Monday, June 20, 2011
I've been through quite a few different emotions as of late. I was giddy and excited and hopeful and open to something new and beautiful...and although not a real word, I guess you could say I was feeling a little "smittenish"and for once in a long while, it felt like a good place to be.
I found myself smiling more and being silly for no reason; people took notice of my happiness. Oh my happy; it was indeed a good place to be. And then, without warning that a storm was brewing, the lights went out, proving once again that all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade.
When a serious step needed to be taken, a different path was chosen; leaving me standing at the fork alone with my tears and disillusion. It could be a classic case of "poor me," but not for this girl. Remember behind those weepy eyes, I'm tough...right?!
I'm made of cold hard metal beneath my skin, just like you.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, "Every wall is a door." For every obstacle that we encounter in this life, there is always a way over it. There is nothing that can prevent us from getting through it and moving on, knowing that at the point of impact, we are the ones that hold the key to it's door.
My pursuit has not been dashed, it just begins again.
I will never lose sight of who I am and what I want. I'm true to myself, but recognize those who come into my life for a reason and change it for the better. Even the hardest of metals have their melting point.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
By definition, the word itself means "depressed or discouraged by the failure of one's hopes or expectations." Fair enough, but to fully appreciate disappointment for what it is, you have to a clear understanding of the word hope, "the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best."
Hope is the angel, disappointment is the devil that puts the kibosh on all of those glorious daydreams and leaves you wondering if you weren't just hallucinating everything that happened up until the point the bubble was burst.
Hope is the free fall, filled with spontaneous butterflies and a heart so filled with glee it could burst at any minute and you wouldn't care. Disappointment is when you realize that you're strapped to a faulty chute, knowing that at any moment you might come crashing down and that every emotion that you felt prior is overcome with disillusion.
Disappointment is like a cancer. It is an unwelcome invasion that intrudes upon and destroys everything in it's path. Disappointment is the Mac Daddy of affliction, unlike other emotions that define a particular feeling, disappointment uses it's poison to combine a whole slew of singular emotions to feed it's disease. Anger, hate, resentment, anxiety, sadness, aggravation. I could go on and on, but you get it.
Back in the day the most effective way for my parents to "punish" me was to let me know just how disappointed they were in relation to some thing I had done. It cut like a knife and left me to analyze what exactly I needed to do so that they never felt that way again. I'm not sure what is worse, to disappoint or be the one left disappointed, either way it is a tumultuous shit show of disgust.
I figuratively went to bed with disappointment last night and awoke to find it still sleeping nest to me. Seriously, just who do you think you are? Please, for once, just make up some lame excuse, throw on your clothes and get the hell out! I don't want or need you in my life! I have been used and abused by just about every emotion out there, but you sir are the worst.
Friday, June 17, 2011
The ugly cry ain't pretty folks! It is often accompanied by lots of snot and hyperventilation, which really helps to seal the hot mess deal. The more I try to control it, the harder I usually end up sobbing. It is a foolish reaction on my part and frustrating because there is nothing that I can do to stop it. So I cry and I cry and cry some more. Sometimes I cry so hard that I can't even form a simple word. When it does finally come out it sounds as if I've been afflicted with some horrible form of Tourettes.
Not only is it uncomfortable for me, but for anyone on the receiving end of that shit thinks they've stabbed me to the core with their otherwise harmless words. It really isn't you, it's me. You aren't hurting me any more than you would if I were able to man up a little. I just look and act as if I were, so please carry on, I am fine dammit!
When it comes to crying, I am pretty consistent. I make the exact same face today as I did as a toddler. Same big pouty lips and one of the most tragically sad expressions ever. I'd feel sorry for me if I had to look at myself. Crumbling on the outside, shaken but stoic on the inside.
When I was little my Mom would often play the "Free to Be, You and Me" album for me, there was a song on it called "It's Alright to Cry and to this day every time that I cry I can hear Rosey Grier's voice singing, "It's alright to cry, crying gets the sad out of you. It's alright to cry, it might make you feel better." It really does! A good cry, in my opinion, is therapeutic. It may not take all the sad away but it sure does help.
Crying is such a normal reaction for me, it is hard to imagine someone not crying. Holding all that pent-up pain and emotional stress inside can't be healthy! It manifests itself into destructive behaviors and aggression. It is unimaginable to me how someone could bottle that all up inside. I also can't imagine a life without a stable shoulder to rest your head on and a sympathetic ear to listen. Someone who can ultimately reel you back into reality.
My father is a perfect sounding board for these kind of events. He loves to tell me in his slow, southern drawl "Sugar, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." My response is always, "Well then I should have the strength of 10 men by now!" I really hated that expression for a long time because although I wasn't dead, I sure as hell didn't feel any stronger! Not after the first, fifth or thirtieth time he said it to me. Why? Because I didn't actually accept the context in which he meant it. After years of reflection, I know that he means my heart, mind and spirit.
Sure hearts break, but they eventually mend. Minds get lost, but are found in good time and spirits crushed, but never completely stripped away. I will rebuild. My foundation will be stronger, my perception wiser and my affection returned to it's rightful owner.
I'm just not there quite yet, but it will happen. In the meantime, it's alright to cry.