I've had so many thoughts in my head that I've wanted to write about but haven't spent any time with the blank page. Ahhh, here we are.
Well. You know. Now I don't know what to say. My brain is like WHOA SO MANY THINGS IN HERE, MAN.
Let's see. Yesterday evening was not awesome. I was stressed because RUSSIA and I have like eightyhundred books to buy and read and HIV tests to take and Visa applications to fill out and I can't breathe under it all. Also those creepy crawly totally bitchy feelings of INADEQUACY. We've dealt with this before, amiright? Wow are you overwhelmed by the amount of CAPS?
This is not a post in which I attempt to write eloquently. CLEARLY.
I had a long, wonderful heart to heart with my dad last night, though. I was in tears, natch. Feeling intense physical anxiety, something I hardly ever experience. That is not me. I don't want to be that person. And he just came into my room and asked me, simply, what I was feeling.
And the floodgates opened.
I cried and he listened and he related and we laughed. We smiled and sighed and hugged. It was beautiful and I wish I could have written it all down, have it all on tape, something. My dad is the most patient, kind, caring, loving person I know. And damn, we are so alike. He gives the best advice because he has been there. And if he hasn't been there he tries. He listens and then he tries as best he can to understand and help. And sometimes, an almost grown girl still needs her dad's help.
Speaking of growing, I think I have another inch on me. Woke up feeling taller and measured against my dad, who was previously the second shortest person in the family. I think he's the shortest now.
Before the night brought on the anxiety, we had a family day. Bagels and coffee with The Sunday Morning Show in the AM... followed by some afternoon tennis and a reward in the form of Nicky Rotten's, down on First Ave. We shared garlic fries and I had the most beautiful caprese salad. Life was so sweet yesterday.
I promptly forgot that when I stared at the red and bolded text in all the emails from NTI (National Theater Institute) about Moscow. Sometimes the world just feels so small and then suddenly your problems are so big and nothing else in the world could be worse and it will never get better.
And then you breathe.
Or cry, and talk to your dad and realize all this internal shit? Needs to stop, because it's not helping anyone. Worrying does nothing. Everyone with me: Worrying. Does. Nothing. I preach it but I don't practice and I'm trying. So hard I am trying to live outside myself sometimes and put my whole damn life in perspective.
Look around at what I have.
Wake up grateful every day.
I'm here and I'm living and I'm embracing my fuckups, my weaknesses, my weird ass quirks.
Acknowledge what could have been done better, make a note for next time and move the hell on.
This little piece of writing is incongruent and all over the place but it's what my heart needed to say and it's where my fingers fell on the keys.
And it feels so nice.