One day behind. I can do this…
That “one day” rapidly became 4 by the time I posted this.
Is it weird to be impacted by someone else’s news? I mean, it’s someone I love. So that probably makes sense. But I feel a split. I feel supportive and annoyed. I feel sympathetic and unsympathetic. Like, “I’m sorry this happened to you. It’s bullshit. Now pick yourself back up and fix it.”
Because once you’ve been to hell and are partway back, nothing seems that ridiculous anymore. Everything seems simple. Friend is being an asshole? So what? Fix it or end it. Hate your job? Figure out how to make it better or quit and find what you want. I know that sounds simplistic, but sometimes the simple answer is the best.
And those don’t even seem like problems to me. I feel like my heart has been dragged under a semi-truck for the last 2 years, 2 months, and 24 days. I’m not the person to complain to.
But I also love him and really do feel angry on his behalf. I really do feel like something hurtful and awful and frustrating and life-changing and painful and ridiculous happened to him but I also think that until you lose the most important person in the entire world to you, you have no idea how trivial those things are. I shouldn’t be such tough-love. He deserves sympathy. I’m not sure I have it in me.
Oh, and I’m obviously an asshole.
Day 102 – Sympathetic but not
I literally have no idea what to do if I’ve overstayed my welcome. I feel like that was the theme of this weekend.
One of my friends came to visit and because he was having problems in his relationship, he stayed the whole weekend. I love my friend, but I definitely wanted the time to myself (and my other visitor…). I KNOW I can tell him to leave/tell him it’s time for him to go, but I legitimately think that message should be kind of obvious when there’s another kind of visitor in town and he’s third wheeling it hard. I third wheel it all the time, so calm yourself, but I don’t do so for long stretches at a time, unexpectedly, at the last minute, when someone else (wink wink) is visiting them.
AND THEN I BECAME THAT PERSON. Different circumstances. A good friend of mine, let’s call her Francine, invited my visitor and me over. And, 7 hours later, we were still there. Now, the time passed quickly and I asked her to kick us out when she was sick of us, but I don’t think that people can really do that. I think it’s hard to tell people they need to leave your house/go home when there’s no acceptable way to do so. If you have manners, you can’t very easily tell someone to leave. If you have manners, you should leave when it’s time to go, if you can somehow judge that exacly.
I know I should have just left. But then am I rude for randomly bailing? What if I WASN’T overstaying my welcome? Then am I rude for leaving? I swear to you, this anxiety is out to destroy me.
On the other hand, it was a distraction from the every day things that feel like they’re destroying me, so at least I had a short break from those.
Day 63 – Overstaying My Welcome
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
You can TRY to escape your family, but they will follow you wherever you go. Like an STD. Did someone smart say this? No? It’s obvious? Cool.
My family has its problems. Everyone’s does, right? Well, step aside with your small My-Uncle-Got-Drunk-At-Thanksgiving-And-Revealed-I’m-Adopted NON-PROBLEM, because my family wins (loses?) this one. Suffice it to say, that’s why I’ve been absent. I want to hold myself accountable. I want to be honest.
So, originally I was at a wedding where there was no service. That was my first reason I couldn’t post. BUT THEN – MY FAMILY… They (metaphorically) flew in during the wedding reception and caused a scene (only in my life), so I had to rush back and catch a flight out to deal with the craziness/emergency. I’ve been preoccupied, though I suppose that’s not really an excuse. I let it be an excuse. Even though I’m still here dealing with it all and the aftermath (though it’s not over yet), I will continue to try to post nightly as I usually do.
Anyone else feel like moving to a small island somewhere and selling t-shirts on the beach? No? Just me? That literally sounds like the dream. My family will potentially not be able to find me there. Silver lining. Plus it’s AN ISLAND, so it’s its own silver lining. Oh, and did I mention, that MY FAMILY WILL NOT KNOW WHERE I AM? Though they seem to have the noses of a bloodhound when it comes to finding me right when crazy shit is going down…
Days 40-44 – Accountability and Family Insanity (par for the course)