Well, last night was an interesting night. It was good for me, but a tough night for introverted Ellen. I ended up going out of town to a "Get Together" that my sister's boyfriend had set up to meet a new girl that he knows who will be working at my office soon. All these people were invited, but every single one of them bailed, except Stephanie and I. Including the new chick! Totally didn't show up. Oh well. Stephanie and I got free Thai food out of the situation, since Bill felt so bad. Ha ha.
Then, on the way home, I decided to call my "best friend" who I haven't talked to since last August at her wedding. She lives thirty minutes away from me, and we just never see or talk to each other. I felt like a louse about it for a long time, but I finally caved last night and just called. We ending up talking for an hour and a half. She's having a hard time adjusting to being the stepmom of two teenagers. Sometimes she drives me completely crazy, but we click so well. I realized that I really missed her. We always laugh so much and have really deep discussions. We actually like to listen to each other describe movie plots. I never watched the movie, "Titanic" because she described it to me so well after she saw it. I felt like I didn't really need to spend the money. We drove to Wyoming one summer and described about five movies that the other hadn't seen. I also don't need to see "The Color Purple" or "Schindler's List."
Maybe we could be real friends now that we aren't co-dependent with each other like we were seven years ago.
By the time I got off the phone, it was 9:30 and time to go to bed. As I was getting into bed, I realized that I hadn't had one minute to myself the entire day. Even though I had a good time that night, I felt a little cheated, even though I was happy. As I was falling asleep, I asked Jason, "Is it normal to be frightened of being happy?" He said, "No, I don't think that's normal." Whenever I feel lighthearted or happy, it comes with a feeling of being out of control. Of impending doom. I get so scared that what goes up must come down....and way way way down. It's always been easier for me to be melancholy, because I know melancholy. Melancholy and his brother, Depression, are good friends of mine. Well, not "friends," but they've lived with me for so long, I know their habits. I know when they go to bed at night and what they eat and what television programs they watch.
Happiness is a stranger to me, and it's very scary. Mainly, because I like Happiness so much, that I fear it's going to leave me forever, and it will make living with Melancholy and Depression all the more excruciating.
Also, I'm too well read on depression, so whenever I feel happy and up, I fear that I am tumbling into mania and I'm turning into a bipolar person. Which is really stupid, because I have absolutely no history of that. The truth is, joy and happiness scare the pants off me, even though they are the things I want most.
Then, on the way home, I decided to call my "best friend" who I haven't talked to since last August at her wedding. She lives thirty minutes away from me, and we just never see or talk to each other. I felt like a louse about it for a long time, but I finally caved last night and just called. We ending up talking for an hour and a half. She's having a hard time adjusting to being the stepmom of two teenagers. Sometimes she drives me completely crazy, but we click so well. I realized that I really missed her. We always laugh so much and have really deep discussions. We actually like to listen to each other describe movie plots. I never watched the movie, "Titanic" because she described it to me so well after she saw it. I felt like I didn't really need to spend the money. We drove to Wyoming one summer and described about five movies that the other hadn't seen. I also don't need to see "The Color Purple" or "Schindler's List."
Maybe we could be real friends now that we aren't co-dependent with each other like we were seven years ago.
By the time I got off the phone, it was 9:30 and time to go to bed. As I was getting into bed, I realized that I hadn't had one minute to myself the entire day. Even though I had a good time that night, I felt a little cheated, even though I was happy. As I was falling asleep, I asked Jason, "Is it normal to be frightened of being happy?" He said, "No, I don't think that's normal." Whenever I feel lighthearted or happy, it comes with a feeling of being out of control. Of impending doom. I get so scared that what goes up must come down....and way way way down. It's always been easier for me to be melancholy, because I know melancholy. Melancholy and his brother, Depression, are good friends of mine. Well, not "friends," but they've lived with me for so long, I know their habits. I know when they go to bed at night and what they eat and what television programs they watch.
Happiness is a stranger to me, and it's very scary. Mainly, because I like Happiness so much, that I fear it's going to leave me forever, and it will make living with Melancholy and Depression all the more excruciating.
Also, I'm too well read on depression, so whenever I feel happy and up, I fear that I am tumbling into mania and I'm turning into a bipolar person. Which is really stupid, because I have absolutely no history of that. The truth is, joy and happiness scare the pants off me, even though they are the things I want most.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home