I think I want to make this a more often type of thing…

I flex from one minute to another – I’m either miserably lonely or miserably content. I know that seems like more of the same on either end of the spectrum…but like…it’s not?

I mean it is. Yeah, I get it. I just feel one at least lets me be a little better off than the other. I’ve positioned myself in scenarios that don’t help my cause though. I’ve talked at length about my issues in my past posts but like, I’m never one to fix the things I know need fixing. I’m stuck between the now and the later – the meantime I hear it’s called.

The meantime is the point in life between two significant events. It’s a beautiful sentiment, really. That the lull we sometimes feel is there to break up the excitement of life changing circumstances because we need a break from the blood rushing life alterations to keep us…

Honestly, I’m bullshitting. My gripe is that while I think the idea behind the word and the in-between moments of our lives are still beautiful in their own rights…when should we be expecting these significant events? How long does the meantime last? What if that significant event never comes? Or worse, it came and we missed it? The latter makes me worried that I missed out on something that needed to be commemorated, that needed to be given attention. And I guess I’m asking for too much right now – I JUST graduated college, JUST started a new job not 6 months ago. Those are both significant life events…but I guess my question is when will I feel like I’ve made it? When will I feel like I’ve become the person I’m supposed to be?

I ask this every post it feels, and I never talk myself into realizing that maybe I am that person. Maybe I am the person I’m supposed to be, but I just don’t let myself be that person. I said it last time even. How do I fix that? How can I be comfortable enough to be myself for everyone?

I sometimes think I need to move away to find what I’m looking for. I’m so dead set on wanting to stay in this house…I’ve convinced myself that this is what I want – to live in and take care of the house that my family has called home since 1988. The only family to have called it a home actually. I’ve lived, laughed, and loved in this home. I watched family come and go in this house; watched them wither away, take their last breaths, mourn, grieve, love each other, argue, get arrested…however a family exists in this world, we’ve done in this very spot. For 35 years. But, my wonder is…what if I’m not supposed to stay? What if the answer to my miserable loneliness, my miserable existence and my introspective want to find myself isn’t in this place? What if I’m supposed to move to a new place…far away…away from the people who know me and have certain expectations of me?

I can’t help but get happy at the thought of starting over somewhere new. I know what it means for me…leaving friends, family, love interests…the whole 9. But even still, I think about it and I get a little…I don’t know, excited I guess. I mean, the likelihood of it happening is slim to none. I’m not anywhere near confident enough to leave my comfort zone yet. As an educator I still have so much to learn about not being bad at my job and the schoolboard schedule is WAY too good to not have again. But…I sometimes wish I could get back to wanting to do what I’ve always wanted to do, which is write for a living. Imagine running a column that allows me to put my words into something others are also passionate about? To grow an audience and connect with people just by using my words and by creating content? Ugh…that makes me hopeful.

I’m stuck in this position where I feel like I need to be happy I got into a career that can and will sustain me for however long I want to do it. But at the same time…being an educator wasn’t ALWAYS a dream of mine. I decided on it BECAUSE of the sustainability of it, and because it made sense since I was always working within music education anyways. But…my dream is still and will always be to create things: compositions, stories, videos, films, speeches…art. To create all art. That’s what I’ve always wanted, and I just settled for the most definite path.

And maybe I need to stick to that path while I can save up money and start a life for myself. But if I could find a job that does both? Sustain and fulfill that passion? I mean…come on.

I don’t know what it is I’m meant to do…but I feel like I’m meant to connect with others outside of myself more than I do now. While being socially anxious, I tend to be a people person…I have a way of connecting that seems to make sense for me. I feel like my words help people, or at least they can. Or I feel like I have a way them anyways…words I mean. And people for that matter.

Or maybe I don’t…but I don’t know. I’m rambling at this point.

I think I just wanted to write some more tonight and this was a stream of consciousness kind of post. I’ll revisit these thoughts at a later date. Until then…I’ll just ponder more and more.

New Year…Same Old Me.

What can I say about 2022 that hasn’t been said already? Did this year suck? No. Actually, it didn’t. I graduated college, started a new career, achieved something that hadn’t been done before in the activity that I work so hard to be recognized in…despite having road blocks the whole way. To give myself some credit, I’ve done some pretty good things for myself.

