Embracing the sad

There was a time I didn’t know how to cry. I noticed when I was 10. I was in a movie (part of a college student’s portfolio) and couldn’t muster up any of the tears that were necessary to play my part.

I faked it, but not well. Oscar worthy performance it was not.

But after that it became my mission to teach myself to cry.

Ironically it was around that time that my world turned upside down. My mom got sick and suddenly wasn’t around much anymore. That’s a story for a different time but my lack of emotion became really obvious. Things were happening that I should have cried over but I was like a rock. Just, nothing.

I couldn’t feel a thing.

I know now I was probably protecting myself. The thing was, I realized that while not feeling the pain was nice I also never really felt any good emotions either. I was blank. Empty.

Empty is so much worse than pain.

I can’t remember my exact journey away from numbness. I don’t think I ever had an epiphany that woke me up. But I did wake up. I taught myself to cry. Crying is a cleansing act. When your capacity for feeling reaches new lows it also reaches new highs. It’s impossible for it to go one way.

It’s been so long since I inadvertently learned that lesson that I’d kind of forgotten it. I’ve read several posts recently about being alone and finding a group, etc. They make me sad. I still have yet to find my “tribe.”

It’s something I want so badly and feeling sad about it all the time sucks.  Tonight I found myself sitting here wishing I could just shut that part of me off and not feel sad anymore. Just be numb.

But then it came rushing back to me. Numb isn’t all that great either. In fact, it probably sucks more.

So I’m embracing the sad. I accept that it’s part of who I am right now. I know, like everything this will pass. I will move on and grow and change and all that. I’ll look back on this lonely time and remember how much it sucked.

I’m guessing it’s like dating. When you want a relationship so fucking desperately it tends to elude. Relationships, at least good ones, seem to come to those who aren’t actively looking for one.

I have a feeling that once I embrace this feeling and become comfortable with my situation that’s when I’ll find my place. I will cry my cleansing tears and I will stop being ashamed of how I feel.

I’m lonely.

I’m sad.

I want a group of friends.

That is okay.

I will have a group someday.

And when I have that and I’m sitting around having coffee with friends and laughing until our stomachs hurt. Or reaching over to text my friend something neat that happened. Or being there to listen when my friend is hurting I will feel that too.

If the low of being lonely hurts this much then the high of finally finding my tribe is going to be pretty amazing.

Wanted

I’ve been staring at this screen forever.

Blank.

That’s what I’ve come up with so far.

With the obvious exception of the words I just typed.

Blank.

Actually, it’s another one of those instances where my mind is too full. So many thoughts swimming around in my head. I wish I could catch them all and put them on this screen.

But they don’t want to be caught.

And so they swim and they take up all the creative energy I could have. I need a space I can write. I mean really pour my heart out.

Or I need someone to whom I can pour out my heart.

It’s tough not having any real girl friends. Because there are certain things that just don’t sound the same when said out loud to your husband or guy friend. Boys are strange creatures.

Strange but much easier to befriend. Why is that?

I can’t be the only girl who has trouble keeping friendships with other women. It’s so annoying.

I should come up with a friend application…

Wanted:

Friend, must be female. Good balance of listener and chatty. Unlimited texts and cell minutes a plus. Those with a tendency to judge need not apply.

Or something like that.

Girls are tricky. I know I am. And other women? I understand even less.

I wish friends weren’t so important to me. It would be a lot easier if I just didn’t mind.

I’m open to almost anything at this point. I just need someone to listen.

Anyone?

Boxes of emotions

I picked up some old boxes from my mom’s house the other day. My life from childhood until 18 is in those boxes.

It’s so hard to express how full of feeling these boxes make me. The emotions tied to each piece of paper are intense.

Happiness

I remember the nights of staying up late, promising forever friendship and sharing secrets.

…the giggling and laughing until my stomach hurt and I couldn’t breath.

…my best friend running up and in breathless excitement telling me she was moving to Florida.

…how I felt like someone hit me in the stomach with a 2×4 at that moment.

…crying and missing her.

…getting letters.

…meaning to write back.

I never really did.

I lost that friend because I never made time to stay in touch.

Regret

Insecurity

I remember never feeling quite right in any clothes.

…feeling fat.

…feeling ugly.

….getting a compliment.

…instantly feeling beautiful right afterward.

…going on “diets”

…eating nothing but junk food.

…learning what it meant to feel sexy.

Confidence

Crushes

I remember the brief looks and almost innocent touches.

…the whispers and not so subtle giggles and glances.

…notes written between friends.

…acting disinterested.

…acting way too interested.

…playing hard to get.

…falling in love.

…falling out of love.

Heartbreak

I remember feeling sad and alone and angry at the world. I remember feeling like every little thing was the end of the world. It was all that was. I now realize how little and unimportant those things were.

I also remember thinking I’d get to things that weren’t very important. I now realize how infinitely important those things were. I wonder how different my life would be if I wouldn’t have neglected the people who were truly important to me.

I wonder if I’ve learned that lesson yet.

