catlittertrash-blog

[catlittertrash-blog]

Monograms and Alcoholism.

I woke up today with what would be best described as a need for a swift punch straight dead center in the throat, disguised as an sudden overwhelming need for a ton of girlfriends who lack any foundational moral code or basic drive in life other than to get drunk, mixed with a deep need of being liked by everyone. So basically. Just another Wednesday. Even though normal me doesn’t give one iota of a fuck about who likes me and who doesn’t.  Today my brain decided to hopscotch down the rabbit hole of wondering why the fuck I don’t have a ton of friends. Followed by the canyon of “WHY DOESN’T ANYONE LIKE ME?” To end in a thicket of “Hey you pissed my mom off this morning” from my ever so stupidly loving boyfriend. Today blows, basically. But. I guess a victory of the moment would be my subconscious brain rising above the smog of my own self torment to be like... “...hey.... hey.... are you really so concerned over a bunch of topical friends to do brunch with and drink until you can’t stand? Or is it that you just need to redirect your energy and maybe get a healthy hobby? Seek out a new path for yourself and like minded friends could follow?” Score one for the years of therapy with my beloved Hadleigh. Zilch for depressive mood swings. I don’t know. I’m 33. And I know my 33 year old self. I have and always will be an introvert. To the core. Being a stand alone, a homebody with a knack for headphones and fucking up meaningless conversation because it’s not my forte... that’s in my BONES. I don’t know how to be anyone other than that. And to be honest... I don’t WANT to be anyone other than that. I’m a mom. I’ve cultivated a couple really incredible friendships that see through seasons of absence (mine, because of my introverted ass- which makes me wonder if I should work on forcing myself out more?), friendships that move beyond boundaries of different zip codes, friendships that I’ve made through social media with friends who live across the world, mama friendships.... all KINDS of close and solid bonds. They’re not perfect. They’re not hang out or talk every single day. They’re not Sex and the City or Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants ... but they’re solid. And they’re where I pour my soul. Because that’s what being a friend to me is. Pouring your soul into another human. Giving advice. Being an ear. Loving them wholly. and being there in the 11th hour when you’re needed. It’s not daily phone calls to talk about nothing (sweet jesus god.) (but maybe sometimes it is? Maybe I’m doing it wrong?) It’s not drunken nights of inexplicable chaos that you can’t remember the next day. It’s not fly by night and it’s NOT here today, gone tomorrow. At least in my world. When I’m your friend, I extend every ounce of my human to you. I may not be capable of holding long drawn out mindless conversations, but I will listen to you for hours when your heart is broken. I’ll celebrate your biggest victories like they were my own. I’ll laugh with you. I’ll cry with you (even though lexapro doesn’t really allow me tears anymore?). I’ll bear my whole soul for those I love. And I guess that’s what I needed to dig down deep in myself and remember. I’m a 33 year old mother. I work hard at a job I love -full time. I give my all to my child. I do my best to make an amazing household. And I tend my soul to make sure I am the kind of person my nearest and dearest need me to be (including who I* need me to be). and you know.... maybe that’s more the focus now. Who do I need me to be?

There’s where I’ll find the holy grail. Pour into me, and I’ll pour into you. And nothing else should matter.