gratitude

As I lay under the covers on the futon in my robe at 5 in the afternoon, sobbing into the pool of snot that was my pillow, Courtney came to comfort me. She asked if I had ever kept a gratitude journal, to which I shook my head. She explained how, though it was trite when she was younger, it helped her to feel happy. She suggested, as usual, that I get my sorry, soggy ass out of bed and do something.

The phrase "self-fulfilling prophecy" keeps skirting through my mind. The critical and utterly un-helpful part of my mind tells me that I always fuck things up. That I sabotage the best parts of my life.
Of course, that's a debate. Not that knowing whether or not it's true would be helpful either.

Being inside my brain is exhausting. Yesterday I went from calm and content to motivated and joyful... to irritated and finally disillusioned and achy. Every day seems to run the gamut from one end to the other, back again, up down and around. It's exhausting feeling everything so intensely. Every little thought and emotion... completely taking over, billowing into a nuclear cloud of feeling and reeking total havoc in my mind, body, heart.

The only time it stops is when I'm listening to others. I can be there for someone else so completely. I can shut out my own world.
"Don't you get tired of hearing other people's problems when you have your own?" No. Quite the opposite. It refreshes me. Give me the space I need to breathe, makes me able to look at myself with less emotion and more perspective. Put myself in the shoes of others, give sound advice that forces me to take some myself. I'm grateful for the problems and feelings of others. I can be in their heart for a moment and be out of my own.

I frequently find myself unable to tell the difference between having too much to say and having nothing at all to say. I just keep drawing, spilling out incredibly sad pictures. Pictures that actually feel much sadder than I do, but it is an invaluable catharsis.

When the waves of pain come... it's so much. It's so deep. It's been there for so long. I remember first feeling it with this intensity around age 10, when I began locking myself in my room and never coming out. My heart literally aching in my chest, I would lay in bed at night and writhe with pain.
The word writhe fits perfectly. When I hear it I see my father in my mind. I see him stepping out of the truck onto a gravel road, grabbing a large rock and bashing in the head of a crossing rattlesnake. When he did that, they writhed.
The neglect was so much worse than the abuse. 12 years old, 13. I remember the tears, just wanting more than anything to be touched. But there was no place for that.

I remember laying in the hospital, age 20. Feeling as though I might die, if not from the infection in my body then from the splitting pain in my chest. Without my glasses I couldn't see beyond the oxygen mask. But my best friend, the spiky-haired blur above me, stroked my forehead and sang to me. Tears streamed down to my ears. Love was killing me.

I felt it when I left JP in the driving snow, howling softly in my truck, having just lost the love of my life for the second but not the last time.

It's a feeling that feels like my oldest friend.

If I were to write a gratitude journal, I could write volumes about how things have improved since then. There's no end to how things have improved. Truly.
But, in the words of Alanis...

Oh, these little rejections, how they add up quickly
One small sideways look and I feel so un-good, and
Somewhere along the way I think I gave you the power to make
Me feel the way I thought only my father could.

Oh, these little rejections, how they seem so real to me
One forgotten birthday, I'm all but cooked, and
And how these little abandonments seem to sting so easily
I'm thirteen again, am I thirteen for good?

I'm not 13 anymore. Thank god I never, ever have to be again. I'm not subject to abuse or neglect. I'm not trapped, I'm not without options or people who love me... no matter how it feels sometimes. But god it's so easy to revert. It's so easy to forget. It's so easy to feel like a little, wounded child again.

So. Gratuity. Graciousness. Grace.

I am grateful that I have lived longer than I ever dreamed I would. And because of this, I have healed from more than I ever thought I could survive. How old I feel and how old I am is becoming more and more congruent. I am finally interested in women who are my peers and not years beyond me.
I am grateful for my intelligence and my sense of humor. I am grateful for my passionate heart, even though it gets just as passionately broken as it feels passionately joyous. I am grateful for my talents, which keep me sane.
I am grateful for my job, even though it sometimes drives me crazy. It lets me keep up on my financial obligations and keep a roof over my head. I have a safe place to sleep at night and I always have food. I am grateful that I was born in this country, where absolutely anything can be accomplished.
I always have someone to call when it's an emergency. Or I just need an emergency hug. I am extremely grateful to have met some of the most wonderful people in the world, and to have them as friends. I'm grateful for every friend I have, even if that friendship was forged through a failed relationship. Sometimes those are the very best friends: someone you can't hide from.
I am grateful for the endless opportunities that life presents me with each and every day.
I am grateful for the opportunity to right my wrongs. I am grateful for the strength to keep going, keep learning, keep loving.

I'm so excited to see what this year will hold. Can you imagine all that might happen in the span of these 365 days?
I rest assured that as many moments as I spend in an aching puddle of tears, I will spend just as many swelling with joy and tearing up at the sight of something beautiful.

This year I will spend time reading things things for fun and learning to meditate. This year I will complet a 60-mile marathon, and go on a silent vipassana retreat. I will listen to music I've never heard and spend more time looking at the ocean. I will laugh more and watch more movies. I will take more mini-vacations. I will take more bubble baths and use the outside grill more. I will enjoy the little things. I will create something beautiful as often as possible, and I will take every opportunity to extend respect and friendliness to those in need. I will spend more time looking at the moon and stars. I will nurture my friendships. I will nurture myself.