I've been thinking about an ended relationship lately. It was a relationship I ended, that I had good reasons to end, and that I still think should lay dead in the dirt. What I didn't really expect was the sense of loss I would have.
If you are a somewhat regular reader of my blog here, you may remember the many references to my best friend, or "platonic life partner (PHP)" as I often referred to her. That person is no longer in my life. I won't go into any details here, because some people may know her, and my reasons for ending the friendship are my own. What I will say is that I burnt that bridge; I blew the damn thing to smithereens and watched as the embers burned to ash. I wasn't particularly nice about it. I wanted it to burn.
I knew that this friendship needed to end, and I knew that if I was kind when severing ties there would be a fairly sure chance that I would find myself in the friendship again. So I made it hurt; not for me, but for her. I said some good things, and all of what I said had good intentions somewhere behind them, but I knew some ways of saying things that were sure to ignite red hot anger and maybe even hatred. When you are close to someone for a long time, you learn what actions and words will ignite certain feelings, and during the friendship you work to be sure that you aren't using this power for evil. Since I saw the friendship as over, I decided that I needed to use whatever means necessary to keep myself safe from a friendship relapse. And I don't regret it; at least, not all of it. I wish I hadn't needed to be mean and that the friendship hadn't dissolved to where it had, and I don't necessarily like that I am someone who intentionally tried to hurt someone else.
It's been roughly five months since that all happened. I now feel the loss. I miss her two children like crazy, and I wonder if they ever think of me. I think of holding them as babies, playing with them, reading to them, hugging them, and laughing with them. I even miss the times I helped to discipline them or support her while she was dealing with problem behaviors. I wonder how they are doing, who they are around, how are they being influenced to act and behave, who is influencing them? It's a by-product of the ended friendship that I will not know more of these children that have a special place in my heart, reserved only for them.
I also miss the dogs. Dog #1 was amazing beyond words, and loved me without question. Dog #2 had such potential, needed so much love, and in her puppy way tried to be all that dog #1 is.
So that is where I am at right now. I've never really had to deal with the loss of a person that I willingly turned away from, and I have to admit that I miss things connected with that person more than the person herself. The things that made me leave are still there, still valid, and barring an almost complete change in the other person, my decision remains the right one . Someday, hopefully, the bad memories will fade and I will remember more of the good, and I will be able to forgive so that I can hold no ill-feelings in myself.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Monday, December 26, 2011
Glimpsing Some Light
I survived my first Christmas away from my family.
Even writing that sentence fills me with amazement. That definitely is not what I had envisioned happening, and certainly not as a single woman. Ah, but therein lies the key; I was not really single this Christmas. As always, my Savior was with me. Also, despite my destitute lack of ability to give gifts, I was able to recieve in abundace with humbleness. I am lucky to live with the friends I do, people who care enough about me to love me despite my depressing, oppositional, and at times completely senseless behavior.
I think that it is hard to see myself as loveable most of the time. I really am quite a needy person. I need to hear that I am loved or missed quite often before I will allow myself to believe what seems to me an impossibility. I have a hard time interpreting actions towards me as signs of love and kindness, and will often interpret them as pity or people merely "putting up with me". If I were to sit and really give it a thought, I would most likely come up with a longer list of people who care for me than I would think possible. I should probably actually do that, as it would also serve to remind me of the need to tell other people that I care about them and miss them, too. I could be an awfully mushy person if I let myself.
Well, if you get an email, facebook message, letter, note, postcard, text, phone call, or some sort of communication from me, feel special. It means that I have stepped out of myself for a moment to actually communicate the feelings I keep inside. I do have quite a few stamps and ample time while recovering from my back being a jerk, plus I am learning how to make fun things with yarn. This could be awesome.
Even writing that sentence fills me with amazement. That definitely is not what I had envisioned happening, and certainly not as a single woman. Ah, but therein lies the key; I was not really single this Christmas. As always, my Savior was with me. Also, despite my destitute lack of ability to give gifts, I was able to recieve in abundace with humbleness. I am lucky to live with the friends I do, people who care enough about me to love me despite my depressing, oppositional, and at times completely senseless behavior.
