I think about the things that no one is suppose to. I would clean my house, I wouldn’t want people to think that I was a slob. It’s funny to be so concerned about what people think but it’s true. I also think about what I would wear, it would have to be a pretty summer sun dress because summer has always been the best time of year, regardless of what’s going on. I would make sure to brush my hair and do my nails, but not my makeup. I would want it to really be me, nothing to hide myself. I wonder if it would be better to pretend it was an accident, spare my loved ones the guilt, but then I would not have one last chance to tell them how much I loved them and that nothing is their fault. I wonder if I should take care of my finances or if that stuff just get’s worked out after the fact. I would hate to burden my family with my debt. I would hope that the little I did have could go to a good cause, but that doesn’t really seem like the way the world works. I think about whether my oldest brother will be upset that I named my other brother as a sole beneficiary on my insurance. It was only because I trust my other brother to make sure everyone is responsible with the money and I know he would never not help out the whole family.
I would play music, not a play list or certain album but my favorite Pandora station because I know that it would play for a long time. I would hope that the music would follow me wherever I may go. If I were really thoughtful I would pack all of my stuff up for easy removal, but that may be a little to depressing for even me. I want my stuff around me, to give me a little feeling of normalcy. I would go to bed just as I always do with my music playing but with no need to set an alarm.
The things that I don’t think about are what happen after, not just to me but everyone I know. I don’t think about how much it may effect others and potentially do so much damage. I don’t think about how cowardly and selfish I will appear to everyone who is not in my head. I don’t think about how much hurt I will cause by trying to alleviate my own. I don’t think about how this will forever put a damper on any family events that may occur. I don’t think about that it may have all changed, if I had just given it a little bit more time, had I waited it out it could have gotten better, this feeling could have gone away for good.
But I don’t think of any of these things, instead I think about peacefully listening to music as the hurting and loneliness finally subside. But these are only thoughts….
Someone once told me that the definition of insanity is doing the same things repeatedly but expecting different result. Although fitting, it is untrue. The definition of insanity is: 1. A severe mental illness and 2. Something that is very foolish or unreasonable. The latter, unfortunately indicates that I am, in fact insane. For I am both foolish and unreasonable.
Every female has that one friend that never moves on and always has problems with the same man. It could be the typical on again of again relationship or something a little more complicated and bazaar. I knew one girl who had slept with a guy a few times and four years after the fact she is still obsessing about him and talks about how he ruined her life and made her fat. Not every situation is that extreme but it does seem as though there are a lot those types of scenarios. Embarrassingly I must admit that I have become that friend.
I have always prided myself on being able to get over things and being realistic. I think that I take rejection pretty well and learn from it, when I am given honest information. I don’t hold grudges and I forgive and understand very easily. But what I have failed to notice about myself is that I don’t learn lessons when it comes to certain men. I fall into the same cycles over and over again and I am stupid enough to think that one day something different will happen. I use to tell myself that that was what made me insane, until I looked up the real definition which was even more fitting.
Since I was 24 I have been sleeping with the same man who had never had any intention of dating me. I have been lead on and disappointed by him on countless occasions and yet I keep getting sucked in to it. For six years I have been pretending that I don’t care when he stands me up or cancels on me. I have smiled and acted as if nothing could ever bother me. All along I have wasted so much time crying and complaining to my mother and friends. I can’t even imagine how beyond tiered and frustrated they are with the same topic that I have been on for over half a decade. The worst part is that I never have the balls to say anything to him, instead I just sit and stew and dump my emotional disasters on the people closest to me. And every time I think that I am finally ready to move on I sleep with him and start the process all over again, if that is not foolish I don’t know what is.
I have always been a very compassionate friend but after a while if one of my friends keeps repeating bad decisions with the same man I tend to stop giving feed back. I was always a firm believer that if you keep trying to drink the scalding hot coffee, knowing it’s scalding hot you have no right to yell out in pain and effect other people. There have been other men/guys/boys whom I’ve gotten into these stupid repeating patterns with but I always know after the first time they hurt me and I continue to get involved that I am the only one to blame and therefore can no longer complain. I have lived by this rule for a long time and yet now I find myself constantly talking about the same man, the same problem and the same non-existent solution. I worry that soon my friends will just start to avoid me. I wish I could avoid myself. It’s not looking like I will stop being foolish and unreasonable any time soon but I do hope that I can at least learn how to keep my insanity to myself. It is already painful enough to not have a meaning love relationship in my life I can’t afford to lose all of my friendships as well.
