Did I say that I was living in Limbo? I think what I meant to say was that I am living in Hell. It isn't that I don't know what I want to do, it's that I think I've officially given up trying anything anymore. There's only so much a person can take before they say "enough is enough". I've had enough. We are taught growing up that life isn't fair, but no matter how many times that notion is crammed down our throats, it never gives us any comfort. Life should be fair. It just should. It's not okay to have a broken childhood, to become a hardened survivor because of it and then have to spend your entire adult life unlearning all of defense mechanisms you had to learn growing up. I've learned through years of therapy that almost every single feeling I have is an overreaction. My emotional self is stuck at about eight years old and no matter how much I try to encourage my inner child that "everything is going to be okay", years and years of life experience has done everything to convince me otherwise.
Ignorance is bliss. Unfortunately, I am smart enough to know certain things that keep me from being less than blissful. For instance, I know that a beautiful, cheerful, bright and sunshiny woman can hide a deep dark secret from the world and die from self medicating because her life hurts too much. I know that a man can be married to a woman for over twenty years, help raise her daughter and then leave her when he comes into his inheritance...and never speak to the daughter again. I know that not everyone gets to live their dreams. Some people just end up being bartenders. I know that you can lie beside someone and feel more lonely than if there was no one there at all. And I know that you can cry for hours and hours and nobody will come to comfort you.
I have never been more terrified in all of my life. I'm scared of myself. I'm scared that I see old demons resurfacing and I know better than to indulge them, but I do anyway. I can see myself running, no sprinting, into the center of disaster. I can feel this need to be taken care of as though I were a child, but I'm not a child. It's too late to get that kind of love. And the sad fact is that I will never stop wanting it, never stop needing it. I have been here before. A few times. What's scary about being here now is that I am creeping up on forty. I should have learned to cope by now. I haven't.
It is amazing to me to have as many advantages as I do and still not be able to make a go of things. I am smart, attractive, talented, or so I've bee told. And this isn't me being conceited or anything. Trust me. Knowing these things about myself does nothing to make me feel confident or able. For how I feel, I might as well be the ugliest, stupidest, most untalented person to walk the earth. And I know I am being super self indulgent with these feelings. Oh poor me. I get it, I really do. But there's just this self destructive part of me that has taken the reins and doesn't care. I am broken. And I don't know how to put myself together again. How many times can you super glue something back together before you decide "this thing has just become a piece of junk" and toss it into the trash? Besides, we already know that not even all of the kings horses and all of the kings men could put Humpty together again.
I recently met with my therapist and I felt bad for her. I felt bad that she's taken so much time and energy to get me to this super good place (where I was about nine months ago) only to see it just all come crumbling down. All of her hard work. All of MY hard work. It's all gone to shit.
The one and only thing that I want is to love. That is all. But you can't get other people to love you until you love yourself and show them that you are worthy of their love. With me, it's a bit of a catch-22 cause I'm never going to believe that I am lovable until someone else actually loves me first. I wouldn't love me right now if I were someone else. I don't know how I would feel about me. Lemme think. Yeah, it's too hard to see myself from the outside. I think I would just feel sorry for me and then walk away. It's hard to watch people be in pain. It's hard to watch people struggle. I feel like maybe if someone were to just hold me for about a hundred years, THEN, MAYBE I would feel better. I honestly think that's what it would take.
Here's a question: Would I hold me for about a hundred years?
Yes, I believe if I could I would. I guess that's something.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
The Limbo
Apparently the Vatican decided a few years back that Limbo doesn't really exist. I am here to tell you, it does. I have been living in Limbo for eight months now. It is everything they said it was and more. It totally sucks.
When I decided to quit Lala Land and move far far away I had a vision, I had a plan. The plan was good. But then one thing led to another (see previous posts) and the plan became null and void. And now I am back at square one. My friends are getting engaged, getting married, having kids, moving on, living life, and I'm watching Grey's Anatomy for seven hours a day. What the hell has happened to me?
I don't want to get engaged, get married, or have kids. I did, but now I don't. In my mind the world has officially become this uber scary place and I do not wish to bring any other humans into it. Perhaps that will change, but for now, that's how I feel. I thought I wanted to be a Yoga teacher. It seemed to be a life that would hold some meaning and that would keep me happy and healthy, but now I just don't think I will be fulfilled by that. I haven't practiced regularly in months. I've lost my Yoga mojo. So what the f do I want to do already??? Why can't I figure this out?
I still have my artistic desires. I still want to write. This is why I am forcing this horrifically boring and dismal blog right now. I still want to act. I still want to sing. I still want to do a lot of things. But after being run over by the biggest steam roller of my existence over the last few months, I'm still trying to get my bearings and figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. I feel like a cartoon character who's just been knocked out and while I back on my feet I'm still dizzy and I have those cartoon drawings above my head indicating that my brain is still the equivalent of scrambled eggs.
