It's been a good minute since I've written. There's a reason[s].
What started out as a bad day a month ago turned into a bad week[s]. Let's see, first there was the public meltdown at work, then an attempted break-up with Ryan. Then there was the wall of sadness which also came along with writer's block, which is a serious ailment in the writing world comparable only to contracting the AIDS virus.. In an effort to start feeling better and get past the block, I decided to start counseling two weeks ago. The counseling session turned out to be a wasted hour of my life I'll never be able to recover.
I considered the time wasted time because the counselor told me everything I already knew. As she talked I couldn't help but assume she believed I was an idiot because she tried to convince me to apply for grant money from the organization she works with. This "grant money" set aside was awarded to those who were forced to relocate due to tragic situations in their lives. This sounds like a great program for people who truly need financial help with their moving costs, but I'm not one of those people.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! " I asked, then informed her, "I'm already on that because I'm writing a memoir so I don't need your money. I just need someone to listen and help me try to understand why I feel like shit. You know, someone to help me find some direction because obviously I'm lost."
Her response; "Wow. You write?"
I wanted to put my mouth around the barrel of a gun and pull the trigger at that point. Since there wasn't a gun in sight, I put her voice on mute and watched her lips move. If she wasn't going to listen to me I wanted to return the favor. It was like watching the crappiest silent movie. Nothing was truly accomplished and as I walked out of her office, I felt even more disappointed and defeated. I decided to stop fighting with my depression and surrendered to any and all of the above feelings, no matter how amazing or negative they were.
With that choice, I found the start of a familiar walk down a hopeless, shocking, self-loathing path I'd already been down. This path AKA Memory Lane included the all too familiar intersection at Night Terrors on Elm Street.
Walking down Memory Lane, I came across a new road I wasn't familiar with; Frustration. This feeling of frustration came from the anger within myself I've harbored. Anger rooted in confusion as to why I suddenly felt miserable when I came back from Oklahoma in May 2010, when this depression began . I mean, I can deal with being depressed as long as I understand why I feel that way. But feeling like someone suddenly died when someone[s] died 365 days ago? That made no sense to me. "Why am I still so upset?" I asked myself, "And why now?! What the hell is wrong with me?!" There wasn't an answer in sight to my un-rhetorical questions, so after trying out Frustration Road, I made a U-turn and headed back down Memory Lane.
So that's why I haven't written lately. I've been too busy running down Memory Lane hoping to find a rest stop, a new road to travel down, or an end to the road itself. Any end; either the beginning of a new path or a DEAD end.
On Monday I stood waiting at a crosswalk light after work. I watched the traffic go by; the SUVs and 2010 model cars zooming past me without remorse. Then it began to sprinkle.The drizzle turned into rain pouring from the sky as the crosswalk light signaled my turn to cross. I stepped out onto the street not paying attention until I heard honking at me. I and smiled and waved at the driver who nearly hit me with his car. He smiled back at me and I read his lips, "I'm sorry." I gushed back to him, "It's okay." Secretly, in that moment, I wished the car hydroplaned and hit me so I could take a break from the world, or at least from work for a week, and not be blamed or held accountable for my absence[s].
Once I reached the other side, I looked up at the sky to watch the water fall from the puffy grey watercolor clouds. The pouring rain covered my glasses' lenses so I took them off. I continued to stare up at the sky and let the waterfall wash over my bare, eyes open. I realized I was smiling slightly still and now I was entirely drenched in rain. Walking home in the rain from a long day at work was another one of those ridiculous situations I find myself in almost daily. Where most people would consider this a bad day, I found comfort in the familiarity of an unfortunate circumstance outside of my control. While most people would choose to find an alternate route or hide under shelter to wait the storm out, I faced it all the way home.
I trudged through the rain puddles, playfully kicking at the pools of water with my feet. I felt the coolness of the water between my toes, over my head and on my back through my soaked polo shirt. The unfortunate-ness of the inclement weather on my walk home was a surprise detour on my journey down Memory Lane. I stopped running so I could experience the rain and mild temperatures, which were welcomed changes from the summer hear and humidity.
The experience humbled me and veered me off Memory Lane. I was reminded of where I am NOW and who I am TODAY. Drenched in THE PRESENT, I felt immersed in strength and the chance to still be alive, to be able to laugh at the typical situation of being forced to walk home in the rain. This was a far cry from any stress I felt in the past.
When I got home and walked up the stairs, dripping water from my hair, my brother asked, "Why didn't you just call me for a ride home?"
"I think I needed to walk in the rain." I told him.
There's a reason[s]
TUESDAY JUNE 29, 2010
At least my writer's block has been cured, and that's a start.
After walking home in the rain the other day, I thought that I was going to go to sleep that night and wake up to a clear sky and a clear head. I was half right, it wasn't raining anymore. But as I pulled back the curtains on my bedroom window after I woke up, I noticed rain clouds still hanging around, though they were scattered and allowed patches of the blue sky backdrop to show through.
