Episodes
Many things have gone on lately. Too many, in fact, to write about. I'm so busy, I just don't have the time I wish I had to blog more. Especially for my readers who miss me when 10 days go by and there is no word from The Tyrant....

But I write this today because something happened the other night to confirm that even being as busy as I am, I still manage to watch too much tv. It's affected my thinking, my speech, the way I see things. And as Friend A watched the event unfold, she immediately looked at me and knew I would blog about it.

Truth be told, however, the thought didn't cross my mind until she said I would blog about it. And further truth be told, I had no idea I wanted to write about all of this. But she demanded credit for saying that I would blog about it, even though she has no idea what all I will really write about here. And all of it is ironic since she has a strict not-reading-friend's-blogs policy, so she wouldn't know she got credit for anything unless she were to read it here.

But, Friend A, here is your credit. This blog entry would not exist were it not for you.

Anyway, I was telling a story to a group of friends about an article I read in a magazine. It's the best article I've read in a long time, likely largely due to the fact that I don't really read magazines or articles much. I just look at the pictures. So there really aren't many other articles to compare....

But this particular article happened to be about a crisis one faces when turning the ripe old age of 29. An identity crisis, of sorts. I've been in a funk lately. Nothing seems to make sense much. I think my friends think I'm weird, likely because I've been acting weird. I'm sad, then happy. I can have a great time with friends, but cry on the way home. Seriously. Happened tonight.

One minute I feel content with where I am, the next I feel completely alone and useless. One second I feel like I have it all together, I'm smart, funny, sophisticated, and on track to where I'm supposed to be in life. The next minute I get an email or a phone call, or I don't get an email or phone call, and it feels like my world has fallen apart. Insecurity sets in.

I'm self-conscious about everything I do. Did I say the wrong thing? Did I not say the right thing? What am I wearing? Should I have left the house looking like this? Why am I not married? Do I even want to ever be married? Shouldn't I have three kids by now? Is it weird that sometimes I just want to be around my closest girlfriends and not talk about boys for once? Do I mean anything to anyone, or am I just good for laughs sometimes?

Am I doing whatever I do good enough? Who have I failed this week, and is it worse than the last time I failed them? Will I ever be what I'm supposed to be, and can anyone tell me what that is?

Am I a 29-year old disappointment, or is where I am, what I do, who I love, who loves me, ok?

I've struggled mostly lately with failure. I can honestly say I don't do the wrong things on purpose. I don't set out to intentionally not do what my friends need me to do, or my family. I have to admit that I'm a selfish person. But genuinely, I try to do the right thing at the right times, from where I see it, as best I can. I have a tremendous desire not to hurt the people in my life, and instead help, or be there, or make them laugh. Just to be a good friend, good daughter, good fill-in-the-blank. Lately, however, it's just felt like I can't get things quite right. In many areas of my life. But especially, and where it's hardest for me to deal with, in areas and with people where it used to be so easy for it to be right.

Do you ever just wake up one day and realize, "Yesterday I had these friends and a good thing going there, and my family is good and at peace with one another, and I had some pizza, and a cookie, and the sun was out and it was warm and not windy, and everything was super great and I went to bed happy. Then today I woke up and where the hell did everyone go? And why is there no pizza? And that kid took my cookie. And now it's raining directly on me but not on anyone else, with lots of wind, and hail. And I seem to be all alone, and lonely, and sad, and what all seemed right my world is now on fire and a complete mess. How did that happen? I just closed my eyes for a few minutes..."

That's been how I feel lately. Just kinda... what happened? I thought things were good.

But I haven't just thought about failure for me, even though it's been a big thought on my mind. I tend to assume I did something wrong when things go wrong. But I've also thought a lot lately about how I communicate failure to the people in my life. Mostly that sometimes I think I communicate disappointment or unhappiness with the people I love, when that's really not the case. I have a lot of amazing people in my life. But sometimes, depending on which side of crazy I wake up on any given day, I wonder if I give my loved ones the impression that they've failed me that day, or that week, or lately, because I'm unsteady these days.

If I can't figure myself out, how can anyone else?

It breaks my heart to think that people in my life may be wondering how they've failed me, when they haven't actually failed me, but I just haven't done a good job of letting them know they haven't, and that I still love them.

So, I picked up this article in this magazine that I was actually intending to throw away. It had been sitting on my floor for about a month (don't tell my mom my house was in such dissaray - and still is - that a magazine could sit on the floor untouched for so long...), and I was actually picking it up to throw it away. But, I flipped through it and stumbled on this article.

