Monday, December 26, 2005

Bah Humbug and Crap


I don't know when I'll learn just how very much I hate the holidays. I don't say I hate them to be flippant or cool or whatever. I really do dislike them. No matter what, holidays seem to end up being depressing and disappointing in one way or another. Yet, each year, the big cynical Scrooge part of me gets shushed by my smaller idealistic part that insists this year will be different, and each year I find myself buying into it.

I went down to Pburg because Mikey was in town and it had been ages since I last saw him. I stayed with Angie and her girlfriend, which, going into it, I thought was a little weird. However, I was really touched to be thought of and included in my friends' celebrations because I have no family here. I didn't want it to be weird and on the drive down there, I was even a little excited. I imagined a warm holiday in which I would act like a normal person and be grateful for the open arms of someone else's family.

Truthfully, it didn't happen like that. In fact, I'm both ashamed and embarrassed of what did happen. You see, I ended up having an emotional breakdown/freak out. The reasons are complicated and I'm not even entirely sure why, other than being at Christmas dinner made me feel unbearably lonely and alone. That combined with the fact that Angie has been increasingly distant since my move, and seeing for myself this new life she has with her girlfriend.. well, it was really hard. I've been having kind of a mid-midlife crisis type thing anyway, and all of this just pushed me over the edge.

The first night was fun and being in a group setting of friends was fine. The next night, I went out with Mikey and Angie's brother, Brian, and we were having a ton of fun until all the gay boys were off making out with each other and I was left sitting by myself in the bar. It was pretty dead and the one cute girl there had totally blown me off, so I was sitting there alone with my increasingly depressing drunken thoughts. I ended up crying about how lonely I feel and how I wonder what is wrong with me, that I have absolutely no luck in the romance department. After all that, no one ended up hooking up with anyone and we all went home separately. Before going to sleep, I scrounged up a pen and paper and, through tears, I wrote the following (warning: drunk and maudlin ahead):

I'm tired. Tired of my life, tired of watching other people be happy, tired of watching everyone else obtain what it is I want for myself. Sick, sick to death of envy and jealousy, sick of comparing myself to others.

I'm just so tired. Tired of being me, tired of being unhappy, tired of fucking everything.

I doubt and hate myself so much. I treat my friends more gently and with more tolerance and understanding than I treat myself. My friends receive gentleness, while I receive punishment, over and over, for crimes I can't let go of. Stupid crimes that earn ridiculously stiff consequences and berating.

I am so tired. Tired. Tired of pain and struggle, tired of trying to carve my way through this life. Tired of being unique, different. Tired of being an acquired taste. I'm tired of feeling old and bitter before my time. I'm tired of my fear, my insecurities... all the things that prevent me from being who and what I want to be.

Most of all, I'm tired of being invisible. In some ways, I enjoy and cherish being different, but in other ways I wish there was more of a mainstream appreciation for me. My sense of humor, my looks, whatever. I'm tired of being on the margins, feeling entirely unique and different from everyone else. Tired of not fitting in.

Why can't I be happy with what makes me unique and "special"? Why must I always want what is impossible to obtain?

My greatest fear is that I will be alone forever. That I'm nearly 30 and haven't had a single long-term relationship that I would call successful. That all I've had is the one really fucked up one, and that's it. That no one seems to get me, and that no one ever seems to be interested in me. It's hard for me to separate this disinterest from my appearance, something I fear I will never be satisfied with.

I don't know how to take this apparent disinterest in me. I want to be wanted. I want to have fucking dates and relationships, for god's sake. Even a simple hook up now and then would be more satisfactory. I just can't help feeling that I don't fit into this world at all. I can't help but fear that I will be alone forever, watching everyone else but me obtain the simple happiness I want for myself. I'm so fucking tired of being alone! I'm tired of being different. I just want to be beautiful and wanted, and loved. Why does this come so easily to some and not at all to me? I'm so sick, fucking sick of feeling invisible and unattractive, and knowing that I don't fit most people's ideas of anything.

Being different is my fucking curse. Special, unique, my ass! I'm tired of feeling ugly and unwanted, and freakish because I don't fit into any sort of box. I'm tired of being me. If I died at this moment, I would think more on the relief of not having to deal with this bullshit anymore and honestly I wouldn't care what I hadn't accomplished yet. I just don't care. I'm miserable and I fear I will always be miserable.

