Logically Speaking

I wrote something earlier today but it wasn't what I wanted to say.

I need to talk about my year. It's nearly the end of 2015 and time to reflect. It hit me the other day and I posted something on facebook. It was met with kind words of encouragement and I appreciated that. But the truth is, this year was hard.

There were a lot of really great moments. I met some wonderful people but there was a lot of change. And change, while inevitable for growth, is hard.

I started the year in the arms of My Fella. I knew then that it would be a good year and I knew he would be a part of it.

I felt that something was changing for me at work too but I wasn't sure what it was yet. I felt good about where I was, where my team was. I was proud of my store and while stressed, I thoroughly enjoyed the experiences I was having.

I wasn't enjoying the city I was in. I began to like being where My Fella was more. By February we were tossing the idea around of me moving in with him but I felt it was a long time coming.

It wasn't that long. By early Spring I was telling my boss that I might be moving. By early Summer, I was.

I've written about my move before but for some reason it's now becoming very....real. I don't regret my choices but I'm experiencing things I didn't expect to because of them.

I'm lonely. I miss my friends and having them near me. I miss my coworkers and the relationships we had. I miss the ongoing challenges of running a store and helping other people learn and grow. I miss being important, necessary, appreciated.

This summer was the first time I hadn't worked in eight years. I threw barbecues and a 4th of July party. I went to the Farmer's Market and explored this new city. I read books, I wrote, I learned how to be me again.

But now it's almost winter and I know who I am. I am someone being consumed by their feelings.

I am angry and sad and irritated and frustrated. I know that I will be ok again but that's not what I feel now. Logic doesn't fucking matter right now.

I keep thinking about all the things I've gone through. Sometimes just the last week, sometimes the last year, sometimes just the last hour. I can't stop thinking. It's part of this fucking bullshit mental illness, and it makes me mad. I hate this. I don't feel like myself and I so desperately don't want to be anyone else.

I went through a lot this year. I made some big changes in my life. BIG changes. I did things I honestly wasn't sure I'd ever do. Sometimes I can't believe it was me that did them.

I look in the mirror and think, "Who the hell is that?" I wonder where I went or who I will be next. I feel lost sometimes, unsure of what kind of person I am. Am I annoying? Do I come across as fake? Do people think I'm disgusting?

Again, logically I know I'm loved. I know how lucky I am to have friends and family to show me that.  I don't want to wonder what others think of me but I do. Not because I would change necessarily, but because I can't stand the thought of someone not liking me. Logically, that's ridiculous. But, you know, fuck logic right now.

My mind is not the way I wish it was. I feel everything, think about everything so much.

My friend died the same day I started a new job and got a car. My emotions that day went up and down so quickly my stomach was in my throat. I think I'm still reeling. I never really decompressed from that. I didn't think I needed to because I'm "strong". Naively, I thought that because I'd suffered loss before that I would be fine. I'm fucking not fine. He shouldn't have died and left his lovely wife and his friends and....and me. I had only known him a few months but he was one of those people you feel you've always known and I miss seeing him.

Loss is never the same. Each period of grief or mourning needs to be acknowledged and experienced. I believe only then you can learn to live with it. You never get over it. Time doesn't heal it. It just makes it a little easier to live with. And living with it now, is not easy.

It reminds me of other losses I've experienced. I think about my mom all the time, even more this time of year and now she's even more in my thoughts. I think about Chrissy and her son, how he is experiencing yet another holiday without her.

I feel each sad note in every sad song and I'm not even listening for them. I feel every irritated car honk and hurried hand gesture of fellow drivers on the road. I feel tired. I think about my family and other families and anyone I might know that's been through a loss and I feel for them.

It's too much. It's overwhelming. I try to decompress or focus on other things and it helps for a little while until I feel guilty for feeling better. Guilty because I don't really feel like smiling or feeling better and I'm just doing it because enough time has passed and it's expected. Guilty because sometimes I don't feel like fighting against the consumption of my feelings. I feel like letting them win and just crying or screaming.

But I can't. Because I care what others think about me. Even though I know that my friends and family would be right there crying or screaming along with me, my mind won't let me let go. It's easier to just succumb to this crazy mental bullshit but I don't want to do that either.

It makes me feel very confused and that makes me frustrated because unfortunately, I really don't like it when I'm not in control of my own thoughts.

It makes me a little freaked out about what next year might bring. It makes me feel a little crazy. It makes me wonder what could possibly come next which only adds to the crazy.

I spent most of the year this way. It ebbed and flowed.

