If you’ve been following along, you know that I’ve been trying very hard to create a vacation for myself and yet nothing seems to be going the way I’d like, which doesn’t make my desire to get away subside in any way. For quite some time now, I’ve wanted to run off for a few days to a tropical happyland and just forget about work, bills and adult responsiblity in general and experience what it’s like to reward yourself for getting through years of very hard work and difficult times. Now that I’m at a stable place it feels like the right time. Except that it’s not according to the Universe.
The first one, yes, was way too spontaneous and it was just designed to flop, I know. I make mistakes. The second felt more realistic and it only took about 12 hours to really work myself up into excitement over the possibility of going. The crash from that was pretty bad and it really shouldn’t have been. I mean, really, these are unimportant things that nobody really cares about, why are you getting so worked up? It’s not like you can’t go somewhere else in December, or next spring, or whatever.
After I was done talking out loud to myself I realized I wasn’t actually upset over the trips themselves, but this is how I handle things that disappoint me. They fester, unknown to anyone else, until something is set off and I aim the frustration elsewhere. It is so much easier to bitch openly about these stupid trips than it is to discuss what affects my life. It’s what I do. The breakdown is predictable if you know what you’re looking at.
As it builds, so does my sarcasm, until I can’t even remember how to hold a normal, respectful conversation. The things I tend to whine and bitch about are really so inconsequential that nobody pays attention (which is probably good) but it also drowns out the stuff that matters. Then it’ll reach a point where I lash out on Twitter and probably lose a couple of followers. Still, nothing I’ve said means anything. It’s just what I do.
So, if you’ve had to say something soothing or you’ve thought, “man, she complains a lot,” I apologize. I’ve allowed my own feelings and fears of lonliness and frustration take over the little things. This is particularly irritating to me because in the big picture, I have zero to be complaining about. My job is good and it pays me well, I have no debt, car’s paid off, my credit score is okay, I own my place, have the best family ever, and some very cool friends. This is partially why I don’t open up. I feel ungrateful for the good stuff when I let the bad stuff rule.
This is hard, because I do not like to expose my vulnerability to anyone and I never expected to get overly personal on here, but I have reached a point where I sort of do need an outlet. I’m still not comfortable bringing certain subjects up because nobody needs to be burdened with this stuff, they have their own problems, and I’m just not the “talk about our feelings” kind of gal. Maybe if I were, I would be less bitter.
Even though I’m still not going to talk specifically about these things, I do feel better for having spit all that out, and in the end I did get myself a little bit of a getaway. I’m going to visit some friends in August in Yakima, WA, where I lived for 8 years. It’s no Mexico, but they’re great people. If the three of you who read this made it this far, thank you for reading, and don’t worry… I eventually always get over it. It’s what I do.
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