I think that it is hard to see myself as loveable most of the time. I really am quite a needy person. I need to hear that I am loved or missed quite often before I will allow myself to believe what seems to me an impossibility. I have a hard time interpreting actions towards me as signs of love and kindness, and will often interpret them as pity or people merely "putting up with me". If I were to sit and really give it a thought, I would most likely come up with a longer list of people who care for me than I would think possible. I should probably actually do that, as it would also serve to remind me of the need to tell other people that I care about them and miss them, too. I could be an awfully mushy person if I let myself.
Well, if you get an email, facebook message, letter, note, postcard, text, phone call, or some sort of communication from me, feel special. It means that I have stepped out of myself for a moment to actually communicate the feelings I keep inside. I do have quite a few stamps and ample time while recovering from my back being a jerk, plus I am learning how to make fun things with yarn. This could be awesome.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Prayer. Oh, Prayer.
The Bible says to pray without ceasing and to pray with complete faith that your prayer will be answered, but I don't think I'm all that sure about how that goes. I have a really hard time concentrating when I'm praying by myself, especially when I'm alone. Sometimes it's actually better in a crowded room of people, but I feel like either way there's a lot of doubt involved in my praying.
I'm not sure how to really explain my prayer situations, but I'll try to anyway. Picture me sitting in my room, usually on my bed, somtimes sitting on the floor or kneeling. I've at least put my phone on silent and at a distance from me, so I won't pick it up if it happens to move. Sometimes I just shut the sound and vibrate off so that there is nothing to hear. I try to get rid of any books, noise, annoying smells, or images so that I can focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I turn off the lights, sometimes I turn them all on. I then start to talk to God using my head instead of my voice. Then I hear a car go by, or a cat meow, a dog bark, the wind whistle, sirens, someone in the other room, someone in another apartment, doors closing and opening, and absolutely any sound that can possibly be heard by the human ear. That's when my mind starts to follow these sounds and drifts off into bunny trails of thought while I'm "talking" to God.
Now, if I can catch myself quick enough, I will usually try to pray out loud, but I end up tripping on my words and feeling like God and I are having a really weird coffee date, especially if I'm in my pajamas laying in bed. The prayer usually ends shortly after I open my mouth, thus ending my tries at praying without ceasing.
It's always been nice at church when the pastor gives the congregation that time for...I can't remember the specific wording...I guess it would be "silent contemplation and prayer". I love these times. I feel like I can just pray away in my head, and even if I hear the annoying noises or smell the annoying smells, I just make them a part of my prayer. However, if you've ever been to church and the pastor has given this time, you know that it lasts less than 5 minutes; this short of a time span has never been adequate for me to finish searching my soul to contemplate and pray. I usually end with a quick. "We'll pick this up later. Love you," before re-joining everyone in a group prayer.
Above all of this is the doubt. Somtimes while I am praying, and almost always after I am finished, I am immediately swarmed with doubt. Did I ask for the right thing? Did I ask enough? Did I ask too much? Was I trying to inforce my own will upon God? Should I ask for that? Did I say thanks enough? Maybe I should have said thank you for more things that I asked for? This is really just scratching the surface of the self questioning that happens, and it seems to be the complete opposite of what the bible calls for. I think what I want would feel a lot like this looks:
I'm not sure how to really explain my prayer situations, but I'll try to anyway. Picture me sitting in my room, usually on my bed, somtimes sitting on the floor or kneeling. I've at least put my phone on silent and at a distance from me, so I won't pick it up if it happens to move. Sometimes I just shut the sound and vibrate off so that there is nothing to hear. I try to get rid of any books, noise, annoying smells, or images so that I can focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I turn off the lights, sometimes I turn them all on. I then start to talk to God using my head instead of my voice. Then I hear a car go by, or a cat meow, a dog bark, the wind whistle, sirens, someone in the other room, someone in another apartment, doors closing and opening, and absolutely any sound that can possibly be heard by the human ear. That's when my mind starts to follow these sounds and drifts off into bunny trails of thought while I'm "talking" to God.
Now, if I can catch myself quick enough, I will usually try to pray out loud, but I end up tripping on my words and feeling like God and I are having a really weird coffee date, especially if I'm in my pajamas laying in bed. The prayer usually ends shortly after I open my mouth, thus ending my tries at praying without ceasing.
