Take a long hard look at my face. Take away the things I can’t replace. Take my heart, go on take it away. I’ve got nothing to say.
Take away this sense of regret. Take the things I need to forget. Take the mistakes I haven’t made yet. They’re all I have left. I don’t want to be the one who lets you down. All I did was run myself around.
~Things I Never Needed by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
My dear frenemy, Anxiety, decided to surprise me with a visit these past few days. It’s been quite awhile so I should have seen it coming, but since Exhaustion has been staying with me I just didn’t expect the extra company. Not to mention, Nostalgia has been popping his head in to say “Hello” this week. All of these guests while trying to recover from my parents’ visit has left me one run-down little girl, more mentally than physically. I woke up this morning, after at least 10 hours of sleep, feeling tired and maybe even a bit under the weather. I also felt sad. But I’ve worn these sweats before and therefore decided to listen to my psychiatrist and have a ‘me’ day. He literally prescribed me to such instructions and so I might as well give it a go.
For some reason I thought that ‘me’ time would be well spent by venturing down to Michigan Avenue for some retail therapy at Victoria’s Secret and a quick stop at Forever XXI, as well as a few short stops for other errands- including a much-needed trip to the grocery store. On the bus ride down I tried tuning everyone else out; however, when Anxiety is present then it’s a typically failed task. In an attempt, I began reading Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story by Chuck Klosterman, which was suggested by magnolia. Even though she drew my attention to the last essay, acknowledging that it’s something quite suitable for my thought (and experience) on first love, I opted to start from the beginning. On the first page, I immediately read something that appealed to me:
I am not qualified to live here. I don’t know what qualifications are necessary to live in any certain place at any given time, but I know I don’t have them.
Ohio. I was qualified to live in Ohio…Living in Ohio was not outside my wheel-house. But this place they call New York…this place is more complicated. Everything is a grift, and everyone is a grifter.
Upon reading those few lines I found myself looking into a sea of people who reminded me that I was not in Ohio, anymore. When I looked up, I didn’t see one familiar face amongst the crowd. I was the outsider. The one that left people wondering, What is she doing here? Okay, I’m probably giving most of the people on the bus more credit than they deserve since most of them appeared to be more concerned with spending their husbands’ and/or fathers’ money in the high-end stores on Michigan Ave. Instead I was the one thing, What am I doing here?
When my parents were in town I found myself loving the city. I was down on Michigan Avenue, surrounded by two people I love the most, feeling content with where I was. I may have even felt like I fit in…kinda, sorta. And now, like always, the bliss has left my soul. exhaustion, are you still here? Is this why I’m feeling this way?
For the past few weeks I’ve been running on hope. Hope for a better tomorrow. Hope that my wish was about to come true. (It has yet to happen. I’m losing hope.) Last night I had a dream about that wish and the message was …(She) is very impressed with you and wants to talk with you. (She’ll) be in touch with you soon. Upon waking, Hope told me to believe. That the dream was a sign of the wish coming true in time.
But my unwanted guest, Anxiety, always seems to trump Hope. Anxiety never, ever gives me Hope’s messages nor tells me when Hope stops over when I’m in the shower. And Anxiety constantly tells me that I’m better off without Hope so it’s better to forget Hope altogether. Pretend like Hope never existed. See Anxiety is the ex-boyfriend that always comes even when I realize that he’s not good enough for me. I know the Anxiety holds me back, but for some reason I tend to give in and let him back into my life. Anxiety tends to forbid me from meeting new suitors like Happiness, Love, and, most importantly, Confidence. You know what, that’s a lie. Anxiety let me once…but I somehow I found myself back in his arms- never allowing myself a fair shot with any of the others.
The sadness rushing over me is ironic because Nostaglia’s visit these past few weeks has also helped me reconnect with Forgiveness. Replacing regret & remorse with acceptance and second changes typically , but Anxiety seems to be in its fighting shape this time.
So where do I fit in with all of my guests? Are there too many of them to even know where to begin? It seems that way. But from past hostessing jobs, I’ve come to learn that Anxiety always leaves- sometimes without any warning. So here’s to hoping that a better tomorrow is to come tomorrow. Afterall the sooner, the better.