Funny Girl

I used to be a crack-a-joke-a-minute. It was my thing, what I was known for. My sense of humour carried me through situations like a life jacket that floated me to safety time and time again. It came naturally to me, to be quick witted and funny. I was never sure when I stopped caring. And I was never certain if I had stopped being funny, or if I no longer cared to make other people laugh. Upon meeting people for the first time, I was polite and engaging. But not magentic, not humourous. Not the sort of person to light up a room or be remembered. I was tired, I was drained of my energy just thinking of being that person. And it did not matter to me anymore. I would say the funny things to myself, but never outloud. And never for anyone elses entertainment. Anxiety had stripped me of the bravery to make that cutting remark, or sarcastic quip. But it did not bother me that I wasn't funny anymore. I felt at peace with it, I did not miss her. Which begs the question...which was the "real" me? Perhaps they are both me. Sometimes I find her again, usually in text form, as formidable as face to face jokes might be sometimes its easier to hide behind a screen. If my comedy timing is all wrong at least I can blame technology. The main thing I've noticed is that I simply do not care anymore. That is not to say I don't care what others think of me, its their judgement which slays my ability to be more outgoing. I just stopped caring about being the life and soul.

I was recently given the opportunity to formulate a new friendship. This person was outgoing, hilarious, energetic and magnetic. I found myself wanting to gain an accord, and it was usually found in mutual hilariousness. But I couldn't do it. And surprisingly it didn't seem to matter. I let them take the lead. Aspects of myself began to reveal themselves and as I suspected... we became friends. And I learned that I don't have to reveal all of me to be instantly accepted. Instant gratification is widely thought of as the best thing in the world. I remember gift wrapping all the best parts of me and handing them over to people without a receipt. And there would always be a fear that they would want a refund. I am grateful that I stopped caring, grateful that I was able to keep those pieces of myself back until they were requested or deserved.

It's not just about caging up the Funny Girl. It's not just about reserving her for people I can be myself with. It's about not caring. And not caring can be incredibly cathartic. Not caring is the most difficult thing to acquire within when you are wired up to care, wired up to engage in making others feel loved and accepted. I try hard to never ever make others feel the things I myself fear in the hope that they in return will never ever make me feel left out, judged or abandoned. But we're human and life is not written in ink that is ever bone dry. I used to feel like I was nothing if I was let down. Its probably a normal reaction. Its not normal to me to not care if a friend cancels, or forgets, or unknowingly makes me feel as if I don't matter. Not caring does not mean that you are a bad person. You are no worse than them. And they aren't bad people either. When you stop caring it means you've accepted life is a breeze and it'll change whatever it wants to without a thought for those caught in the wind. For every single one of us. For those who cancel, for those who are cancelled on. For those who are let down, and those who have to let down. If people make a decision that makes you feel worthless, it isn't always because they set out with that in mind. Prioritising is a difficult thing to do. And you aren't always going to be one. Even if you're the life and soul. Even if you're everybody's "go to" person. Learning how not to be is brave. I'm not convinced I have fully given myself over to this ideal, but I want to. I need to take a step back. I am a funny girl. But it'll just take a while to get the joke.

Stay with me.

Cutting Ties

Change is something I have always strived to avoid. Change signalled a turn of events which required new, often negative, connotations. I have perhaps craved stability more than I would like to admit. And in the course of that craving I have come to view change and loss as one and the same. What I did not realise is that without it we are stagnant and remain forever floating in the arrid waters of the same pond. On the outset it appears idyllic, but take a closer look and there is always room for improvement. I have remained in failing relationships because the thought of rearranging my every day life is beyond my comprehension. I have clung to friendships which have served me no purpose and brought me nothing but stress and disturbances of my peace because I have feared the social stigma it would bring if I let it go, despite the fact the knife was already between my shoulder blades. I've kept my mouth shut when I should have spoken, and spoken when I should have kept my mouth shut in varying situations where I've tried to avoid anything from changing. But there is no book without flowing chapters, as I have said before. There is no story if we remain stuck on the same page. Change is as vital as each breath we take. And as negative as they may appear, I have started to embrace the negativity. Perhaps it will serve me well, in the end, when I am content with what has come to pass. I have covered the positive changes in my previous blog post here. What I've failed to mention is the catharsis which comes from cutting ties. And that it's ok to not only embrace changes which come your way, but create a few of them yourself.

