Tuesday, July 3, 2012
See? I Told Me So.
I know I’m supposed to be grateful. I know that I am lucky for the things I have. I know that happiness is a choice. I know these things the same way I know that every math problem has a solution.
But I suck at math.
I fear that I’m just an unhappy person. I never realized how “glass half empty” I was until Rob was driving me home, with me drunk as a skunk, after a day of birthday celebrating and all I could think of was all my friends who said they would show up and didn’t. Forget the friends who DID make the effort and spent parts of their day with me. The thoughtful gifts took a backseat to the endless texts and emails from friends with “Oh, I really wanted to come, but (fill in the blank with your best excuse)”.
But then, isn’t this what I expected? And by expected, I mean created?
I didn’t need to plan an entire day of events to find out where my relationships with people stood. I knew Whitney would be there. I knew Erin would be there. It didn’t surprise me that Cory showed up and I loved that my brother spent as much of the day as he could with me, especially with a sick little boy at home.
I just got really excited that so many other people said they were going to be there. But I’ve been down this road so many times and I know how it ends. Life happens, things come up and if it’s not a priority, plans get moved around.
It’s not just my birthday. Okay, I’m really going to get whiney and pathetic right now but I’m a little exhausted of trying to hold it all together so... here goes.
A lot less people are reading my blog. Perhaps it’s boring and stagnant. The same shit over and over. Perhaps people want to read either a) progression or b) a complete train wreck. I’ve displayed neither of these recently and maybe people have moved on because of it.
I care because I started writing as a way to express myself and, hopefully, make a difference in the lives of those that find my issues relatable. Now, I think people might just be tired of my shit. I know I am.
My teeth hurt. All the time. My brackets are constantly breaking off my back teeth because of my overbite and my dentists’ lack of experience in orthodontic care. He originally brought in a ortho specialist right out of school. I liked her, but she was really rough on my mouth. My favorite part about my dentist is how gentle and considerate he is. Unfortunately, he isn’t the one that works on my mouth most of the time. Anyway, the girl left and he has brought in a new specialist who I really don’t care for. I’m going in at least once a week for fixes and adjustments and it’s frustrating.
Rob isn’t the guy for me. I’ve been trying to ignore it because of our overwhelming sexual compatibility, but our interests and what we care about in life are very different. He doesn’t know how to be there for me emotionally. Just another guy who can’t figure me out, even though I try to be so honest about my needs and wants. My tears on my birthday were also because I am unhappy with my relationship with him. I’m pretty sure he knows it but I still get to have that conversation with him. It makes me sad, but I feel more lonely with him than I do without him. That cursed affliction that I feel in all my relationships.
So, what would the experts say - I must be unhappy with myself if I don’t allow myself to be happy with anyone else? Okay, I buy that... but I can’t figure out how to fix it. My friends say I am trying too hard. This is probably true... I imagine that it’s like drinking. I know I drink too much. But I don’t want to quit. Now that I don’t smoke pot anymore, I feel like it’s the only way to escape my racing thoughts. It’s not like I’m getting hammered every night. But I don’t like the idea of NOT drinking.
This is kind of how I feel about dating. I know I should probably force myself to not date for a while - to do my own thing and seek happiness on my own. But the idea of not actively pursuing that one thing I want more than anything makes me feel like I’m giving up. Even that old cliche of “you will find love when you stop looking for it” doesn’t really give me much satisfaction.
And this fucking blog. I want to quit writing it. I want to fall off the grid. I want to be missed. But I’m addicted to it. Whenever I write, I feel like I’m detoxing. But the idea that no one cares about what I have to say anymore makes it harder to stick with it.
Yes, I am feeling sorry for myself. Pathetically pitiful.
Family Fit Club starts back up on Saturday. I think this might be helpful. It will be nice to take off the weight I’ve put on over the last few weeks. Plus, having something else to focus on other than how much of a failure my birthday is going to be will undoubtedly be healthy for me.
To my friends who spent Sunday playing bar games with me, sorry for being such a douchebag. I am grateful for you and your friendship. I just suck at this optimism thing lately.
I did nothing on my actual birthday. I stayed inside like a vampire, hiding from the sun and all that was positive. I nursed a horrible hangover and puffy eyes. I tried being happy every time my phone buzzed with another alert that someone had posted Happy Birthday on my Facebook wall. I watched movies that should’ve made me laugh. I slept. And I decided that I would never spend a birthday like that every again.
So, I did one positive thing. I started a five dollar piggy bank. My dad made a wooden box for me - just like the ones we use in Family Fit Club. It must be physically broken to get what’s inside. I decided that for the next eleven months, I will put a minimum of five dollars in it every single day. That means one month before my birthday next year, I will have collected at least $1,675. This way, I can go back to what I know and that’s getting the hell out of dodge and spending my birthday somewhere else. The way I’ve always liked it.
I do have faith that I will figure out one day how easy it is to choose happiness. Such a strange statement, isn’t it? How does this come so naturally to some and not to others? Why is it so much easier to be sad?
Maybe it’s just that birthdays suck. Maybe I’ll give it a few days and everything will be good enough again.
Striving for good enough. Doesn’t get much more half empty than that.
Posted by Tina V at 4:12 PM