Mental Mix Tape

This morning while getting ready for work I had 4 songs stuck in my head, playing on a loop in a mental playlist. I have only recently listened to 2 of the 4 songs. Bob Marley's No Woman Don't Cry, Maroon 5's Love Somebody, Lynyrd Skynyrd's Simple Man, and Billy Idol's Dancing With Myself. I sense a theme with my playlist this morning and I even moreso now believe that the strength of our subconscious is beyond our comprehension. Sometimes I think we know ourselves more deeply than we even realize and it is evident in situations like this where my own mind surprised me and put together my fragmented thoughts and scattered emotions into a mental mix tape. 

Long ago I used to pretend life was a movie, taking each day or even each situation as one movie scene, frame by frame. There were the regular cast members - mom, dad, T, the school crush, my lunatic Algebra teacher Mrs. Daranyi who called me an albino in front of the entire class...and then there were guest appearances - the cute boy at the mall, the homeless man I befriended at Starbucks who was convinced he could tell you your life story based on number sequences. There was the old woman I was paired up with as a volunteer at the Jewish Home for the Aging who died not too long after getting to know her; my art teacher Dottie; acquaintances who came and went in frequent rotation. 

I think this was a coping mechanism for me; it made it easier to fantasize about being a main character in the movie of my life rather than facing the reality that it was really happening and it was mine. I was always told by my family and teachers that I have a very vivid imagination. But without help molding the proper way to use this "gift," things can get easily distorted and warp my perception of reality. And when I came to the realization that this so called movie was my true, real life, it was hard to adjust. It was hard to accept that I had to wake up and really feel.

 

Feelings are a constant topic for me. Having them, facing them, their origins, what to do with them and where to catalogue them in my mind are all concerns that I face on a regular basis. The realization that I am a typical female was the first issue I had to come to terms with. I am typical. I just keep repeating this. Why is this a shock to me? No one is really unique. Our relationships with one another are what is unique. How we relate and communicate and the foundation of our friendships is the uniqueness to who we are. But at the end of the day we are all female or male, breathing, blood pumping human beings who all have feelings, worries, stresses and cares.

 

My mental mix tape is my subconscious reminding me that there are feelings that I must face. Billy Idol’s lyrics “with the record selection, and the mirror's reflection, I'm dancing with myself…” or Bob Marley saying “Good friends we have had, oh, good friends we've lost, along the way. In this great future you can't forget your past…” and even Maroon 5’s “…you're such a hard act for me to follow. Love me today, don't leave me tomorrow…” encompass the many feelings that I am facing. Fear of being alone; friends who may be moving away in the near future and the friends I’ve already lost in the past; fear of loving and losing… Man I love the power of music.

 

Or…perhaps I’m completely over thinking this whole thing and in truth I heard the other songs playing at some point this week in a restaurant or on a commercial and by chance my mind put it all together at random with no deeper meaning. I’d like to believe it is the first reason and that there is a deeper reasoning behind the way my mind works…and that maybe I am actually unique!  

I Bet You Think This Blog Is About You

I know that this blog is a fucking cliche. Just an open forum for ranting and bitching. I am so torn between love of writing and the need of an outlet vs. the pretentiousness of thinking everyone gives a shit about what rants and thoughts are bouncing around in my mind.

As someone I know likes to say, it is what it is, and so I will keep on keepin on. I've been posting quite a bit of backstory on me and some of the people or circumstances that have caused me to fall off the metaphorical wagon so to speak. Don't get me wrong, I am in a good, scratch that, great place in many aspects of my present life, with some parts better than others. I have a great fucking job that I am thankful for every morning when I log on to my computer at my desk. I am embraced for my quirky, slightly crazy self and feel like I really have place where I belong. Most people go to a job that they can do but do not enjoy. I am the lucky exception. As far as my career is concerned I have it all. 

I am however at a difficult crossroads in my life where I feel a tremendous amount of pressure put on me by my married peers and my family  in terms of starting a family. I am not there yet, if ever. I like the idea of keeping the family going and the notion of heritage and tradition, but I am not sure I can handle the rest of what comes with that responsibility. And this whole being 30 thing at first didn't seem to be a big deal, but has quickly become dreadful. I am so bloody sick and tired of getting asked when I am going to get pregnant or why I do not own a home. And I am pretty sure that most of my relatives think I am unable to conceive because there is no other reason in their minds why a couple would be together 10 years and not procreate. Maybe because I'm still trying to figure shit out!? Have they ever considered that maybe I am doing my unborn, not-even-a-consideration fetus a solid by trying to figure out my marital issues before brining it into this chaotic world? So there it is...I am actually being selfless in my abstinence from motherhood.

