Feelin' Like Huck Finn in Girl's Skin

There's something intrinsic in me that makes me like doing my own thing on my own time in my own manner, uninhibited and unfettered (adj.: free, unrestrained) by anything. It's fun when other people with the same inclinations join in—also independent and adventurous. The spontaneity builds.

As I was walking home from work yesterday, I traded out my business shoes for brown, frayed flip flops, and thought "these are so much more me. Business clothes are not me. Being a business person is not me." The fun thing about the business clothes is that people think I'm one way by first impression, but I'm not, and the sociologist in me loves experiencing the misconception. 

As I was walking away in my freeing foot covering, I could picture myself in jeans frayed at the bottom with my flip flops thrown on a bank, wading a river because I want to, because it struck my fancy a millisecond before that it might be fun. When I let my ideas take over, this excitement bubbles up and takes on a life of its own, sometimes only evident by the gleam in my eye.

Back to the Business of Being Me 

The past two and a half years have been awesome. I've had hard times (unemployment), but I remember thinking how much I loved my life and I loved my roommates and I loved being me (if only I could get Bassett to move back! Wendy's a lost cause at this point). I used to get on the metro and think, "man, these people look so sad. Life can be rough." They looked like they had little black clouds over their heads, and I felt for them, but I was grateful it wasn't me! (Is that selfish?) 

Then a couple Tuesdays ago, I had a black cloud over my head. For the first time in a long time, I felt next to normal; I was seriously hurting—and it persisted. It was heavy, intense, and constant. It wasn't something I could shake. But it's taught me empathy. I feel like I've learned volumes—not just relating to this specific life experience—and life lessons have just been poured into my brain. It was hard, but I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I'll never ask for it again either. That stuff is rough!

As I've thought over my experience, I've looked back and seen so many places where I could have been helping hands to people, and I wasn't. I don't think I understood hurt, or at least I forgot what it was like to hurt. What persists in my mind is all of the people I know who are going through trials that I don't understand: my former boss whose husband is dying; my friend who unknowingly became an illegal alien and is now stuck; my friends who have broken off engagements; someone I dated who told me the breakup was really hard, and I wasn't sympathetic; a friend who has grappled with long-term depression; and all this I just didn't understand.

Thank goodness the black cloud has turned into a gray mist. And mists are pretty. You know you're coming out of it, and the sunlight reflects in beautiful and unique ways. I've been a pretty selfish person internally and so insular (adj.: characteristic of an isolated people; especially : being, having, or reflecting a narrow provincial viewpoint), and I've decided it's time to serve in a capacity I've never served before. 

I'm excited to have crazy adventurous ideas again and go exploring because I want to and do my own thing because I'm curious about life and dream up exotic exploritory travels and talk to my friends for hours and act on my spontaneous ideas and dance in my room with all my intensity and walk new neighborhoods because they're fun to see; I'm excited to get back to the business of being me—a better me.

Testing, Testing—1, 2, 3

I've noticed a trend with girls who have been in relationships that just aren't right. When the relationship is over, and they are healing, they say, "I'm starting to feel like myself again," often implying they couldn't be themselves when in the relationship. I think this in and of itself is a sign that it wasn't right. Authenticity (noun: true to one's own personality, spirit, or character) is where it's at. We tend to hold back in relationships, but it's not worth it. Be true to yourself. If they like you great; they like you for who you are, and that's the goal. If not, it's not worth continuing because there's a better fit out there.

Every now and again I test my emotional health—when I think I can hack it. Initially, it's important to detach completely. If I don't, I don't heal quickly and (more) easily. But then there comes a time where I want to know where I am—really. There are a couple tests for that. The hardest is picturing him flirting or on a date with a girl you could tell he was attracted to. Yikes. It is a rough test and reminds me of the first time I went through a breakup in high school. The song, "It Makes Me Ill" by N'Sync comes to mind. But I want you to know, that at least in theory, I've past the test a few times, and I'm feeling okay.

