Gum in My Hair

An embarrassingly honest blog

The Flat Line November 21, 2011

Filed under: Shut Your Mouth! — dulcedementia @ 10:18 am
Tags: , , ,

This last week was a quiet one and I needed it. The week before was a blur of parties and events and friends. All great, nay, wonderful things. But by Sunday I was starting to get a little bit cranky. On Monday, when I had to get into the shower and go to another event, every movement I made was made begrudgingly. I ended up having a great time at this event and learning a whole bunch (and laying the building blocks for a horrible hangover the next day), but by the time I got home, I was ready to enter a hole and never come out.

This began three days of extreme hermitry. The only people I interacted with were clerks as I bought supplies for my voluntary confinement. And so it began.

On Wednesday, while talking to my therapist I described my time alone as being “flat” and drew an imaginary flat line with my fingers. It was neither high nor low, it just was. And for some reason, I chose to define it as a flat line, or being dead.

Beep, beep, beep, booooooooooooooooop.

I didn’t even notice my choice of words until they were pointed out to me. Funny thing is I used to crave this time alone. I used to be introverted. In fact, I described myself as an outgoing introvert. Suddenly, time spent in quiet leaves me feeling, well, feeling nothing.

Have I really spent so much time being stimulated, whether positive or negative, that I don’t know how to feel or what to feel when things are just neutral? What. The. Fuck?

I like to think of myself as a person who takes joy in the simplicity of things. And I really do. It’s the little things that make me smile and create this sort of patchwork of a fulfilled life. How then am I not able to take joy in the simplicity of just being?

This weekend, despite being busy, I felt this creeping feeling of antsiness. I sat in front of my computer on Saturday and tried to be entertained by the internet, but it was all boring to me. Last night, the same thing happened, AND I turned off three movies because they just weren’t interesting enough for me. This led to me becoming almost instantly grouchy.

I felt resentful and dangerous. Suddenly this side of me, the side of me that I have worked VERY hard to keep in a cage, started trying to break free. If this side of me was a dude, it would have an evil mustache. This is the side of me that wants to go into a cafe, order a cup of coffee and then dump it on the ground and walk out. I wanted to punch a wall or have someone punch me.

I just wanted to feel alive. And in the least healthy way possible.

I told a friend how I was feeling and they suggested that maybe I’m not challenged enough right now. Maybe they’re right. Life does feel pretty easy right now. I have a great job(s). I have amazing friends. I’m supporting myself. Where’s the fucking challenge in that?

So, now I’m on a quest to find some new challenges that will make me less… punchy. First up, it’s time to get that whole website thing up and running. Next, I dunno, something to vent all this pent up aggression. Brazilian Ju Jitsu? Capoera? Break dancing? I have no idea, but I’m open to suggestions. Anything but hockey. Hockey and I need some time apart.

In the meantime, I want to apologize if I am in anyway short or rude or aggro with you in the next few weeks. Feel free to punch me in the face if you want. Just be ready to get punched back.

And I have a mean right hook.


My Biggest Fear March 28, 2011

Filed under: Blush Face,Shut Your Mouth! — dulcedementia @ 10:02 am
Tags: ,

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Most of you know I’m pretty bad about heights (do not EVER touch me if I’m more than 3 feet off the ground; I will freak the fuck out on you) and a lot of you are amused by my irrational fear of moths and butterflies (erratic flight patterns!), but what I really want to write about today are my true fears. The fears that paralyze me and the fears that drive me. I’m feeling particularly vulnerable today, so what the hell, instead of shutting down, I’m going to open up and let myself be even more vulnerable.

There are a couple facets to one big, overarching fear that I have. This fear has permeated my life since I was a junior in high school when one parent described me to her friend’s daughter as “pretty plain looking.” These weren’t words said in malice. I heard them from a third party and I’m sure that a parent wouldn’t talk shit about an 11th grader to actually do damage. That one phrase was the seed for my biggest fear in the world: that I am utterly forgettable.

Butterflies: A study in terror.

When I left high school, I made a very conscious decision that I would NOT be that shy little girl in the corner anymore. I would be outgoing, I would be loud and I would be fun. And I went to college in Southern Indiana and I did those things. I REALLY did those things. I made sure no one would forget me, and in the process, I developed a pretty shitty GPA. That problem was rectified later on when I graduated from the School of Journalism at CU with a 3.9 (Damn you, dad, for being right when you said, “But if you would just apply yourself, Kelly…”).

As I grew up I made tons of amazing new friends and I’ve loved them all, and I would do just about anything for anyone of my friends. But still, in the back of my mind, I worry that I’m just that plain girl that’s utterly forgettable and that the people I hang around simply tolerate me because they would feel guilty telling me they’d rather be hanging out with someone a little more interesting. You know, less plain.

It permeates my relationships. When I start dating someone, I become super girlfriend. I take on all my SO’s activities. Their problems become my problems. Their loves become my loves. I ensure my place as an unforgettable girlfriend by getting the perfect birthday gifts, treating my dude to surprises all the time and, well, I dynamite in the sack, so… there’s that too. But still, there are days when I am overwhelmed with the idea that I’ll never be good enough. That, soon enough, they’ll tire of me and they’ll move on to someone else more memorable and forget about me completely (which, of course, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy).

OK, so these are the negatives of my fear. This is the side of my fear that grips me with a stranglehold when I’m alone in bed at night. There is another side of this fear that’s good though. It’s part that I kick in the nuts each week and tell, “Fuck you! I’m gonna go out into the world and I’m going to meet tons of new people and have fun new adventures each week! You aren’t going to make me lay around in bed and wallow in my own self-pity! Here, have another nut jab!”

That part of my fear drives me. It is the reason I love my life so much today. It’s the reason I go out and take risks and put myself out there for everyone to see. And I really, really love my life right now. It’s everything I wanted, but never would have dreamed I could have.

Now, if only I could just reign in that whole negative part, I would be totally set.


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