You know that saying "No matter where you go, there you are?" I hate that saying. I hate it because it's so true. I thought if I relocated I could start fresh. Wrong. What I can do is refigure out everything in my life that I thought I had figured out. While I am grateful for all of the freedoms that I have, there's a part of me that wishes that I didn't have any choices. I mean, I have a hard enough time choosing a shampoo when I'm at Target. There are too many to choose from. And that's how I feel about my life. I can do anything. So, how do I choose?
When my BFF died, along with the grief came this powerful rush of ambition. I felt like I had to live my life for both of us. If she couldn't do ANYTHING, I would do EVERYTHING. Well, that's obviously not realistic and maybe that has become a burden now. I've turned around and done NOTHING...and that ain't good. I'm still dealing with the grief from that loss, but there comes a time, and I believe that time is now, when you have to pick yourself up and just move on. It's embarrassing for me to continue this way. Something has to change, and I have to figure it out, but nothing is coming. I've been through hard times before. Times when I was unsure what the next step was going to be, but then I become inspired somehow and I put one foot in front of the other and I move towards something.
It's scary not to be able to look ahead and have some sort of insight into what your life is going to look like in five or ten years. I think we are expected to be able to do that. I can't seem to. What does that mean? I envy my departed friend in a lot of ways. She doesn't have to work. She doesn't have to deal with having a broken heart or with being disappointed. She and I shared a lot of the same worries. Now it's just me. I know you aren't supposed to say that you envy the dead, but sometimes it's true and I'm not here to tell lies. But, the other side of that is that she doesn't get to experience any of life's joys, and there are many to be had.
Maybe this is a start? I really don't know. But, there is something inside of me that NEEDS to express itself even if it doesn't quite know what it wants to say. Even though this is surely my most boring and craptastic blog of all time, it's something. Maybe the artist inside of me hasn't died after all. Maybe it's just waking up from a long nap. I know one thing for sure, it doesn't like doing the limbo.
When I decided to quit Lala Land and move far far away I had a vision, I had a plan. The plan was good. But then one thing led to another (see previous posts) and the plan became null and void. And now I am back at square one. My friends are getting engaged, getting married, having kids, moving on, living life, and I'm watching Grey's Anatomy for seven hours a day. What the hell has happened to me?
I don't want to get engaged, get married, or have kids. I did, but now I don't. In my mind the world has officially become this uber scary place and I do not wish to bring any other humans into it. Perhaps that will change, but for now, that's how I feel. I thought I wanted to be a Yoga teacher. It seemed to be a life that would hold some meaning and that would keep me happy and healthy, but now I just don't think I will be fulfilled by that. I haven't practiced regularly in months. I've lost my Yoga mojo. So what the f do I want to do already??? Why can't I figure this out?
I still have my artistic desires. I still want to write. This is why I am forcing this horrifically boring and dismal blog right now. I still want to act. I still want to sing. I still want to do a lot of things. But after being run over by the biggest steam roller of my existence over the last few months, I'm still trying to get my bearings and figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. I feel like a cartoon character who's just been knocked out and while I back on my feet I'm still dizzy and I have those cartoon drawings above my head indicating that my brain is still the equivalent of scrambled eggs.
You know that saying "No matter where you go, there you are?" I hate that saying. I hate it because it's so true. I thought if I relocated I could start fresh. Wrong. What I can do is refigure out everything in my life that I thought I had figured out. While I am grateful for all of the freedoms that I have, there's a part of me that wishes that I didn't have any choices. I mean, I have a hard enough time choosing a shampoo when I'm at Target. There are too many to choose from. And that's how I feel about my life. I can do anything. So, how do I choose?
When my BFF died, along with the grief came this powerful rush of ambition. I felt like I had to live my life for both of us. If she couldn't do ANYTHING, I would do EVERYTHING. Well, that's obviously not realistic and maybe that has become a burden now. I've turned around and done NOTHING...and that ain't good. I'm still dealing with the grief from that loss, but there comes a time, and I believe that time is now, when you have to pick yourself up and just move on. It's embarrassing for me to continue this way. Something has to change, and I have to figure it out, but nothing is coming. I've been through hard times before. Times when I was unsure what the next step was going to be, but then I become inspired somehow and I put one foot in front of the other and I move towards something.
It's scary not to be able to look ahead and have some sort of insight into what your life is going to look like in five or ten years. I think we are expected to be able to do that. I can't seem to. What does that mean? I envy my departed friend in a lot of ways. She doesn't have to work. She doesn't have to deal with having a broken heart or with being disappointed. She and I shared a lot of the same worries. Now it's just me. I know you aren't supposed to say that you envy the dead, but sometimes it's true and I'm not here to tell lies. But, the other side of that is that she doesn't get to experience any of life's joys, and there are many to be had.
Maybe this is a start? I really don't know. But, there is something inside of me that NEEDS to express itself even if it doesn't quite know what it wants to say. Even though this is surely my most boring and craptastic blog of all time, it's something. Maybe the artist inside of me hasn't died after all. Maybe it's just waking up from a long nap. I know one thing for sure, it doesn't like doing the limbo.
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