i know that i am supposed to not care. but how, how do you not care?

Lexie: I know that I am supposed to toughen up. I know that I am supposed to not care.  But how, how do you not care?
Mark: It’s the hardest part of the job.  The very hardest part.

Lexie: How did you do it? How did you learn?
Mark: I’m still learning.

Stranded in my apartment without Internet these last few days, I’ve been reliant on my Grey’s Anatomy DVD collection to provide me with McDreamy therapy since I couldn’t blog out the uneasiness of these last few days.  Last night, during a Season 6 episode, I found Lexie saying the words that I’ve been trying to spit out: How do you not care?

Chicago has made me a lot colder and much more harder than I ever thought I could be.  Trust me, it’s a must to survive in this city.  For the past few months I’ve found myself silently mumbling under my breath, I don’t care.  I really don’t care.  I don’t care when 15 people, including men my age, push in front of me to get on the train.  I don’t care if my outfit isn’t as trendy, short or tight as the other girls in the bar.  And I really don’t care if I make a fool out of myself to get a photo with my friends and a celebrity who I admire.

You can tell yourself I don’t care, but the truth is sometimes you do care.  When it comes to some things, some people, you fight yourself to prove that you don’t care.  But as you feared, you do care and you’re emotionally-drained self is proof.  You have always cared, and no matter how much you try to fight it, you will always care.

I sit here, with frost-bitten fingers and goosebumps-covered limbs, staring out the huge front window at my Starbucks onto the snow-piled street.  A surplus of thoughts & emotions are preventing me from working successfully today, well, that and a very slow Internet connection.  Too many thoughts are distracting me.  Too many feelings are numbing my body.  All of these proving (to myself) that I am guilty of caring- perhaps, caring too much.   

I guess it was Monday when the unexpected happened.  Was it really Monday?  Must have been since it’s called Moan-day for goodness sake; however, this week I’d like to change it to Moan-OMG-day…or something like that.  So on Moan-OMG-day I stumbled upon something that made me say, “I don’t care” a thousand times in an attempt to fight all of the I (still) care too much– feelings.

So I care, and because I care, I’m finding myself emotionally-drained right now.  I would love to write everything down that I’m feeling right not, though, to be honest, I’m still not sure what I’m feeling.  The only feeling that I do know is that I care.  A  lot.  And that it’s okay to care.  After all this was something (someone) that was (is) really important to me so how can I not care?  Did I expect myself to stop caring?  If there’s one thing people know about me it’s that I care.  I care too much about many things, and this is just one of them.  So here I am, with even more frozen fingers than earlier, admitting that I’m okay with caring about this, about him.  I’m just going to live with it.  And sure this unexpected occurence threw me for a loop… but what’s life without a few bumps in the road?  So another lesson learned here: Let yourself care. Always care. 

And on that note, lunch break is over.  That and I need to get away from Starbucks before the girls next to be get even more open about the ‘sex friend’ that they desire to have.  Here’s another lesson for us all: Don’t think that you’re invisible at a coffee shop.  People, many people, can hear what you’re saying.  Think before you speak.  And maybe, for some, it’s best to not speak at all.

P.S. To my friends who read this little blog of mine, I promise you I’m okay.  And I’ll feel even better tomorrow.  I’ve been through much worse and this is just a little unexpected curve in the road.  Even if you neither know nor understand where my head is right now, I know that you’re sending me your love and support.   Keep them coming because it’s still really cold over here in Chicagoland.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s