“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow; but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.”
I had an interesting weekend. One that I could feel to the tips of my fingers and toes, and it forced me to confront my shortcomings in such a way that left me feeling…old.
I suppose that I like to think I am blameless most of the time, perfect in such a way that other people need to keep up. It’s never me. I can’t be the one at fault here. It’s not me, it’s you.
At twenty six though, I should be able to confront myself and say “Self, grow the fuck up.”
I am extremely impatient sometimes. I work at such a fast pace, my mind going five million miles per hour, the questions and concerns pouring out with such force that (unless you know me well), you’re bound to get irritated. I have to be “in the know”, I have this need to know what’s happening before it happens, planning it all out in my head and looking for every angle in which something can go wrong (or right).
And then I analyze those angles, every damn one, until I am satisfied.
It’s exhausting for people who are close to me, because sometimes I can’t relax, sometimes I have to turn in a thousand circles until I can sit comfortably. It’s ingrained in me to be restless, full of things to do and say and be, and I can’t help myself sometimes.
To save myself the pity party here, let me acknowledge that I know I have good qualities. I wouldn’t be successful at my job if I wasn’t on top of things, I wouldn’t be an “adult” if I forgot to pay my bills or file my taxes. If I relaxed too often, my house wouldn’t be clean and the litter box would never get scooped. If I didn’t think about the angles of situations, I wouldn’t feel like I made good choices and I wouldn’t feel comfortable. What I am acknowledging are my shortcomings, not my faults.
I could be calmer, less anxious, more easygoing in some situations. I could remind myself that “relaxing” and “lazy” are not the same things, and that I should stop holding people to such a high standard. I fear that this may be a constant battle, and so I need to find a happy medium.
At the same time, I am going to embrace that part of me who is free and solo. The dreaming side of myself who’s only wishes and wants are to be happy and safe. I am so “that” girl, but I often lose it to my “practical” self.
Hmm, this entry has taken way too long to write. All day in fact, so I’m done:)
(Portlandia is so wonderful)