Yes, you read that correctly. I am envious of the happiness of others.
I didn't realize it for a while. I have been sad, angry, depressed, et cetera since the break up (of course) and in moments of relief, numb.
So I was listening to this audiobook "Let's Pretend This Never Happened (A Mostly True Memoir)" by Jenny Lawson. I was just getting home as she was describing the chapter in which she gets engaged in the most hilarious way possible only to break down in hysterics as I tried to park my car. I was trying to laugh at her outrageous narrative while simultaneously crying--mourning my own loss of my love, my life as I knew it, and a good chunk of my happiness (see also: my security, stability, home).
It then occurred to me how often I have been glossing over my friends' posts about recent engagements, weddings, vacations, honeymoons, home improvements, and so forth. I give them cursory glances and quickly scroll past. For everyone (sorry guys). I had to file away recent wedding invites, thank you cards, and photos, not really realizing why I felt the sudden need to "put them away."
It's because looking at your happiness makes me sad. It makes me miss what I had, (what I thought I had?) and what I thought my life was heading towards.
We were engaged. Vaguely making wedding plans. It was going to be beautiful, unconventional, and fun. We had so many projects going to finish our home to make it really ours. Plans for the future where we would live in a house, or at least a town home or condo where no one would be living above us to wake us up at odd hours of the night. Or maybe our slightly sacrilegious imaginings of purchasing a beautiful ex-church and converting it into a unique home (in which we would rent portions out for gay weddings--this was pre-the recent Supreme Court ruling).
Instead I find my life suddenly and harshly devoid of all of these things. My life had become so entangled with his and our lives so centered around our relationship that I ended up feeling exceedingly lost (and maybe a little broken). I had poured so much of myself into our relationship, especially after our last rough patch (because we were going to make it work! And I had no doubt so I jumped right in with both feet) that I am having trouble finding myself again.
So the happiness (especially in relationships) of my friends serves as a near constant reminder of everything that I have lost. Which right now, seems like an overwhelming amount.
I apologize to my friends. I am happy for you, and I would never wish for any one of you to be unhappy or to give up your happiness. But I envy you right now. I know at the very least, this makes me mean, selfish, and uncaring. I am very sorry for that and I hope no one has felt that I don't care about you or that I am not happy for you. But right now, I can't look at the pictures of the beautiful weddings and smiling faces on the beach. I can't look at the wedding-planning posts and pictures of house renovations and romantic dates nights. I promise that I will be better in the future and I offer the warmest of congratulations. But right now, I have to pass over them. Later on I will go back and look and rejoice for you. But right now I have to keep my rejoicing quiet and brief. I won't mourn forever.
I hope you will bear with me and forgive me. Realizing this made me feel like a horrible person. At the same time, I just need time to mourn. Just know that I love you all and I am happy for you, even if I can't express it in so many words.
Showing posts with label being a grown up. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being a grown up. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
A New Chapter
We have come to a sad ending in the last chapter of my life. My boyfriend (and fiancé) of 9 years and I broke up. It has been very hard and I am heartbroken, but comforted by our amicable split which allows us to still help and support each other, my family (who really stepped up to the plate for me) and my friends who have always been amazing at cheering me up.
It's been occasionally stressful because our lives are so very intertwined (which was so easy to do) that it is hard to separate them again. We own so much jointly, we have joint money, joint bills, joint possessions.
Again, I felt overwhelmed by the idea of packing and moving again because I am so very sick of doing that and I thought that this would be my home for many years to come. Plus, this was my home and I put a lot of work and thought into it, too. It's hard to lose that. (Conversely, I think it would be hard for me to stay here because everything reminds me of Isaac).
I am getting better. I know that, one day, I will be OK. That helps. It feels like way too much right now, and I am still so emotional, hurt, angry, stressed, et cetera that sometimes it is hard to remember that. But my appetite has already started to come back a little and I am sleeping a bit better. My crying sessions (of which there are many, about things as trivial as towels to things as big as finding a new place to live) are becoming fewer and farther between (generally). That's also a relief. Even after the first day, I was tired of crying and hurting. It is nice to have a little relief from that, even if I am still a little bit of a mess. But I will survive this and one day I will be OK again.
It's been occasionally stressful because our lives are so very intertwined (which was so easy to do) that it is hard to separate them again. We own so much jointly, we have joint money, joint bills, joint possessions.
Again, I felt overwhelmed by the idea of packing and moving again because I am so very sick of doing that and I thought that this would be my home for many years to come. Plus, this was my home and I put a lot of work and thought into it, too. It's hard to lose that. (Conversely, I think it would be hard for me to stay here because everything reminds me of Isaac).
