With Friends Like These...

Growing up as an only child, having close friends whom I can trust and share with is extremely important to me.  My mother was never the motherly type.  I don't doubt how much she loves me, but I find that whenever I talk to her, I always steered clear of mentioning anything that might worry her.  I want her to see me as strong and able--a survivor.

Oh, I have no problem sharing with my friends when it comes to these emotions: joy, love, surprise, anger, fear, even embarrassment (uh huh, you've read my other posts, right?).  I'm not a closed-up person when it comes to friendships.  What you see is what you get.   

When it comes to expressing or sharing sadness though, it's a totally different story.

Perhaps because I grew up being an only child?  Or because I was raised by the type of mother who was not big on expressing emotions?  Whatever it is, of all the things I suck at, if I must choose one, it would be my inability to share my own sad feelings with anyone other than myself. 

Instead of seeking others' company or advice, I would go into a hiding mode, where I would ponder over things quietly in my head, cry, and then somehow work myself into feeling normal again.  As you could probably predict, more often than not, whatever the issues were was never really resolved.

What about therapists?  Well, I've tried.  Unfortunately, not even a therapist can make me talk about sad things.  I would just babble on about other things, making jokes and laughing my ass off, all the while avoiding the reason why I came in the first place.  Before you know it, the session would have ended, the therapist would have this big grin from having laughed so much, and I would leave without mentioning anything that would indicate the sad mess that was in my head.

But today... today I am sad.  Predictably, my mind blanked out when I tried to write down how I feel.  Couldn't elaborate.

So what do I do at a time such as this?  I called up my buddies, Mrs. Mouthy and Ms. Lips.  I told them I needed a distraction.  I need to drown my sorrow with some alchy and loud music.  Anything that would beat the shit out of whatever it is that's in my head right now.  I need to force myself to feel "normal" again.  Bitchy, I can do.  Psycho, even better.  Pathetic, helpless chick hag?  SO not me.

As always, Mrs. Mouthy and Ms. Lips didn't disappoint.  No questions ask, they agreed to a night out.  We aimed high, with plans to go clubbing and partied like college girls on their spring break.  A quick glance into the mirror sobered us up though.  So we decided to tone-down it a few notches to... going karaoke!.  So folks, that's where I'm going tonight!  Mrs. Mouthy, Ms. Lips, and me, Sweaty.

So I bid you good day for now.  I WILL BE BACK.