Bumpy and Rough
Sure, I'm feeling a little sorry for myself but you'll have to indulge me on that because I do a fair amount of "Well let's just put on a smile and things'll get better!" and that hasn't helped. This week was tough.
I kind of feel like Bird's accident tilted things just enough that the whole balance got shifted into the sad; the melancholy and that maybe it's all part of the plan, the much lauded capital J Journey that we're said to be on for me to ride this out. To let the melancholy be here until something clicks.
Which I think they did this weekend, but I'm just not sure yet what to make of it.
I did have a great weekend last weekend, but the sadness (which is a sort of generalization, it's more of a pain/loss/sadness/hurt amalgamation really) of the Grey's finale and Lost finale stuck with me all week and things kept on happening to make me feel very (how do I put this?) alone. No, that's not quite right, that made me feel (and this is when it's hard to talk about work without talking about work) unappreciated and made me question myself and my seeming need to fix everything for everyone in the entire universe without them even knowing things needed fixed or asking me and holy crap did I feel awful by the end of the week.
But, to my credit, I asked a friend for help. Asked if we could get together this weekend to talk about it. Asked if she'd be a sounding board and listen and maybe hand me a kleenex or two while I cried.
And you may not know this about me, but that's a big deal for me. To have asked for support and help instead of just keeping whatever it is inside and not. . . sharing.
And then there was other stuff this weekend, a trip to Vancouver that was supposed to be fun but took a turn when my travelling companions bailed out at the last minute and the only thought I had going through my head as I headed out the door on my own was "I don't have anybody."
"I don't have anybody to do this kind of thing with. I don't have a single best friend I can call on on short notice to keep me company when I have to drive to Vancouver by myself. I don't have a boyfriend to call on the trip to talk to or to come with. I don't have anybody."
It's a thought that goes through my mind from time to time accompanied by the other hurtful thought that I'm not anybody's "person." My friends are all coupled, and so they all have their person and I'm pretty sure I've talked about this here before and been told that, no, that's not true, not all couples have their romantic partner as their main go to to talk person, but that's how it is in my world. Or at least that's how it feels.
So I went by myself and tried my best to make it ok. Had some good moments listening to a Vinyl Cafe CD that made me laugh and to the John Mayer mixed CD I must have listened to five times and I let myself eat candy and even when there was a one sailing wait when I showed up almost an hour early for the 7 and then when the 9 arrived it didn't unload for half an hour due to a "police incident" I still laughed with the people waiting in their cars and was very positive and upbeat about this all because look at me such a big girl doing things on my own and aren't I mature and, and, and, well it still felt lonely a lot of the time and there was no one to turn to for reassurance when the GPS took me down the weirdest streets ever and I thought for sure I was lost. There wasn't anyone to laugh with about it after. No one to share with.
That's a lot of it. No one to share with.
Other than you. And not that there's anything wrong with sharing with you and it does give me an outlet to do so which I appreciate, but you're not here and you're not able to give me a back rub when I get stressed out about missing the ferry and I can't hear your laugh and you don't kiss me like the couple I sat behind on the ferry ride home. Because of course I sat behind a new, happy couple on a weekend of fighting off melancholy and sadness and aloneness and all.
And then my friend, the one I'd asked to hang out with me? Didn't call. And I know she has a family and something probably came up but it was bad timing because it fueled the fire of whatever it was that's been on me all week.
So a long rambling post to say I'm a little bummed. Well, somewhere between a little and a lot bummed. I'm bummed. I feel like it's just me when you get right down to it and it's a sad thought to accept.
My hope is that once I accept it, there'll be a peace. Or something. Less hurt. Less sadness.
Because it is what it is.
And to leave you with what was most definitely the highlight of my weekend and two hours worth of laughing (and just the smallest bit of crying) and awesomeness, if there's any chance you can get to see the musical The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee do it. Totally do it.
I wish I'd known about it sooner cuz I'd have gone back to see it again.
Anyhow. Here's to a better week.
P.S. The Cinematic Orchestra's album "Ma Fleur" was Sunday's soundtrack. It was the exact mood I was in exactly. Hurt. Haunting. Sad. Maybe a little bit angry underneath.
Cinematic Orchestra - To Build A Home (feat. Patrick Watson)