It’s amazing what looking through old letters, cards, pictures and home videos can bring into your mind. So many emotions, packed tightly away where I didn’t have to think or deal with them. I’m slowly pulling them back out and examining them. If I can finally learn the lessons I should have learned before I packed them away, maybe in 20 years my new set of boxes will bring more positive feelings than negative ones.

Hopefully.

Pointless Ramblings

I’ve had a long couple of days at work. Or weeks. Or months. Whatever I’m tired.

Being tired makes me much less inspired when it comes to blogging. I have no stories.

No, that’s not true. I have a million stories but not one I can put on a public blog.

I have no funny videos. I have some cute pictures but I’m saving them for Wednesday. So basically I’m idea-less. Fun.

When that happens I try to go through my archives and find something I started and never finished. Often that little bit of inspiration makes writing much easier. Sometimes I even get a completely different idea out of reading through a couple half finished posts.

This time however I noticed a trend. It’s a trend that I’m not sure is a good one. The trend is sad. All these half finished posts are depressing and that’s why I didn’t finish them. See, “real” people read this blog. When I say real I mean people I actually see face to face on a semi regular basis. This makes it hard for me to pour my guts out on here. Yesterday’s post was just a glimpse of what’s been churning under the surface for awhile now. I was thisclose to not hitting publish. And several times since I’ve been thisclose to taking it down.

The sad thing is, it’s not even that deep of a post I don’t think. Not compared to some of the amazing blogs I read. It’s not everything I wanted to say. I hate reading vague statuses and posts. That’s all I feel like I publish anymore.

I think part of it is because I’m so tired. It’s harder for me to laugh things off when I’m so tired I could cry. I really enjoy my job, especially since it’s grown so much over the last several weeks. It’s exciting. It’s also exhausting. It’s mostly mental exhaustion.

It’s biting my tongue when I want to talk.

It’s finding a balance between friendship and getting shit done.

I want to be a good manager. I also want to keep the friendships I’ve started. I’m afraid I can’t do both. Not that I’m awesome at keeping friends anyway…

I need to get back into acting. Or dancing. Or taekwondo…. Or something that allows me to be incredibly physical in my stress relief. I mean, being married does offer some activities that are good for that…. but, you know, mixing things up a bit.

Or something.

So basically I’ve just rambled for 400 words or so. And…. I’m not sure where all these words have gotten me exactly. I guess to the conclusion that I need to take a class.

Or start an anonymous blog…. who’s with me?

Sighs

Joel had to work late tonight. This isn’t anything new. Thursdays he usually has to work late. That just means I get him for a long lunch and more other times so it’s not that big of a deal.

Since I expected him to be gone I made plans to go out with a friend. Her and I have a lot of fun together usually so I was looking forward to it.

Notice the was?

Currently I’m sitting on my couch, in my pajamas and watching Gossip Girl while eating chips and salsa.

Don’t be too jealous.

But yeah, my friend got a date. I’m actually happy for her.

But it sucks to be blown off.

I just feel so lame lately. I miss my old life as a flight attendant. Now my life consists of so much of the same thing over and over. I have a routine.

A routine!

I wake up, shower, eat breakfast, go to work, come home, relax a bit, hurry up and go to bed only to start all over again the next day.

I try to be in bed by 7pm most days.

Seven PM!

I wake up now usually before I used to go to bed six months ago. Not that I miss my extreme night owl habits. But why do I have to go from one extreme to another? I hate the boring routine already. I want variety in my life. I want to travel.

Yes, I know I just got back from India. For most people that would satisfy their travel lust. Not me. I’m like a crack addict. A trip like that makes me crave even more. Even just a quick trip to somewhere domestically would be so wonderful. I can’t though because of work.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of fun at my job. I work with fantastic people and I just got officially promoted which will give my job a little variety. I believe in the concept that we’re working toward with the store and I want to see a place like that thrive. Being a part of it is exciting.

I still miss hotels though. I miss airports and new cities. I miss walking through the terminal in my uniform like I own the place. I miss nodding at other crew members in a we’re-all-in-the-same-club kind of way. Now they just look at me like I’m an insane person when I do that which brings me reeling back to the reality that I’m just one of the crowd right now.

I don’t look at weather reports anymore. I enjoy rain instead of it stressing me out because I know that will put me closer to The Call. Unless you’ve worked in the airline industry you can’t truly understand what kind of stress that can be, especially if you have plans that you’re looking forward to.

Now, I don’t even bother looking at the weather report. My weather man is Joel when he takes Phoebe out in the morning.

“Honey, what’s it like outside?”

And that’s how I pick my outfit for the day. Every. single. day.

But this post isn’t about how I want to start checking the weather more.

This post is about how bored I feel. And how trapped. And lonely. Ah yes, always lonely. But you don’t want to hear me whine about my problems making friends again. More lameness.

I want adventure. I’m starting to regret taking the longer furlough. I know I needed the break so I could recharge and actually miss my job. My incredible, fabulous, glamorous (ha!) job.

So yeah, I miss it. I’m ready to go back. I’m over this break. Unfortunately I still have to wait another year and a half before this break is done with me.

::sighs::