It's always been nice at church when the pastor gives the congregation that time for...I can't remember the specific wording...I guess it would be "silent contemplation and prayer". I love these times. I feel like I can just pray away in my head, and even if I hear the annoying noises or smell the annoying smells, I just make them a part of my prayer. However, if you've ever been to church and the pastor has given this time, you know that it lasts less than 5 minutes; this short of a time span has never been adequate for me to finish searching my soul to contemplate and pray. I usually end with a quick. "We'll pick this up later. Love you," before re-joining everyone in a group prayer.
Above all of this is the doubt. Somtimes while I am praying, and almost always after I am finished, I am immediately swarmed with doubt. Did I ask for the right thing? Did I ask enough? Did I ask too much? Was I trying to inforce my own will upon God? Should I ask for that? Did I say thanks enough? Maybe I should have said thank you for more things that I asked for? This is really just scratching the surface of the self questioning that happens, and it seems to be the complete opposite of what the bible calls for. I think what I want would feel a lot like this looks:
So if you read this, and you have any advice whatsoever on the topic, I beg of you to comment. If you know me, send me a message. Anything. Oh, and if you happen to know if there's any way of being sure that you are hearing God and not your own personal desires, that would be super cool. I seem to have forgotten things I thought I knew.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Sometimes Going Forward Requires Taking a Step Back
If I have any wisdom to dispense to anyone, it is the following:
1. Pretending to be happy is absolutely exhausting. If you aren't happy, don't try to fake it, things will only get hurt. Rather, you need to be honest about what you are feeling and search everywhere you can for someone who is willing and able to listen to you and/or help you.
2. If you are depressed - so depressed that you can't get out of bed and do the simplest acts, like bathing yourself - don't think it can't get any worse. It can. I would recommend reminding yourself that it can get worse. Don't imaging specific scenarios or tell yourself that there are other people out there who have it worse off than you; that will get you to obsess about the negative possibilities or feel tremendous guilt over not being involved in social justice issues. Those things don't matter. Getting out of bed matters. Why? Because it can get worse, and it will if you stay in bed.
3. If you have hit that moment where killing yourself sounds like the best idea possible, when you are even imagining killing yourself just to stay calm, dont' actually try to kill yourself. I really want this one to be clear; it ties in with #2 up there. If you try to kill yourself and do not succeed (and lets face it, you're depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so your chances of success in this venture are actually quite lower than you realize) you will find that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined.
You see, the people you already alienated by listening to the negative voice in your head saying, "No one likes me. Poor me," actually do like you, or at least did when you weren't stewing in your own mental anguish, and they're going to be pretty pissed off that you tried to kill yourself. I know this seems far fetched, but they will be hurt and angry with you. The real downside of this is that you are going to need your family and friends more than you ever have before, because you have fallen off a pretty high cliff and are now trying to find a foothold in roaring rapids. There is no way you will get better by yourself, but you are going to have to grip a wet and slippery rock so you can drag your sorry ass out of the water long enough to wave for help with a white flag of surrender. In order to get the help you need, you are going to have to find some way to show people that you want to live and that you have a sincere wish to change. Then you are going to have to wait for them to believe it.
Why am I sharing all of this? Because I'm still dealing with the fallout of trying to kill myself (obviously I was depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so by chances of success in that venture were actually quite lower than I realized, and I failed). I went to the hospital, made choices based on emotions and what I thought other people wanted me to do, and moved away from my support system (which I had, they were just burnt out and tired). Not only that, I then proceeded to dump the entirety of my crazy onto just two people...which is not a kind thing to do. After trying to be happy in just about every wrong way, I see that I need my friends and family like never before.
So now I seem to have come almost full circle. I can't really do much because my physical health has deteriorated (thanks for slipping again, discs in my back - and also to you fibromyalgia for being the worst you ever have been) and I am so very lonely. All I can think of are hugs from my family, going to church with my sisters, and drinking some Bud Light amongst the best group I ever worked with. I'm coming home, but I don't know when. I still don't have money, and I don't necessarily have a place to live once I get home, yet that would seem to be the place I need to be. Hopefully I can figure this one out soon, and also stop crying every day so I can be a bit more productive.
