Today is three weeks. I don’t know why I’m obsessed with time like this but I am. Whatever. I’m ready to stop moping and stop being so fucking miserable. This is the most ridiculous thing I’m ever going to admit, but the guy from Jersey Shore wrote a book about dealing with anxiety and it is helping me tremendously. I fully admit to buying it not only because the first few pages were good, but because that mess of a show is something the guy and I liked together. I may have even had visions of giving it to him, him reading it, realizing that anxiety and self doubt were all that kept him from loving me like I know he does, and … well, you get the picture.
Anyway, even though it is just recycled Deepak Chopra and Eckhart Tolle with a bunch of “bro” and “douche” sprinkled in, it’s helping. I’m all about being present now, no more wallowing in the past – at least of this relationship – and trying to fight the anxiety that comes along with that. I’m focusing all my energy on being present. It’s very difficult for me. I have to do things like name everything I see. “Blue station wagon. Red truck. Yellow road sign. Green grass. Speed bump.” For an entire four hours now I’ve been pretty present. It is possibly a new record for me. I’ll give myself dedicated hours to mope and go over the past, but those hours will be scheduled fewer and farther between every day.
One thing Vinny says helps him is to repeat something like, “My mind is not capable of comprehending this,” when there is an anxiety situation. Yes, I just referred to the kid from fucking Jersey Shore. Any port in a storm, OK?
So the comprehension thing is one of my huge ego issues. My whole persona is built on being logical, analytical, figuring things out, understanding. But there is no human mind in existence capable of understanding everything. Even if mine could, it wouldn’t change how I feel about things or where I am in my life. I drive myself fucking crazy just trying to understand. And I’ve learned this lesson repeatedly. And obviously forgotten it repeatedly.
I give up trying to understand everything. Needing to understand. Presuming that I can understand. Wasting my energy understanding.
My life is not a jigsaw puzzle to be solved.
I still want the guy back, I still want to be in a relationship, I still have a shitload of issues to sort out, I’m still hurt, I still want to cry about it. But the fog is lifting. I’m ready to be happy again. With help from whomever will give it, including a reality-TV punk.