It has been a very long time since I have been able to allow myself to be angry at other people. I spent a lot of time when I was younger being angry at the world and everyone in it. I perceived everything as a direct attack on me, in turn I hurt a lot of people and felt awful about myself. Then I had a very cliché moment of clarity. I was driving home from work my junior year of college, it was dark and I had just smoked a terrible amount of weed. The rain started to come down so hard that my windshield wipers could not keep up, I started to drift towards the center line until a very large eighteen wheeler laid on the horn while coming at me. After I stopped shaking from my near death experience I started to envision what would have happened if instead of swerving off the road I was now dead on the side of it. The first thing that came into my mind was my friend whom I was on the rocks with. She had started sleeping with the same guy I had professed my love to only one night after he rejected me, in the same house I lived in, in the next bedroom. We had been very close but this little bump in the road had put a damper on our relationship. We hadn’t really spoken in over a month, and yet when faced with the possibility of death I couldn’t stop thinking about how she would feel if I died with her thinking that I hated her. I drove home (we were also roommate at the time), gave her a hug and told her that although I was still really hurt I didn’t hate her. From that moment on any time I feel myself starting to be mad at anyone I just think about me spontaneously dieing and how unfair it would be to those people.
So I don’t hold grudges, I don’t ever let people believe I’m mad at them. Whenever I do allow myself to feel anything it’s typically hurt and I always blame that on myself. Even when things are really bad I am always able to turn it back around on myself, that I was the one in the wrong and therefore can not take it out on anyone else. I take on every facet of my life in this regard. I use to think that brushing my hair really hurt my head, I hated running my hair brush threw my hair. One day my friend went to use my hair brush and yelled out in pain. She asked me why I would use such a painful brush. In the five plus years I had own the brush I never once thought that maybe it was the brush and not my head that was causing the pain. I always assume that I am the one in the wrong, that I am the one that needs to change or adapt.
But what happens when I really am mad, when someone really does do something to intentionally hurt me? Where does that leave me. I don’t know how to be properly mad. I spend all of my energy on justifying their actions and figuring out how to deal with it. I blame myself for letting them cause me the pain, I am the weak one who let them do this to me. Yes it’s nice to know that if I get killed in my sleep by a meteor that no one has to feel guilty but what do I do while I’m living? How do I tell someone that I am mad at them? How do I stop blaming myself for every thing bad that happens to me? Because it is possible that every great once in awhile someone does do something to make me mad and I had absolutely no way of controlling it.
I remember being younger and pretending that I lived in a big house with a dog and a family, now as an adult I still pretend. I have gotten into a never ending obligation of being the person who watches everyone lives while they go on vacation. It started simply enough, just watching my boss’s puppy while they visited their daughter in Hawaii. That puppy is now three and a half years old and I’m still watching him. Unfortunately being responsible has only left the door wide open to every other animal owner in my life to request my services.
At first I loved the idea of house sitting, it gave me a break from my current roommate and typically the houses I get to stay in are nicer than any place I could ever afford. I love having dogs to run with and play with. But slowly I began to notice that if I stayed at someone’s house for too long I began to not only get depressed but also resentful. I have begun to hate taking care of the every day task while other people actually get to enjoy the fun parts of life. Not only is it disheartening that I haven’t been on a real vacation in over six years, but now I feel as though people only see me as someone to water their plants and walk their dogs. Even my best friend was not so jokingly talking about how she needs to check with my boss about her schedule in the spring because her and her boy friend are going on vacation and want to make sure I will be available to watch her dog. Stupid me, at first I thought she was going to invite me on her trip to Hawaii, but no I’m just needed to once again take care of the dog.
On top of feeling like I only have one purpose to even my closest friends, I then have to actually pretend to live their lives, by myself. While they are all off with their loved ones, I am all alone. My boss has a huge house that is meant for a family and instead it’s just me there, left to think about how alone I am. If I stay there more then a few nights I start to get so depressed thinking about how my life will never be that way. I don’t think I will ever own a house, let alone a big beautiful one. It’s not looking like I will ever have a family of my own, or anything for anyone to ever watch if I ever did get to go on vacation. Basically being thrown into others peoples lives just makes me realize everything that I am missing. It’s not as if I don’t realize these things on a daily basis but when you are waking up at five in the morning to take someone else’s dog for a walk it really hits home. I will only ever get the mundane responsibilities of playing house, but never the rewarding parts of actual having a home life of my own.