Friday, December 27, 2013

Ponderings of a Self-Proclaimed Wallflower...

I’m forty and have been wondering all my life where I fit into this world.  

Never really a social butterfly, yet not quite an outcast…something of a loner who often still longs for the company of a friend…never popular but not really unpopular either…always looking for my niche but never belonging fully to any group…

I am a wallflower.  I am a Hazel.  I am an observer in the world.  (If you got both of those references, I love you.  If not, read “Perks of Being a Wallflower” by Stephen Chbosky and “The Fault in Our Stars” by John Green.  Seriously.  Do it.  I don't care that you are an adult and they are technically written for young adults.)

But I don’t want to be an observer…
I want to be an extrovert, always the life of the party. 
I want to be the artistic soul who creates beautiful art and music and poetry.
I want to be the intellectual everyone listens to for their sage wisdom.
I want to make a mark in the world.  I want to be remembered.
But I am an observer.

Observers see things others miss.
Observers find meaning and look for connections.
Observers see both sides and have trouble choosing.
Observers see life from the outside in, never fully becoming a part of it all.
Observers catch intimate moments and angry looks and rolling eyes.
I am an observer.

People forget observers. 
When we move away you don’t miss us.
When your lives get busy, you don’t think about us.
When you call the group to go out for drinks our names don’t come up.
It’s not that you don’t like us.  Often you do…but we are so good at blending into the wallpaper that when we are gone it doesn’t feel that different.
It isn’t your fault.  Thank you for trying.

But I am an observer.  
I have tried to change, but I am me.
I will never be one who commands attention.
I will never be the life of the party.
Nobody may ever read much of what I write.
But a handful of people know and love me deeply, and maybe I just need to be ok with that.

Monday, December 16, 2013

You might be depressed if...

I'm feeling a rather sarcastic humor happens...often...

So in that spirit, I'm starting a "you might be depressed if..." post.  Feel free to add any tidbits of thought to my party...

If you welcome illness because it gives you a "real" reason to stay in bed and avoid people..
     you might be depressed

If you decide to clean your desk but haven't in so long you can no longer find it...
     you might be depressed

If cute holiday children's specials anger you because the real world sucks...
     you might be depressed

If you are bored out of your mind but don't have the energy to do anything about it...
     you might be depressed

If you walk in and people run the other way...
     you might be depressed

If everyone else knows the perfect way for you to "get over it"...
     you might be depressed

If people ask you what your dreams are and you realize you don't have any because "what's the point?"...
     you might be depressed

If you are getting more and more convinced that you will be this way forever...
     you might be depressed

If you are jealous when you hear someone else has a terminal illness...
     you might be depressed

So there's my "humor" for the day...oh, one more!

If your "humor" depresses and annoys everyone who reads it...
     you might be depressed!

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Running on Empty

I'm not writing much lately. 

To be honest, I'm not doing much of anything creative except my occasional silly song lyrics.

I've gotten out more lately.  I went to a couple of Christmas parties. I reached out to a friend over coffee. I've somehow managed to cook dinner and do enough laundry to keep my husband in clean underwear.  Last night, the girls and I even started laughing and singing along to Christmas songs. 

No matter what happens, once the moment passes I'm back in the gray...truth be told, sometimes I can even feel it trying to creep into the moment.

And I'm still empty...