Yes of course you all get the reference!
It has been a long few months. The Bride was saying how she told someone there are people who blog when angsty and I’m one of them, only when it’s really too angsty I close up. She might be right.
After the birthday I was wrapping up like mad to go to the US to visit Scoo, The light of my life and her new baby sister. I spent most of August there, and a bit of September, returning to the sales conference, a gigantic pile or work, and a publishing conference in Goa the following weekend. It made me feel all posh I’ll tell you, being invited to be on a panel in a conference! But it wasn’t a very scintillating conference, though I did meet some lovely people there, and got to hang out with the delightful Haathi and VC. I quite like monsoon Panjim.
Then I came back to more work madness, which only began to let up in early October, but that’s when le sad decided it had been quiet too long. It began with a SPECTACULAR drunken meltdown on the 2nd, triggered by the Flake, but also witnessed by the Marathoner, though he didn’t run despite the floods of tears and has generally handled the whole thing well. Which is what I am coming to expect from him. The next day I was a wreck, both hungover and dehydrated and terribly depressed and I begged the Knight to come and just hold me, and he, bless his boots, obliged. By the end of the day I managed to get myself to my new dance class.
Yes, I am back in dance class. It’s street jazz this time, so I dream of Channing all over my Tatum as it were, and it’s a lot more intense than salsa was. It helps that it’s partnerless and they do a lot of toning and training exercises. It’s annoying that it’s filled with schoolkids and thus the teaching style involves a lot of yelling out the count loud enough to keep the instructors happy and saying yes I love my dance class, no it’s not calculus. But it’s worth it for the workout. Now if only I remember to practise myself all the time. Ahem.
I’m also back in the gym, the poky one in the basement of the office, with colleague and dear friend 2B1M (which is out catch phrase because we often act like two bodies one mind), who also keeps me from eating too many parathas and generally responds kindly to desperate wails when I’m tempted to eat badly.
And I now have a cook, which means I am eating a lot of dal subzi bleh, but it’s healthy, homemade and THERE. I cannot begin to express the joy of crawling up the stairs at 8pm after dance class and only needing to pull things out of the fridge and eat.
I have also decided that, having spent all of the year being a lush, it is time to cut back, if only to prove that I can–to myself and my various detractors (that’s the Knight, the Glare and the Wise One). I now drink only wine, in small quantities and only occasionally. Let us see if this lasts through October.
One of the reasons I decided to cut back on the booze was of course that it’s a depressant and generally caused me to get broody and susceptible to triggers, but in fact I have had four meltdowns in two weeks, which is a very bad frequency. These days though I just call the parents and sob about having no point and why does it matter, why do I need to stay when I’m so unhappy and I’m so TIRED of this constant litany of positivity I have to keep running all the time. Today seems to be better than most days this month but I have come to view good days with suspicion because they seem to trick me into believing I might make it out and then I crash.
Of course I also hadn’t seen Shrink in three weeks, but somehow our session last week was not as helpful as I’d imagine, and Sunday was the fourth of my meltdowns this month.
I’ve noticed I have an increasing reluctance to leave my house, go to work, make an effort to see people, and sometimes even leave my room. I worry about what this means, because I have already seen myself go from sunny and cheerful to strained and holding myself together with fingernails and no hope–can I lose the only good thing left of my old self, the gregariousness?
In other news I had two spectacular dates this month, only neither was a date. You seem puzzled. I just meant that twice I have spent a long evening with a single guy, just us, with conversation that just flowed seamlessly, and an excellent meal and much comfortable pleasantness–mellow laughter and gentle debate. The sort of evening I’d be up all night gushing to girlfriends about if it were a guy who was into me. But neither was. Still, they were wonderful evenings and certainly made me much happier.
One of the things I have come to realise in my exercise to envision an alternate future for me, one without husband and children and home and hearth, is that I have never had a passion for any kind of work. Work has always been something to occupy myself until I could get to the real thing I wanted to do, have a family. My current job is nice; I’m good at it; they love me and I can see myself working here forever; but it cannot take up a large place in my life. I do not worry how I can make it better, and it does not make me HAPPY. Perhaps one way to make this better is to just find a way to connect to it more strongly.
During one of my meltdowns I said to the Knight and to 2B1M that tomorrow, if i went away, it wouldn’t make too much of a difference to anyone’s life. The Knight yelled at me and told me that his life would fucking change, as did 2B1M, and I was roundly scolded for daring to think I would not be missed. What they didn’t get (well 2B1M did when I explained and I didn’t try to explain to the Knight) is very simply that of course they would miss me, of course I am important. But everyone in my life has always moved on, to other jobs, cities, husbands, wives, children. And all the focussed attention and time I got from them is reduced. When I do see them it is as important and intense, but it’s less time, which means there are now holes in my people love me time. It doesn’t mean they love me less or I love them less. It just means I have less active love coming in. And so I must set out again to find more friends only for them to move on too. Ad infinitum ad nauseam. Secondly, all your coupled people, wherever you go, however might you fight and bicker and are frustrated, you have a constant. The only constant in my life is Apollo. (Well my parents, but they’re long distance.) So you kinda have a constant and reliable backup source of active love if you’re running low.
I’m also really beginning to get tired of how I have to constantly defend my need for companionship. Is it because those who have it take it so much for granted? Does no one remember what it was like to be lonely and tired and want to have someone at your side? (Yes I know it’s not always; yes I know you fight. That’s not the point and you know it.) And also constantly beat off this dismissal: Oh come on you’re just 31. I have no words for people so stupid they can’t see the realities of the market in India, and then think I’m so stupid I say things like that without thinking about ti carefully.
Okay, I think that’s about it for my straight up semi-stream-of-consciousness dump.