I bet you read that title and thought this was going to be a blog about appreciating the little things. I mean, who wouldn't? That's what that phrase usually implies, right?
But... Have you met me?
(dramatic pause while we allow those who are uninterested in or don't want to expose themselves to real-life stuff, and/or who simply don't give a shit, to hit their browser's back button)
Now that that's out of the way, let's get on with it.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you smile, make you recognize small kindnesses, bring you hope, or relief.
Sometimes it's the little things that make you cry, make you want to scream or break things, make you want to bury your head in the sand and stay there until the day is over, hoping for a new day to start sooner than later. And hoping like hell that it'll be better than the last.
This week seems to have been a pile of the latter. And since my shrink is overbooked, this becomes my therapy stand-in...
...
This week, in my Facebook notifications, I received several new "likes" on my music videos from a man. 47 liked videos, to be exact.
Let's back up a bit...
Years ago, there was a man I loved very, very much. In fact, I left my first husband for him (yes, terrible, I know). He was the bass player in the band I was in. We were together for two years. I have always said that if life didn't have such a fucked up sense of humor, I would probably still be with this man today.
Long story short; we were both married at the time. He was in the process of leaving his wife... She was a foreigner, a family friend, and the intent was to end the marriage as soon as she got her citizenship.
Just before that happened, he suffered an aneurysm. He survived it, but his mind was taken. He essentially forgot about us (and almost everything else). I visited him in the hospital, and in rehab, until the family had me removed from the visitor's list.
He eventually went home. Got his driver's license back, went back to living as normal a life as possible for someone with a brain injury.
I've run into him a couple times over the years, but he still only had vague memories of us being in a band together. Years ago, Logan and I ran into him at Amato's. We were behind him in line. He turned and looked at us, said hello, and turned back around. One of the last times I saw him was years later, at the bar in Bucksport where we used to play, and where I worked. He did ask me then if we had been involved. It may not have even been the first time he asked me. But I think it was the first time I answered him honestly. That night we exchanged phone numbers. He even kissed me when we parted. Somehow I knew I'd still never hear from him. And I didn't. He probably forgot about it all the next day.
He's never been on social media before now. It was his name. I knew it was him because when I went to the profile, there was no picture, and very few friends. Only a few of his relatives, and his french wife.
It felt so strange. To be catapulted back to that time, to think of him again. I have been tempted to reach out. But I guess I know better. It would only lead to more heartache. Honestly, he may not even know why he's doing it. By now he may not even remember doing it at all.
...
I learned this week that when it comes to dating, ultimately, someone's feelings are going to get hurt. Yours, or theirs. I don't know which I dislike more.
Speaking of dating, it's uncomfortable to be around someone you like when you know that they don't see you. Well, not literally, but, just not in that way.
Also, after going so long without human contact or affection, and craving it so desperately, it sucks when you recognize that someone's advances just mean they want to sleep with you. I mean, it's flattering, I guess. But just once it would be cool if it meant more than that. Oh well.
And although I write that off as no big deal, it eventually gets to you. On the surface, at least for a moment, it makes you feel desirable. But eventually, on a deeper level, it just makes you feel unwanted.
...
This week was the first time I've been seriously heckled at a gig. And by seriously, I mean, not in a fun way. I can't say I've ever had someone, up close and personal, say- "I don't have to participate, I'm here, so I'm participating. We're not getting paid to sing, you are."
Ouch.
Also, it was the first time I've wanted to hit someone in a long time. Okay, maybe not "in a long time..."
...
Being the only person in a group not invited to be part of selfie fun is awkward. And enlightening. Although, I've always kinda felt like I don't belong anyway, so I guess it's more affirmation than enlightenment.
Goes right along with always seeing "friends" doing stuff, but never being invited or included.
I guess you eventually get used to it.
Kinda.
...
I saw another surgeon this past week. After a year of this, four different specialists, misdiagnoses, and a surgery that was for something else rather than the root problem, it looks like I'll finally get the surgery I need. But because the surgeon is booking out (as most are), it'll be just in time for my health insurance to end. Of course. Fuck you, universe. Seriously, just, fuck you.
...
Well, I think I've complained enough for now. But, you know me, there will always be something to complain about. I'd apologize for being a Debbie downer, but I'm not into being apologetic for how I'm wired.
I guess I'll spend the day hanging out with my dogs (until my gig tonight... TGIF means nothing to a musician). They are always up for a selfie, they love to sing along, and their advances are always sincere.
...
In closing...
Do you ever feel like you just won't ever be that special thing for someone else?
And please spare me the - love yourself, no one else will bring you self-worth, you make you happy, someone else isn't going to make you feel whole, bla bla bla, inspirational bullshit.
Because... what does your life mean if it only means something to you? What worth do we have if we have not meant something, to at least someone? It's fucking true, no matter how much the idealists want to deny it.
If you only mean something to yourself, if no one sees you but you, what is your worth?
...
Folks, this is what happens when you hide all your medications because you are having a house sitter, only to come back from vacation and forget where you hid them, thereby causing a lapse in your treatment.
Ooops.
Or, maybe I'm just a natural born killer of anything that might bring that feeling of wholeness (hence the included video of the recording I just did today).
Or, maybe I just need more coffee.