Merry fucking Christmas bullshit!!!

Having vented some, I went to bed and had one of the most vivid, disturbing, and intense nightmares I've ever had. The next day was okay, although I was still feeling the emotional remnants of the previous night as well as my nightmare. The more time I spent at Angie's house, the more weirded out I felt by the whole thing. I felt like such an outsider in her life and I started thinking about how I just wanted to go home.

Christmas Eve, we went to Angie's dad's house for a family dinner. It's not as if they were all strangers, and I tried to be a good guest out of appreciation for inclusion of their holiday. But as time went by, I just kept being pulled down into depressing emotional shit. Angie spent no time with me whatsoever and stuck by her girlfriend pretty much the entire time. Once a mood like that starts to take over, there's very little I can do except remove myself from the situation to deal with it alone. I went outside a few times to breathe and I was trying so hard not to cry. I probably would have been able to hold it all together until we left, but Angie's step-mom, who is just about the kindest, warmest, most generous person I know, came over to me. She stepped close to me and looked me in the eyes and said, "Oh, Alena.. don't worry.. you're a wonderful person and I know you'll find someone just as amazing. There is someone out there for you."

It was like she could read my mind and I just lost it right there. I started crying and tried to apologize and explain that it wasn't her fault, but I felt like I was making a scene, so I got up and went into another room to compose myself. Instead, once away from other people, I cried harder. I had been invited to brunch at Angie's mom's the next day, but all I could think was that I wanted to go home, that I couldn't deal with any of it anymore.

We went back to Angie's house and started to watch a movie. I kept thinking about everything and the emotional vortex I was in, and I felt strongly that I should just go. It was too hard, all of it, and I felt embarrassed, ashamed for how I was acting. I felt like a terrible guest on all counts and the longer I was around Angie and her girlfriend, the more uncomfortable and weird I felt. So I pulled Angie aside and told her I was so sorry for acting like I was and that I wanted to go home. I cried yet again, as I tried to explain how I felt and what was wrong, that I was so sorry for being such an emotional freak. We had a short talk and she convinced me to stay.

I had hoped that these feelings would pass or be less intense the next day. My intention had been to the most grateful guest, to be helpful and cheery. But Christmas Day was just as bad. It was so clear to me what an outsider I was, and it didn't even feel like I fit into Angie's life anymore. I decided I would go to brunch and then leave as soon as possible.

My departure felt hasty and weird. I just couldn't wait to get out of there. I felt like I wouldn't feel normal again until I was home. As I said goodbye to Angie at her mom's, I kept apologizing for being such an emotional freak, trying to explain my actions and feelings. She said she loves me because I am a freak, which I now think is kind of funny. But at times like that, where I'm overwhelmed and overtaken by emotions I can't control or subdue, it feels like I can't connect to anyone else and I can't get what's going on inside across. When I got home, I called to say I'd gotten here, but I could hear myself speaking and I knew I sounded really weird, so I thanked them and apologized again for crying.

Now that I'm home, I do feel much more centered and relieved, but I can't shake the feeling of being a traveling emotional freak show, a grenade of weird shit that apparently can explode at any time. I feel like I can never go back there, that I can never stay with Angie again. That probably none of them will invite me again anyway, considering how I acted. That maybe Angie and I can't be friends anymore because I can't deal with the changes or the shift of things. I feel all kinds of guilt because I feel a complex mixture of jealousy and I know it's wrong.

I just don't know what is wrong with me. When I'm overtaken like this, I know my behavior must seem bizarre and selfish. Emotions like this, I can't control, and that's not normal, is it?

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

i know this is a really old entry, and maybe you feel completely different now, but i randomly searched for "i'm tired of being me." on google and i found this.

and i just wanted to say, that you are not alone. i know people say that, and it sounds dumb, but now i'm thinking there must be some reason they always say it- considering i'm a complete stranger and reading this was like reading something i could have written myself. word for word.

Alena said...

Hey, thanks for your comment. I really appreciate your taking the time to say what you did.. the entry may be old, but I still vividly remember what I felt then. It feels good to know someone else can relate; makes me feel a bit less of a 'traveling emotional freakshow'.

Oh, and thanks for drawing my attention to this entry.. it was, oddly, kind of good to revisit it..