The second test isn't one that's easily controlled. It's when your heart is finally attracted to someone else. I believe strongly in locking the heart when dating someone. If there's attraction for someone else, avoid it completely, and be true to the person you're dating. But then there comes a day when you're not in a relationship anymore. And you can be attracted to other people. And then you are. It kind of happened last night. There's a guy someone told me was interested in me, and he got my number. He's definitely the type of guy I could be interested in, but it's still a little too soon to tell, and my heart's still weak, but when he came back into the room once, my heart responded. And I could tell I'm on the path to recovery!

How to Survive a Breakup

I'm not an expert on breaking up, but I have a little bit of experience. I think this is number eight officially and number who knows what unofficially, so here's my advice:
 

• Pray, pray, pray. There is nothing more important than communicating with the Lord and asking for very, very specific help. And He will help. Also, don't forget to pray for the other person too! They need just as much help as you do. And be altruistic about it.
• Fast. Just like prayer, this has helped me leaps and bounds. Be specific.
• Read scriptures and conference talks about doing the Lord's will and bearing trials. It helps put and keep things in an eternal perspective. Especially the conference talk http://lds.org/general-conference/2010/04/all-things-work-together-for-good?lang=eng&query=%22all+things+work+together+for+good%22
• Be mature. In more recent breakups, I haven't had this problem, but initially it was easy to blame or be angry, but these are unhealthy thoughts and emotions. Be humble. Do everything you know how to do to be fair to that person because you care about them. 
• Accept how that person feels and how you feel, and move on.
• Keep yourself extremely busy—especially on Friday and Saturday nights, and make sure you don't see him on those nights, or you'll relapse for sure!
• I dated a guy once who had been engaged before. The weekend of the wedding, he realized that it couldn't happen for legit reasons. So he called off the wedding the night before. He told me that what got him through it was staying as busy as possible. Always have something to do.
• Clear your life of things that trigger thoughts about him. I know that's hard to do!—it really is because you care—but do it for your emotional health. You're going to have things that trigger thoughts no matter what, so minimize it. Erase the text messages and voice mails you saved (you know you do it, girls!).
• Listen to Ingrid Michaelson. So that's just my thing, but find music you love, and listen to it a lot.
• Dance like crazy in your room, and go dancing. I think it's one of the best ways to get emotional energy out, and it's fun to be with other people.
• Exercise. This is another important catharsis (noun: a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension)
• Let it hurt. When it hurts, put one foot in front of the other, and keep on going. You'll get through it; it's hard to realize while experiencing it, but pain is an emotion that compresses large lessons into short periods of time, so embrace the learning experience, and try to see it while it's happening.
• Write it all in your journal. You are going to learn so much. Keep those lessons for yourself, and your children, because most likely they are going to go through something similar at one point or another, and you will be so sage if you can relate to them and give them exactly what they need because you've been through it.
• Find out what your boundaries are and what you need in your support network, and ask your friends to help you in the specific areas you know you are weak. If you know it's about to happen, preemptively prepare them so they are ready right away. 
• Keep talking to your closest friends and people you trust about it. Get feedback because often we are so myopic in our perspective.
• Don't look at his Facebook page. When you realize you have the urge to know about him, exercise self control, and don't look for his car, don't look at his window, don't try to talk to his roommates about him, don't try to bump into him randomly, and don't try to find out about him through other people, don't communicate with him initially unless it really will help in the healing process for you or him. But if you do any of these things, don't get mad at yourself; just be stronger next time.
• Don't blame the other person. Don't blame yourself. Trust that you tried your best, and pick yourself up, and move on.
• Don't listen to melancholy music or love songs. Just don't.
• Finally, remember, time heals most things—if you let it.

 

An Ode to Wendy Wittwer Knell 

This will be simple because I have very few words to describe what I feel right now, but I love that woman. It was seeing someone you know well in a new context, where life experience should be separating you, and yet you rediscover that you know and love her for all the reasons you always knew.

And there they were, a newly married couple, so happy, and yet the same people I've known. She's still the same her, just progressed, and David's still the same him, just progressed. And I realized that I miss her. And it was beautiful. 

(So this was not really an ode [noun: a lyric poem usually marked by exaltation of feeling and style, varying length of line, and complexity of stanza form]; but the title just was.)

