I look around me and see my girlfriend plugged in to her favorite Netflix show, my pre-teen plugged in to her favorite computer game and me, seeking out my BlogSpot to desperately journal something profound for my own sanity. It's been a long, crazy two-year pause but I'm back. At least for this moment. It feels great. I've missed writing.
Funny how I loathe technology and how it seems to create distance in my most beloved relationships, yet here I am, doing exactly what I can't stand...turning to an electronic platform for escape and what I hope will be some kind of mental relief. Yay for my hypocrisy. Good to know some things never change. Irony here...this technology and my not knowing what's best for me are a few of my saviors.
Wait...I must confess that any distance in my relations with my favorite peeps has absolutely nothing to do with technology. I have a whole heck of a lot to do with that personally, with or without help from the latest techno-gadgets.
I really don't know where to begin. There's so much that has happened in my last two years. So much wreckage that I've created. I don't even have the energy to play catch up. I simply want to find relief. My own solace, just as my beloveds are doing with their hand-held stress relievers.
I want to scream. I want to yell. I want to force interaction. Force connection. Force something, anything other than the overbearing silence of headphones and keyboard clicks. Yet, I restrain myself and keep typing. Me forcing anything is not quite the best thing right now. I've done enough forcing. I'm exhausted. Me laying low and letting others have their own time is more like it. This knowledge is coming on the heels of another ruined friendship.
Ohhhh, so now we're getting to the meat and potatoes of what's really bothering me. Keep reading...
At my age, losing people in my life is not what one would call smart. Or optimal. Or even beneficial. I certainly don't need to find myself once again all alone and left at the mercy of my own personal "Wormwood" inside my head.
Though I've never really given two shits on how to properly win friends and influence people, I can see where it would be wise to be a team player. Pissing people off and being reminded of all the awful truths about myself is simply no fun. No bueno, to say the least.
Time for a neck check. Lift the ole' cranium and stretch. My girls are still plugged in. An occasional giggle from the little one and a gorgeous smile and nose wrinkle from my lover. They are content. Happy. Peaceful. Basically, they are A-OK without my help. WOW...it really is that simply, isn't it. I myself am wearing a smile on my face. And it's not even forced.
Letting go feels good. Damn good. Be it a friendship, an ideal, a dream...whatever is not supposed to remain in my path must be given up. Clutching to, clinging to, holding on to only allows oneself to be dragged. Most of my experience with this comes only after being drug for miles, torn up and bleeding. Not this time.
"You are being restored", my lover reminds me often. If she knew what was best, she would have high tailed it out of my drama riddled life months ago. Yet here she is, sitting near me, still believing in us while the world outside our door rages in it's own madness.
Restoration is not pretty. I feel like a piece of stone being sanded down to raw nerves. No longer do I have the alcohol or drugs to numb my existence. I'm standing here, weak, flawed, naked. The word YUCK works well here. Everything that I've depended on, every emotion, every ill-tempered reaction, every anxiety-ridden feeling greets me full force and without restraint. I am at the mercy of my consequences. My adolescent, insecure and ego-driven outlook has brought me yet again to a place of reflection. My Wormwood has me almost exactly where he wants me.
I feel as if I'm getting a little scattered in my flow here.
I love reading over what I've vomited up so far. I like my writing style. Me at my best, my most authentic. Safe. Not so bad after all.
Back to letting go. Not an easy concept for me. My ego loves to control. Be the sole cause of someone's happiness or even for their sadness for that matter. As long as I'm involved somehow, I can feel important. Kind of sick, right? Yep. It's no way to live.
So how is it that I've come this far doing exactly that? Grace and Mercy. God really knows what He's doing after all. He's placed in my life people that are here to show me that I'm not supposed to be friends with everyone. I'm not supposed to be a part of every clique. I'm not supposed to be liked by everyone. I hear my Wormwood protesting. Let him rant. I'm on a roll here.
Life is not about what I can get out of it. It's certainly not in existence to make me feel important or needed. I think it's really about helping others. For getting outside of myself and seeing how I can be of service to another. I've definitely messed up along the way thinking that life is here for my benefit.
So here I am, down to two people that are still wanting to be in my life. That's a whole lot more than most people have. I better sit up and take notice.
The consequences of my recent actions aren't pretty to deal with, but I'm not letting what is lost go in vain. I will turn this into a lesson that will sustain what is left for me to hold on to. Letting go of what isn't absolutely crucial is necessary to wrap myself around what's really important.
I lift my head and look around the room again. I see now what I need to focus on. I have my work cut out for me. But I also have Hope. And for this moment, it's enough.