“You don’t handle change very well,” said G. I looked up, shocked by the frankness, but not stung by the truth the words carried. I had just finished part of a long rant of my frustrations and confusions to this new friend of mine. It was one of those long-winded talks where your heart starts to pour itself into listening ears and the words refuse to stop flowing out.
“It’s okay, I don’t either,” she followed up with a smile. So I breathed a sigh of relief and gave a nervous laugh.
Truth be told, I don’t handle many adverse situations well. Hooray for being human!
These are my confessions (just try to get the Usher song out of your head now, I dare you): I run from pain. I shut people out to lessen my chances of emotional suffering. I don’t like asking for help. When I am hurt by others, I tend to hold mean, nasty grudges. And no, I don’t handle change very well.
Which would probably explain why a little over a week after turning 26, moving from rural West Texas to the greater Boston area, jobless, and in the middle of a freaking scary and unsettling faith shift, I was crying in my closet on the first night in my new room.
*side note- It’s a nice closet to cry in. Plenty of space to stretch out and roll around in my misery a little bit if I so choose.
I don’t know when or why I started doing this – not crying in closets…that’s been happening since middle school, and can be cathartic in good measure – but I began to view the metaphorical glass of my life as half empty. Thoughts like…
“You’re not good enough, and no matter how hard you try, you still won’t ever be good enough.
Nothing will change, and nothing will get better.
People suck and can’t be trusted.
Don’t even think about getting your hopes up,”
…started to pervade my mind and shape my worldview. And let me tell you guys, this is a NASTY headspace to be in, because you start to hate yourself, and then it makes you hate other people and life in general and then you’re in a swirly dark vortex and not even fistfuls of dark chocolate paired with a bottle of Arbor Mist Strawberry Moscato can help you. Oh man, now I’m craving dark chocolate and Arbor Mist Strawberry Moscato.
Switching gears. It’s been several months since I wrote ^^all of that^^ and I’m now in a different place in my life, which is wonderful. Because guess what- Things did change! Things got better! Wow! I could go into my whole process and blab about that for the next 25 years, but I’ll spare you…at least in this post. *smirks* What I want to capture here is where I’ve come from and where I’m at today. Some of you who keep up with this blog/my life in general, bless your souls, know that I’ve been writing poetry again. It’s been a massive part of getting back in touch with my creative energy, and it’s also been way therapeutic and healing for my soul. Win-win situation. I’ve mostly kept those writings private, but I’m ready to share at least one poem with y’all now. Whew, palms are sweating. This is called “As Water.” I hope you like it (and if you don’t, hey, that’s cool too).
[photo cred: me // taken in Orange, CA]