So I’m initiating a self-inflicted isolation.
Nothing too drastic; I’m still going out with friends and I’m still chatting with people on the phone…I’m just…I don’t know…toning it down a bit.
I suppose I mean this mostly in regards to dating. This ever-so-wonderful week marks the last week Rob and I were together. A near three-year live-in relationship was unraveling at the seams by Valentines Day (how apropos) and since then I have been on a wild roller coaster of love interests and not-so-comfortable run-ins that have left me downright winded. I’ve revisited my past relationship–and several other past relationships. I’ve also met a lot of really great people that have turned out to be good friends and I’m glad and proud to say that they’re in my corner.
I’ve also fucked up. A lot.
Anyway, back to the reason I decided to ramble in the first place.
Kira is at John’s tonight, so I’m home alone. I figured I’d cook myself some dinner, sip some tea, and take it easy by watching The Secret Circle (my new obsession). In this episode, Cassie is being haunted by dead witches. They do a good job making it spooky–it’s much more of a Halloween episode than a Valentines Day episode–which makes it perfect. The problem is, I’m a pansy.
If you’ve never watched a scary movie with me, then there is no way for me to adequately express just how true that sentence really is. I am an absolute, 100% chicken-shit. I am a 24 year old woman who is afraid of standing in front of windows because I fear that at some point somebody will be staring back at me. Sends chills, doesn’t it? I won’t sleep with a ouija board nearby and I am not swell with jumpy things. In fact, I am deathly afraid of frogs because they do just that…they jump. And you never know which direction…and their slimy little suction cup toes…ugh…
The only way I can manage to get through this damned episode is if I pause it every couple of minutes. I guess that, by doing that, I wake myself up from the cinematic trance long enough to breathe before plunging back in.
I also do this when characters in normal shows/movies are about to embarrass themselves.
So my conclusion is this: I wish I had a pause button.
I know it’s not a novel concept. Who doesn’t wish they could “turn back time” (yeah, I went there…and Cher understands, man!!) But seriously…I don’t need to go back…but to “pause” would be great. I can’t count on one hand how many situations this week alone that might have been fixed if I had a fucking pause button. Just a five-second breather so I can recollect and rethink some things.
I mean, I guess I kind of do. If I would calm down more often, I could probably instigate my own little zen-like state, but let’s face it…I’m not going to do that. Not that I shouldn’t…it’s a terrific idea and would probably lead to a higher state of maturity that I so desperately need to reach, but I know me. When I’m upset, that hot-tempered Sicilian blood starts boiling and I see red and every horrible thing that could ever come out of my mouth can and most of the time will come out. As will the tears. (Yeah…pansy and crier.) You know it’s bad when you make yourself cry more than other people make you cry.
Not only that, but I’d make better decisions. If I could hit “pause” before letting my guard down too quickly or taking that last shot of tequila (Patron is my friend…Cuervo is not) then I’d probably be able to avoid a lot more stupid situations. Who knows? Maybe I’d even be able to catch myself before I fall down the stairs again!
Oh, the possibilities!!
Then again, maybe I’d just relish in my anger or make my klutzy stair-face situation worse by flipping into a sommersault and landing on my head. Maybe breaking the flow isn’t always good.
But still–how cool would it be to just freeze everything around you? I’d get into so much trouble with that kind of power. The first thing that comes to mind? I’d totally “pause” my friends’ beer pong games and take the ping pong ball out of the air and put it somewhere else…like in their pocket or something. Or replace the ball with a rubber ducky.
I could also pause life when I’m about to fall on one of Kira and I’s rollerblading routes…right before she notices I’m about to eat shit. I’d just “pause,” right myself, and skate past her before hitting “play.”
More importantly, this would help me when I’m reacting to things emotionally. Then, when I’m about to storm out on a guy who doesn’t even know what the hell he did wrong, I can wait for a second, assess the situation, and possibly stay put. Or I could decide for sure if it’s a good idea to leave.
Or I could stay out of the situation completely, recognizing that in the heat of the moment what seems like a good idea probably isn’t one.
Lately I’ve been making decisions based on nothing more than what feels good momentarily. I’ve spent so long worrying over the moral implications of my actions that I haven’t had a whole lot of fun up until recently. I have this habit of stressing myself out over how everything I do might affect other people and in most cases that’s a good thing…
…if you want to be a lonely, boring nun-like cat lady.
I am not catholic and Rob got the cat when we split, so that just leaves lonely and boring.
So I’ve been out and meeting people and honestly having a good time…except that I send myself on these horrible guilt trips afterwords. I’m not exactly sleeping around, but I’m so used to belonging to one person that I’m not completely sure I know how to be single.
I know how to live on my own and how to have fun on my own…but single life is a strange place. There are so many rules and so many people ready and willing to mess with your head and lie to you! You end up being paranoid. And paranoia leads to craziness. And I’m already crazy enough, thank you.
I’m really good at getting ideas in my head…and not very good at shaking them. Lately, due to one guy outright lying to me about a couple of key details, I have approached other men with the caution and distrust I should really be showing him (oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m tossing him out of the picture).
Another problem is that, when I get angry over something I have every right to be mad over, I feel terrible about it. I hate being mad at people. I can’t stand the idea of bad-blood being between me and anybody else. I usually know when I’m wrong (which I am about 60% of the time), and I always admit it…up to an annoying fault…and I have a feeling that it’s that quality that makes me a doormat. And when you’re a doormat you become very angry…and that anger comes out a lot when you drink…which leads to projection. Never a good thing.
Here is where that pause button would come in handy: when I’m projecting my feelings about one thing onto people that have nothing to do with it. I let myself feel this way…it’s not their fault…and I’m letting the other person–the guilty party–get away scott free because I don’t want to be the instigator. I just want to get along with people, regardless of what’s been done. So when I actually am to blame, the guilt becomes even worse.
And then I hibernate in my apartment and watch cheesy shows about magick and love and haunted medallions…because this is my personal form of a “pause button”…and damnit, I need a break.
I’d like to point out that, while writing this, The Secret Circle has been on “pause.” The TV has switched to a screen saver…so I guess it’s time to hit play and let things play out the way they will.
Until next time 🙂