Musing

It seems like I should write something of substance. I actually think about writing on my blog every day, though obviously I don't do it. I remember my friend Nathan telling me that he gets up early every morning and sets aside time to write... but then, he's a writer, and a damn good one. I write for my own pleasure, for release, and because I think it helps to put things out there... I saw my doctor this week and she asked me about feeling depressed. I said that it's not a secret; I even wrote about it on my blog. To which she asked if that was a cry for help... Hmm, hadn't thought of it that way before...

Yes and no. Yes of course in a way it's a cry, not for help because I don't know that anyone else can really help. I believe that I am responsible for my emotions and my health. I am responsible for my own happiness. Even if that means that my therapist is right and that it could just be brain chemical imbalance. Still then, I am the one responsible for taking steps to feeling better. But no, it's not a cry for help. It's moreso aligned with my philosophy about hiding/showing emotions.

It goes like this: 1) why should I fake that I'm happy just for someone else's sake? Just so others don't feel uncomfortable by my emotions? Why should I not be my true, authentic self? And give others permission to be there true selves by my example? My friend Meeshy and I were just agreeing on this point yesterday. I admit: I take myself too seriously. Or at least seriously. I take life seriously. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Yes, I know I need to lighten up a little. I'm working on it. But I've always just been a serious person and I don't like that I feel there's something wrong with that. Okay so I'm not spunky, I'm not outgoing most of the time, I wouldn't characterize myself as fiesty. That's okay with me because I have other outstanding qualities that I value more than being silly and goofy and fun-loving. I have the ability to feel very deeply, to love very deeply, to forgive, to give when I don't get enough back... I think it stems from the same place.

Today I went to a unitarian universalists fellowship meeting and they had a discussion around the question "how should I live my life?" Not how should you live your life. How should I live it. Immediately I was turned off by the word "should," which implies expectations. What is better? "How could I live my life?" That invites an introspection about what is possible. "How would I live my life?" Okay, so how should I live my life? I'm grappling with this question and assume it is something that I will continue to answer and revise throughout life. But sitting there listening to others share (who are all a good twice my age), I thought about love and forgiveness and gratitude. Forgiveness, that is a way to not taking things so seriously I think. And love -- sometimes I envision myself as a fountain pouring out love. That's not always how I'm living. Maybe that's just how I want to be. But I see myself at times having had this tremendous capacity to flow out love. I don't do enough of that lately. I've been retreated into myself, trying to mend the breaks in my heart, trying to build up the reservoir. Because at times I suddenly find myself a little too dry, and realize that I've poured out love that hasn't been replenished quick enough... I keep thinking maybe it's not like that. Maybe it's that the more love flows out, the more flows in. I wish it felt like that. But it doesn't to me. Yet I still think that's the closest image to how I think I should live my life as I've gotten.

But where does it come from? I'm reminded of my very religious friend Katie telling me about going to the bus station to share the word of God and to just "love on people." And I think I know what she means. I think I've felt this urging within myself at times. But where does it come from in me?

So back to my other reason for sharing my feelings: 2) by my sharing, as I invite others to be their authentic selves, I make my experience available for reference. Because some things can feel so alientating, so ...guilt-producing, only to later discover that others have felt this way. In those times, I think "wow, I thought I was the only one. I wish I had known this sooner."

I hate that some topics are so taboo to discuss. Like depression. Like sex and sexuality. I remember struggling with my feelings about an ex and my infrequent and unsatisfying sex life; eventually I think I just shut off my libido because that was easier, then I felt like a freak. I was in my early 20s and not at all interested in sex and I felt so guilty about it. But it didn't seem like the kind of thing to talk about. And then when I did start talking about it... well, I heard the opposite of others being there too. I actually heard "that's not okay. Really, Gretchen, that's not okay." But even that helped to hear because I had gotten to a place of complacency and acceptance.

Or when I was in TFA, I kept feeling like everyone around me was doing okay. All the other TFAers who I talked with were so positive and seemed a little discriminatory when I expressed that I was having difficulty. They would frown and didn't seem to listen, they'd just ask "well, are you doing ___ in your classroom" with a tone that I interpreted as "well maybe if you were doing the right things, like I'm doing, you wouldn't feel so bad." Then we had a seminar just before school started about depression, anxiety, dealing with stress -- only about 2 hrs on it; it should've been a whole day in my opinion. And one of our advisors said something like "if you start fantasizing about driving into a guardrail so that you don't have to go teach, that's not okay." And I thought oh my god, how did he know?! But also okay, I'm not alone. I'm not the only person in TFA who really feels awful and doesn't want to do this and who has doubts and fears and complicated, conflicting emotions. I just wish I'd discussed it a little sooner with everyone when I was there. And, funny thing is, the two people who I felt the closest to emotionally -- Jenna and Meeshy -- have both left the Valley, though Jenna transfered to the Twin Cities to finish out her committment.

And Jenna said to me recently that I was the reason she stayed because we had this moment during our Houston training. Jenna and I spent almost all day together because we were in the same advisory group and taught middle school Language Arts at the same time across the hall from each other. So we did all our lesson planning together -- thankfully so because I otherwise don't know how I wouldn've done it. And one morning we were driving to Sharpstown MS together, instead of riding the bus. And I think I got lost; we were talking and not paying attention and Jenna forgot to tell me which exit to take (I fell asleep on the bus every day during the 30min ride). So I pulled off the interstate and into a parking lot... and I just lost it -- I told Jenna that she needed to drive and I just remember telling her that I didn't know if I could do it (I also was only sleeping about 4 hrs/night). And Jenna gave me a very sweet peptalk, reminding me about my philosophies and my reasons for having joined, reminding me of my strengths as a teacher. And we made it through that day, and that week, and that summer. But Jenna claims that it was because I put her in the role of encouraging and giving advice, at which she is her strongest and best self, that she felt her power return and that she was able to continue on. If that's not a reason to pour your heart out, what is?