Oh, and:
4. If your dad has doubts about a life altering decision you are making, listen to him. Good dads are right 99.9999999999999999% of the time, but they can't always swoop in and save you if you make the wrong choice.
1. Pretending to be happy is absolutely exhausting. If you aren't happy, don't try to fake it, things will only get hurt. Rather, you need to be honest about what you are feeling and search everywhere you can for someone who is willing and able to listen to you and/or help you.
2. If you are depressed - so depressed that you can't get out of bed and do the simplest acts, like bathing yourself - don't think it can't get any worse. It can. I would recommend reminding yourself that it can get worse. Don't imaging specific scenarios or tell yourself that there are other people out there who have it worse off than you; that will get you to obsess about the negative possibilities or feel tremendous guilt over not being involved in social justice issues. Those things don't matter. Getting out of bed matters. Why? Because it can get worse, and it will if you stay in bed.
3. If you have hit that moment where killing yourself sounds like the best idea possible, when you are even imagining killing yourself just to stay calm, dont' actually try to kill yourself. I really want this one to be clear; it ties in with #2 up there. If you try to kill yourself and do not succeed (and lets face it, you're depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so your chances of success in this venture are actually quite lower than you realize) you will find that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined.
You see, the people you already alienated by listening to the negative voice in your head saying, "No one likes me. Poor me," actually do like you, or at least did when you weren't stewing in your own mental anguish, and they're going to be pretty pissed off that you tried to kill yourself. I know this seems far fetched, but they will be hurt and angry with you. The real downside of this is that you are going to need your family and friends more than you ever have before, because you have fallen off a pretty high cliff and are now trying to find a foothold in roaring rapids. There is no way you will get better by yourself, but you are going to have to grip a wet and slippery rock so you can drag your sorry ass out of the water long enough to wave for help with a white flag of surrender. In order to get the help you need, you are going to have to find some way to show people that you want to live and that you have a sincere wish to change. Then you are going to have to wait for them to believe it.
Why am I sharing all of this? Because I'm still dealing with the fallout of trying to kill myself (obviously I was depressed to the point of irrational thinking, so by chances of success in that venture were actually quite lower than I realized, and I failed). I went to the hospital, made choices based on emotions and what I thought other people wanted me to do, and moved away from my support system (which I had, they were just burnt out and tired). Not only that, I then proceeded to dump the entirety of my crazy onto just two people...which is not a kind thing to do. After trying to be happy in just about every wrong way, I see that I need my friends and family like never before.
So now I seem to have come almost full circle. I can't really do much because my physical health has deteriorated (thanks for slipping again, discs in my back - and also to you fibromyalgia for being the worst you ever have been) and I am so very lonely. All I can think of are hugs from my family, going to church with my sisters, and drinking some Bud Light amongst the best group I ever worked with. I'm coming home, but I don't know when. I still don't have money, and I don't necessarily have a place to live once I get home, yet that would seem to be the place I need to be. Hopefully I can figure this one out soon, and also stop crying every day so I can be a bit more productive.
Oh, and:
4. If your dad has doubts about a life altering decision you are making, listen to him. Good dads are right 99.9999999999999999% of the time, but they can't always swoop in and save you if you make the wrong choice.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
A Change of Self
I have changed. I thought about going to the last blog post I made, back in the last week of August, so that I could see just how much I had changed, but I decided to get on with writing instead.
It is interesting to note what I see as changes in myself. I can't say that I am happy with each change. I did not expect myself to change in certain ways, and it comes as a surprise to me that I have let things slip through my charachter or personality the way that I have.
I'm not talking as much. Don't get me wrong on this one; I wasn't talking that much when I was back in Nebraska, and I spent most of my time alone watching television. What's different is that I am not talking when I get the chance to talk. I feel that I used to be a bit more free with my words, even if that wasn't always a good thing. Now it seems that I am afraid to speak. I have gone from being a woman who shares her mind and emotions, to a woman who spends her time thinking over how to react appropriately to the emotions of others. I don't believe it's bad to think of the emotions of others, but it has become a single preoccupation of mine. Every look, silence, word, action is heavy with meaning - and it all seems to mean that I have done something inappropriate, hurt someone, or inconvenienced someone. I didn't care quite as much about that before; I was a sort of dominating presence that influenced her needs and wants onto the people around her. I am now dominated far more frequently.
