I’m standing outside of a Kroger next to bundles of Christmas trees. It’s very early in the morning, but it’s too heavy to be the start of my day. I know as I look out into the parking lot that the ride I’m waiting for will be taking me home. This is the end of something. I step my feet out onto the tar and feel the cold pulse up through the soles of my shoes. Every step has a distinct clicking woven through grittiness and rubbing that’s only amplified in the quiet, empty lot. My breath is cold and visible in the early morning air. I’m not smoking, so my hands sit tight in the pockets of my faux fur coat. The world is still asleep. My earrings are long and unnecessary, but I love how they swing and brush across my shoulders with every step closer to those red taillights. The red eyes staring back at me through a cloud of exhaust, pulling me in further. I open the car door with that loud and first real sound of day breaking. I slide through the back across the leather bench seats. I rub my hands together and put one on each of the headrests in front of me. The door light dims as I lean forward between the driver and passenger seats, close my eyes and let the dry heat warm my face. No one speaks, and we drive away.
Hi. re-cap of my dream last night for anyone reading this. Now, time to share some things…
I’m uncomfortable today. I do not feel graceful like I am just floating through this whole thing with understanding and forgiveness. NO I don’t want to get anything from the store to make something healthy because I just want coffee and chocolate covered almonds today, but I’m doing it anyways because it’s the next right thing. This is what it looks like people. I said a lot of ridiculous things to my husband that now I can’t change, so I’m texting him obsessively while he’s working a two show day like somehow this could be helpful. This is not my day. This is unfinished and happening right now. I hate everything about this feeling. It’s like nails on a chalk board. A part of me feels like it’s not fair to be this frustrated since I’m me who has had to go through so much already. Apparently this is just not the case: in fact, the more you heal the more life happens for you, so YAY more opportunities to serve YAY it’s like an endless football toss. Here you go, and another one, and another! You can handle it. You don’t really have a choice, and another one. There is no day off for life, and I don’t even have a regular job. Can you believe that? That’s real, you guys. This is what happens for people who don’t spend their whole day pretending to have wine parties.
This is me sometimes. This is what it means to not escape. This is staying. This is the itch on my leg while I’m trying to focus on my breath. I don’t know how to communicate away this feeling, and I hate it. A part of me wants to stop doing all the things because I’m not into it right now because that’s what I’ve always done is throw in the towel. It’s hard to want to take care of myself when I don’t feel like there is any reason to. There is a Fiona apple song called “Regret” that explains right now really well. It’s like after you’ve stuffed yourself with too much of everything, and you’re just stewing in your own decisions. Growing up is hard, people. Sobriety is hard. Life is hard, today. I’m frustrated with myself. Everyone says “oh it’s okay just to be human”, FINE but I don’t have to be happy about it all the time. I hate not having a yoga studio here that actually has classes longer than 45 minutes, and I am really ready to roll out our lives into the next city. Deal with it, and last thing ; I feel totally misunderstood by an entire group of people I met here, and I’ll never really be able to defend myself against how they view me because life wants me to forever be standing around with all of these ideas that are somewhat impossible to translate like it’s so hilarious. That’s just my thing. I’ll always be moving my hands around trying to speak to other humans forever misunderstood. “Most Unique”…. Yes, sometimes this is frustrating. I’m not waiting until this is over. This is it. I’m in it now. Curtsy. Curtain. Fin.
Fiona Apple | Regret (click here for link to song)