Rant of the Season

You know that feeling when you kind of want to cry, but you don't? Like something heavy hanging in the backdrop of your consciousness, and any random commercial on rescuing animals is going to break the dam? Or even an offhand comment that wasn't meant to hurt you stabs you in the chest and makes you cry? That's how I've been feeling the last couple of weeks. Hell, the last couple months or so. I haven't been sleeping well. I'm getting old.

I really don't know if I can do this. I really don't know if I can keep going like this. I don't know... what to do. Why I feel so... empty. I can't see tomorrow any better than I did a decade ago. The only thing holding me together is the slow, deep breaths that I take in between moments of panic. I don't know why I feel so wretched all the time. I should be used to this. I've been feeling this way for so long. For too long.

I have these moments where it seems like I can feel everything all at once: my sadness, my anger, my pain, my bitterness, the chaos around me, the emptiness, the forever expanding space of loneliness of the past, present, and future. And I'm in the midst of it all: alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

And then all of a sudden I can't breathe. And I have a mini panic attack at work, at the bus stop, on the train, wherever I am.

I feel selfish for saying it. For feeling it. Because I'm not alone. I've got some family and friends that care about me. I have a boyfriend that loves me. I have a roof over my head, and clothes, and a great job. I have it a lot better than a lot of people. But here I am, bent over on the desk with my hands on the sides of my head, trying to ground myself, and willing myself not to cry.

I've seen someone about this. I've talked about this. I've gone to therapy. And it didn't really help me. I mean, it was great, but it didn't do much in terms of trying to stop this feeling.

I think the hardest part is just not being able to talk to anyone about it. They either get tired of hearing about it because it's the same bullshit all over again, or they don't understand because they've never gone through it. Most of the time it's the latter.

You know what else is silly about this whole thing? From the time I was 11, which is the earliest age that I can ever recall myself first feeling this way, is that... I don't know. I've always just wanted someone -- just one person -- to be by my side. To just... be able to understand me, and be there for me, and to love me. And in my head, having that person in my life will make everything okay. Like they'll fill this empty void, and I'll be okay. I'll be happy.

I mean, I don't expect them to be amazing and super human. I guess I just expect them to be there with me all the time. Despite all the crap thrown at us. As much as I hate the idea of forever, I guess it's something that I've always wanted.

But I've been in a bunch of different relationships and either I haven't met this person yet, or that's just my issues talking and that's really not the way to solve this problem. But it's there, in my head. And try as I might to ground myself into the reality that there's no such thing, it's there.

And perhaps that's why I'm not happy. Because I'm an idealistic person. I'm not realistic. I'm a romantic idealist in denial, trying hard to be realistic and failing tragically.

When I was younger I had always prided myself on being independent. I'm not going to get married, nor have kids. I'm going to travel the world, and experience everything. I hadn't thought about relationships, but I liked the idea of not being tied down.

So when I grew up the opposite of what I thought I would be (a romantic, daydreaming, terribly attached with streaks of jealousy kind of girl), I'm kind of disappointed in myself. Plus, you shove me into this situation, and BAM. Now I have to get married? Who the fuck am I?

But the ideas have warmed up to me the last couple of years, I guess. Perhaps it's not as bad as I thought it would be. My experiences have shaped me into this person, and granted I'm not the way I want myself to be, I should love myself. Who cares?

So when my boyfriend gave me this spiel about how human beings aren't monogamous creatures, it felt like someone threw knives into my core. I had this strange sensation, like someone pulled the rug underneath me, and I realized I'm standing on the edge of the Empire State building looking down. I was reeling. I was nauseous. I was mad. Mad at the world, for making me this way. Mad at myself for not being more realistic. Look at my boyfriend, he's right. I always knew this. There's no such thing as forever. If my younger self grew up the right way, I would be agreeing and rejoicing. What an amazing person he is. What a great, open-minded person. What a great opportunity to fill my youth with all kinds of experiences. Rejoice.

Rejoice.

Rejoice.

Rejoice.

What fuck is that shit?

Youth is naivety.

The problem with this situation is that I can see the future of this. And it doesn't look good to me. Experimentation is great while you're young, sure. I encourage it. I've done some drugs, I've had sex when I was high, I walked the streets at 3 AM when I was high, I ate things I can't even think about because it's disgusting if you're sober. I drank until I almost passed out, and then drank some more and partied on the street afterwards. There's things I don't remember well. I didn't sleep for 36+ hours because I was on a rush. I went to posh events. I was the 'other woman'. I got into cars with strange men. I woke up on a stranger's bed. I had one night stands. I mean, I didn't do amazing things. But I did go through an experimental phase of life. I threw myself into the bullshit. I've even watched others go through it. I've watched others do worse.

I've watched what comes out of it. And you know what? It ain't pretty. It's exactly what it is. A phase. It's not a lifestyle.

There's a reason why people find solace in each other at the end of the day. Why there's beauty in growing old together.

There's also a reason why some people experiment later on in their relationships: healthy experimentation.

I get that.

But you can't do that at the beginning of a relationship.

God. You can't just introduce another person into the relationship and think that nothing will change. How fucking naive. Things will change. Things always change. And it's not always a good thing. Things will fall apart. And people will get hurt.

And you know what? That's not going to be me.

What a bullshit thing to say thing to say to me.

I'm so frustrated. And angry still. I don't know if I can ever get over this. As if I didn't already feel like shit before. I'm never going to get away from having a shit life. It's been 13 years of crying alone, and my life's still a joke. I don't know whose sick idea this is, but I don't know if I can keep going like this. Because this isn't one incident of a shitty way to try fun things in a relationship. This feeling is 24 years of a shitty life.

And I'm fucking tired of it.