Everything is Supposed to be Hard

I don’t want to write because people always complain about what I say. If I was talking to a friend and they told me this, I would say “no shit, how boring would your writing be if it didn’t piss anyone off?” But it’s difficult because this blog is primarily about trying. We are trying to think critically about the world we live in. We are trying to understand heartbreak and feeling like a dumbass in an adult world and whether the things we think are important actually are important .  We’re not getting an A for effort. It’s difficult to want something so badly and keep a static level of tenacity at getting it when it doesn’t get any closer.

I’m trying to take a relationship vacation from men. As in, like, I just don’t want to see any of them. I am trying to figure out how I am going to live a highly functional life as a person with anxiety and in order to do that I can’t be a babysitter right now. For the past few years I’ve been like, I guess, the surrogate life live-r of all my married friends because the most noticeable part of this change is how often they ask me for new dating stories and I’m like nope, sorry, not doing that anymore. It really rains on their parade, but I’m not a clown. Those are people you pay to entertain you.

I have a lot of close relationships with my girlfriends and I worry almost constantly about how they are going to change. They will get married and then their husband will become their person, not me. They’ll have kids and we won’t have slumber parties anymore. They’ll have a conversation with me about how they are too old to dance on tables. It’s hard to love because when you think about how happy someone or something makes you, you have to acknowledge that it’s going to end one day. If there’s a way to be less aware of mortality, I would like to hear some tips please.

When I am either excited or nervous I tend to black out when I’m talking to people. It’s like if you’ve ever been on stage and you don’t really feel conscious in the moment you are speaking. I just get caught up when people are having fun and play into the person they expect me to be and I don’t have any recourse because it’s over before I am aware of what I’m doing. I say rude things without thinking about it because I’m uncomfortable around people I don’t know. I can’t remember people’s faces. I’m not sure how to relax and slow my time down when this happens.

I think that the things that are good for you are hard. That’s proved true with blogging, it’s not easy to write about things so personal but it’s how I think through things. The first time I ever saw a therapist, I just cried for the entire session. I couldn’t say anything. It was this awful loss of control, she could ask me anything and I couldn’t just “I don’t want to talk about it” my way out of it. One of the biggest parts of my life I have only written about once because it’s something people are really judgmental about. I can’t even imagine trying to parse out its effects on me, and how great it feels to be dealing with it. I think you’re supposed to stick yourself where you feel uncomfortable, that you learn how to swim the fastest when you jump into the deep end. I hope I’m right about it.