Sunday, February 19, 2006

Control...

In case you were wondering...yeah, that's me.



When I lived in
New Orleans I hung out in coffee shops. I became a bit eccentric living in the Big Easy but it opened my heart and my mind during the hardest times of my life. Through depression I often closed my eyes to the world trying to sleep my life away. Coffee kept me awake. The intelligent conversations and free internet of the coffee shops assured me of my sanity. I concluded over a cup of coffee what I couldn't after a year of therapy. My depression is me feeling like I don't have control over my life. Simple.

When I was a college freshman I had a boyfriend who was quiet and comfortable being alone. I am sooooo not that! But he was my friend, my confidante and in many ways my emotional crutch. I held him close, too close. But there were times when he was tired of me, unhappy, found me untrustworthy...I never knew. He never told me. He simply backed away and to fill the void between us I began to see (um, sleep) with someone else. I remembered the anger and frustration I felt and the sadness of when he left vividly this week. I built a wall so tall even I couldn't see over it and since have been hesitant to really let someone close enough to see my weaknesses.

In the years since I have become very aggressive and ambitious. I cracked the whip on everyone, particularly myself to be thinner, smarter, more independent. But admittedly I was still insecure. Then ultimately every plan I made either failed or gave me my just deserts and I was forced to learn a valuable lesson. The best way to be in control of yourself is to understand that you can't control everything. Hahaha easier said than done, I know. I don't desire to have of control others just myself my happiness and my menstrual cycles. (If you take a whole bunch birth control pills at once it can stop your flow for a day or two, just passing on the news). I since have vowed to never let life get the best of me and should I ever find someone like my ex ... not to hold too tight but not to push him away.

Ever since the New Year I have slowly felt my mind slipping. Okay, it was more abrupt than that. I have smack lost my marbles in the last month! Straight lost them. I heard the last of them hit the ground last week. Being unable to pay my bills for a while, my accident has left me without a car and behind in the increasing work load of this Ph.D program (that sometimes I question if I am able to do) pushing me about over the edge. Let's not forget my family and Boys (now that I am older I guess by definition they are men. What does it take to be a man these days? Just Pubic hairs?) I just haven't been handling things well. I started to reeeally hate the pretty girl I saw in the mirror. And then I remembered, I can't control everything or anyone.

So here I am in a coffee shop much like the one on Magazine Street I used to visit in New Orleans, reassuring myself of my sanity. Over a mocha latte I reminded myself that I shouldn't hold on too tight, not to him nor on to me. As I take a deep breath and smell the aroma my rather tasty cup of coffee I can hear him jokingly say "Chill out..." And for the first time in months I do.

I could say that I will go with the flow, but I don't really trust any flow other than the one that comes every 28 days... but sometimes, when you reaaaaallly need it to be on time... but that's life, man! which is why I won't throw away my whip or the complementary packs of birth control pills from the doctor. You just never know and I like to be in control of the situation.

Control...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Valentine's Day Massacre


February 14th 2006 was the worst day of my life, save February 28th of last year or whenever that Madea movie came out. I planned to just stay in bed and let the whole day blow over. I didn't get out of bed until 11am. But NOOOOO I had to be a trooper. I donned my red Ann Taylor sweater top with the bow at the collar and decided I had a lot of love to give that day. After all it is just a day, 24 hours right? Wasn't like I didn't make any plans. I had plans!

I think what hurts this year is that I am finally at the point in my life where I am ready to receive love and mature enough to give it. Thoughtfully. Valentine's Day only highlighted how much I had never been loved. I am using "never" very lightly. How much I would really like flowers and how many lies I received instead. Chocolate? I don't think I got that since the 8th grade and I started dating his best-friend a month later! (It was middle school what do you want me to say?) It is not just a day folks! It's a war on my sanity, my heart. I have been mobilizing the mental troops all week. Let's just say...I lost a lot of men out there.

I start off by going to the grocery store to buy a pack of sugar free Red Bull only to be engulfed by this...helium mass of shiny-ness...and men crowded around the table of bears and things, forming a barricade between me and my energy source that was needed to get through what looked like the beginning of a hard day. I grabbed my In Touch Weekly, my drink and got the hell out of there...alive. I made sure to pay a visit to my best-friend's son. He's 1 year old and he gives great hugs and I needed it. Certain of my strategic moves to avoid the mushiness, I come home to see a box of mail-sent flowers at the door and for a brief moment with all that I was...all that I could be...I wished it were for me. They were for my sister, of course. Who in my life would go through the trouble of doing that? I tried my very best to be happy for her but it hurt.

I hung out with the girls and watched the romantic comedy that makes your romance look like a business acquaintance. You've seen it, trust me if you've seen one... My romantic plans fell through surprisingly. Surprisingly being the operative word. Just as I was hoping to come home and lick my wounds, my sister calls excited her long distance boyfriend---yes the same one that sent flowers in the mail----just showed up at the airport. I was shell shocked and I couldn't get to my room without making a scene. I was hit. I am an awful person and now I hate myself. My night ended with a 3 hour phone call that consisted of the phases "what is going on” “you are lying to me” and “seeing someone else”. It was gruesome. Jose Cuervo is my witness he was the only one I was with last night, but come to think of it he was probably keeping a lot of others company this valentine’s day.

So hung over, I can see the sun and it hurts my eyes. But it is a new day. I have lived though the roses’ thorns and the helium gas and the huge massive stuffed teddies that I didn’t get. I didn’t die. The lingerie I bought didn’t self- destruct. But hey they aren’t giving out purple hearts for wounded feelings, are they? I think I’ll wear black in remembrance of this bloody day for the rest of the week. Which means I need to do laundry…I have no clean black shirts. Hey! A reason to get out of bed.
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