink back the tears all day today. I really miss…everything. I miss talking to him. I miss laughing with him and hanging out and hearing his voice. I miss it all. I feel crushed by this almost every day. I went out with a friend. We got dinner. I laughed. It felt like a hollow laugh, though. I was there, but I wasn’t there, you know? I wanted to be alone on my couch to cry and grieve and get out all the pain that was inside but I couldn’t. It’s still inside. It aches.
Day 61 – Everything Hurts
If we adapt, does that mean we forget? If we can go on with our lives, does that mean we don’t care? I struggle with this a lot. I am not okay.
There is not a day that goes by where I don’t regret how things went or ever feel like my old self or feel okay in any way. But I also laugh. I think about my future. I take naps and walks and buy clothes I like. I book trips and go out to dinner. I take vacations. I watch Parks & Rec with a smile on my face. I dream of waffles. I do all the mundane things, too. I do my dishes and clean my bathroom and try to remember the last time I washed my sheets. I text my friends about their everyday problems, and I genuinely want to help them even though a second later it all seems so silly. Lose 5 pounds. Don’t lose 5 pounds. Who cares?!
I cry at inopportune times over chicken piccata or walking down the sidewalk. I can’t watch certain commercials (I’m looking at you, Sarah McLachlan) without it ruining my whole day and I can’t visit certain places (so long, Hawaii) without having a mental breakdown. I think in equal parts with a brain of absolute all-encompassing grief and with hope for my life and future. Devastation is like that, maybe. Maybe everyone goes through this. Maybe we have to survive, because we’re animals, and that’s what we do. And survival means adapting. Means moving on. Means ignoring or forgetting. But then we’re humans again, and we can’t imagine that we could ever have moved on.
I think my mom feels the same way, but we don’t talk about it.
Day 56 – Grief and Comic Relief
Ups and downs, baby. Today was a mixed bag of crazy, but in the end, I’m on my couch watching Netflix, so I’m not going to complain.
Oh, by the way, living up to my potential SUCKS. What is with people deciding I have potential? Then I just disappoint them. My mom explained the amount of disappointment today. But I was eating a giant chocolate chip cookie at the time, so all I heard was, “yum, this is so good.” Probably coming from my mouth, but who cares? Life hack.
I remember the glory days when my good grades and hard work and big dreams were rewarded, and I didn’t have to PAY ANY BILLS or WORRY ABOUT REAL LIFE THINGS and then during spring break, SOMEONE ELSE PAID FOR MY VACATION TO HAWAII. Why did I want to grow up so fast? Oh, yeah, living with my family. Well, now I’m being dragged back and there are STILL BILLS and NO VACATIONS so I feel like that did not work out at all in my favor.
I’m not complaining, I’m just saying being an adult is THE WORST. I get the “freedom” to eat whatever I want and do whatever I want. If I can afford it. Which I can’t. So… What exactly did I get out of this? No idea.
Day 47 – Adulting and Potential SUCK
Late at night, when I’m lying in bed, I like to replay all the mistakes I’ve ever made in my entire life on loop, and feel embarrassed about them all over again. Do you ever do that? I still cringe about something I did when I was 4, and then more things when I was a teenager, and still more things that I do every single day.
It’s like this endless cycle of things I wish I’d said as an angry retort at some point during the day – like when that lady cut me in line at the store I wanted to say “Fuck off, you entitled piece of shit. You are not better than me, so stand in line like I’ve been doing before I make you,” or someone in a skirt yelled out to me that I look like a man, I wish I’d said, “I still look better as a man in a skirt than you do as a woman in one”…Or something much better and wittier – so a series of things I wish I’d said to idiots throughout the day, and then a reminder of one very embarrassing thing I did at some point in my life, followed by a flashback of one VERY embarrassing thing I did at some point in my life, pursued closely by one VERY EMBARRASSING thing I did fairly recently until I’ve convinced myself that all I do is embarrassing things and I’m never leaving my bed or my house again. And once that thought is complete, I remember the LADY at the STORE…
I cringe at myself for the things I’ve written before, the angsty teenager that I was, the dumb things I’ve said or done over the years (usually with the best of intentions) until all I can do is hope that everyone else hates themselves as much as I do or that there’s a magical pill out there in the world that can stop this loop but not actually kill me. Are there people out there who live without anxiety? Who don’t hate themselves and everything they’ve ever said or done? Come at me, bro.
That is not me. I am cringing about 10 different things as I write this. I’m very capable of cringe-typing multitasking.
Day 38 – Embarrassment runs amok.
Independence Day… There are so many things to consider. My political opinions and leanings aside, I would normally ignore today because I’m not that into fireworks, red, white, & blue cakes, themed parties, backyard BBQ’s, matching theme outfits, crowding onto the beach, and trying to figure out which restaurants are still open so I can order take out and sit in my house.
Except I’m REALLY into the last one. I ordered take out with two of my closest friends and while we shoved Thai food into our mouths, we sat inside in the AC and played Trivial Pursuit and Phase 10. I turned 80 last night, apparently. Who knew? But I really do love me some board games. And card games. (Competing gives me life!)
And then they left and it became hard again. It’s hard, man. Life is hard. Do you ever get through what you think is a good day – or as good a day as you can imagine – and then the sad thoughts creep back in and it crashes your day? That happens to me all the time. Like today. Friends, food, escape room, more food, laughter… Then they leave, and I listen to fireworks from my couch and think about the years I spent as a kid with my family and it has that nostalgic glow, that rose color that memories can take on, and I get deeply sad. Sadder than I was happy, it seems.
It can also happen when I think I’m having a good day and then something “bad” happens – anything from a driver flipping me off to someone telling me I’m doing a bad job at work to actual tragedies – and it crashes back down. Ever experienced that? It sucks. It’s too bad I can’t hang on to that good feeling the whole day. Like the entire day. Start to finish. Sunrise (10 AM when I wake up) to sunset (3 AM when I go to bed). Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of times when I get to live happy moments, but I look forward to the day that they are more than just moments. Wishful thinking…
Day 24 – Happy sad.
What a day. Everything I did today was so that I could watch Bridget Jones’s Diary. I know what that sounds like. But it was a goal, okay? It was something to shoot for. And then when I finally turned it on, I fell asleep almost immediately and missed most of it. But I got to my goal. Another small win.
I had a somewhat productive meeting. A somewhat productive afternoon post-meeting. A somewhat productive evening spent with friends playing trivia in a dive bar.
And then the less productive sadness settled in as memories hit me. Memories in which we set off fireworks for the 4th of July. In which we spent summers at a mountain cabin, eating candied apples, going boating on the lake (my dad eventually sank that boat…three times), playing cards, joking around, talking, fighting, silent treatment. I’d take any of it.
I’d take any of it.
Day 23 – Mixed bag of productivity and sadness.