I’ve already made my mom call for the day. However, there will probably be another one or two before the close of today.
This call came right after a court appearance for a speeding ticket I got a month ago while driving up the 170 to Chatsworth to a friend’s housewarming.
Spending that much money in one setting on something everyone does everyday but is illegal that you got caught doing really sucks. I am not trying to say I didn’t break the law and don’t now have to face the consequences. It’s just that, as I told my mom this morning, I feel so irresponsible.
I hate that feeling. I’ve always been responsible. It’s a label I like. But lately I’ve felt anything but. And I feel like I have to keep up the responsible facade. That along with a few other facades that are rapidly crumbling. These were the root of my frustration this morning and the real underlying reason for the mom call.
Yeah, paying the ticket and now having to attend driving school really suck. Especially because now that means I may not be able to afford that leg wax next week or that new psychiatrist/counselor my friend recommended (which I probably need and would do me some good.) But the ticket and the fines are also a facade…in a way. They were a problem facade. The frustration over the fine led me to call my mom which I thought was the only reason. I thought I called her because I was frustrated at the ticket and the feeling of irresponsibility it gave me.
I was wrong.
After breaking down in my parked car in Van Nuys this morning while talking to my mom, we both agreed that the ticket was not really why I needed to talk. It started out about the ticket & led to me in tears…over what else…lonliness.
Hmmmmmm, haven’t I been saying I like being alone? That I prefer it? Yup, I have.
But, the root of it all is that I am lonely. I am so desperately lonely. I wish it were anything but that. But it’s not. I’m lonely. And I don’t know how not to be because I chose it. I don’t lie when I say that I like being alone. I do. Then why do I feel so lonely in a negative feeling way?
I feel friendless. And I apologize to my friends for feeling this way, but I do. Also, to my friends, it isn’t because of them–it is because of me. I chose to be alone and then wonder why I’m lonely. I chose to be “strong” when really what I’m doing is reinforcing the steel walls I’ve constructed around myself.
My mom said that it is stronger to be soft. SHe is right. But I am so not skilled at that. I am sensitive…to other people’s problems. But I’m quite ignorant of my own. I have gone so long without being vulnerable that I have trouble figuring out how to do it. I struggle. I actually have to try at it. I have to fight my ego in order to be. Perhaps that’s where that “strength to be soft” thing my mom was talking about comes in. It takes strength to fight my ego. She’s one tough bitch!
But she is a bitch…and a bully. And has been preventing my soft strength.
And this is why I broke down this morning. Because I DON’T break down. I don’t let people see me the way I was this morning. Broken. Scared. Fragile. Dependent. Only Mom gets to see that. She said I need to practice being more open. Yes, I agree. But how does one do that? How do I practice exposing myself? I am soooooooo afraid of hurt.
I am vulnerable. I am sensitive. I know these things about myself and because I know these things I have taught myself to take active precautions not to let these qualities out too often.
But I know people know…so, why am I still hiding.
People may know, but my sensitivities scare me because I know how much they allow me to feel–everything. And that everything is sometimes bad things–that really hurt.
Not many people have seen me hurt. Like really truly hurt. My mom has. She was the one stroking my hair at age 16 the night my first love broke up with me & gave me my first broken heart and I was sobbing more than I every have. She was listening to the nonsense between the sobs, the pouring tears, the difficulty breathing. She was there as I cried myself to sleep and awoke the next morning to show the world that I don’t get hurt and cried no more about it to anyone else.
…until I discovered alcohol and then a lot of people saw me cry, but I at least had some outside substance on which to blame such uncontrolled emotion. But I don’t drink like that anymore. ANd drunk crying isn’t pretty. But I somehow convinced myself that that is the only time it is acceptable to cry–when drunk or alone or both.
Oh people have seen my cry. But it is controlled. Sort of like my laughter.
But, today a traffic fine set off a spark to some inner emotion and I lost it. But, I waited until I got to my car and had my mom on the phone before I let go.
Why did I let go, though? I’m lonely? Is that what made me sob? I’m lonely and it is a recurring theme and I don’t know how to remedy it.
I don’t know how to make friends. I told my mom that. I’m not good at it. I never have been. I feel like I’m not a good friend to the ones I have. Oh, sure I have friends, but inside there is a part of me that still believes that they don’t really want to be my friend. I’m not that interesting nor that helpful. I try. I can be at times. But, inside I feel like I don’t have a lot to offer. But I want to share. I want to offer. I want to be vulnerable. I want others to know me and feel me. But, I’m awkward. I’m weird. I’m unconventional. I like these things about myself, though. I just don’t get being a friend. Relationships of all kinds are so foreign to me. I feel like ET or something. I feel like an alien.
that is how awkward I feel.
my awkwardness makes me uncomfortable in social situations makes me uncomfortable around people makes me put up walls makes me uncomfortable with vulnerability makes me want to be alone makes me lonely makes me call my mom once my pent up emotions come to a head over a minor traffic violation.
I love my mom.
and I’m learning to share my love and myself with more than just her.