I can haz cheez with this whine? November 4, 2010
I’m throwing a pity party. Won’t you come join me?
#FML My life is not where (or what) I want it to be. Who’s fault is that? Mostly mine. We all experience circumstances outside of our control, but when you’re life is kind of effed up due to your own bad decisions, that you seem to keep repeating, there is no one else to blame and nowhere to hide.
In some ways now I’m happier than I’ve been in the past. I am “broke” but not destitute. I have a crappy little apartment, but there’s a roof over my head. I don’t dine on steak and lobster every night, but I have food to sustain me. I’m in no shape to run a marathon, but I’m alive with all of my limbs and (most) of my faculties. J
Am I surrounded by friends? No. I have acquaintances and a couple of close friends. Do I have someone who loves me? Yes. But we’re not together. (Well, we are, but we’re not. Too complicated to even begin to explain). But they have actual lives to live. They have their own priorities, concerns and obligations. When the time between our contact becomes too long, in spite of all rational thought, I tend to feel ignored or abandoned.
I live in isolation, because that’s what I like. I enjoy my own space, and for the most part my own company. I can be prickly and dour and sometimes uncomfortable in my own skin. Being alone makes it easier to deal with. It’s what I’m used to. But sometimes – there is a loneliness and a sadness that I can’t keep away. That’s when it fills up my insides, overflows and sends me to the darkness (Wow – could I be any more melodramatic?!) So what is my brilliant solution for all this morosity (is that even a real word)? More isolation!
I’ve learned that when I’m sad, or prickly or cranky it’s just best to stay away from people. My social niceties and tact filters go on the fritz and things may come out harsher than I intend. And I won’t even care (too much) if feelings get hurt. That’s not really a good way to preserve relationships that actually mean something.
I want to hibernate until April or so. Or May. Yeah – just in time for my birthday. Which no one will remember or care about. It’s not that I sometimes think it would it be better if I was never born, it’s that sometimes I think it wouldn’t make any difference whatsoever. I know I’ll get over this; I always do. Usually right after a big crying jag. Been on the verge, but haven’t fully bawled yet.
I’m not a total schmuck. I fully realize there are tons of people who have it so much worse. But in certain moods, that doesn’t really stop me from feeling down. I tend to wallow, go through it as long as it takes and come out the other side.
It may also be tied to seasonal changes. Winter doldrums, I like to say. Holiday season coming up – families and community and giving; fa-la-la-la-la and all that.
I miss having family. My mom, dad, friends around a full table, good times and conversations. Made me feel safe – life could be perfect and wonderful and everybody loves you. Sometimes you don’t get that in adulthood. For a few years I would have dinner with a close friend and her family. I always felt welcome and comfortable. But it’s just not the same. Don’t really want to feel like an add-on to someone else’s happiness. So – Thanksgiving, Christmas – wonderful holidays but they’re just more days to chill. At home. In isolation.
I guess confession is really good for the soul. While writing this, I had a couple of crying jags. So the good news is, I may be coming out of the funk. I think I can see a glimmer of light in the window “of a cottage on the shore of a dark Scottish lake”. Nevermind. It’s an obscure reference from a song by The Police