Survival of the fittest

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

You know those people who when you ask them how they’re doing, they reply fine all rapid fire like and succinct and then when you press for details because you are genuinely interested in knowing how this person’s life is going, everything is a one word answer? Those people who say “Fine. Oh, I’m fine. Everything is fine. Just fine” as if “fine” is the only word they know in the English language and to find a replacement would require a thesaurus. I am that person. The person who answers ‘fine’ to everything and then thinks that that is a perfectly adequate answer and nothing else should be inquired as to the state of my general well being. Obviously I am alive and breathing without an assistive device so clearly nothing can be that bad. Right? Right. But oh, oh, the way I can put on a front. I should have been a damn theater major with the way I can smile on the outside while feeling as if every ounce of happiness is being sucked from my insides with the force of a Dyson; well, it’s an art.

And the Oscar for Most Able to Look Happy on the Outside While Dying a Slow and Painful (and somewhat exaggerated) Soul Sucking Death on the Inside goes to…Heather Barmore.

My shoulders are starting to hurt due to the number of times I’ve given myself a congratulatory pat on the back for not sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth and threatening to bite people if they come near me with another asinine question. And that is the best way to describe how God-awful this summer has been. Then again, in the grand scheme of things and as I stated so eloquently before, I am still breathing and standing unassisted but still in the grand scheme of things known as my life and mental well being, I think this summer would go down as the one when I almost ended up in a straight jacket.

But of course, I was FINE! No really, just FINE! So fine in fact that on July 31st, I wrote something that will forever be saved in DRAFT and there it will stay until I have a teenager and my teenager throws herself on the floor in some crazy dramatic fashion because life isn’t fair and she has it so hard and OMFG I didn’t let her stay out until 2 AM. Then I will show my teenage daughter this DRAFT post and tell her that she can’t over drama me. Oh hell no, if she wants to see overdramatic hyperbole and prove herself worthy of throwing an excellent temper tantrum, then she needs to try a little harder. For her mother is wholly unimpressed.

I’ll give you a paraphrased excerpt. The part where I literally walked around a small coastal town feeling as if I was losing my mind while everything inside of me broke in two: “I’m wearing shades not because my future is bright but because I can’t walk around town in tears. I make calls and stifle each sob as I wander up and down the main street trying to find some sense of relief. I head to the Ferry to get a schedule and peer over the edge. There’s a railing on Beach Road but it’s almost waist high and the water isn’t nearly deep enough to incur the damage that I would really need at this point. So instead I hoist my bag back over my shoulder, wipe my eyes and head home.” Actually, I walked back home and drank Bacardi straight from the bottle and cried myself to sleep. Then I woke up had some clam strips and was suddenly right as rain.

The summer was all about taking several small things, having them crash together at the exact same time as if they all planned to converge based on wind speed and temperature to fuck with my brain and lo a tornado has dropped down in my cerebral cortex. All of the little things were only exacerbated by my already fragile mental state and then stick me on a plane all over the damn country and as you can imagine there were moments when I was about as a pleasurable as a colicky six month old with reflux who is teething and thinks that sleep is for pussies.

The other day I stepped out of my office and it was slightly chilly. Not freezing but a nice 73 degrees and cool enough for a ¾ sleeve jacket. It smelled like fall. Like right around the corner would be pumpkin spice lattes and pick your own apples and cowl neck sweaters. That was the night that I finally turned off the fan and decided that I wouldn’t be in need of it anymore. It wouldn’t be hot as hell anymore and the interminable hell that had been a personal slugfest through summer appeared to be over. At last. I’ve been looking forward to September for quite sometime. Perhaps because I would be adding colors like ‘eggplant’ and ‘plum’ to my wardrobe or because I knew that if I could make it to September without quitting my job or life, then I would be OK. And then it would be smooth sailing and my parents would high five in a few weeks on my 25th birthday for raising a child who made it a quarter century without going to prison on charges of Losing Her Shit.

Yesterday, I finally felt a bit more settled. As the remainder of the summer weight was lifted off of my shoulders and I felt my feet a little more firmly planted. Yes, I thought, I feel good now. When I got home a package had arrived from Suebob. In it was a note that I read first before tearing into what was in the bubble wrap. You see, during one of my jaunts through somewhere, I lost all of my favorite jewelry. Including my superhero necklace and my pearls. Yes, these were material things that can easily be replaced but my superhero necklace always made me feel better and my pearls went with everything. The note from Suebob was expressing her sadness for me when I lost my superhero necklace and that she saw that I had been wearing one in most of my BlogHer photos. She happened to have two and one of them wasn’t her style and so she sent it to me. She sent me a brand new superhero necklace. But! And there’s always a but, when I thanked her there was a caveat. The caveat being that it needed to be a Pay it Forward scenario. She made me thrilled beyond believe with her generosity and now I had to be a little kinder. A little less acerbic and less bite to my words. “Wag more, bark less” she said. Cease with my feelings of woe is me and life is too hard and I should just pack up and move somewhere else because I’m not cut out for anything. So I agreed. And now that the end of summer has arrived, for once I am not lying through my teeth when saying that I feel a little bit better than my previous self.

Farewell, summer. You were a Goddamn royal pain in the ass like nails on a chalkboard and metal hitting a filling and like being kicked in the groin repeatedly for sport. You will not be missed. Bring on the knee high boots and turtleneck sweaters.