This Is Gonna Take Awhile

Sighhhhhhhhhh. . . . . .

I have. . .  a tale. . . of woe.

Okay, not really, but sorta.  See, okay, I'm just kinda of out of my mind lately.  I'm tired, I'm running around like crazy, I can't sleep like a normal person anymore, I'm in conflict about a friend, I'm in conflict about another friend, and I'm in conflict about myself.

Shall we start at the beginning of the list and work our way along?  Yes?  Yes. Yes, I think that'll be simplest.  It'll be easier for me to explain that way, I think.  I have a lot to say but I'm not quite sure how to go about saying it.

Alright, so I'm tired.  For the first part of the summer, I was working like crazy.  I was keeping up with two jobs, and also trying to satisfy my mother that I was working as often and as hard as I can to make as much money as was possibly available to me.  This expended a great amount of energy and a fair deal of stress.  Yippee.  But I got through it, and I even enjoyed it, and it wasn't that bad, really.  Just another challenge, and you may have heard about my way of handling challenges.  They had better think twice before coming along or they'll wish they'd never ben born – that's my policy.

Anyway, so I was tired.  One job depended on strawberry season, however, and strawberry season is, regrettably, over, so that's that.  But last week we went camping.  It was almost unbearably humid – but we bore it so it must have been bearable – and I was sleeping in a tent with no air conditioning.  Now, to be fair, there was the camper, right there, next to me, filled with air-conditioned goodness (air) – but there really isn't a spot in there for me without starting a fight sooooooo I was mature about it and slept in the tent.  . . .Okay, so it was also because I'm stupid and stubborn and I like have some personal space.  And quite frankly, even though I was tired constantly, I didn't mind being awake in the middle of the night just because it was just too dang hot.  I listened to the night sounds, if there were any, and just chilled. You've also got to remember that I share a room every day of my life otherwise – at school and at home so this is like heaven for me.

And anyway, one night, I texted my friend James, who also happened to be up; and another night, I texted my friend Marcus, who is always up.  I enjoy texting Marcus, whatever time of day it is. . . .

via

Anyhow, so now I'm home, but it's vewy, vewy humid and my room is one of the few in the house without air conditioning.  Sure, as my mother has pointed out before, I could sleep in the basement, but then there would be the effects of the fact that I'm not sleeping in my own bed – so is there an answer?  I ask you, is there an answer?  It's not that bad, really, we have the ceiling fan on and a window fan blowing out and drawing the cooler air in from downstairs, and by morning, it's usually pretty comfortable in there.  But even so, especially right after we got home from camping, I haven't been sleeping through the night very well.  I feel like I barely doze or I plummet into the depths of "knocked out" for an insufficient amount of time.

So what's next?  Oh, running around like crazy.  Right, well, you read about the part where I was running from one job to the next.  Basically, I have one that is every weekday morning, and then I would work this other one some afternoons and most open Saturdays.  But that's over.  So now I've just been going all over Connecticut (where we were camping), and now I'm running errands and keeping appointments, going to various kinds of summer parties (family, graduation, pool), and then there are various family get togethers and summer opportunities, too.  Not that any of this is bad, but I am tired, as we discussed.

Um, it would seem that I already explained my sleeping problem when I was explaining my exhaustion.  In addition, I try to sleep during the day – and to be fair to myself, I do sleep and sleep longer than my usual naps – but I always wake up before I would like and then can't go back to sleep for several hours.

. . . .

Now we get down to the dirt.  This is – as you are all too well aware, I'm sure – a very long post already; so be warned, now we discuss the deeper meaning of life. . .  or the deeper problems behind my facade, as it were.

Really, it won't be that bad.  But if you don't like drama, feel free to back out now.  I won't be offended.  I won't even know.  (And right now, I'm giggling at myself for my cleverness.  Do you see how I've gone mad?  It's quite a sickness, really, hard to shake.)

Yeah, I'm being weird, but I don't really care anymore.  Turns out people like me a little weird.  And as it comes naturally, I'm good with that!

Okay, so conflict with a friend.  Hmm.  There's two, as you read, and I'm not sure which to handle first.