So, it’ll come as surprise then when I say this next part: why doesn’t it feel that way? Why do I feel like I’m leaving 2022 the same way I went into it?

Last December I confessed my feelings for a girl I had gotten close with over the course of the 2021; one I had thought was perfect for me and one I had felt was in a place that could recognize that the relationship she was in previously wasn’t good enough for her and that I was maybe worth checking into. Whelp, now look at me. Same story, same setting, different year.

I realize that this type of blogging isn’t indicative of the age I should be acting. LOL. As if that matters I suppose. I don’t know.

I guess my biggest complaint with myself is that I feel too much. I say it a lot these days, but it’s my dad’s fault. And it doesn’t help I was raised by women. I mean, I think that actually does give me a leg up? Again, I don’t know. I need therapy. I need help understanding everything that is wrong with me.

I’m sitting at my house on New Year’s Eve raging about not being wanted by a singular person when frankly she isn’t worth being upset over? Like…I’ve done NOTHING but question my own self worth since being interested in her, but when I think about it what has she done to deserve my attention and the best parts of me? We’ve established that we are friends…she says best friends. But, how does that work? I feel like I’m an after thought in her life most times. And honestly…that shouldn’t even be a big deal considering the precedent we’ve set up for ourselves. I’ve confessed my feelings and she’s remained constant – we’re just best friends.

These issues are mine and mine alone. I take it out on her and others because I’m incapable of getting over feelings because I’ve been taught my entire life that it’s OK to have them. That it’s OK to feel them and to keep feeling them. The more I allow myself to feel them, the stronger they get.

But I know she isn’t the one who deserves me. She’s not the one I’m going to end up with. At least…I’m pretty sure. If I have to put this much effort into just being a thought in her head, then I know she isn’t the one I’ll be crazy for in a year. At least if history has taught me anything.

My issue is that I’m so desperate for love. I consider all of the things I’ve accomplished this year and none of it seems to matter without having someone to share it with. I’ve fallen away from my faith because I’m terrified of the answer I think God has for me. And I feel that by not going to church I can circumvent His plans. I know that’s ridiculous. I can’t hide from what He wants, and I can’t think that what I want is at all important in the grand scheme of things. I’ve just been praying and begging for the right one to come along – for God to pair me with someone who loves me and will be with me and will treat me the same way I treat these other girls that come into my life – as if I’m the only option for them. As if I’m the most important person in the room at any given time. And I get so angry thinking about it not happening.

My friends also make the joke that maybe I was meant to be a priest; my love of theology and philosophy sometimes lead me to think it wouldn’t be that farfetched of an idea. But then I get sad…I WANT love. I WANT a wife, kids, the suburban lifestyle – I want to LOVE and be LOVED. My life will never seem to be complete or happy without it.

I say that because the majority of my life isn’t terrible, honestly. I mean, yes, I have a lot of things I have to get over trauma wise, a lot of things I have to face in terms of relationships within my family and with my friends. But even though I know that things are going sort of well, my biggest hang up is that I ALWAYS feel lonely. All of my depression seems to stem from that idea. I don’t sit down at this computer to write without my loneliness leading me to the thoughts I have – the darkness stems from an idle mind. This new girl staved it off for a good bit…but now? It’s worse than before. Because I’m reminded how not good I am, how no matter the connections I thought I had with this person, I’m still not good enough to be with them. And I know she said it had nothing to do with that…but how can I not think about it that way?

I wish I knew where this chain of thought stemmed from. I really do. Cause then maybe I could fix it on my own, help myself understand how to get better at being me…allow myself to just find the confidence I need in everything I do.

Maybe that should be my resolution – to just be me. No better, no worse – just me. I could do it I guess. For all of my self-deprecating tendencies and the constant abuse I put on myself, I know I’m a great person and a catch for all intents and purposes. I offer a lot to a lot of people…I just need to allow myself to not give a shit what my worth is to other people. If they don’t see it, that’s on them. I wish I could get her to see it…but if it’s not meant to be, I have to find a way to accept that.

So new year new me…no…just me. New year…and me just being the person I’ve become. No better or worse…just me.