I have also hidden away a part of myself. My spirituality and religion is now at the quietest point it has been since my teen years. It isn't as if I do not acknowledge this part of myself, but that I worry over offending someone else by expressing this part of myself. Most times I find it irritating and the rest of the time I feel highly disappointed in myself. I have to get this back.
I wish there was a way to lay the blame for this on something tangible and present, but it seems to come from the absence of things. Without my family, I no longer feel strong in my identity as a leader; I am no longer the eldest, but the newest. Without a church family I feel adrift and uncertain, lost in a sea of emotion that threatens to make me forget the things I am rationally and logically sure of. Without a community of friends I feel lonely. Without a best friend I feel incomplete.
I suppose that I will need to find out how I will define myself when set apart from all that is familiar and comfortable. Therapy starts next week. Let the ride begin again.
It is interesting to note what I see as changes in myself. I can't say that I am happy with each change. I did not expect myself to change in certain ways, and it comes as a surprise to me that I have let things slip through my charachter or personality the way that I have.
I'm not talking as much. Don't get me wrong on this one; I wasn't talking that much when I was back in Nebraska, and I spent most of my time alone watching television. What's different is that I am not talking when I get the chance to talk. I feel that I used to be a bit more free with my words, even if that wasn't always a good thing. Now it seems that I am afraid to speak. I have gone from being a woman who shares her mind and emotions, to a woman who spends her time thinking over how to react appropriately to the emotions of others. I don't believe it's bad to think of the emotions of others, but it has become a single preoccupation of mine. Every look, silence, word, action is heavy with meaning - and it all seems to mean that I have done something inappropriate, hurt someone, or inconvenienced someone. I didn't care quite as much about that before; I was a sort of dominating presence that influenced her needs and wants onto the people around her. I am now dominated far more frequently.
I have also hidden away a part of myself. My spirituality and religion is now at the quietest point it has been since my teen years. It isn't as if I do not acknowledge this part of myself, but that I worry over offending someone else by expressing this part of myself. Most times I find it irritating and the rest of the time I feel highly disappointed in myself. I have to get this back.
I wish there was a way to lay the blame for this on something tangible and present, but it seems to come from the absence of things. Without my family, I no longer feel strong in my identity as a leader; I am no longer the eldest, but the newest. Without a church family I feel adrift and uncertain, lost in a sea of emotion that threatens to make me forget the things I am rationally and logically sure of. Without a community of friends I feel lonely. Without a best friend I feel incomplete.
I suppose that I will need to find out how I will define myself when set apart from all that is familiar and comfortable. Therapy starts next week. Let the ride begin again.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Jumping off cliffs is good for the soul.
"And this is how I choose to live, as if I'm jumping off a cliff
Knowing that You'll save me, knowing that you'll save me
And after all the stupid things I did, there's nothing left there to forgive
Because You already forgave me, yeah You already forgave me"
That right there is a line from the Relient K song "Death and Taxes." I love Relient K. It seems that one of their albums fits right in with my life at any given time. They get me.
I was thinking about fearlessness today. There is a good reason for this; I went head to head with about a trillion spiders to clean the basement at my Grandmother's house. Now I am by no means afraid of spiders - while living with my mom and younger sisters as a teenager I was the designated killer of anything creepy crawly - but by the time I had vacuumed up my billionth egg sack, I was getting a little paranoid that some huge mama spider was going to magically appear and bite my head off. Yet, I persevered, and my Grandma's basement looks as homey and inviting as it did when I was little.
It's the little victories like the one above that are keeping me going right now. I stand prepared to take a huge leap of faith in my life, and so far my courage hasn't failed me. So far.
I think the hardest thing about leaving will be the separation from my dad and youngest sister. My dad commented on Sunday, in a quiet and sullen way, "I don't want you to go." Talk about having your heart wrenched out and poked with tiny sticks. Dad doesn't share how he's feeling often, but apparently he has even been telling my Grandma that he's already starting to miss me. I can tell that he's trying to stay strong for me, which only makes me love him more. It means a lot that my father is willing to help me do something good for myself at the expense of his own comfort.
