Good news, friends….I’ve made a discovery that has the potential to save you a metric crap-ton of heartache – I have found rock bottom so that you don’t have to. That’s correct…your intrepid adventurer (me!) has figured out the whereabouts of the absolute lowest point a human being can possibly be, and it happened today. You are welcome! Let me tell you all about it.
I got up early today to go and meet a friend for coffee. This friend had a major job interview today and was stressed to the max, so I thought a pep talk and some bad humor from me would be the trick. As it turns out, I thought correctly, as the interview was a smashing success. We chatted on the phone afterwards, but got interrupted by another call (on their end of the line) – the tentative plan was for them to give me a holler later and possibly see each other. I am still waiting on that phone call….and it’s nearly midnight. I’m going to assume that it’s not coming. So glad that I got out of bed early for that today.
Next up, let’s backtrack to a few nights ago. I was chatting with another friend, talking about going to see a movie this week. We had some tentative sort of plans, but I wasn’t exactly sure of the deets, so I asked another question about it – I was met with this response: Wow, you are one persistent woman, aren’t you? You’re used to getting your way, yes? This was not said as a compliment, not even a little bit. It is true, I can be persistent, but…it has absolutely nothing to do with getting my way. It’s because I so desperately want someone to make that kind of effort with me, and I’m trying that whole ‘put out into the universe that which you want to receive’ thing – apparently it is not working. I let this person know that their feelings had been noted, and that I would not ask about that kind of thing again. And, while I am definitely persistent, I am also one of the most stubborn mo’fos that you’re likely to meet, so….I’m fairly confident that this will be the end of that friendship. Aren’t I just the greatest? I know.
So, back to tonight – I ended up with an unexpected night to myself, and ended up at home. This seems to be the trend. If I don’t make plans with people (which makes me a persistent, spoiled brat who is used to getting what she wants), then my damn phone doesn’t ring, as nobody else is making the plans with me. What the hell, indeed. I simply do not get it. I wish that someone – anyone – would explain exactly what it is about me that is so bloody off-putting…I’ve heard that the problem is that I try too hard. I don’t know how to fix that. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
I spent this evening at home, drinking Blue Moon out of the bottle, watching the Amy Schumer movie “Trainwreck” – I do believe that I am the only person in America who hadn’t seen it yet. I decided to save it for a night when I really needed a laugh – I figured that this was it. Turns out that I didn’t find it so funny, as learning the truth about oneself in the form of a movie is not even a little bit hilarious. I’m not the wild child party whore that Amy was in the beginning of the movie, but low and behold if I’m not pretty much the same emotionally damaged trainwreck (ergo the title) that she is. I saw myself in the messed up relationship that she had regarding her dad. I saw myself in the way that she pushes people away lest they get too close. I most certainly saw myself in the emotional retard that she was when it came to men (NOTE: I know that it’s not politically correct to use the word retard, so please pronounce it the way that Zack Galifinakis did in “The Hangover”, with the emphasis on the second syllable….it makes it considerably funnier and not as offensive). I saw myself in way too many things in that movie, and it broke my bloody heart. I haven’t stopped crying in over an hour (while the movie was still on, for shit sakes), and it’s not the delicate tear trailing down my face kind of cry – it’s the full-on, snot flying everywhere ugly cry with frequent bouts of hyperventilation. I would like to point out that I rarely cry, so…this is rather significant.
So – I’ve concluded that this is what rock bottom looks like: sitting at home, yet again, sobbing uncontrollably over one of the top-rated comedy movies of the last few years, drinking Blue Moons, wishing that you had orange segments to shove into the bottle. Rock bottom is crying a whole big bunch of tears because you recognize – finally – what a bloody pathetic jackass you are pretty much all the time, but you haven’t a clue how to fix it. Another feature of rock bottom is that you aren’t the fabulous, independent free spirit that you think you are. Rock bottom also includes the sad fact that you can’t call anyone to talk about this because you know that nobody wants to hear this shit. And rock bottom is all of this happening while you are home alone and something is rubbing against the window outside, making it sound like Freddie Krueger is trying to get in, which is not terribly comforting.
So…there’s rock bottom, friends. It’s not something that you’re likely to find on a map, and if you do see a sign pointing towards it, turn your arse around and run. This place friggin’ sucks. I want to try to embrace JK Rowling’s attitude about this, but my natural optimism has taken a shit kicking lately, so…it’s a bit of a struggle. Hopefully I’ll get there. 🙂 First step: quit crying and blow my damn nose.