Looking back, I think I had more ups than downs and that's good. I know it is. Logically.

People Are Strange

People fascinate me.

There are so many different ways to live this life and I'm consistently intrigued by others' choices.

This time of year is so weird. It's stressful and nostalgic and kind of lonely and sad but also hopeful and warm.

I've always sort of not been a fan of this time of year. I remember thinking last year that Christmas was less of a holiday and more of a day off from work. Being out of the store and away from a steady stream of customers helps it feel more Christmas-y for me this year. Which sort of contradicts my earlier statement of finding people fascinating cause mostly this time of year they're just asshats.

Why is that? Yes it's a stressful, kind of lonely and sad time of year but...not for everyone. It's just not kind to put your shitty feelings onto someone else and yet people do it ALL THE TIME because it's just...the way things are.

Learning that life sucks, that people can be mean, that not everyone thinks before they speak or that the world isn't as big as I think it is...not easy lessons to learn. Even in my late 30s, I'm surprised at how people treat one another.

I honestly don't understand why someone would intentionally be a dick to another person. I don't understand racism or bigotry or sexism or a lot of other isms. I understand difference of opinion. I understand different levels of education, demography, history, self defense...but I don't understand cruelty.

Perhaps that's why stories of serial killers or murderers fascinate me. Not on a 'I've got a shrine of Bundy and write letters to bad guys in prison' level of course, but on a 'what the fuck made this guy like this' kind of level.

There's a line from a favorite movie that goes, "Don't lie to me. I can smell a lie like a fart in a car." I feel that way sometimes. Don't lie. Don't be fake and don't bullshit me. I can tell and I will acknowledge your bullshit, take note of it and never forget it.

Those kind of people intrigue me too. Is the 'fake' behavior coming from a place of insecurity? I get that. I tend to be super nice because I'm insecure. My sarcasm and sometimes snark doesn't come out until I know you. It's usually paired with the word 'fuck' because I'm comfortable then.

I once had someone tell me that 'No one could really be that nice.' She told me I wasn't real and that I looked for things wrong in people so that I could comfort them. I remember thinking how hurt I was by her comment. But years later I looked back and wondered if maybe she had a bit of a point. Perhaps my insecurity caused me to grasp at other people's sadness, to try and fix them so I could feel better.

It's a trick, for lack of a better word, to help yourself when you feel shitty. Helping someone else, helps me feel good. When that comment was said to me, I definitely wasn't in a good place. I was trying like hell to stay mentally afloat and I was totally overcompensating by being 'nice' to everyone. I was trying to make myself feel better.

I realized eventually that I could only help myself and be there for others. I can't fix anyone. Sometimes I wish I could but I know I can't. Another one of those lessons.

So I accept you holiday asshats, cranky comments and all. A part of me wishes I could make you feel less stressed, sad or lonely but that's kinda on you. If you wanna talk about it though, I can listen.


Also, don't go killing anyone ok? It's Christmas for fuck's sake.

Christmas Fat

Soooo. Turns out I'm still fat. I mean, numbers can lie a little and clothes can stretch but pictures? Nope. No, they are the truth tellers.

I got all fancied up in pretty clothes yesterday and pictures were taken. Taking them with my girlfriends I smiled and giggled and posed the way I learned is the most flattering and then I saw the pictures and smiling became a bit of a struggle.

My Fella told me I was beautiful. He said it without words as I was struggling into pantyhose before we left, and when I sat next to him in the car and he put his hand on my thigh. He said it in the way he looked at me and held my hand. He said it simply with, "You're so beautiful."  And in the moment, I did feel beautiful. I even knew it a little.

But then...god what is it about seeing yourself in pictures that just destroys you? I felt like I was looking at a parody of myself. It looked like someone had pushed 'enhance' sixty times like that guy from Super Troopers. Ugh.

I know that attempting to diet right now would be foolish. I mean, cookies, cakes, pies, chocolates, big 'ol spreads of food...I'm not going to not eat those things. BUT I think that I'll give that New Year's Resolution thing a try this year.

I gotta try something. I don't want to be the freak anymore and though I know that people that love me would be quick to correct me from that description, I'd have to assure them that's how I felt. At least right now as I remember the fact that somehow I've created cankles. For fuck's sake. Cankles?

And now it's public. I've not been one to shy away from the fact that I weigh more than I should and now that I've described yet again the fact, maybe I'll hold myself more responsible.

I hope so. I hope that feeling of 'it's too late get a crane and fucking give up' goes away. I will get my ankles back goddammit.