Mama Bean feels like something has to give, relationally

 

When I posted this on facebook, it got a lot of traction. Something about this sentiment seems to resonate. It certainly does with me.

There are two sides to this. On the one hand, heart-achingly, there are those people that you want to want to be in your life; you want them to find a way. And for whatever reason, they aren't (wanting) or they don't (find a way). It's hard to accept that. It's hard to feel unwanted. It's hard to stop investing in people that don't want to invest in you.

It's hard for me to stop investing in people who don't want to invest in me.

On the other hand, it must be acknowledged that we are all probably this person, this person who is not doing the wanting or the finding a way-ing, for someone else. They are wanting us, but for whatever reason, we don't reciprocate.

Someone heart-achingly thinks of me when they read this.

I mean, it's hard to throw myself a pity parade where I get all the pity prizes because Everybody Is A Jerk, when in all likelihood, I am the Jerk in another person's parade two streets over...

Whatever. Something in my life has to give, relationally. If this is the place where I try to put into words what I don't know how to put into words, welp, that is as far as I can get. Something has to give. Because I am tired of feeling this pit in my stomach when I read this phrase. I have to find a better dance to this song.

The people who want to be in my life will always find a way. Okay. So I need to remain open and welcoming, so it's not like some freaky uphill battle to find a way into my life. But I don't need to be so open and so welcoming that my heart is trampled and I feel like shit. Okay.

I will find a way into the lives I want to be in. Okay. So I have to extend myself into the world, and demonstrate my willingness to finding the proverbial way. But if I encounter some freaky uphill battle, I have to understand that's not the right way? Or not the right person. That second option hurts more, but it's best to cut my losses, yeah? Sure.

I guess I have to get better at seeing when my Open and Welcoming is meeting up with another person's Extending. YayConnection! And if my Open and Welcoming is met with disdain, I have to stop and walk away. And if my Extending is met with Closed and Unwelcoming, I have to stop and walk away. It's the YayConnections that will get us somewhere, yes? Okay.

Anyway, this all feels really super basic when I write it out like this, but whatever. I have to do this, break it down to some essential sort of metric, and then apply the metric to my real life, and go from there. I realize it may be super neurotic to do it this way, but my neuroses only live in my head, and on my blog (ha!) So it's all okay, I promise. Everything is going to be okay. But something still has to give.

The people who want to be in your life will always find a way...

Mama Bean doesn't understand why we say someone "lost their life"

How does a person "lose" their life, anyway?

Does it fall away silently, like a mitten tucked under an arm while performing an intricate task, unnoticed until frozen fingers wonder where it went? And then it's long gone, blocks back, hidden by slush and snow piles...

Is it forgotten, like that special card with the heartfelt note, stashed in a box or a folder, somewhere safe, always somewhere safe? But then the safe place is reorganized, shuffled to a different corner of the filing cabinet, the closet, the basement...

Is it forgotten, like a phone number or an address, scribbled on a scrap of paper, on a receipt for gas, on an envelope from yet another pre-approved credit card offer that noone needs, because we've all got all the credit cards we need? And then the scrap is folded too small, crumpled too roughly, ignored and swept up, in the unending detritus of daily life...

People don't just lose their lives. There's always a process, an event; for lack of a better word, there's a reason, even if we don't know it, can't see it, won't accept it.

It would make more sense to say I lost their life. It is me who has lost the life of that person, that person I loved. It is I who didn't hear them slip away silently from wherever I had tucked them into my life, while I went about whatever I found so important. It is I who tried to stash them somewhere safe and protected, and allowed that false sense of security to excuse my inattention. It is I who hastily wrote them in and out of my thoughts, remembering then forgetting to send a birthday card, a thank you note, a Christmas letter. Until there were no more cards or letters to send.

It is we who remain that lose the lives of those who die.

And indeed, we are lost without them.

Mama Bean gets it together

Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking.

But it can't. I can't. I have to hold it together. 

You know how you have little phrases or catchwords that come in and out of your life. When Grey's Anatomy first started, we all started saying "Seriously? Seriously??" (And then everyone else stopped, and I keep doing it. I will never stop saying srsly...) I picked up "It's not the end of the world" from a friend, and it has replaced "It is what it is" for me, which is good. I also picked up Ridiculous somewhere, everything is Ridiculous, if I don't have the words, it's Ridiculous. I'm getting tired of it. By the time I start hearing my own verbal -isms, I know they're probably on their way out. (Except for srsly, I will never quit you srsly...) 

Lately, it's been "Get it together!" For everything. Food's not cooking right, I say to the pan, getittogether. Kids not kidding right, I tell them to getittogether. Mama Bean not mamaing right (which means yelling, or snapping, or hiding in the basement, or hiding with the dishes, or yelling some more, or hiding in the bathroom, or hiding in the bathroom cleaning the bathroom, or hiding in the bathroom cleaning the bathroom crying by the toilet because there has been toomuchyellingalreadytoday) I tell myself, unkindly and without grace, Get it the fuck together MB.

And I mean it's not just the kids. It's the housework. It's Making Christmas Happen. It's we're-still-not-at-a-church-and-now-I-actually-miss-it. It's a lot of things. It's my best friend lives 7 hours away and noone understands me like her. It's being on my period, the bulliest bully of a period that crams five days of bleeding into one horrible day from hell. It's a lot of things. It's so many things I could complain about for hours and hours. And you could, too. Right?

Fuck, I cannot be the only one. I know I am not the only one.

So.

Your heart may be breaking, too. But you are holding it together. Just like me.

Listen, I didn't want to write a depressing post today. I didn't! I am actually doing better, in all things Depression related. I'm reading a Book with Real Advice and Techniques and Things That Help, seriously! I am regulating my emotions better. Since the crying-by-the-toilet incident, I have resisted the downward spiral, I have not yelled (as much), I have been present and patient, I have been Good! And I'm not even, like, white-knuckling-gritted-teething it. I feel much more clear, truly.

But tonight I just feel like my heart my break (so maybe I'm gritted-teething it more than I admitted, even to myself, but I don't think so. I really don't.) I think I'm a bit confused about how the next few months are going to look, and I feel a bit lost about it? 

Anyway, I'm going to go getittogether. Hopefully tomorrow arrives bright and sunny. For us all.