Wednesday, August 08, 2007

I Get by with a Little Help From My Friends…

Okay…this is so not going to be a typical blog.

I can see this quickly careening off into a vast expanse of reverie and mindless drivel, so I’m going to do my best to stay on point and just get this out. Because, honestly and truly, I feel the need to document it somehow…as if that well may make my endless gratitude something more real…something actually tangible.

Hmm, I appear to already be headed off course. Let’s rectify that, shall we?

I realize I haven’t been the brightest person in the world lately. No, let me rephrase; what I just typed there sounds like I’ve been walking around Queen Street wearing shoes on my head and hooting at passersby (Seriously, passersby? Not passerbys? Huh, who knew?). I realize that I’ve been down. I realize that I’ve been wandering around in a shockingly dark place for a while now. Almost a month, I think, at quick glance.

For anyone who knows me at all, my slightly masochistic side is no great surprise. I remember when I used to lay in bed and pray every night. Except on the days that something awful and dark had happened. When I likely need the comfort and touch of Spirit upon my soul more than ever, I turned away.

It had nothing to do with Faith. Faith I have in unreasonable amounts. Faith in my heart and my soul that doesn’t come from words I’ve been trained to speak or books I’ve been told to read. But on the days when I felt so desperate for forgiveness or understanding…For the days when I had trouble breathing around the ache in my chest, I would not pray. I simply refused to let God think I was only speaking to him because I needed something.

Oh, there were times I broke down. Times when I allowed myself to beg. Although, only two come to mind from out of my very long memory.

The first was when I felt like my entire world was falling down around me. When my four-sided group of friends seemed to be doing nothing but fighting and I tried to constantly play the referee without suffering under the weight of my empathy. Val still lived away then, and the summers were our time to be together. But, in the end, I always was the one who had to make the flight to wherever she was. It was something I accepted, but—that year—with everything falling down around me, I knew I couldn’t leave. I knew when I left, things would never be the same again. (In a way, that ended up still being true, but that’s another story for another time.) I prayed. I prayed that there could be some compromise. That Val would come here or she’d be okay with me leaving. I prayed that my friendships and life wouldn’t collapse around me. The next day Val called and gave me the news; the nightmare was over; she and her family were moving back to Texas.

The second was when I had finally surrounded myself in a new group of friends, and was starting to realize a little bit about the person that I was. I realized, in a vague, indefinable kind of way, that I really, really wanted a boyfriend. I didn’t pray for that. I prayed that I could find someone to love. Someone that would know me and love me. I swore as I prayed, that, this time, I was ready. Chris and I got together shortly thereafter.

I guess that, to some of you, none if this is terribly relevant, but I had to get it out…if—for no other reason—just to explain that I take myself away from even God when I get like this. And, just like I realize that my absence does not go unnoticed in Faith, I realize my absence does not go unnoticed in Friendship.

I have been keeping myself away from all of you. I’ve really felt like, if I can’t be happy, healthy me, than I should not burden you with the sight of my pain.

And, just like you always do, you laugh at me like I’m being absurd and wrap me in your compassion and care.

I didn’t get most of what I wanted to get done, done this past long weekend. I didn’t finish my edits, I didn’t apply to classes. I slept and read a lot. Spent a lot of time with my Father. Spoke words of congratulations to my Mother (Mom passed her exam y’all, she’s an official professional masseuse!)

Yet, somewhere…in the midst of everything, I clawed my way out of the black hole I’ve been languishing in. I didn’t just see the light at the end of the tunnel, I was moving towards it.

One person after another came to me in thought, prayer, or presence…reminding me of all that I do have. Soothing the ache of false loneliness, while reminding me how lucky I truly am that all these amazing people find some reason to put up with me and my drama.

I think I came completely out of it yesterday, when I came home and found a hand-addressed envelope hiding under a bill on my stairs. Lauren sent me a card. Nothing crazy or over the top. Just this really special note that was so completely written in “Lauren speak” that I heard her voice in my head while I read it. She has an uncanny gift for making me feel like I might actually be worth something, and I am so very grateful to her for that.

Probably as a result, work was easier today. I was formally told that I would be getting help in Customer Service, something that I’ve desperately needed ever since we fired the Russian. (God, has it been almost six months now?!?) I donno that it will fix all the wrongs, but it’s a start. I’m still undecided on my actions in that department.

So, here I am, at the end of this “different” blog. I don’t know that I’ve correctly articulated all it was that I wanted to say…but I’ve tried my best. I love you guys. You’re my friends, my family, and the very fabric that holds my wreaked mind together.

Because, now that I’m out of that place, I see everything with a little bit more perspective. And you know what I realized? The light that I always saw at the end of the tunnel? That light that I knew would be there, waiting for me when I came back?

That light was you.

Quote of the Moment: “I shine, just to make others feel better. It's part of my job description, while here on earth.”
Soundtrack of the Moment: Kelly Clarkson, “Yeah”
TV/Movie Quote: The Rock: “Your best?! Losers always wine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen!”

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Passersby. Like Attorneys General. Yeah, I know it's weird. But it's one of the things I learned in college. :-)