Wednesday, April 13, 2016

What happens when you get weaned? You stop sucking.

I'm really frustrated.

I'm mad at myself, and mad at the patterns of behavior that I perpetuate, and that I let others perpetuate against me.

I'm getting sick of my own shit.

I'm trying hard to unlearn and undo bad patterns. I've progressed a lot, and I know that and am proud of myself for accomplishing some intense self-learning over the past few years. But lately I have felt so stuck, while simultaneously feeling like everything is spinning out of control around me.

And it's crazy, because I have these days of intense positivity and feeling like I am moving forward and progressing with my life, inch by hard-earned inch. And then, I get bad news. Or someone says something negative; or something catches me off-guard and I am just devastated. My anxiety flare-ups have increased in their rapidity and intensity. My emotional ups-and-downs have been increasingly more dramatic; the highest highs quickly followed with the lowest lows. It's starting to freak me out a little bit.

What's really strange, though, is that my support network is actually very stable, for once in my life. I have a huge group of cheerleaders behind me. Yes, I still have naysayers and people I feel like I am competing against, but I have some incredible people in my corner, and it seems like more are on the horizon. And it's daunting. I don't wanna fuck it all up; I don't want to disappoint. I get very human ostrich when things get tough, and generally go into "panic and hide away" mode, which is counterproductive. I'm becoming more upfront about my feelings and wants and needs in life, both in my romantic relationboat, and just my general daily activities.

It me.

But it's hard to unlearn things. It's rough to not feel like every man is just using me until he gets bored, which has been my experience. I embody an archetype that men find attractive: the curvy redhead. I get it. But I am so. much. more. than. that. And most men, when they learn that, decide that I'm too much. I can be a lot to handle, I get that. I refuse to tone myself down ever again. Because that's what I've learned how to do: change myself for a relationship. I won't do it.

I get consumptive. I am consumed. I focus so hard on that aspect of my life and need it for validation, and I hate that. It's not fair to me or to them. But I recognize these bad habits, and I'm working on them. I'm getting better at pulling myself out of negative thought cycles, and recognizing when they happen; but they have been happening a lot. My "I am so happy I could pass out" moments are turned into "I could murder everyone" moments in seconds.

I wrote a poem in high school. I called myself, "A walking box of paradoxes, / The biggest oxymoron that you could ever meet." I still think that's true. I'm simultaneously ecstatic and very uncertain. I know exactly what I want and also have no fucking clue. I'm super supported and loved and sometimes I feel very much alone. It's really hard to be someone who feels everything so deeply, but is also incredibly logical and intuitive. I recognize exactly why I am reacting to something how I am, but that doesn't stop the emotional outburst from happening, or the fact that twenty minutes later I am completely calm and rational. Or, three hours after that, I am an emotional wreck about the same thing again.

Maybe I'm just really fucked up.

I've been through so much shit in my 28 years. I am super proud for being a survivor of things that should have wrecked me and left me without hope or feeling. But instead, I am a super-feeler. It would be nice to find a middle ground, but since when have I ever lasted there? I am a woman of extremes and I always have been. I'm not trying to hide it or to be anything other than what I am. What I am trying to do is be the best version of myself possible, and it takes a lot of work.

Lately it has taken a lot of thinking and a lot of crying and tough emotional moments. I'm in the middle of my Saturn Return (Google it), and it's just turned so much upside-down. I am trying so hard to keep pushing forward. Some days I am totally energized by the challenges ahead; most days I am exhausted.

There's also been a lot of emotional upheaval in my friends' lives lately, and that hasn't been fun to deal with, either. But I love them and I of course will always be there for them, no matter what, just like they are there for me. There's just so. much. going on, and I'm struggling to prioritize and handle it all. Again, head in sand.

I need to confront things head-on, and be honest about what I expect and desire and want to invite into my life on a permanent basis. Because right now, I'm letting too much slide.

I have a new tattoo idea. Well, it's not new; I've been kicking it around in my head for a while. I actually wrote it on my arm in Sharpie over a year ago. I loved it.

In high school, I was a music nerd. (I still am.) I was in the high school chorus, the women's choir (until junior year), the select choir (sophomore year on), every music class from general freshman music up to Music Theory I (where I learned to play everything from harp to handbells), the Drama Club (which didn't last long, sadly), Voice Class, five musicals in three years, and I did a music internship my senior year, wherein I helped teach a freshman music class. Not to mention going to NYSSMA (multiple times, as both a soloist and part of a choir), All-County, and participating in various musical endeavors around my town. We had the best music teacher, Mr. K. No, seriously; he won the first-ever GRAMMY In The Schools Music Educator Award. He's amazing. He taught me everything and I love him forever. (The title of this post is also something he used to say to us, and is incredibly accurate.)

Above the whiteboard in the big music room (where I obviously spent a LOT of time), there was a giant printed out sign, obviously made in banner mode of Microsoft Office and printed out at school, before being laminated and taped to the top of the board. Whenever Mr. K said we weren't doing well, he told us we had to do better, because why? We have...


And it always worked. He held us to high standards, and as such, we were fucking amazing. Our music program was incredible, obviously. And I've forgotten about the need for STANDARDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! over the years, to my own detriment. So that's what I want. Just the word, "Standards," in a nice script, on my left forearm. Then, when I'm feeling down, or a situation isn't right, I can look down at my arm and say, "Yes. Standards. I have these, and they are high." And I use that as a guideline/basis for how I react and how I let people treat me.

I think it's a good idea. Again, maybe I am fucked up. But, I am who I am, and only I can change myself. Nobody gets to tell me what to do, or put me in a corner, or make me bleed my own blood.

1 comment:

  1. Love the "Standards!" as a compass idea. Also: complicated self truths don't have to fall under the "fucked up" umbrella unless you like the "fucked up" label. They are a poet's markings: branded so they burn and scar but woven and crafted to be beautiful too.