After my morning shower, I spent some time with Adam, then headed into work. I noticed the clouds beginning to clear out even more throughout the day, but I couldn't completely shake the somber feelings I've had for the past month. "Is everything okay?" my co-worker Amanda asked me. Her question caught me off guard, as I was stood in front of the bar, staring out of the window. I noticed my transparent reflection in the thick glass. She had reason to ask me questions. My face's reflection communicated the standard, "someone-just-died", look. Even I wanted to ask the ghostly image in front me if everything was okay.
I've mastered the, "Yeah, I'm just tired, its been a long week", response. It's part the of the choice I've made to cope and learn how to adapt to the uncontrollable climate changes in my life. Before this year, I always ran from my feelings and my problems, sometimes relocating away from them entirely. In serious circumstances, like in 2009, this was necessary. My recent depression is far from serious and doesn't qualify for such a dramatic response this time. I would compare this feeling to hearing Linkin Park over and over and over on the radio; repetitive, uninspiring and slightly annoying. The only difference is that on the radio, you can turn the tuner dial and take your chances on finding another station that doesn't play crappy music.
We don't have that luxury with our lives. We can't simply turn from one life we're living to a completely different one in seconds. Even the action of scanning radio stations constantly gets repetitive. We make do with our trial version of time on this planet AKA our life, and make the best...or worst of it, until the trial period is over.
Though I'm fully aware of the impermanence of life and the events we experience while alive, I'd still give anything to stop feeling the same dread I wake up and go to bed with every night. Well almost anything, I wouldn't give my life for peace of mind because how would I get to experience peace of mind if I didn't have a life?
What's even more disheartening is that lately, music hasn't appealed to me. This is how I know I'm still hanging around the wall of sadness. I LOVE music. So for me to get into the car, scanning radio stations, not hearing a single song that remotely interests me, that's a red flag that something isn't right within my life. Because no matter what, music has always been there to help me get through the best...and worst of it. Suddenly, my one and only can't even save me or soothe me during the duration of this trip.
So without running from it, but not talking about it, and not turning to music, my options to get through whatever negative feelings I've had recently are all exhausted. I don't know what to do at this point except to weather it out.
"Maybe it will rain today, maybe it won't?"
At least my writer's block has been cured, and that's a start.
After walking home in the rain the other day, I thought that I was going to go to sleep that night and wake up to a clear sky and a clear head. I was half right, it wasn't raining anymore. But as I pulled back the curtains on my bedroom window after I woke up, I noticed rain clouds still hanging around, though they were scattered and allowed patches of the blue sky backdrop to show through.
"Maybe it will rain today, maybe it won't?" I said to myself as I turned on the shower.
After my morning shower, I spent some time with Adam, then headed into work. I noticed the clouds beginning to clear out even more throughout the day, but I couldn't completely shake the somber feelings I've had for the past month. "Is everything okay?" my co-worker Amanda asked me. Her question caught me off guard, as I was stood in front of the bar, staring out of the window. I noticed my transparent reflection in the thick glass. She had reason to ask me questions. My face's reflection communicated the standard, "someone-just-died", look. Even I wanted to ask the ghostly image in front me if everything was okay.
"Yeah, I'm just tired", I told her, "its been a long week." I reassured her.
I've mastered the, "Yeah, I'm just tired, its been a long week", response. It's part the of the choice I've made to cope and learn how to adapt to the uncontrollable climate changes in my life. Before this year, I always ran from my feelings and my problems, sometimes relocating away from them entirely. In serious circumstances, like in 2009, this was necessary. My recent depression is far from serious and doesn't qualify for such a dramatic response this time. I would compare this feeling to hearing Linkin Park over and over and over on the radio; repetitive, uninspiring and slightly annoying. The only difference is that on the radio, you can turn the tuner dial and take your chances on finding another station that doesn't play crappy music.
We don't have that luxury with our lives. We can't simply turn from one life we're living to a completely different one in seconds. Even the action of scanning radio stations constantly gets repetitive. We make do with our trial version of time on this planet AKA our life, and make the best...or worst of it, until the trial period is over.
Though I'm fully aware of the impermanence of life and the events we experience while alive, I'd still give anything to stop feeling the same dread I wake up and go to bed with every night. Well almost anything, I wouldn't give my life for peace of mind because how would I get to experience peace of mind if I didn't have a life?
What's even more disheartening is that lately, music hasn't appealed to me. This is how I know I'm still hanging around the wall of sadness. I LOVE music. So for me to get into the car, scanning radio stations, not hearing a single song that remotely interests me, that's a red flag that something isn't right within my life. Because no matter what, music has always been there to help me get through the best...and worst of it. Suddenly, my one and only can't even save me or soothe me during the duration of this trip.
So without running from it, but not talking about it, and not turning to music, my options to get through whatever negative feelings I've had recently are all exhausted. I don't know what to do at this point except to weather it out.
"Maybe it will rain today, maybe it won't?"
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