Monday, February 20, 2012

Tragically Hip

If you know me at all (or if you have read any number of my posts), it is fairly well established that I have an issue being vulnerable.  I am the first to admit (at least in less-committal-than-verbal writing form) that it is hard for me to break down the barriers I have built in order to let people in.  Even when I REALLY like the person, even when I REALLY wish I could let it all hang out and just invite them in to the inner workings of my brain and or my heart.  The result is a stand-offish girl that is, at times, impossible to read.  And I get that, trust me, with every single fiber of my being, I get that.  And I hate it, infinitely more than any single person who has ever frustratingly and painstakingly tried to themselves break down my barriers. 

My blog has been silent as of late because as opposed to rambling on about this lesson or that experiment, I have been doing what some might call actual field research.  Someone peaked my interest as of late.  Someone peaked my interest enough to allow me to just let things flow.  No minute by minute analysis, no need to second guess or wonder, just pure flow.  There were no conscious thoughts of this or that- I never told myself to let it happen organically, it just did.  And, for the brief time that happened, it was amazing.  I cannot remember the last time I just let go in the way I have in the last few months, I would go so far as to say that I was happy (No, not that I am unhappy all other times, more that I was happy in the way that one can be when connection with another human is happening, it is like some sort of temporary amnesia... like we forget what it is to go through the every day droning routine because in those moments everything seems to be electrified.  Like it is all new and shiny).  And, I liked it.

And then, as abruptly as it began, it stopped.  The reason matters little, it's where my brain has gone in the last few days- that is what I consider noteworthy.  My mind has been going a million miles an hour for a couple of days now.  It's exhausting.  It is tiring to at once punish myself for letting go and being vulnerable (however little I let go and however brief the time), while celebrating the fact that I did.  The oxymornonical symphony that plays in my head on a constant is laughable.  "Let go, let loose" and almost simultaneously "Stop this insanity, you are only going to hurt in the end"  For every moment I let go there were ten that I stood back.  The ratio was narrowing right when it all seemed to come crashing down, and normally that would send me back into my angry little cave, where I would cocoon into a torturous bout of self imposed criticism.  Normally, I would regret every word, every action, I would tell myself "See, this is what you get for being too this or too that".  Normally, I would hate myself for being so stand-offish while at the same time loathing every second that I had opened up.  I would want to call and take back anything I might have said to offend or scare off.  I would do whatever I could think of to try to feel better in this moment.

As much as I cringe to admit it, I am hurting. And as much as I want to say that it never mattered, it did.  But for some reason, this time, I am okay with the hurt.  I am happy that it mattered.  Sure, all that self judgment shit has danced across my mind half a gillion times in the last few days... but that is it.  That is all the power I have given it.  Whether or not anything more comes of the situation is not up to me, which is sort of freeing, and slightly nerve racking at the same time.  This is the highest point of vulnerability I have experienced in a long time.  It makes me squirm.  And I fucking hate it.  I am literally in that spot where what will be, will be. It is the ultimate no control spot, I have no influence in the situation at the moment what so ever.  Ugh, what an icky feeling.  A year ago, I would be saying fuck it at this very moment.  No person or situation can make you vulnerable if you choose not to give a fuck- but as wise people have pointed out to me, not giving a fuck is not the answer.  It's a cop out.  And as much as I ache for those moments of free flow, of bright, shiny and new, not every moment can be that way, not every interaction can be amazing.  As much as the fuck it side of my brain would have me believe otherwise, feeling uncomfortable is good sometimes.  Squirming usually indicates growth, and being in this vulnerable spot WILL NOT kill me.

I am the girl who has the eternal what if loop in her brain.  I am the girl who will figure out a way to make a good thing seem shitty.  I am the girl who sets the bar for herself miles and miles out of my own reach; and when I do not reach it, I punish myself... I second guess, over think, and underestimate me on a regular basis.  Interestingly enough, I am the only one I allow to do this- let someone else second guess me.  Let someone else underestimate me, I will set a course to prove them wrong immediately, and I won't stop until the mission is accomplished.  How dangerous I would be if only I were to set out to prove that loop track in my head wrong.  All I do know in this moment is that no matter what, life will keep going, whether I hurt my way through to the other side, or things take an unforeseen turn, whether I torture myself with what ifs or attempt to appreciate this exact moment, life will indeed keep moving... it may have been sweeter for a moment, and it may be sweeter yet in the future but how would we recognize the sweet if there weren't some bitter, salty, and spicy moments to differentiate?