I spent too long holding back feelings and emotions and not expressing them. One thing that's been hard recently is that I have SUCH a hard time communicating with an ex-boyfriend sometimes. It's like my emotions get stirred up to the point that I can't distinguish them. I can't figure out what the truth is. It's like a pond getting stirred up with sludge from the bottom and suddenly I can't see the pearls that I know are down there. I can't figure out what I'm feeling; it just all feels bad. Why is that? I used to feel like I was good at communicating. I guess that's why I like writing; I have more time to think through what I'm going to say. To try out a sentence and then say no, that's not it. That's not really how I feel. That's just the surface level piece; the deeper thing is ____. I feel like that's why I have a hard time with anger. Others will disagree but I feel that anger is more of a surface level emotion. Maybe it is one of the most primal and basic human emotions but I feel like it's stemmed from something else -- like insecurity, fear, rejection, betrayal, guilt, disappointment. I feel like those are deeper emotions. And so it's hard for me to classify my anger in that way; I want to dig down and say okay, yes, I am angry about what he did but why does that make me angry? Oh, it's because I feel rejected. Because I worry that he was not being totally truthful and I was deceived and that makes me feel embarrassed and guilty about being a fool. So then, it's not really about being angry; it's about my perceptions of how things were and about my desires to feel loved in a certain way and my subsequent disappointment and grief about not being loved that way. So yes, I can be angry but there's more to it. Yet I recognize I have a very hard time getting angry. I just want to forgive. I want to be through it. Feeling sad and disappointed are easier for me than feeling angry and frustrated. Maybe I need to embrace the idiom "fool me once... shame on you. Fool me -- you can't get fooled again" -- no, wait, that's what Bush said. It's actually "fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." I think I skip over the "once" part. I need not.

On a new topic: dating
I haven't been single much in the last 5+ years... It sucks. Sure, I have all kinds of time to myself. Sure, I'm trying to feel good about that fact that I can say "wow, I have an entire Friday night to craft in any way I like withouth anyone else to influence it." But I'd rather be in a relationship. My gyno recently called me a serial monogomist. Ha! Yeh... I guess. But isn't that mostly because I was with someone for 4 years? But it's true. I like being in a relationship. I like that comfort and security (ha, in actuality it's never been that comfortable and secure). I like getting to know someone deeply and having someone know me; there's something comforting about being known. Which is why I have maintained friendships with friends of over a decade -- they know me. Well, in addition to the fact that they are fabulous women who I love and admire. But they know me. I love that.

But really, dating. I know that I need to grow in ways. I need to learn to have more boundaries, to not make my life and efforts about my partner, to not pour everything I have into that, to accept more of what he is giving, to expect more and demand more. I know I need to make my own friends and my own life more than I have now. I know I need to move more slowly in love, to open my heart more slowly.

I do think that I'll eventually meet someone for me. I don't really believe in "the one" anymore. I think there may be several possibilities depending on how life unfolds. But I do hope that there is some kind of fate. That the Rascal Flatts song "Bless the Broken Road" will be true for me (I set out on a narrow way many years ago, hoping I would find true love along the broken road. But I got lost a time or two, wiped my brow and kept pushing through. I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you. Every long lost dream led me to where you are. Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true -- That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.)
Geez I'm a sap sometimes. But, yes, I hope that will be sooner than later. Yet I recognize that my heart is not ready to risk itself just yet. And in the past, I've jumped heart-first into relationships and risked being open and vulnerable, hoping that I'll get that back in return. I'm not willing to risk that yet; I say that out of context because it's not like I've met anyone and am faced with opening up or not... So what is one to do? Ugh. Love. Relationships. I'd think being single, there's less to worry about. True. But barely.

And then friends. Joe and I went to see "I Love You, Man" last night. It's like my plight to find some girlfriends here. (For those who haven't seen it, Paul Rudd's character is getting married but doesn't have any guy friends to be his groomsmen so he sets out on "man dates" to make some guy friends.) And it totally captures the awkwardness of trying to make new friends that is so similar to courtship and dating. I was joking with someone about trying to meet someone at the gym, unless I lift weights or take a class, since I typically run on the treadmill -- "um, say Miss, I see you're at a pretty high incline, like myself. What is that-- like a 4? Seems like we're running at the same speed. Maybe we should take this outside sometime. Can I get your number?" In the past, making friends was not my strongsuit. It can be so uncomfortable in the beginning. I'd rather stay at home painting my office than call someone and have to propose something or other to do... but part of that is that I just want the quality time, the activity itself doesn't matter as much. I hate thinking of things to invite people to do.

But hey, I just took golf lessons, just to learn something new, to challenge my brain a little, to give a sport a chance that I've always thought was kinda stupid (but never really given it a chance). And I suck at it, like I expected, but I also enjoyed practicing driving off the tee more than I thought I would. I'd totally do that again. So, naturally, things are looking up slightly. I'm working on making that more dramatic.

Thank you for your support and love, and for reading! :-)