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The zen-ness continues.  I read this particularly touching story on CNN this morning.  And I just don’t know how I feel about it.  I believe that there are certain memories we block out because we can’t bear them.  I went through a time when I consciously had to stop myself from remembering parts of my relationship with Voldemort because they were too painful.  I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a memory as powerful as the one suppressed by Chris Keith.

I’ve said for years that the secret (if you want to call it that) to happiness is being grateful.  There’s a reason your mom tells you to “count your blessings” as a kid.  There’s a reason that watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey or Jersey Shore makes us feel better about ourselves (and hope that we never live in New Jersey!).  So I try to remind myself of the overwhelming, overflowing goodness that is in my life regularly–otherwise, I get wound up small and tight/and I don’t know who I am. And that’s no good to anyone, let alone me.

I can count up the bad, sure.  I was an awkward kid, with a brain much bigger than her confidence.  I had a particularly nasty note written to me by my “friends” in the 9th grade that resulted in my first thoughts of suicide.  I was finally diagnosed with depression on October 26, 2009, after enduring so many bad days that I had to admit to myself that life isn’t supposed to be this hard.  Even my amazing parents dismissed my depression, and told me that “you are stronger than this.”  I finally sought help because my father’s side of the family has a history of depression and suicide–he lost his brother when I was a small child, and his sister’s son shot himself (unsuccessfully at first, then successfully a year later) when I was in college.

I guess my point is that everyone is struggling with something.  We have our predispositions – mine is that I take failure (and criticism) very personally.  Some of us have horrible things that have happened to us that no one knows about.  According to Tori Amos-founded RAINN one in six women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime – 17.6%.  That’s a big number, but we also know that it’s bigger because that’s based on reported assaults.  How many go unreported? What are the issues created when someone we love leaves us?  When we watch someone we love die of cancer, or come dangerously close?  What are the parts of us we instinctively shut down because the hurt is just too much?

I am steel/I don’t feel/anything at all… and it’s been too many years/I’ve hurt too many times/to give up everything

It’s survival mode.  We all do it.  Whether it’s our Excuses, or Precious Illusions.  We find our ways to push through.  We go to God, tequila, boys gone through like water.  We have our defenses and coping mechanisms and all the things you tell yourself. And where does it lead?  I think we all find some peace in the struggle to find peace/comfort on the way to comfort even if we’re fumbling towards it.

Because we all have the baggage, the pain, the things that we can’t erase, and sometimes, can’t bear, all we can do is look forward.  We get the chance to start over, mistakes and all, everyday.  It’s a choice.  I’ve crossed the last line/from where I can’t return/where every step I took in faith betrayed me/and led me from my home… It doesn’t mean anything at all/The life I’ve left behind me/is a cold room.

The ups and downs are so strange, so unpredictable.  The worries seem so silly once resolved, like they were nothing to be concerned with.  And I manage to find a magic wand and make things right, over and over, and the truth is, it isn’t magic.  It’s a little luck and a lot of brains.  My brilliance is my saving grace, you know.  Maybe people say I’m crazy, but at least they can’t deny that I’m pretty freaking smart.  And for some reason, that comforts me.

I tasted tasted love so sweet and all of it was lost on me/bought and sold like property/with sugar on my tongue

I wonder if any of my exes ever look back and wish they had tried harder.  Wished they hadn’t given up.  Though it’s probably been over two years since Voldemort called me, I have his ringtone set.  And this song, the one I’m interlacing in this post, this is the song that redeems his.  I’m not a big fan of giving songs away–I’m a little too greedy for that mostly.  But his song, it was the one that finally let me see the fear that caused that relationship to ultimately fall apart.  That said that maybe it’s better to leave before everything crumbles, before there’s nothing good left, before we hate each other.  I’d sooner surrender/than watch the last wall collapse/I’d sooner surrender/and our love would count for everything…. I wake reminded love/of how I just gave up and how you moved on…

But I’m in this weird, zen place right now, where I reflect on this and smile.  I have no idea how things make so much sense right now, how I suddenly feel content because I’ve managed to work through some of the bigger work stresses, I feel confident in my ability to do the job well.  I don’t know.  I just feel good today.  Good and comfortable, assured and confident. Somehow I know that the one situation that weighs on me is going to be fine.  I have no idea how, and no idea how it will change or morph or evolve, but I do know that it is not going to end.