My little sister is showing her love in a different way. She clings to me when we are with each other, and demands several hugs before I am allowed to leave her presence. She doesn't want me to leave - unless I take her with me. Someday she'll know that it was primarily for fear of missing out on huge chunks of her growing up that I have stayed here as long as I have. I don't know what it's like to leave a child, but I imagine my feelings about leaving her are very near to the feeling of having to leave one's own child behind.
Despite all of this, I know that I am on the right path. Leaving now is what I need to do in order to restore my sanity, regrow the piece of my heart that was torn away over the past couple of years, and get back to what I know I can be. When I was in the hospital, everyone said it was time to "be selfish" and take care of myself instead of trying to fix/control those around me. Good advice, but hard for someone who looks at selfishness as if it is the worst sin a human could commit. This would be where the fearlessness comes in. In trying something new and different from the way I've always done it, I am throwing caution to the wind and saying that I can forge ahead into the great unknown. There is no room for fear where I am headed; in fact if fear pops up it's ugly head in my way, I'll kill it with the knowledge that I have a safety net. His name is Jesus.
So like the song says, this is how I choose to live. I am making a conscious decision to jump off the cliff that is the dead end my mind brought me to, and trust that I will be saved as I fall. (Side note: That image is totally used in the book "The Silver Chair" when Eustace and Jill have a moment on a clifftop and Aslan helps them to fall to Narnia. C.S. Lewis is awesome)
That's all I have for tonight. More on the morrow.
Knowing that You'll save me, knowing that you'll save me
And after all the stupid things I did, there's nothing left there to forgive
Because You already forgave me, yeah You already forgave me"
That right there is a line from the Relient K song "Death and Taxes." I love Relient K. It seems that one of their albums fits right in with my life at any given time. They get me.
I was thinking about fearlessness today. There is a good reason for this; I went head to head with about a trillion spiders to clean the basement at my Grandmother's house. Now I am by no means afraid of spiders - while living with my mom and younger sisters as a teenager I was the designated killer of anything creepy crawly - but by the time I had vacuumed up my billionth egg sack, I was getting a little paranoid that some huge mama spider was going to magically appear and bite my head off. Yet, I persevered, and my Grandma's basement looks as homey and inviting as it did when I was little.
It's the little victories like the one above that are keeping me going right now. I stand prepared to take a huge leap of faith in my life, and so far my courage hasn't failed me. So far.
I think the hardest thing about leaving will be the separation from my dad and youngest sister. My dad commented on Sunday, in a quiet and sullen way, "I don't want you to go." Talk about having your heart wrenched out and poked with tiny sticks. Dad doesn't share how he's feeling often, but apparently he has even been telling my Grandma that he's already starting to miss me. I can tell that he's trying to stay strong for me, which only makes me love him more. It means a lot that my father is willing to help me do something good for myself at the expense of his own comfort.
My little sister is showing her love in a different way. She clings to me when we are with each other, and demands several hugs before I am allowed to leave her presence. She doesn't want me to leave - unless I take her with me. Someday she'll know that it was primarily for fear of missing out on huge chunks of her growing up that I have stayed here as long as I have. I don't know what it's like to leave a child, but I imagine my feelings about leaving her are very near to the feeling of having to leave one's own child behind.
Despite all of this, I know that I am on the right path. Leaving now is what I need to do in order to restore my sanity, regrow the piece of my heart that was torn away over the past couple of years, and get back to what I know I can be. When I was in the hospital, everyone said it was time to "be selfish" and take care of myself instead of trying to fix/control those around me. Good advice, but hard for someone who looks at selfishness as if it is the worst sin a human could commit. This would be where the fearlessness comes in. In trying something new and different from the way I've always done it, I am throwing caution to the wind and saying that I can forge ahead into the great unknown. There is no room for fear where I am headed; in fact if fear pops up it's ugly head in my way, I'll kill it with the knowledge that I have a safety net. His name is Jesus.
So like the song says, this is how I choose to live. I am making a conscious decision to jump off the cliff that is the dead end my mind brought me to, and trust that I will be saved as I fall. (Side note: That image is totally used in the book "The Silver Chair" when Eustace and Jill have a moment on a clifftop and Aslan helps them to fall to Narnia. C.S. Lewis is awesome)
That's all I have for tonight. More on the morrow.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
So communication is supposed to go two ways?