And I have a news flash for everyone freshly married and on a rampage to pop out a screaming, pooping bundle of joy...having a baby is not an obligation. It is not a right of passage. It doesn't make you a better person. It is simply a choice, of course full of seriousness and love and hopefully excitement. But it is not something to do because your mom said so or because you feel it is expected of you.. So eat it cousin Jenny! Let that simmer Aunt Jeane!

In the end I truly don't want this blog to be a bitchfest. I want to use my right of freedom of speech for fun facts and witty, interesting observations that will hopefully provoke you to think and comment back. In a world of constant connection full of hash tags, status updates and sharing blogging is important. I hope you enjoy! 

Everything In Life Is A Choice

There are many wagons to fall off of. Some revert back to drowning themselves in the drink, others succumb to the pressure of life at the end of a crack pipe. I think there is a wagon of life, the track you are supposed to be on, your own 80 year plan of sorts. And it is easy to fall off that course or metaphorical wagon, whether it be by choices or circumstances out of your control. Mostly choices in my case with one really big, horrible circumstance.

Lets dive right in to said big, horrible event. December 9, 2013 my dad died of brain cancer. Major life changer and first time I fell off. A mixed bag of unprocessed emotions and fluctuating hormones, it can best be said that I was one angry bitch. Lost, unmotivated, couldn't see the point in life. I hated him for leaving, hated my friends for their lack of support, and just wanted to give up and sleep away the next 10 years of my life.

Somehow I got back up, dusted myself off and worked at a second hand store trying to get back into being an earning member of society, which was expected of a 21 year old. I was down right pissed off, hung out with questionable characters, distant to my boyfriend, angry at my dad for leaving too soon, I was an f'ing mess! The wagon was so far in the distance I couldn't even see the dust cloud from the spinning wheels.

I obviously made it back on as here I am writing this blog with a great job, marriage in full swing, working towards a future...but the ride has not been easy and, as you will learn, was full of falls and consequences.

To take you back even further before said horrible event, I think the first time I truly fell off the wagon was my junior year of high school.

I used to think my struggles during this period of my life were unique and that I was a special case, but now I realize I was typical. I always wanted to believe I was a one-of-a-kind; a soul searching, artistic, misunderstood youth torn between a conventional bright future or the daring, but much more romantic, "road less traveled"...I was nothing more than a 90's cliché that hundreds of movies portrayed.

There was this one friend who we will refer to as “T”, for purposes of hiding her identity and not getting my ass sued off…although I am quite sure if she ever read this blog she would know instantly I was writing about her. Sorry T.

T and I met back in middle school. She was a tall, fully developed and slightly awkward girl. We bonded instantly over sarcastic silliness and a mutual love for well executed pranks. I was drawn to her wild side, which I now realize bordered on psychotic. T was a fun friend who encouraged me to push my boundaries, which did help me break out of my comfort zone, but also influenced me to stir up trouble. T and I developed an unhealthy amount of crushes, which we obsessed over daily. It was not until recently that I realized T was actually an abusive friend; she used her friends, especially me, to elevate herself and inflate her own ego. By making her friends look bad or embarrassed she looked that much more desirable to everyone else. One day T brought V8 to lunch with a plan. While drinking it she had me make her laugh, resulting in her spitting it all over another one of our mutual friends. Another day T held me down on the yard, took my shoes off, tied them together and threw them on top of the chain link fence at the basketball courts. I had to find a janitor to get them down for me. Another day she dipped a tampon in ketchup and hung it from another one of our mutual friends backpacks while she was waiting at the carpool line to get picked up from school. Her main goal was not a deeper, more enriching education. It was humiliation of others.

I feel in deep with this girl, adorning her with the title of best friend, thinking she was the only one who really understood me. I was a pawn in her life just like everyone else. There was one final, ultimate situation with T that made me realize she was actually mentally disturbed. I will leave this twisted story for another time, once our trust has been developed. The only reason I am even bringing up T is because I am certain that it was this friendship that initiated my withdrawal from trying in school and was the negative influence that has tainted my views on trust within friendship, molding me into the skeptical person I am today. 

But beyond this shitty friendship, I was a good student but very bored…I’m sure you’ve heard a million teens say that before. But it was true. When I applied myself I was an academic rock star, but in the back of it all I was bored and insecure. Ultimately I found sanctuary with the odd balls and screw-ups, the art kids and the dreamers. I made the hasty decision at the beginning of the summer before my senior year, to leave my private school and go to an overcrowded, gang infested public institution of learning…this is the first time I fell off the wagon.

This one choice paved the way for many other bad choices, which resulted in destructive friendships, lack of motivation, heavy experimentation in drugs, and an “I am invincible” attitude. I became my parents worst nightmare and wasn’t sure I was ever going to see my 21^st year. Somehow I made it to 30 where I am today, but it wasn't without struggle and a bunch of stupid moves. I am technically a college drop out and have done everything the hard way. Whatever way I chose before and whatever journey I sign up for in my future, it is my life and my experience.