I don't know if I am the only one who remembers this, but when I was in junior high and learning fractions (barf) they gave us these bricks of cubes to play with. They were plastic and yellow and you could connect and disconnect them to represent all the stupid fractions that the teacher would throw at you. They were the 1998 equivalent of a fidget spinner. Lately I've begun to think of all these things that are nagging at me and trying to break them down, just like those cubes, until I have just one little block left, easy enough to lose under a table. Making me see things for what they really are doesn't necessarily make the problem go away, but at least I don't freak out needlessly. I would have never been capable of making this kind of logic tree when I was younger.
Last night I told Sid that it feels like someone's ripping out all the wiring that makes me me and replacing it with faulty electricity, and none of it feels right. My internal makeup dictates that I am a social person. I've been a part of a group since I was in high school-first the Table, then Tania and Brad, then the drinking group, then Raceland, and then of course, the HCC. I have literally been a part of five (if you want to be technical about it) weather systems in my life, and now I am a solitary hurricane and I don't know where to spin.
It's not as if I don't have things to fill my time. I'm not so down to the point where I can't enjoy my hobbies. The only reason I can't do my photo project is that I have the attention span of a fruit fly. I still like to read. I'm slowly easing back into writing, although the characters and I are kind of awkward.
I know what you are thinking. "Rae, quit bitching and do something about it." Do what, exactly?
All of us have the same problem, though some of us are better at dealing with it. Everyone these days gets some sort of anxiety when it comes to hanging out with friends. As much as we like them, we'd much rather stay home and Netflix. It's social media's fault-why leave the house when you have the world in your hands?
I know it's also our age. When I was sixteen I didn't think about the fact that one day I'd be 31. I still thought I wanted kids, to get married. Thirty one was as unimaginable as me believing I'd be a Martian one day. And of course, when you're that young, the present seems eternal.
We are evolving into different people with different likes. We're also beginning our own families. This is the natural course of things, I know. But I still have a right to be sad about it, and it will take me awhile to get used to the silence. Chat died a long time ago and I finally reconciled that with myself-I can't fix that and it wouldn't work out any way.
I'm not going to get married or have a crotch dropping just to fill my life with some meaning. So that means I need to find a hobby big enough to where this won't bug me as much. Or as Sid says, just find new friends.
Finding new friends at 31. Pfff.
Sid suggests that my depression is rewiring me to be introverted. He's got a point, but I think it's also the circumstances of the world we live in. He also warned me that a week in Tennessee won't fix it, but at least I can put work and other things aside and refresh my eyes. One of my rules is to always have something to look forward to. Tennessee is that thing right now. I'm not even trying to think of what comes after Tennessee.
I have been depressed many times in my life, and I usually get over it. Finding things to occupy myself is the challenge. When I am around people, I enjoy it for awhile, and then the ceiling seems to start pressing in on me, and I just need quiet. When I am alone at home, I find myself wishing for a get together. I'm some sort of retarded bird who lives in a cage with an open door, and I need to be free, but I miss the cage.
Get on antidepressants, he says. Maybe that might work. I don't know.
All I have to remember is that life is short but it is wide, and I will find a balance or die trying
It is Thursday and my early day and all I want to do is get off from work, get in my car, drive the hour and a half to Biloxi, and sit on the beach. Of course I'd sweat my balls off from the walk to the beach from my car, so it's a moot point. On the bright side, Miss Nida is buying a puppy today and I might be able to go and see it in a little while.
I need to go home, take a chip of Xanax, and do something mind numbing and time consuming, like pictures.
-Rae