Well, the waiting is over and the action of getting everything taken care of for the move is upon me. My biggest packing worry is finding another piece of luggage, which should be relatively easy, and washing my clothes before the final day packing. Other than that, I've been thinking a lot of the relationships that will be changing.
I've never been very good at keeping communication going with friendships and family, but I like to think I've been slowly and steadily getting better over the years. I call people back more often, I try to keep in touch through various forms of media, and I even text people back within about a day. These are fantastic strides in my effort to think of other people, which I hope can keep going when the bulk of my friends and family are quite a few states away.
One thing I've had to face recently is the reality of how I've made people feel by unintentionally ignoring them. See, I've found in a couple friendships that I've been putting in a lot more effort than the other person. It can look a lot of different ways; mostly it's little things, like me being the only one making phone calls or plans. Sure the other person will return my calls (sometimes), and they might call to make a change to the plans, but for the most part I'm the one doing the reaching out. To add a little salt to the wound, they'll usually comment on some funny Facebook post or send a trivial text message right as I've decided I'll just give up altogether.
I've said goodbye to one of these friendships, and it felt good to say that I wasn't going to be putting effort into something that wasn't really appreciated and definitely not reciprocated. It made me wonder if maybe some of the blame lay with me. I could have chosen to extend my energy towards those people who were waiting with acceptance and giving hearts, but instead I chose to waste it on people who didn't care as much for me as I thought they did. It makes me feel more than a bit guilty as I sit here and think of relationships lost because I was the one that seemed not to care.
I've decided that from now on, I'm going to try showing as much love as I can to those people who've shown love to me. I'll become a letter writing, emailing, phone calling machine - one that hopefully receives letters, emails, and phone calls as well as putting them out there. I think it will be a good start in getting back to the me that had a big heart and was able to love "even the least of these." I expect that after a time my learned cynicism towards most of mankind will fade away, and I'll be able to replace it with a hefty dose of mercy and grace for my fellow man. And this is just one part of the growing and learning that I hope and believe will happen when I find my way out of this rut and get down to the real business of living.
Now if only I can figure out how to communicate with tact...I'll be golden. Oh, and that friend that you just thought of who you haven't attempted to contact, give them a call - it'll make you feel good.
I've never been very good at keeping communication going with friendships and family, but I like to think I've been slowly and steadily getting better over the years. I call people back more often, I try to keep in touch through various forms of media, and I even text people back within about a day. These are fantastic strides in my effort to think of other people, which I hope can keep going when the bulk of my friends and family are quite a few states away.
One thing I've had to face recently is the reality of how I've made people feel by unintentionally ignoring them. See, I've found in a couple friendships that I've been putting in a lot more effort than the other person. It can look a lot of different ways; mostly it's little things, like me being the only one making phone calls or plans. Sure the other person will return my calls (sometimes), and they might call to make a change to the plans, but for the most part I'm the one doing the reaching out. To add a little salt to the wound, they'll usually comment on some funny Facebook post or send a trivial text message right as I've decided I'll just give up altogether.
I've said goodbye to one of these friendships, and it felt good to say that I wasn't going to be putting effort into something that wasn't really appreciated and definitely not reciprocated. It made me wonder if maybe some of the blame lay with me. I could have chosen to extend my energy towards those people who were waiting with acceptance and giving hearts, but instead I chose to waste it on people who didn't care as much for me as I thought they did. It makes me feel more than a bit guilty as I sit here and think of relationships lost because I was the one that seemed not to care.
I've decided that from now on, I'm going to try showing as much love as I can to those people who've shown love to me. I'll become a letter writing, emailing, phone calling machine - one that hopefully receives letters, emails, and phone calls as well as putting them out there. I think it will be a good start in getting back to the me that had a big heart and was able to love "even the least of these." I expect that after a time my learned cynicism towards most of mankind will fade away, and I'll be able to replace it with a hefty dose of mercy and grace for my fellow man. And this is just one part of the growing and learning that I hope and believe will happen when I find my way out of this rut and get down to the real business of living.
Now if only I can figure out how to communicate with tact...I'll be golden. Oh, and that friend that you just thought of who you haven't attempted to contact, give them a call - it'll make you feel good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)