I’m looking today at the things I can change, trying to find the roots of this deep unhappiness.  After all, when you can’t change your situation, perspective, or emotions, then the next step is too look at your actions.  At least, that’s what my therapist used to say.  SPEAR – Situation, Perspective, Emotions, Actions, Results.  It’s circular – so now the step is to stop acting on my unhappiness and getting the same result (unhappiness).

But it seems like there are bigger things weighing on me than just some general malaise.  I had lunch with my BFF from college yesterday, and I expressed my frustration with my inability to have a relationship that lasts longer than a month.  Or at least how that’s been the case in the past six months.  But besides some unresolved business with a certain man in my life, it appears that I am just too busy/stressed/set in my ways to establish myself with someone new.  And I mean this as follows:  I can have a great couple of weeks with a new guy.  Everything seems perfect.  And then, I’ll have a work crisis or be spreading myself too thin or realize I’ve gained ten pounds.  And I will be at less than my best.  At a couple of weeks in, no matter what the potential, no man feels like it’s worth it to put up with that.  (Even though I seem to do it for them!)  So it seems to me that my only hope (at this point in my life) is to maintain the friendships I’ve had for years, reconnect with the people who know me best, and be grateful for the fact that they know me well enough to be willing to be supportive.

Even Voldemort, and that is surprising.  It’s funny how he’s still cautious with me, but then does random things like actually answer (and talk to me for 15+ minutes) when I (very rarely) drunk dial him.  There’s a part of me that thinks a friendship with him at this point would be very healthy for me because I’m truly over thinking we’ll ever be together again.  There’s a certain freedom in a friendship like that – with someone who knows me so well and somehow still end up on speaking terms after going though insanity or a breakup, well, I suppose that means that you can survive anything.

But maybe weighing on me more:  is it possible to be in love with someone but not want a relationship?  It’s confusing.  I had this great conversation at a party last night where the woman I was talking to suggested that it is possible to have a life partner who is not your spouse.  A deep friendship that outlasts all the other relationships in your life.  That maybe this person isn’t intended to be your husband.  But I don’t know how you have a friendship like that that doesn’t interfere in any other romantic relationship.   Isn’t that just setting yourself up for failure in any other relationship?  I don’t know how to have a male best friend and not be in love with him.  And it’s getting harder to fight the incredible urge I have to simply run away, though the last time I did that, he found a way to bring me back.  I am completely at a loss as to what I want, or what I don’t.

figures that my courage would choose to sell out now/I’ve been looking for a savior in these dirty streets/Looking for a savior underneath these dirty sheets….

We are always our own worst critics.  Is that why criticisms from others sting?  Because we feel like we’re already beating ourselves up enough?  Lately, and by lately, I mean for the last month or so, I’ve been wound up so tight that I’m teetering on the edge of collapse.  Like my favorite metaphor, I’m at that point of critical mass where just one more burden on my shoulders will send me into a black hole.  Is this why people go on vacation?  Wait, what’s a vacation again?

I used to play The Sims, and I’m not sure anyone who hasn’t will get this next point.  But I’ll try to explain.  In The Sims, you control the lives of your little simulated people, who have basic needs that control their successes, and ultimately, their happiness.  If they don’t get enough sleep, they will fall asleep in the middle of some other activity.  If they don’t bathe, a green cloud of stink will follow them around.  To me, the need that always seemed most interesting was their “social” meter.  If the meter got too low, all of their social interactions would go poorly: they’d get into fights, end up in tears, or even start talking to themselves like crazies.  So, the point is, I think this happens to me sometimes.  I think I have a rather high social meter, and I’ve been so busy that I don’t see people other than those I work with, so that means my social interactions don’t go as well as I’d like.  I drink more than I mean to when I’m out.  I overshare.  I end up feeling alone.

When you gonna make up your mind/when you gonna love you as much as I do?

So yeah, um, I think what this all means is that it’s about time to make a trip home to Mom & Dad.  Reconnect with my priorities and the people who know me best.