I should really get up. Rolling over to my phone, checking what hour it is on this winter morning, my mind is already buzzing with all of the things I need to do.
Visit Home Depot to price out parts for a-frame. Get cash from the bank to pay my six-day late rent. Pickup garbage bags so I can throw out the Tonk’s old litter box. Play GTA5 to escape this sometimes senseless world.
But instead, I find myself already flicking through Instagram. And posting. A photo from New Year’s Eve of my oldest best friend and I. We just rolled over our tenth or eleventh friendaversary. While we were away in Montreal, sipping beers and doing shots in downstairs bars, I met his girlfriend.
And I met her laugh. You know when you hear one of those laughs that’s so god-damned contagious, that you can’t help but know she’s a happy and beautiful soul. One of those laughs where your mouth instinctually curls up to join in the happiness, even if you’re not a generally happy person.
It was absolutely a delight meeting her and partying with the both of them. I, too, had my then girlfriend with me. On the tail-end of an East Coast road trip, our short but intense relationship came to an end on New Year’s Day. I’ll miss her, and I can say that I loved and lost. But sometimes two stories just don’t mesh.
I like to believe that with enough elbow grease and openness, anything is possible. Women presidents, consensual polyamory, everyone having the necessities of life. In this moment in my life, elbow grease isn’t enough.
So as I flick through Instagram, post a selfie, check up on its immediately likes and follows – hey I need that instant gratification – I find myself meandering to Tinder on my phone. Well, installing it again, and then meandering. Now single, what’s to say a conversation with a complete conversation might fuel this day. And sure enough, in minutes, there’s a message from a girl in Vegas. Hey Tinder, what the fuck. I’m not local to Vegas. Oh, right, I was in Vegas a month ago, and that’s the last known location it has for me. Right. So hey girl. Yeah, I’m not actually Tindering at 5am your time. It’s 8am where I’m at. Oh yeah, you’re an abuse counsellor? Cool! So do you always work at this hour in Vegas….?
Snooze. I’ve got no game. Her profile says she has a boyfriend, and while she’s cute and all, there’s nothing more coming than idle chit chat. Or so says my brain.
Once upon a time, I saw this as an opportunity. There’s a human, already engaged in conversation that I get to learn all about. I get to learn about them. What a privilege.
At this moment, I don’t feel that way. Learning about people brings with it expectations, lateral understandings of who you think they might be, and almost certain disappointment because you’re assuming that they will act or do things a certain way.
That’s bullshit. Stop learning people. Let people do their thing and just remark in the neat shit they do.
Oh hey, the oldest bestfriend liked the selfie. That’s nice.
Flicking over to SMS, I send a quick hey to the other bestie. Miss your face.
No response. She’s now happily in a relationship with this amazing human being. Who I haven’t met yet, but I totally will when she’s ready.
Hmm, both besties waited until at least 3+ months to intro me to their significant others… I wonder if they’re ashamed of me?
That, right there, is OCD. Leave it and carry on.
Now that I’m back in Instagram, I see a post from someone I care dearly about. It’s full of proverbial good vibes about self care, zen, and some other Buddhist philosophies. I love this. I love these “girl, you love yourself, you love yourself so hard” posts. But why am I still dragging my ass in bed, as I stare whimsically at a photo of some spa up in the mountains.
It’s a frame of mind. Your friends are busy living their lives. The way they think you’re busy living yours. They’re in love. They’re grinding. They’re getting at their life and living it the best they can. And they think you’re doing the same.
You just came back from Halifax and Montreal. A month ago you were in Las Vegas. You’ve spent the last year jumping from relationship to relationship. And you battled through and present as recovered from a major psychotic break. You have a warm house, an Instagram feed full of good times, a nice car, and you’re always on the go.
Yeah, Annie, you’re at that stage in life where everyone has something or someone they are running to.
And you’re not running.
But it’s a state of mind. Sitting still. Wallowing. Hurting. It is all in your mind.
I wonder how many people have to cognitively stop their thoughts because they run rampant? I wonder how many people pep talk themselves out of bed just to shower. All right. Let’s do this.
Turn on the tap. Let the water run hot. Hit the fan button for 10 minutes – that should be enough. And hop in.
“What can I do to push myself forward? What can I do that will get me through this?”
And as I shave the little stubble that’s presented itself under my arms, a commitment is made to write.
With a 5-year Q&A A Day Journal to my right, as well as a graphic novel called Marbles by Ellen Forney, I sit here. Sipping away on some sort of Dragon Spice Chai tea a very good friend and co-working of mine gave me for 25 days of Chai leading up to Christmas, I’m thankful for the clack of the keyboard.
I’m thankful for my cat cozied up on a Batman blanket.
I’m thankful that I have friends.
I’m thankful for the Tinder match that just popped up on my phone.
I’m thankful for the TreeCo. watch waiting to be back on my wrist when I’m done this.
With my Sharpie Pen at the ready, I flip open the Q&A journal. January 6 – Today was tough because….
Well, dear reader, today only started. Today was tough, because I’m not isolated but I feel it. Today was tough because I’ve fallen in love repeatedly but feel unlovable, even though I know I have been loved deeply by others. Today was tough because I’m pursuing new job opportunities even though I love the place I work. Today was tough because I’m reminiscing.
But today will be amazing because I’m so thankful that I can reminisce.
It’s this phase in life that I get to make memories, reminisce on memories, and be proud of the people I love for making their own memories. Even when I feel left out, I still have the power to be proud.
It’s a frame of mind.
Orange & Ginger 