The Kind of Sad That Just Takes Time

To be completely honest, I've been itching to write a new post. It's been OVER a year since I've typed up one of these things. And I'll set the mood: It is 1AM in Estes Park, Colorado. I'm laying in bed next to my sleeping sister. My dog's feet are resting on my legs. I have From Indian Lakes on loops on my Spotify. It's cloudy outside and I can tell that it is because the moon is so big and bright and beautiful tonight.

I've mulled over a few topics to write about, and I know it's not smart to wait until a moment of inspiration gets you, but a moment of inspiration has come, folks. And here I am. 

I'm talking about full on gratitude tonight. Gratitude for the people in your life, gratitude for what is, gratitude for what isn't, and the hardest of all, gratitude for the stuff that you really don't feel like being grateful for. 

In a sense, I think gratitude is synonymous with hope. One of my favorite quotes of all time, and one that's been in my head recently is one from Stephen Chbosky's book The Perks of Being A Wallflower: "She wasn't bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time."  

Friends, I have been sad. I've been sad for maybe almost a year now. And this is absolutely not a pity post or a cry for help (although when I write these, I do feel like a bit of a narcissist ?? IDK, if I am, call me out). I think the root of this sadness is just a lot of unrest and uneasiness in my own young adulthood life, in my family's lives, in the multitude of changes that have happened. 

I've made plenty of mistakes in the last year, or since I last posted. I've gone through a breakup. I graduated college (!!!). I've had two random people hit my car in my apartment parking lot and just run for it (like - is that truly necessary). I was going to go to Slovenia this summer. Decided against that. Now, I'm literally just waiting to see if I get into grad school in Denver at the THIRD best Forensic Psych program in the nation, and all I truly want to do is go to my stats classes and my counseling classes and walk around campus at DU while the snow is falling and I'm holding a good cup of chai. I want to live with my sister. I want to live in the city. I want to feel like I am accomplishing something and that I'm not sitting in this period of waiting. 

The older I've gotten, I've realized how much weight I put into my accomplishments. Just this morning, I had a GOOD cry in bed for about 15 minutes and remembered my worth and got ready and went to church and overall, I had a great day. 

Today honestly felt like a healthy balance between processing my emotions for a little and then saying, "You know what, DESPITE how I feel, I can keep living." 

I think I tend to live in extremes. But, I grew up seeing my dad's strong independence and my mom's wild sense of loyalty and I think I thought I had to be one or the other. So, there's some days (weeks, months, the past ~almost~ year where I've felt generally hopeless) where I brood and sit over my emotions. I give plenty of room for myself to process my emotions and then in maybe a sick sense, I kind of just like sitting in that sad feeling. I like the angst. I like the moodiness. 

Then, there's periods in my life where I don't feel like processing my emotions. I work and work - and I enjoy it! I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I feel accomplished and working on something that I think is worthwhile and purposeful to me - could be homework (I do love school :) ) or IDK, like going on runs or keeping up with my ~aesthetic~. 

But, I was PROUD of myself today, because it felt like I truly balanced the art of accomplishment and keeping space for my emotions. And it got me thinking about gratitude. I am so incredibly grateful for the people in my life. And I am grateful for those that chose to walk out. 

I am grateful for those that chose to walk out.

My fear of abandonment is strong. And honestly, I hate it. When I'm in romantic relationships, I tend to look for an open door - kind of a "grass is greener on the other side" complex. And even in platonic relationships, or even potential friendships, I tend to always think the relationship will end at some point. It goes back to a deep-seated fear that there's something wrong with me. So I run a thin line between almost putting on a show to appeal to certain people or rebelling for the sake of rebelling (aka essentially labeling myself as a black sheep). Being genuine and truthful is something I very much value. But, so often, I am not genuine to myself. And I don't want people to leave me, so I try desperately to fit in with the crowd. The age old question: Do I choose to be genuine and risk being alone, or do I choose to not be as genuine, but have relationships with others even if they are lowkey superficial?  

Another one of my favorite quotes is from the song "Rhode Island" by The Front Bottoms: "Everything you're feeling is common, even though you've never felt so alone." And I think this really applies here. I struggle with the back-and-forth of feeling genuine or feeling fake, but I think multitudes and multitudes of people also struggle with the same thing. No one likes feeling rejected. Everyone likes feeling chosen. 

I don't feel chosen a lot. I don't feel chosen in my romantic relationships especially. But this morning, I felt that sense of gratitude creeping in. And let me tell you, that gratitude felt a lot like hope. Like a soothing balm on my soul, it reminded me of all those who have been so good to me: One of my best friends (who is also my roommate) (a BLESSING) who consistently makes me laugh. We both have dark senses of humor and are into psychology and have spent multiple nights watching crime documentaries and drinking wine. My best friend who lives in Denver (she lives in CO, now, yay!) and how she holds me accountable and always, always hypes me up. In fact, all my best friends hype me up and they're very good at that. And they have been my best friends since elementary school. Incredible. Not only that, but my family is a blessing. I just sat in the bath tonight and my sister and I talked for, like, a whole hour about her boy problems and we hyped each other up. And there are countless others who choose me. They love me. They continue to choose me time and time again. 

And sometimes I'm not chosen. Someone is chosen instead of me, or no one is chosen, but "no one" is better than me. Or I'm rejected. Or I'm just not liked. 

But at the end of the day, that doesn't matter. I think I'm going to choose to be genuine. I'm going to run the risk of abandonment and say, "You know, I have people in my life who love me and think I'm great." And not worry about the rest of the people who don't like me. And that's enough. How freeing! A true blessing. 

So, yes. I'm starting to feel that hopeful kind of sad - the kind of sad that just takes time. I drove up the canyon tonight while the rain was falling and I listened to "Heroes" by David Bowie. 

I'm going to be okay, whether I get into grad school or not. Whether or not I feel heartache or angst or sadness or pain, I'm going to be okay because I am grateful. And because I have hope. 

I've started saying the phrase, "Less like scars, more like character." which I got from a Sara Groves song because I'm not that original although I wish I were. But I think it's been applicable to my life. I am grateful for the people who chose to walk out of my life, because even though it hurts bad, it builds character. It's forever intertwined with my story. And it creates room for new beginnings.