Take care, friends

I am strong as a person, and I know it – I can take care of somebody else, easily.

That’s why one of the most appealing things to me in a partner is someone who will take care of me…, because I sometimes just want to take a break from taking care of everyone else – of anyone, actually – and have someone do it for me, instead of the other way around.

But I feel as though I am failing as a friend, if I ask that of a friend… it’s only acceptable, it seems, with a partner in life…, but maybe that’s just because the best kind of friends aren’t really in my everyday life right now, and so I can’t even imagine it being acceptable behavior, their taking care of me for once.

And then this reminds me of something from today.

I stopped in on an old co-worker’s class today while I was subbing, and the prayer she read to begin class was about reaching out to those who seem upset or alone, because, how does one know that that person has friends to cheer him up?… I might be the only one who’s even considered cheering the person up, it said… perhaps the person feels just as lonely as I do, and just no one has ever taken the time to see, it read…

And I cried during the prayer, because I felt like that person who feels so alone, but who no one would consider might ever feel like she’s all on her own and alone, with no one even to check on how she’s really doing, and not just how she might look from the outside…

Post-a-day 2018

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…holding out for a (anger) management position…

“The thing about giving yourself a pep talk is that secretly you know it’s all bullshit.”
That’s a quote from a Sophie Kinsella book (Remember Me?, I think).  Today has kind of been a day where I got to live it.  Though, since I already knew this, any effort to give myself a pep talk was dropped almost before I started.  It’s not that I actually think life as I know or want it is coming to an end – indeed, the good stuff has only just begun.  But knowing that has almost no effect on the feelings of total misery and hopelessness that arise when I hit places like my current one.  Sure, I accept then, thank the feelings for sharing, and then move on to what’s next, but they really do suck when they’re busy hanging around.

I have been experiencing another one of these odd feelings of waiting lately.  It is as though there is a set amount of time I must go before I find a job again, and then, after that time period, everything will fall into place perfectly, and the waiting will have been totally worth the misery.

However, when I get these feelings, I always have to take a first step, be proactive somehow, in order for things to fall into place.  As I see myself growing more angry and on-edge each day, I find it more and more difficult to do anything productive, anything that could help with that first step.  I even have some plans for that step, yet here I lie, miserable and without having taken any action for them today.  I guess I would have to give up the idea that this isn’t where I want to be right now, living at my mom’s.  I moved out years ago, intentionally, and had no intentions of returning for residency.  Not for desire to be independent or anything of the sort, but because I don’t want to live the lifestyle of this house… at all.  Nor do I want to be treated like a kid again, as my mother does automatically most of the time whenever I am here.  Any time she has visited me in my own home, or anywhere else when I’ve not been living with her, she has treated me differently.  Sure, she’s always still a mom, and fussed at me for this or that.  However, it is not like how a parent talks to a child, how it is now.

Anyway, I have some things to get started with doing.  I want to live elsewhere, and yet here I am – this is what is available to me currently.  I want a good job that I love, and here am I, without employment.  So, little by little, I guess I have some steps to take, including figuring out what they are.  I know I’ll be all right, I really do.  It has just been mentally rough lately, and I so want to be finished with this near-constant anger, annoyance, and sense of hopelessness.  Guess it’s well about time I chat with Jude, hmm?  (I’ll start there, and see what I can brainstorm in that mental conversation.)
P.S. Bonus points to you, if you know what movie helped to inspire the title of this post.  It’s a family favorite of ours.  My cat even watched it with me after I first got him.  And he really did watch it.  It was kind of weird that he did, really, but also totally cute.

Post-a-day 2017

Life and Movies and Longing

I’ve been a dreadful sort of sick all weekend, though I’ve been mostly un- or half-conscious through it all, so it’s been somewhat tolerable, I suppose.  Finally, today I was able to watch some filmage, as I have been conscious these past seven-ish hours, and I was finally able to tolerate sound.  As I searched for a movie to watch, I got to wondering about the kind of movie I was wanting to watch.

I noticed that none of the movies coming up on the scroll (Netflix Japan) were really appealing to me, although I have enjoyed several of them in the past.  Why do I not want to watch them now, but I liked them at another time, and likely will want to watch them again in the near future (I have had this happen many times, you see)?  What causes that change in preference to happen?

Mostly, I just wanted to watch Mona Lisa, Smile with Julia Roberts (yet again), and I knew it was because I 1)loved the fashion and lifestyle in the film, and 2)wanted to be like Julia Roberts in the film.  And that’s what had it click.  I realized: I’m looking for the life I want.  Rather than sitting here on the sofa in aches and pains, simultaneously wishing to get well asap and to prolong the illness so that I don’t have to go to work tomorrow, I want to be somewhere else, in some other part of life, even in someone else’s life.  And, since I can’t actually do that, I seek this alternative, improved life via film.

I notice, too, that I sometimes do the same with books.  Now, while I do read the ones that peek over the fence to that desirable and unrealistic life I want (think Shopaholic (the book, not the terrible movie that I turned off in disgust after about five minutes)), I make sure to put in the various classics and highly acclaimed books that have to do with depth and such, as opposed to my girlish ridiculousness and fun, so as to keep a good balance.

Though, as I debated about how to word that second-to-last clause, I thought of books that I have loved over the years.  From Bunnicula to Ender’s Game to Shopaholic to Pride and Prejudice, there was always something I desired and somewhat envied about each of their worlds.  The friendships, the sneaking around, the detective mentality, the genius, the fashion and money, the lifestyle, the travel, the love story, the love… they were all things I would love to have in my own life, in my own world of here and now.  It was never merely a girlish crush on the handsome and strong Native American so in love with the female protagonist (I admit, I truly did love reading those bits of Bis(s) zum Morgengrauen and the whole series.), but often something much greater, much deeper.  I wanted, if not the whole thing, a piece of their lives to come to life within my own life’s story.

And so I think it is with the movies I most love, as well.  Why else would I love my favorite films so much as I do?  I can relate to them for how they are like I am, as well as for how I want to be like they are.

And, to further and complete the thought, when I am sick and alone and longing to be in almost any other part of even my own life, the movie I most want to watch will be the one that best depicts the ideal situation for my life right now.

And, for today, I think that is somewhere with a great beach and the perfect mixture of warm and cool breezes, filled with people who are fun and who love me and whom I love, and where I am already slimmed down from my winter warmth weight.  So bring on some Eliza Thornberry or Just Go With It, yeah?  ;P

Except actually.  🙂

 

Post-a-day 2017