Alright, well, there's my good friend who is a guy.  Yeah.  And I've always been fond of him, in so far as I thought he was funny and he reminded me of my little brother (always is a long time; let's say, since I got to know him).  But he started texting me shortly into this summer and suddenly, I really liked his company.  Now we text all the time.  And it's not just me.  I mean, sometimes I feel like I'm carrying the whole conversation on my shoulders, and then I begin to doubt if he really likes talking to me as much as I thought, and I feel myself backing off, shutting down, stiffening up.  But then he texts me the next day, just to talk.  Merely to talk.  To talk about nothing in particular.  He just texts me.  Even when neither of us has something to say, we want to talk.  And I'm scared.  Our friendship – the bulk of which developed through text messages – frightens me a little bit, but I trust him completely.  And I never would have suspected. . . .  But I really do trust him. . . in a way that I don't trust anyone else. . . utterly and completely. . . .  I'm not afraid that he won't have time for me. . . or that he won't care. . . or that he'll get annoyed. . . .  . . .Do you begin to understand?

As for my other friend conflict, it's very different.  It's with the girl that, until recently. . . .  No, even now, I consider her my best friend.  I haven't trusted her with all my secrets, and I suspect I never really will.  The problem, and only reason, is that we are so different.  I mean completely.  She's one of those girls that sees a new pic on Facebook and will comment, "Pretty girl!" or "You're so beautiful, babe!"  I would never, ever, ever, ever do that.  Not for any particular reason, but just because that's not my personality, or my traditional response to anything, or my way of thinking.  I love her, because she is, but she does so many things I can't understand and somethings I just plain don't like – and the feeling is mutual.  But for some reason that we can't explain, we are best friends.  But we recently had a fight over a comment I left on her Facebook profile photo.  I didn't mean it as an insult, but I typed it up in a hurry, realizing the time, and ran out the door to go to work. . . so I didn't realize how mean it sounded. . . .  She was ready to just shrug it off as just another weird thing I say, it seemed, but then her mom saw it.

Now if she had a problem with it, then of course, I'm sorry.  I would not want to hurt her feelings at all, of course.  But the problem was that she texted it to me – and you probably know how confrontations can quickly spiral out of control that way.

Being at work, and having been attacked in such a queer manner (as I'll explain in a minute), I texted right back.  That was my second mistake.  Because confrontations can quickly become nasty and hard to understand through text messages.

Anyway, we had a fight, through text messages, and no matter what I said, I couldn't seem to smooth things over.  Obviously, this should not have happened.  She should have called me.  I should have called her.  Whatever, but it should not have been handled through text messages.  Suffice it to say that we had a big fight.

Fortunately, my car battery was dead.  Fortunately?  Yeah, believe it or not.  I called my dad, who happened to be with my mom just two minutes up the road at the farm stand.  They came to help, just in time for me to completely break down in tears.

There's more, but the point is. . . it was vicious.  And I don't mean they (my friend and her mom) were vicious.  It was vicious.  I had a really emotional moment.  I don't want to continue to dis my friend to the world, but... even though we've tried to communicate since (on the phone or through Skype), for various technical difficulties, we just haven't been able to really talk.  She seems to want to make up, and that's fine with me. . . but what if she just can't see from my perspective?  That's what scares me.  Is it possible that she'll just plain disagree with me?  And I mean, I apologized, so I'm not sure what else she needs from me.  I guess I'm afraid of being vulnerable. . . .

Whoo.  Okay, so that's that.

As for my conflict with myself, I'm going through a spiritual renewal, brought on because of some old, bad mental habits that I developed out of loneliness.  And I'm also trying to figure out who I am. When I look in the mirror, I don't recognize myself.

I finally know what that means – to not recognize myself.  But what I experience isn't like what some movies make it to be.  For me, I look in the mirror and I see a beautiful girl with a little bit of make-up on and clothes that fit and flatter.  I'm happy with my body and I'm proud of myself.  I'm pushing myself in uncomfortable situations, and I'm emerging triumphant.  I don't leave parties feeling ashamed at my ability to be invisible, I don't leave work feeling taken advantage of or disliked, and I don't chase after admiration anymore.  I'm eager to help and get things done, but I don't let other people get lazy.  I will not be invisible.

And that's not the girl I used to know.

~Meggy