Remember when you were a kid, and your parents put TV restrictions on you? How they wouldn't let you watch the shows you wanted to, like Married with Children? And to kick you while you were already down they'd even limit your tube time to 2 hours? Sometimes I think I need that kind parental control nowadays, maybe not so much for TV-since like everything else we have limitless access to, it lost it's lustre and we've moved on to the next form of addiction worthy media. I need it for everything else that has monopolized my time and attention without me even noticing it. That includes facebook, twitter and everything else that falls under the umbrella of "total time-suck." Just because we disperse our time across 4 new forums of entertainment, doesn't make them any less harmful, and just because you can check it while grandpa Jo is paying with coupons and coins in the grocery line or waiting at the DMV doesn't mean it takes up any less brain storage.
And it's garbage most the time-do I really need to know what so and so is eating for lunch??! Or learn for the 8 billionth time that "Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away"?! I knew that already, I knew that back when everyone had it as pictures under their 'about me' on MySpace 5 years ago. Not only that, its these false relationships that face book and the like renders-people we know only through their braggin' or their ranting and almost nothing in between. No real connections, just vast and endless flow of useless information. My head might explode at any given moment, and instead of meaningful memories of my life or insightful philosophies about the world....my headless neck would be spewing viral videos of puppies chasing their tails from YouTube and pictures from some fraternities latest kegger. That's not what I want going through my head in my last moments on earth, and my brain capacity is extremely limited as is. I feel as though that space should be saved for something that contributes to society more like the cure to cancer or the piece of evidence that would prove OJ did it.
An even worse side effect of constant "connection" is that we begin living our lives through comparison and only adding to this collective dysfunction of trying to keep up with the Jones' were subjected to anyway. What's real is me, and what I'm going through today, and not what lavish vacation Ms. Goldigger was just taken on, or what success Mr. Entrepenuer just found. While I'm perfectly happy for them and their good fortunes, "powering off" every once in a while and disconnecting, helps me redefine what the corresdponding version of my own happiness is, and working towards that. No offense, but I want to live and die by my own definition of fulfillment, not yours or anyone else's. You should do the same. So that being said, lets work on not letting this social media stuff spiral wildly out of control and start deluding what our idea of reality is. And now if you'll excuse me, I have some Real Housewives of Beverly Hills to catch up on.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Hugs and Kisses and lots of Kleenex, 2010
So the start of a new year begins, and naturally I start re-evaluating just what the last 365 days were made of. What have I learned, how have a changed? Please god, tell me I grew somewhere-SOMEHOW, and hopefully not just in the waistline. Now I definitely would never label myself as the glass-half empty type, but to put things mildly, I recall 2010 as being cruel. Sometimes life has a way of "putting things into perspective" for you, meaning you didn't volunteer or want it, but life's gonna go ahead and be asshole anyway. And hey, if you can handle it-meaning you don't do a downward spiral into over indulging prescription pills or alcohol, and end up holding a cardboard sign on the side of the I-5-eventually things begin to look up.
My first memory of last year was waking up in an apartment I had just moved into after having to move out of the place I shared for a year and half with my then boyfriend. I'll spare you the details, but it ended abruptly, and it wasn't what I wanted. I woke up, not realizing where I was for a minute-I didn't recognize my room, and yet there I was, most of my belongings still in cardbaord boxes surrounding my bed. When it finally registered, I remember breaking down into tears, not just a few-where a couple run down your cheek,slightly smudging your mascara, that you can tenderly wipe away and gather yourself together. No-the floodgates had opened;red nosed and snot producing-full blown hysterical bawling. And all I could feel was the weight of my sadness crushing my heart-physically. I just wanted to be back in our apartment, in our bed, watching our dumb boxed dvd sets of 24 or 30Rock. Time traveling skills would have come in handy then. The life that I loved, and cherished and wanted forever was gone as I knew it...pulled from underneath me like a table cloth in one of those tricks where, you know, the guys pulls it really quick and none of the plates topple over. I remember trying to go back to sleep, just so I wouldn't have to face the pain of being in reality. It was truly the most profound sadness I'd ever felt in my 25 years. If there were an acceptable, non-selfish, non-religiously condemned way to find eternal sleep, I would have chosen it at that moment. I despised being awake for the next 7 months. And for a girl who governed her life looking for the silver lining, I couldn't find one.