On Growing Strong

"I can do hard things." I saw that every day for probably a year when I shared a room with Lynn Smart. I didn't realize the power of seeing a printed word consistently. Andrea Bassett told me that she thought of that quote the other day too. We both laughed and said, "that one above Lynn's desk!"

This may sound strange because breakups are hard, but I love what I'm learning from this. I love that it's hard. I love that it hurts. I love that I can see growth in myself. I love that I feel stronger. I love that I lost my phone at the most poignant time and had to grapple (verb: to come to grips with) with everything alone with God. I'm seeing again in myself that I can do hard things. And after this, I will be able to do even harder things.

Logic versus Emotion

Observation #152: It's nice when you make it through phase one of the post-break experience. It's the point where you realize you are going to be fine, and you feel like yourself again. Of course logically you knew all along you'd be fine, but your emotions kept putting your logic in checkmate every other move. 

Initially you think your emotions have nothing on your logic; that's the numb phase right after the break up. You think to yourself, "this is right, and I'm totally fine. I've dealt with this before, and I can do it again." For three or four days, you're fine. Then, bam, the game begins.

Initially your pawns are picked off, then your horse, then—worst of all—your queen. Finally you're down to a mangy (adjective: having many worn or bare spots) team of chess pieces. You're in pretty sad shape. Check. Block. Check. Block. Checkmate? Then you remember the best move—switching the king and the castle. After a small go, game over. Your logic wins, your emotions subside, and you are back.

Truth be told, that move is sincere prayer. I felt His healing power today. The Atonement is real.

Practicality.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm such a realist. And then I remember.

Me: "But, dad, what if I never fall in love?"
Dad: "Then don't get married."

Me: "Mom, there's a huge fire over the ridge that's coming our way. The firefighters can't control it anymore. We're evacuating down to sleep at the chapel!"
Mom: "Okay, well let us know what happens."

Me: "Mom, it hurts so bad. What if I never find someone who has as much charity as Justin?"
Mom: "You probably won't. But maybe you'll find someone else with other qualities."

Me: "Dad, do you have any life advice for me now that I am off my mission?"
Dad: "You have the Spirit. Follow its promptings."

Me: "Mom, Rob and I broke up last week."
Mom: "You always thought that X was a problem, though. Well, this is a change of subject, but my mission companion's sons are moving to Virginia. You should look out for them if you move down there."

It's genetic!
(adj. relating to or determined by the origin, development, or causal antecedents of something)

The Editor Unedited

Truth be told, one of the reasons I don't like writing is that I hate coming back and seeing mistakes I make. So I never publish; I only write, get frustrated about it, and then save drafts. No longer. You are going to get the raw writing. Good thing there are only eight or nine of you.

So there's nothing like a hard time to get you thinking about life again. We need hard times to grow; I need to grow. And it gives me something to blog about! Finally a little fodder—a break up. I feel like I'm thinking in manuscript style of A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. I'm my own subject for observation, and I'm going to blog about it, but don't expect any juicy gossip.

Here's something I've noticed about break-ups: we focus too much on the hard things about breaking up, which are a reality—I hurt; however, I want to focus on some perks for a bit—and there are some perks:

Here's the ultimate perk that I will briefly introduce to you tonight: the I-just-broke-up card. The power of that card is amazing (combine it with the I'm-on-my-period card, and you have it made). I have calculated that for every month of dating, you should get two and a half weeks of post-relationship card use. So that means I get about two and a half months, and I plan to put it to good use.

For example, if my roommates ever ask me to cook asparagus, as they are often wont to do, I can say, "no, probably not; I'm just broken up." And if I make a sad face, there's no way they can make me! And the truth is, it never wears out, even when they know I'm pulling the card. How can anyone with a heart say no to that? I couldn't. 

My roommates tried to put a cap on it already, but I told them that the card's powers are unlimited. They finally conceded (verb: to accept as true, valid, or accurate). (Do you like how I get away with picking out the definitions I want?) You can imagine, this is going to come in pretty handy. K, I'm out. Until next time.