I used to think longevity was the key to success. If a friendship had lasted 16 years then what a triumph it was and a testament to us as individuals. Forget the times there had been betrayals, let downs, and cross words exchanged. If a marriage lasted 5 years, then we could last another 5. Forget the lies, disrespect and blatant lack of love. Longevity does not tick a box that is required for something good. And it does not matter how many years have gone by, or how much someone or something shapes your history, if you must cut them out in order to move forward, then that is a change you must make. And sometimes it comes as a great relief, as if a dark cloud has shifted to make way for the sun. And sometimes it hurts, even though it was necessary it can make for a bittersweet memory. I have discovered a sense of peace of late which has come from removing my heart from a situation in order to be able to make relevant changes if necessary without my soul fatally wounding itself in the process. Perhaps this is the result of a heart which has been burned in too many fires, or a heart which is of a certain age and has gained wisdom in truth. I used to fear cutting ties. As a person I do not enjoy inciting hurt in others, nor do I take joy from the failed relationship or endeavour. But some people do. Some people do not care if they hurt you, nor do they think of the implications of cutting you out of their lives. Why would doing that to someone, knowing how it feels to be on the receiving end, be something you could do in all good conscience?

Humanity is a spectrum so far and wide there is no beginning and no end. And to question it too deeply always seems to leave me empty and bleak. How could I cut someone out of my life knowing how desolate it feels to be cut out myself? Because I have learned the art of self preservation. That joyous thing we seldom give ourselves over to. Self preservation sits in a very awkward corner that sometimes wears the mask of being self absorbed and noncholant. If I have to force it, then it does not belong with me. If I have to watch it walk away from me, then it is not mine to keep. If I feel like it has a grip on me that I do not want or need, then I must cut the tie. And its ok. Because we are none of us immortal. We all have a deathbed waiting for us, as grim as the thought may be. But in truth, I have reached a point in my life where being aware of this small matter brings about a serenity regarding letting go. I will not mourn my best friend that hurt me, nor the marriage that failed, nor the people who used me and betrayed me when my time is done. They wont matter, the situations will be buried, and then so will I. And just like that all my choices will have no meaning, save for the fact that if they were the best I could make, then I will have gone to my deathbed with a sense of contentment rarely found if I had kept things which were not meant for me. I embrace the strength of not knowing where my choices will take me, only the feeling of knowing they are right. And if that is the only thing I know, then I have lived a life well indeed. I mourn that it has taken me over 30 years to reach this conclusion but some of us are better off late than never.

My anxiety has always been tamed by organisation and familiarity. Knowing when things will happen and being in full control of them has always been a comfort to me. Making decisions which might bring about significant changes in my life has always kept me awake at night. The replaying of scenarios like movie scenes, hoping and praying it goes as I expect it will and yet hoping it doesn't. It does not matter the manner of how you take the knife, all that matters is that you cut...and cut deeply and completely. Leaving tiny strands connected only serves to bridge the heartache. I think sometimes this is the hardest part of all. Collateral damage. Connections are not genuine if you have not touched the other people around you...and them. But self preservation is not possible without it, in my opinion. Anxiety loves to wonder what is being said behind your back, and the collateral damage will discuss.

Breathe. Keep going. Breathe again. Keep going. Another breath. People will talk. People will hurt. They will hurt you, and you will hurt them. In all our connected processes we are just peaking and troughing and sometimes you meet people who are peaking at the same time. Sometimes you meet people who are troughing at the same time. And sometimes you have to let them go when your directions begin to shift. And its always ALWAYS ok to do that.

Stay with me.