I went on home to my skyscrapers

April 26, 2011

Becoming an adult has been dumb. Really dumb. I don’t like it. Making hard decisions and being responsible is about as fun as taking out the trash and remembering to go to the dentist (which are two responsible adult things I hate doing.) I’m awful at being an adult, even though I’ve considered myself to be pretty “adult” for most of my life, but I also thought that being an adult meant you behave a certain way… I’m realizing I don’t have to turn that on anymore or put on that show. It’s not karaoke night at club Natalie; I get to make up the words this time.

I was taking the train back from Westchester yesterday and had a couple of harsh life-realizations. Anyone who has spoken to me about writing knows I do my best writing when I’m uncomfortable, and more specifically, claustrophobic. Put me in a closet, on an airplane/bus/train, under a bed, bag over my head… 10,000 words will fly out of my fingers, no problem. Yesterday, while trapped three seats in (ohhh yeah window seat), I got to thinking and couldn’t find a pen. So I dabbled a little on my ipod notepad (I hate writing on cell phones/ipods/digitally/whatever) and had a couple things that stuck:

1. I have wonderful friends. I’m finally hitting a stride where I have a friendfamily that isn’t a compiled of people of convenience. People I want to see. People that like seeing me. This morning, the starbucks lady recognizes me during corporate coffee rush hour, and I almost cried with happiness. My happy network is growing by the day and it’s making me feel not so alone.

2. The hardest part of making a mistake is recognizing it and learning from it. My greatest challenge is not bottling up what I feel, or being so delusional that I’m caught up in something to the point where I feel trapped. You know when you have a toothache and you’re thinking “hey, this might be a cavity, I should go to the dentist.” A normal person would make an appointment and go to the dentist. I, on the other hand, will think about going to the dentist 24-7 for about three months, tell myself what a pussy I am, and then after I bite down on some olive pit and break my tooth in half will I go to the dentist. I will lie to myself to get through the day. I grew up witnessing the “stay together for the kids” mentality, and subsequently my entire life has been based on a decision making process that consists of putting up with a situation until I’m ready to kill myself. (Examples: Daniel, my last apartment, and my last stint in “dating”.)
I am breaking this habit now. This past week has been my last mistake on that ledger. Yeah, I’m gonna make mistakes where I hate myself, but let it be known that this is the last time I allow myself to be THAT delusional and refuse to learn from it. I will not settle. I will not compromise in my relationships anymore, friend or foe. I am about to say the scariest thing in the world for someone who is as self-deprecating and insecure as I am, but I might, I JUST MIGHT, deserve better. I hate saying that because I hate the idea that I “deserve” something. I think people “deserve” what they’ve earned. I haven’t earned that happiness, so why do I deserve it? I guess the new perspective is that unhappiness isn’t deserved or earned. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. Ugh I’m awful with emotional logic, but it makes sense in my own head, goddamnit. I deserve to not be unhappy aka I don’t deserve to be unhappy. Yes, I’m not strong enough (or delusional enough) to scream from the rooftops that we all deserve happiness and blahblahblah, but this is the first step in a huge mind fuck I’ve been trying to get a grasp on for as long as I can remember.

3. Just because you’re being honest, doesn’t mean you’re being clear. Example: I can be honest and say I don’t like your shirt – yes, brutal, “but I’m being honest!” – but it doesn’t tell you I don’t like that shirt because my ex-boyfriend had the same one and used to tell me what a worthless whore I was whenever he was wearing it so now every time I see you wearing it I want to cry and be emotionally distant while telling you I still maybe care. Woof.

From now on, we continue to fly by the seat of our pants. Fall in love easily and get hurt regularly. Jump off of high places not knowing if we’re going to be caught or shatter every bone in our bodies. We don’t dance like nobody’s watching because DUH big brother is (we’re not crazy goddamnit.) My trauma will scar me, but I’ll learn from it the way I’m supposed to this time. I refuse to let it drag me down and give up hope. On my wall I’ve written, “thank you. i had a lovely time” to remind me to keep getting high of the happy moments, accepting the good with the horrible. It’s the truth: I had a great time, so thanks, but all good, bad, tolerable and mediocre things must come to an end to make room for better things. That’s where we’re going. See you when we get there.

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