Current events only relative to the author

A small note from the mind of a bored women. If you've ever wondered what half of us are ever thinking, here's a little sneak peak.

The initial stages of grief. Part 1. Recognizing you’re alone.

 

Does depression sell? As in, if I write how I want to end my life, does that draw in sales, revenue, does it pique interest in my plight, is it juicy, is it gossip; is it dirty enough to be popular? Yes.

            With that intro can I say I long to die? Some days yes, other days no. Should anyone ever take me seriously on this? No. Primarily, because I’m too afraid to die. And that’s that. But I do get depressed. It’s just today, I feel like being overly-dramatic.

            I’m alone.

            It’s very simple. I feel alone. I live with others, I have my outlets, but I’m alone. I can take myself to a crowded café, order a cup of brew, and sit down among peers and never speak a syllable. I’m alone in a room of noise.

            First dates have become a nightmare for me. They go something like this:

            “Hi. Daniel?” I offer a smile and a reaching hand.

            “”Yea. Jackie?” His hand grasps mine and it’s warm, dry, and friendly.

            “Yea, hi. How are you?”

            “I’m all right. How are you? How’s your day?”

            “It’s been all right, I’m well, thanks. You? Have you enjoyed your day today?”

            I never offer more than the vague generic response to that initial question. I just try to keep the attention off me and on him.

            “Yea, traffic was a disgrace, work was busy, had the boss riding me, but I smashed a goal so I’m ready for a drink.” Follow with a laugh at his own likability here; his easy camaraderie. I can see he’s able to work hard play hard and definitely not my type. So, I’ll keep the conversation focused on him and won’t let him in on the details. He’s too negative.

            I’m not one for drinking and I gave up cigarette smoking many, many years ago. Knowing I don’t like awkward silences and thinking let’s just move this to the bed, I ask, “So what goal was that? What are we celebrating tonight?”

            And on he goes with his accomplishments, none of which stick with me because I’m too focused on myself and making sure I look presentable to this man I no longer care for.

Question: Why is it that the people we like least, become the ones we nitpick over our own image?

            Am I sitting up straight?

            How’s my makeup?

            How’s my smile? Do I have something in my teeth? Did I just eat that, s**t how’s my lipstick?

            Son of a b***h, ask him a follow up. Seem witty and urbane, intelligent and poised. What was the detail he just provided? Am I smiling enough? Do I seem interested? What do I ask him? What the hell do I say? And perform.

Answer: Because we want them to know, when we reject them, that we were the better choice and that they lost out on a great catch. Can’t show your a*s just show them theirs so I must remain focused and amicable during this lost three hours of my life.

            His turn, “So tell me about yourself, it says in your profile you write books. How’s that going?” I can’t tell from his features if he’s genuinely interested or doing all the right social dating things to get me into bed. Do I answer with detail because I think he really wants to know? Or do I give a short answer and gulp a few more rounds of liquor to loosen up?

            I decide to give the short answer and immediately turn the discussion back to him. “So your project sounds fascinating. I’ve always enjoyed learning new ideas, new techniques, what’s the applicability of your work?” I usually date engineering types and so most are modeling structures, drafting up documents, proposing a new idea, re-structuring re-designing re-modeling re-analyzing re-anything, or developing a complex algorithm. The beauty with these guys is that most live inside their work and rarely come out. And when they do, they like to see others interested in their work. Unless the individual is bored, or very well rounded... These few elusive individuals throw me for a loop and catch me off guard. Those are the ones I really like, because they force me to be honest in the conversation and to take part of it. They keep me in the social group.

 

Getting it together. Part 2. Some type of a follow-up

 

            There are days when I’d prefer not to focus on men. Those are the days I’d like to write without saying much. Such as,

“Who left the peanuts out on the table?”

“Sarah did. We were just complimenting how lovely her dress looks tonight. She’s to meet Daniel’s parents for the first time. The cinch above the natural waist is a wise choice.”

See what I did there? Elephant in the room… There’s a pregnancy… stuff like that. Speaking without speaking.

I used to pride myself on my collection of knowledge until it became the only thing I knew. Not so smart after all…

My life began with a lot of excitement. It wasn’t necessarily good excitement. It was actually very, very bad. So bad indeed, that it need not be mentioned in the contents of this letter. But, it was exciting nonetheless. It gave me a platform to build a life on. I’ve had people come to me and congratulate me on how strong I am, how proud they are of me. I’m courageous, I’m worthy, God’s got a plan for me. These aren’t clichés. And I know people are earnestly giving me the closest connection they can, because the exciting life I led in youth was not one most can match in experience. Be that as it may, my life today seems boring, it seems droning, mindless, and endlessly tedious. Until, one thing happened.

I got accepted into a program abroad. It was for a Master’s program. Such a chance! Such an opportunity! Coming from where I came from, I’ve never thought this could be an option for me, but there it was, higher education at my feet. And the chance to finally travel! Think of the experiences I’d rack up, the romances I’ll have, the food I’ll eat, the cultures I’ll learn, the conversations, oh the glorious conversations I’ll have. It won’t be like America, I won’t be ignored, just take me to a remote village where people force you to help them fold the sheets hanging from a line... You’re engaged again. Just say yes Jackie! And I did.

But life hit me in the face and said no. And so here I am speaking without speaking. I don’t have a metaphor to explain what happened. You just get to know I was ready and rearing to go. I’ve been done, “with this American life,” for a long while and I’m ready to push off. I’ve even had the unfortunate habit of picking up colloquialisms nonnative to my normal diction.

And so, today I write this diatribe, this letter of discontent. Simply to say I’m depressed. Just as I started the letter so I end the letter. I want to remember life is glorious; everything happens for a reason, and yes, yes true, I’ll eventually remember that. But today, here and now, I’m f*****g miserable. I gave up the next chapter because I said there could be a Plan B if I want there to be. My positive excitement, the novelty of living abroad and being aboard can wait. The novelty of speaking again and being a part of a conversation again can wait. I can put it on the back burner.

           I always chided those who said, “Tomorrow. Let’s wait until Tomorrow.” Because Tomorrow never comes. And here I sit, feeling hypocritical; thinking where’s my damn Tomorrow? And forgetting I’ve got a Today to use.

Author's Note

Enjoy some of the daily writing. I'll do my best to post a new note each day. Share with friends and family, like my stuff on fb : https://www.facebook.com/GirlWomanUs?ref=hl and I'm on twitter as well: https://twitter.com/melmhoover

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

I used to pride myself on my collection of knowledge until it became the only thing I knew. Not so smart after all…
WOW. So I am going to stalk you on FB - wait is it stalking if I admit to it? I often ramble like this as well. Seems the female brain doesn't have an off switch or a nothing box and my male family simple doesn't get it.
Even though this is saturated with depression - spritzed with melancholy and a hint of chaos - there are those amazing statements. Like the one I grabbed and quoted. Peace.

[Jack V.]

Thank TL for the stalking and review :) Ciao bella!