For some, it may be finally admitting they have an addiction of some kind; for others, it may be facing their own commitment issues after a series of failed relationships. Then for some, like me, it's facing the truth about who you are.
On my quest for happiness, love, art, freedom, and a place I can call home, I've stumbled over some truths that I can no longer push to the side. They now sit square and center in my field of vision that I practically trip over them when I walk.
Like I always say, in life I can be bitchin', but in my career I seek shelter behind a barricade during this political, economical, and social turmoil. Unfortunately, in spite of the national and universal strife, I hide behind that barricade fighting an internal war as well.
My father, my mother, even most of my friends would say my anxiety stems from the fact that I'm unemployed. They say once I find a job, I'll be happy.
What I'm coming to terms with and what I had to move thousands of miles to realize is that just finding a job won't make me happy.
I had jobs back in Michigan but they were minimum-wage jobs. Not to sound ungrateful but I didn't like them because I wasn't using the degree I spent thousands of dollars on. If you want to talk about resentment, I was facing a $50,000 resentment every time I drove to the mall or grocery store to make measly wages for jobs I broke my back doing (realistically I do in fact suffer from feet, ankle, and back problems from years of standing for 8-10 hours at a time).
Okay. Create your own job! Find your passion! Unleash what you've always dreamed of.
So I start acting and singing, and continue painting and writing but I'm still not happy. There is a cloud of fear that follows me. It becomes so thick at times, I'm unable to write or paint due to the lack in vision.
Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the state, maybe I should change location and that will make all the difference.
So I do and while I love California, I'm still unsettled.
Maybe I need to make more friends. I do and I'm now surrounded by amazing, strong, independent women. The only thing is, I still feel completely isolated with no one to talk to.
I'm at the kitchen sink. I turn the water on and as the water falls, so do the tears. I'm start to cry from an emotional pain I can't make any sense of. I--the girl who's witty, smart, and well-read--can't comprehend what I'm feeling right now. All I know is that I'm sad and I don't know why. I'm scared but I don't know what of. I'm miserable and if I didn't have people who depended on me--who loved me--I'd probably do something like--
Oh. My. God...
No. It's situational. I'm unemployed in a new area and dealing with a heartbreak. I'm sad because of this.
No. Even better. It's my mother. I'm dealing with all my familial issues and my long strive in trying to be the perfect daughter, sister, cousin, friend, etc...
No. It stems from a traumatic event. Like that time I was--
No, I've moved on from that. I've let go and forgiven. A therapist would say I'm resilient and have adjusted well. It doesn't eat at me anymore and I've grown quite well from it.
So maybe, it really is biological. Maybe this functional handicap isn't the result of anything I've done or that has been done to me. Maybe I have to come to terms that there is a deeper psychological problem at hand. Maybe I really am mildly depre--
Me? But there are so many things that give me great joy! I think of my niece's smile, laughter with friends, drinking coffee with my mom and brother. I think of the fun I've had every night I've gone out with the girls--the dick jokes, the dishing of girl problems, the dancing til I rip my jeans. I think of the laughter and joy I bring to others. I think of all those people over the years telling me how funny, wild, and fun I am.
I think about these past couple years and my work in becoming less negative and more positive. I think of friends coming to me for advice and support and I love them no matter what they tell me. I really do love them so much. I hate to see them in pain. If only they could see what I see. I tell them they're beautiful, that they're smarter and stronger than they realize, and that they'll have my support no matter what they choose. If it's about men then I tell them one of my shitty stories, we have a good laugh, and we all feel better in knowing we're not alone.
So how can someone like me, who knows the ins and outs of her pysche, feel this way? I know what it means when I'm wondering if a guy misses me (I'm still hooked on his validation). I know what I'm doing when I try to play the victim (I'm looking for a way out). I know what I'm trying to uncover when I open old wounds (I'm relishing in the old pains of the past and allowing my imagination to take over me instead of move forward).
I could get into this more but you catch my drift. On the surface, I'm a happy, sane, fun, and adventurous gal. I come home from a day of joy and laughter, Make some dinner, put on a good movie, snuggle the pets, get ready for bed, then cry myself to sleep because I can't stand myself or this feeling.
I want to disappear. Since I'm not a magician, I fantasize about leaving for Europe or going on another road trip. I'll get away,eat some great food, pray about the great food, and maybe fall in love (or at least have some good make-out sessions) and that will cure everything.
But then my journey will be over and I'll be right back where I am today and I'll have to come to terms with the fact that there is nothing I, or anyone else, can do to make this cloud go away.
I pray over and over to God. What should I do? What do you want me to do? I'll do anything, please! Take this pain away from me. Comfort me. PLEASE!
For a moment I'm second-guessing my relationship with God, like maybe he's given up on me or worse--he doesn't exist. Then I apologize. Maybe I just have to do this on my own.
So now I sit and contemplate the possibilities, the options, and worry over the judgement I'll receive from others. But I'm tired of feeling this way and I'm sure my loved ones are sick of the fatalistic phone calls at 2a.m..
I worry I'll lose myself if I so much as think about doing what I may have to do but then I think, I've already lost myself, maybe this would help me find what I'm looking for.
This blog was meant to be funny but instead I seem to be writing about heavier and heavier topics. On a good note, my dreams of being a stand-up comedienne may not be so far off since it seems they're all just as depressed as I am.
I don't know if I should share this information, or that maybe if I do I'll somehow be set free. Regardless, I think others could benefit. I started this blog to share my crazy journey with the utmost honesty and truth (a lot of what we're missing in this world). My journey has lead me here and while I could write about my battle of my bulge (or the lack in men's bulges), I decided to write about what is really going on.
I hope you don't think I'm crazy. I hope I don't lose any friendships from sharing these things. And I hope that if anyone else out there feels this way that they'll find comfort, peace, and finally come to terms with themselves and take the necessary steps towards emotional health. The people in your life may try to write it off and pretend it doesn't exist but you know it does and I know it does. Don't let that discourage you because I love you and I don't want to see you hurt anymore.
It's okay. With battle scars and all-- we'll get through this together.
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