Saturday, April 29, 2017

Happy

Do you know what sucks about suddenly finding some happiness after managing to get by on "okay" for so long? That first stumble makes you realize how precarious that status is. Anything can send you flying off that tiny little platform. In the beginning of anything that sparks the chemical euphoria in your brain, it's always perfect. Always awesome. Flawless.



In reality, nothing is ever really perfect. As fairly rational people functioning in this fucked up world, on some level we all know this. We accept it. We manage to overlook the sloppy pile of clothing discarded on the floor in the living room because we know that there are bigger, uglier things to be upset about. Why argue about those little ticks that make you frown, when you know for a fact that you've cried over much nastier circumstances in the past?

The problem with overlooking all those little hiccups making you cringe in the beginning is that there will eventually come a time when you will be comfortable enough to say something about a handful of them. A brand new boyfriend occasionally spying on your Twitter feed may be explained as cute insecurity at the start but can quickly blossom into a feeling of overbearing hovering as time goes on. The occasional mention of the last ex can be waved away as a period of getting to know each other and purging of the past for the first few months, but how many months do you let it go before the next syllable remotely related to that past starts to grate on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard?

But when you're neurotic, like me, how do you know when it's healthy to address issues and when you're just being overbearingly picky yourself?

I haven't written much here...obviously. I came to a fork in the road. Do I go about my own way and enjoy full disclosure as I always have in my writing? Or do I respect the new people in my life and keep many aspects private?

Toeing the line is hard. Angel and Devil have sat happily perched beside each ear, and have enjoyed tugging at me back and forth. What's the right thing to do?

Well, my Orange Theory journey was short and sweaty and sweet. As much as I enjoyed the ass-kicking workouts which proved to be difficult and really challenging, the truth of the matter is that I couldn't afford them. It didn't take much for me to part ways with Orange Theory Fitness. Not gonna lie; I cried a little.

Let's be blunt. I make good money. I make REALLY good money, and since I don't pay full rent (and haven't paid full rent in a number of years), I should be debt free, have a fat saving account. I should be able to afford a too-expensive gym to work off my too-heavy weight. But bad choices, irresponsible spending, and lack of a real plan for my life has lead me to this dead end. 

Day by day, I feel a little less angry, a little less anxious, and a little less bitter. I didn't think I had it all that bad before, but when someone else points it out so clearly, it was harder to pretend it wasn't a problem. Someone told me as things started to heal inside, all the anger and confusion would slowly ebb away so subtly that I wouldn't even realize it until I woke up one day feeling happy for no reason.

Holy shit. Look at that. It happened. I don't know when it happened, but one day I opened my eyes after getting a full night's rest, and actually felt a huge weight lifted off my chest. Something heavy was gone. Some burden was no longer there. I wasn't feeling the usual sorrow to wake up to a new day. I wasn't anchored down with that familiar barbed wire tangle of pain wrapped around me.

I didn't think too much about people from my past and feel that victimization that I was wallowing in. I think TJ's untimely death really woke me up. TJ and I spent so much time over-analyzing everything. We were the "careful" types. No over-committing. No love at first sight. No soulmates. Just fun right now. Stay young as long as we can. Why commit? Why plan too far ahead? Just live in the now. Well, TJ lived in his now, but missed out on so much he eventually admitted he wanted to do. Marriage. Kids. Family. All the stuff he claimed he never wanted, he recently admitted he was ready for. And none of that will ever happen for him now.

He didn't waste time staying angry at his exes. He didn't burn calories worrying about whether or not his old loves were now happier without him. He made peace with everyone. He reminded me how much joy I brought to his life during the time we were together, and how grateful he was that we were still friends and could still talk about everything with one another no holds barred. Full disclosure. He isn't here anymore, and I feel like one of those rare people who knew me inside-out and loved me unselfishly for a time is erased. How many people in my life know me and love me the way TJ did?

I don't take for granted the beautiful future I am about to have. I know I am lucky to have what I do now, and I know it's something that will take work every single day to maintain. I didn't think I deserved all this. Am I good enough? Will I be worthy of this going forward? Is this all going to work out?

Will it be worth everything I am about to leave behind?

I know the answer to all of these questions. I do. But, I wouldn't be me if I didn't worry about it anyway.

2 comments:

  1. Worry your head off, but do the right thing anyway. How long have you put your own happiness off to take care of other people? How much longer do you have to wait in the back of the line before you realize it's your turn to take a deep breath for a change?

    We are really going to miss you here when you go. Don't be a stranger. Park Slope dRUNkards love you! And we will be here for you whether or not you are physically here. You've been a great friend to us all.

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    1. I think I only just realized this weekend how lonely it's going to be for me out there when I go. I know I'm okay on my own, and if I try really hard I can make friends. But, my way of life is going to go away, and I feel like I'm being dropped in the middle of an unfamiliar planet. I'm really going to miss you guys.

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