You're Your Problem, Annie

Today is a better day. Wednesday, not so much. I'm relearning who my friends are and redrawing the lines. I'm moving tiny steps forward, toward true independence, and as scary as that is, I'm warming up to the idea.

People walk this planet talking about how they did this, how they paid for that, how they've gotten through everything on their own. But on this planet, no one is ever completely alone. No one ever does anything completely independently. Maybe you feel like you're alone at the time, but I think a wise person takes a moment to take stock of the people that are there. I know I've been going through a pretty serious depression, and for the most of it I have felt 100% by myself. But that isn't true, and deep down inside somewhere I know it isn't true, and I have tried to remember that. But it's so much easier to just throw a pity party and forget that anybody is around. It's so much easier to feel sorry for yourself. And, frankly, I'm ashamed that I ever have.

I hate it when people try to make me feel bad for them, or try to lead me into complimenting them, or try to sit next to me and tell me there is no one, no where, no body at anytime ever. It drives me crazy and I usually end up walking away from those people. For the most part, there is somebody in their corner. Somebody helping them out or standing in wait to be a shoulder to cry on. Either that person is completely blind because they can't see this somebody, or they are refusing to acknowledge them, or they are taking them for granted. I have never wanted to be this person, but as a human, I am just as guilty of these thoughts and actions as the next person. Of course I am. I think it's important, though, to pay attention to what you're saying and how you're acting, and maybe you can correct it or see something a different way or just do better. I don't know.

Wednesday was hard, because our instructor was in the lab with my group and, though I say this fully appreciating it and understanding her reasoning, she is kind of super critical of our skills. It just felt like blow after blow, and I had a bad day. The thing that really got me Wednesday, though, wasn't my instructor correcting my skills every step I took. It was that I tried to reach out to a couple of girls in the class, tried to tell them what I was feeling and where it was taking me mentally, and it was like speaking to strangers. They had no concern whatsoever. And it got me thinking that no one had concern. That there was no one I could turn to for counseling. And, actually, that's kind of true.

Yes, I have a couple of friends and a mother I can talk to. And, of course I do. But even the best they can do is offer apologies, maybe a hug. When it comes to feeling like you are drowning...it's kind of like you actually are drowning. Sure, if you were smart and went to a pool or a beach with a lifeguard, someone is going to try to save you, but really it's on you to not panic. To keep a calm head and to remember to kick. And it's hard. And it's exhausting. And you wish someone could come up from under and do it for you. But there isn't anyone, because you're the one sinking, and nobody else's legs can swim for you. And then you cry. Okay, I cry, because apparently that is what I do when I am overwhelmed. It's super cute.

Anyway, Wednesday I really needed somebody. And, since there wasn't anyone available, I did it for myself the best I could. I mean, I can't really give myself a hug, but I can make myself a hot chocolate and curl up with a good book or some mindless tv or whatever. So, I did that, and I tried to make it up to myself for all those times I've thrown little pity parties and tried to get "friends" to throw them for me.

Yesterday I went to my mom's and did a little homework and watched a lot of tv. I just hung out and cuddled the dog and didn't think about anything else.

Today I feel better. And today I am looking back at these past few weeks and I am taking stock of the people that actually did something to make me better and the people that were like strangers. They are strangers, really, and don't need to be pulled into my deeply personal problems, even if they are the only people surrounding me. They don't need to be a part of this.

And, sure, you're going to tell me that I shouldn't push them away because of their lack of ability to do anything comforting or kind or worthwhile through this whole experience, because then they will never become good, true friends who can do those things when the time is right. Ah, but I've got you there, because the more I think about it, the more I don't care. I'm the bitch in the reality television show, I'm the one gunning and only out for myself, "I'm not here to make friends". The definition of friendship that is being hurled at me is one of opening up and forming bonds based on shared experiences. I am redefining friendship for myself, as it suits my needs. Because, the thing is, I can open up to the best of them, but if they don't take the bait and reel in the lure, those bonds aren't ever going to be formed. And, these people, these people that I am all sad and lonely over, they aren't even flinching as the bait passes by. Because they DON'T actually care. They're gunners too.

My new best friend is me. And when I can finally do those things for myself without begging everyone I know for pity, I will be the best kind of independent. The kind that can chose her own friends. The kind that can pick which people are worthy of her time. The kind that can take it when they decide they don't want her time.

And me? I'm pretty sensitive. So, it's going to take a while and I'm going to have to start harvesting thicker skins. But, I'll get there. And I'll be the better person for it.

So, now I am on my own. I am becoming that adult I wanted to be when I was a kid, but as I grew was too afraid to completely become. And, once I'm there I'm going to kick ass, and you're going to wish you were a part of it, that you could take some credit for it...but you can't.

You may reap the benefits of my independence--I may one day be your doctor, or that friend you didn't think you had that brings you a coffee or offers a shoulder--but you don't get to take credit. I get to take credit. Because I did it on my own, with a little help from the friends I got to pick out just for me, the ones that I am worthy of too.

Okay, now I have to learn about lap hernias and find a second job...still.

(I did have an interview on Wednesday for Ann Taylor. Oh my gods, the woman who did the interview has zero social skills. Like, worse than me. I mean, at least I have excellent interview etiquette--I have to have SOMETHING going for me in the social sphere. Damn--it was awful. Looking still, because I don't know if I could work for her, even three mornings a week. :/ )

Also, I love Coldplay. Listen to more Coldplay. It'll make things better.

But You're Also Your Solution