I am getting better. I know that, one day, I will be OK. That helps. It feels like way too much right now, and I am still so emotional, hurt, angry, stressed, et cetera that sometimes it is hard to remember that. But my appetite has already started to come back a little and I am sleeping a bit better. My crying sessions (of which there are many, about things as trivial as towels to things as big as finding a new place to live) are becoming fewer and farther between (generally). That's also a relief. Even after the first day, I was tired of crying and hurting. It is nice to have a little relief from that, even if I am still a little bit of a mess. But I will survive this and one day I will be OK again.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Growing Up
Growing up can be difficult in so many different ways. I feel like I am constantly dealing with and adjusting to the idea of growing up and being a grown up.
If it isn't about money, it is about jobs, if not that, then relationships, or chores, or learning more and understanding better, or letting things go, or watching my health.
When I graduated with my Bachelors, I got pretty depressed after a couple months. First of all, I had no luck with getting a job in my area. Also, I didn't know how to not be in school. It was a pretty scary adjustment for me.
After the years passed and now that I have finished my Masters, I feel like I understand better and have a little more preparation, but I still feel like I don't always want to be a responsible grown up. Sometimes I don't want to work and do chores and pay bills--OK, no one really WANTS to do these things, but you know what I mean, right?
What triggered this post? Well, in my process of trying to grow up, I really need to clean, consolidate, and reduce the amount of stuff (dare I say "crap") that I have. I was trying to organize and clean the spare room (and I always start one place and end up in a hundred other places) and ended up going through boxes in my closet. I didn't even know what was in most of them.
During my excavation, I found an old shoe box which I had used to hide away some of the most negative and hurtful things from several years ago. This was around the time of my parents' divorce and the horrible falling out with my sister. It was a long time ago and things are so much better now, so I am not going to dig up too many details.
I put away letters, pictures, cards, notes, whatever hurt or made me angry into this little box. I don't even remember who suggested that I do this. I was in such a bad place then.
But it had been years since I have seen or even thought about this box. So I opened it up and opened everything inside up. Some things were pictures and cards that my sister had drawn or made for me, as well as some pictures my family. I used to keep all of these out in my room and then my dorm rooms as mementos and happy reminders. When it got to the point that it hurt to look at these things, I wasn't willing to throw them out (because I am insanely sentimental--to the point of it being a fault, actually, it can be almost debilitating). So when someone suggested a box, I put it all in there. Separated. Then maybe I could separate myself from what was hurting.
I pulled out several pieces of art Kema had made for me. She's quite the artist, you know. And I'm glad that it doesn't hurt to look at them (though it does make me sad--our relationship has never been the same). I found a rough draft of a letter I had written her for her Psychology class. Yes, I kept a copy. It was kind of funny, reading back through that. I know I was trying to show her that I cared and loved her (and I sure hope some of that came through), but man, I was pretty naive, I think. And probably a bit selfish. And I also realize that much of my relationship with my sister seems to center around a weird selfishness that I imposed upon her. And maybe a little jealousy. Despite feeling like I was a horrible sister, at least some of the time, it's funny to look back and see where I tried to show that I loved her. That one made me laugh a little.
I also found a series of notes that I had written my (often very angry) feelings out on and stuck in the box. I had to get the feelings out and keep them separate, you see. Some were about Kema, some were about my mom and the divorce.
I read through the ones about Kema and thought, "I am definitely over this," and I threw them away. It was time. Past time, I think! That was a relief.
The ones about my mom and the divorce actually still hurt though. I think that I have come to pretty good terms with the way my family life has turned out. It was hard and it took a long time, but things are pretty good. But I cried when I read one because I still have dreams that my family is together or just starting to fall apart. It's always my family, my parents, but scenery and scenarios vary. I didn't really realize how often I still dreamed about these things until I read the letter. Some of the hurt is still so close to the surface. And I was actually pretty shocked. Even though I am OK with things, I think I had a really hard time loosing my family and my home life like that and, apparently, it still gets to me.
I had also forgotten what a complete mess I was. Good grief. I am glad that is over. At the same time, though, I can see how much hurt and anger I had. I guess that would make anyone a little crazy.
I'm older now, and hopefully wiser. I was sad, yes, but I think I can look at things a little differently now. At least while I am awake, since I can do little about my dreams.
Growing up is crazy.
If it isn't about money, it is about jobs, if not that, then relationships, or chores, or learning more and understanding better, or letting things go, or watching my health.
When I graduated with my Bachelors, I got pretty depressed after a couple months. First of all, I had no luck with getting a job in my area. Also, I didn't know how to not be in school. It was a pretty scary adjustment for me.
After the years passed and now that I have finished my Masters, I feel like I understand better and have a little more preparation, but I still feel like I don't always want to be a responsible grown up. Sometimes I don't want to work and do chores and pay bills--OK, no one really WANTS to do these things, but you know what I mean, right?
What triggered this post? Well, in my process of trying to grow up, I really need to clean, consolidate, and reduce the amount of stuff (dare I say "crap") that I have. I was trying to organize and clean the spare room (and I always start one place and end up in a hundred other places) and ended up going through boxes in my closet. I didn't even know what was in most of them.