I've never known how to outwardly express unhappiness, so people thought I was fine. That it was your run-of-the-mill break up and yeah, you hear about them a million times a day-but for me, I had lost my purpose for being here. Me. I was repulsed and ashamed of myself. I had invested too much, whole heartedly and now I blamed the end of a relationship for destroying my life, when it should have never made my life to begin with. I had NO desire to date. I went into spinster mode, most Friday nights were spent in over sized sweats steaming artichokes and watching Law and Order reruns. Detective Stabler became my pseudo boyfriend.
My life imitated the directions on a shampoo bottle, except it went like this: work, cry, sleep, repeat. There was never a light bulb moment where I was like "I'm great!", it was more like days and days and days passed. And I learned to be okay, and eventually I was okay. I started going to church, it was the only place I felt sane. I know church isn't for everyone-but anything that makes me feel like I'm not the biggest thing in the universe, and there is some greater call to being here then living at the whims of people I date-made me feel better. I re-focused my career, started writing again, spent time with close friends and laughed. And laughed and laughed. Like in the spring, when all through fall you had nothing but grass, and one day you walk outside to notice a little yellow flower growing that you hadn't seen before. I emerged, everyday a little happier and a little more okay than I was yesterday. Phewwww, I really didn't think I was gonna make it there for a while.
I guess what I learned in 2010, is that even when you've hit rock bottom, on your hands and knees, completely broken and desperate and you think you can't go on one more day. Guess again. Cause unfortunately, like your happiness-your sadness is just as fleeting. And if you can hold on, one day you've got a good chance at finding it again.
My first memory of last year was waking up in an apartment I had just moved into after having to move out of the place I shared for a year and half with my then boyfriend. I'll spare you the details, but it ended abruptly, and it wasn't what I wanted. I woke up, not realizing where I was for a minute-I didn't recognize my room, and yet there I was, most of my belongings still in cardbaord boxes surrounding my bed. When it finally registered, I remember breaking down into tears, not just a few-where a couple run down your cheek,slightly smudging your mascara, that you can tenderly wipe away and gather yourself together. No-the floodgates had opened;red nosed and snot producing-full blown hysterical bawling. And all I could feel was the weight of my sadness crushing my heart-physically. I just wanted to be back in our apartment, in our bed, watching our dumb boxed dvd sets of 24 or 30Rock. Time traveling skills would have come in handy then. The life that I loved, and cherished and wanted forever was gone as I knew it...pulled from underneath me like a table cloth in one of those tricks where, you know, the guys pulls it really quick and none of the plates topple over. I remember trying to go back to sleep, just so I wouldn't have to face the pain of being in reality. It was truly the most profound sadness I'd ever felt in my 25 years. If there were an acceptable, non-selfish, non-religiously condemned way to find eternal sleep, I would have chosen it at that moment. I despised being awake for the next 7 months. And for a girl who governed her life looking for the silver lining, I couldn't find one.
I've never known how to outwardly express unhappiness, so people thought I was fine. That it was your run-of-the-mill break up and yeah, you hear about them a million times a day-but for me, I had lost my purpose for being here. Me. I was repulsed and ashamed of myself. I had invested too much, whole heartedly and now I blamed the end of a relationship for destroying my life, when it should have never made my life to begin with. I had NO desire to date. I went into spinster mode, most Friday nights were spent in over sized sweats steaming artichokes and watching Law and Order reruns. Detective Stabler became my pseudo boyfriend.
My life imitated the directions on a shampoo bottle, except it went like this: work, cry, sleep, repeat. There was never a light bulb moment where I was like "I'm great!", it was more like days and days and days passed. And I learned to be okay, and eventually I was okay. I started going to church, it was the only place I felt sane. I know church isn't for everyone-but anything that makes me feel like I'm not the biggest thing in the universe, and there is some greater call to being here then living at the whims of people I date-made me feel better. I re-focused my career, started writing again, spent time with close friends and laughed. And laughed and laughed. Like in the spring, when all through fall you had nothing but grass, and one day you walk outside to notice a little yellow flower growing that you hadn't seen before. I emerged, everyday a little happier and a little more okay than I was yesterday. Phewwww, I really didn't think I was gonna make it there for a while.
I guess what I learned in 2010, is that even when you've hit rock bottom, on your hands and knees, completely broken and desperate and you think you can't go on one more day. Guess again. Cause unfortunately, like your happiness-your sadness is just as fleeting. And if you can hold on, one day you've got a good chance at finding it again.
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