As I read it, it seemed to be describing me. I had no idea what is was about until I began to read it. Turns out it was about a woman who had just turned 29 and her struggles with a life crisis at that time.

Huh. Soooo, maybe that's my problem. And maybe I'm ok. Just going through some stuff.

It had never occured to me that I could have a legitimate life crisis at 29. You always hear people talk about turning 30 and that's the year it's scary. Or a mid-life crisis somewhere around 50. Well, it's been comforting to learn that 29 can legitimately be rough, too. And since most of my friends are younger than I am, it's no wonder they wonder what's wrong with the crazy old Tyrant. They just haven't been here, yet.

This was the line that struck me from the article. And really, it applies to anyone of any age:
"This was part of the irony of it all - the more I focused on being what everyone wanted me to be, the less I was able to enjoy true relationship, which was probably the one thing I hungered for the most."

That kinda summed up everything I've been feeling lately, but haven't been able to put it into the right words. I've got these great friends and family in my life, these relationships that have somehow materialized despite the odds of it involving me and the crazy that comes with me. When the relationships are good, I feel so safe, and ok. Yet, it gets to a point where it's not as enjoyable. And I think it's because (for me) I'm wanting so much to figure out who I am, but I'm going about that by trying to be everyone else's picture of what they want me to be. I'm not ever going to find myself that way. And my relationships will continue to suffer.

I notice that my relationships are at their best when I'm free. I can look back at really good times with people I love, and I see now that those are times when I was comfortable, and I felt safe, and it was good. Like, this-is-why-I-let-people-in-my-life-because-normally-I'm-a-hermit-but-there-actually-are-good-people-out-there-that-I-can-let-into-my-world good. But when my insecurities and fears start creeping back in, it eats away at what I bring to relationships, and my ability to just give who I am to those I love, and my ability to just let them love me. It takes away my trust from what I know to be a good thing, and it substitutes that trust with working overtime trying to fix what probably wasn't broken in the first place.

But that's why the people in my life are here in the first place, because of who I am. Not because I can be what I think they want me to be. Or because I suddenly need to start fixing things that aren't broken. Something about me is something they liked to start with. And I don't think it was the possibility that after they got to know me, then I would be more of use to them.

It is the hardest thing I will ever be able to conquer to accept that sometimes people actually just love me, and want me around, and value me in their life, just because of who I am. Not because of what I can do. Or have done.

I have not conquered this.

But then, I went to church last night. And this may get a little preachy/Jesus-y for those of you who don't come here to read that sort of thing from me. But bear with me. It's good.

I sat too close to the front at church, so I was largely distracted throughout most of the talk/sermon/word/voicing. But one thing that was said brought me to tears as I sat through the time of reflection: God loves me as I am. I've heard that a million times. But through this Lent time as I struggle with the email I gave up, or as we all struggle and think ourselves failures in our human attempts to be more holy during Lent, it really doesn't matter.

God won't love me less this week because I emailed some people last week. Ok, a lot. Of people. And... a whole lot of emails.

So that got me thinking a bit further. If I'm not failing God during Lent, maybe I'm not failing Him on a regular day. And maybe through most of my days. And maybe, even, through all 29 of my years.

Whoa.

And maybe if I'm not actually failing God, and He loves me anyway, why am I so worried and heartbroken about not failing everyone else? Seems to me that He's the one that really matters. And if my version of crazy, can't-get-it-right-even-though-I'm-trying on any given day can't make Him love me any less, maybe I'm ok.

For the first time in awhile, I heard last night that God just wants me to accept the fact that He loves me. Even if I am a complete failure to everyone else in my life, or as a 29-year old without a husband or kids or a cookie.

It hit me last night that I need acceptance. I need to be loved. We all have that need. But I think it's what drives me more than it should. I just want to know I'm ok, and that my ok is ok with everyone else. And lately my struggle has been to want that where I am not finding it. But if God loves me, then even if the entire rest of the world has no love for me at all, I need to find peace in that. Because that's the reality of it, and what's better is that's the beauty of it. There actually is peace in that.

Anyway, I'm still 29. And I'm still struggling. But at least I know that's what it is. And I'm not alone. Still crazy, and I will probably cry again in a minute. But I'm not alone.

And what brought on this episode of Cynical Rantings was what happened the other night, with a group of friends, as I mentioned that I'd read an article in a magazine that I was about to throw away, and it was the best article I'd read in a long time.

Except... I called it an episode. Instead of an article. Without realizing that's what I called it. Until everyone pointed it out to me.

I watch too much tv.

But sometimes I read. And it's good.

Episodes.

C.T.