During my excavation, I found an old shoe box which I had used to hide away some of the most negative and hurtful things from several years ago. This was around the time of my parents' divorce and the horrible falling out with my sister. It was a long time ago and things are so much better now, so I am not going to dig up too many details.
I put away letters, pictures, cards, notes, whatever hurt or made me angry into this little box. I don't even remember who suggested that I do this. I was in such a bad place then.
But it had been years since I have seen or even thought about this box. So I opened it up and opened everything inside up. Some things were pictures and cards that my sister had drawn or made for me, as well as some pictures my family. I used to keep all of these out in my room and then my dorm rooms as mementos and happy reminders. When it got to the point that it hurt to look at these things, I wasn't willing to throw them out (because I am insanely sentimental--to the point of it being a fault, actually, it can be almost debilitating). So when someone suggested a box, I put it all in there. Separated. Then maybe I could separate myself from what was hurting.
I pulled out several pieces of art Kema had made for me. She's quite the artist, you know. And I'm glad that it doesn't hurt to look at them (though it does make me sad--our relationship has never been the same). I found a rough draft of a letter I had written her for her Psychology class. Yes, I kept a copy. It was kind of funny, reading back through that. I know I was trying to show her that I cared and loved her (and I sure hope some of that came through), but man, I was pretty naive, I think. And probably a bit selfish. And I also realize that much of my relationship with my sister seems to center around a weird selfishness that I imposed upon her. And maybe a little jealousy. Despite feeling like I was a horrible sister, at least some of the time, it's funny to look back and see where I tried to show that I loved her. That one made me laugh a little.
I also found a series of notes that I had written my (often very angry) feelings out on and stuck in the box. I had to get the feelings out and keep them separate, you see. Some were about Kema, some were about my mom and the divorce.
I read through the ones about Kema and thought, "I am definitely over this," and I threw them away. It was time. Past time, I think! That was a relief.
The ones about my mom and the divorce actually still hurt though. I think that I have come to pretty good terms with the way my family life has turned out. It was hard and it took a long time, but things are pretty good. But I cried when I read one because I still have dreams that my family is together or just starting to fall apart. It's always my family, my parents, but scenery and scenarios vary. I didn't really realize how often I still dreamed about these things until I read the letter. Some of the hurt is still so close to the surface. And I was actually pretty shocked. Even though I am OK with things, I think I had a really hard time loosing my family and my home life like that and, apparently, it still gets to me.
I had also forgotten what a complete mess I was. Good grief. I am glad that is over. At the same time, though, I can see how much hurt and anger I had. I guess that would make anyone a little crazy.
I'm older now, and hopefully wiser. I was sad, yes, but I think I can look at things a little differently now. At least while I am awake, since I can do little about my dreams.
Growing up is crazy.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Returning to College as an Adult
As some of you probably know, I recently returned to college to get my Masters. I entered an intensive, one-year long program for Microbiology and Immunology.
The problem for me was leaving my home, friends, family, and many of my work hours behind to move up to Fort Collins. Not only that, I am living in the dorms with all of the 18-year-olds. I guess a couple of them are 19. Even my RA is just barely 20.
At 25 going on 26, I felt that 18 wasn't that long ago. And luckily for me, I look young enough to blend in with my floor mates. But 18 has never looked so young before.
Several of my floor mates are directionless, have never been away from home, and have never had to be an adult before now. When I went through all of that for the first time, it was overwhelming and often confusing. While 18 is not so far behind me, I realize just how much I have changed since I first went off to college.
When I went off to college at 18:
The problem for me was leaving my home, friends, family, and many of my work hours behind to move up to Fort Collins. Not only that, I am living in the dorms with all of the 18-year-olds. I guess a couple of them are 19. Even my RA is just barely 20.
At 25 going on 26, I felt that 18 wasn't that long ago. And luckily for me, I look young enough to blend in with my floor mates. But 18 has never looked so young before.
Several of my floor mates are directionless, have never been away from home, and have never had to be an adult before now. When I went through all of that for the first time, it was overwhelming and often confusing. While 18 is not so far behind me, I realize just how much I have changed since I first went off to college.
When I went off to college at 18:
- My parents were still together.
- My relationship with Isaac was still new--we were only a few months in. I still never thought I could make it in a relationship. (But more than seven years later, here we are.)
- I wanted to go into forensic science and was forced to choose between a Biology or Chemistry focus and went with Biology. (Now I have a degree in Biology with a Biotech focus and a Chemistry minor).
- I NEVER wanted to teach. (Now I tutor and am considering going into teaching.)
- I was still living at home with my parents when I wasn't in the dorms.
- I thought I could work at Peaberry Coffee all the way though college.
- I was still in Westernaires. That's weird to think about.
- I thought I would stay at the University of Northern Colorado for the whole four years to get my degree (I transferred twice and it took me five and a half years to get my undergrad...).
- I still had a great group of friends. Some have drifted away, but I am proud to say that I still have many, many good friends and have been able to make more during college.
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