This winter royally kicked my ass. It kicked everyone’s ass–making plans around snow, worrying about whether or not I could work (or worse, get stuck there,) dealing with everyone else’s craziness stocking up on bread and eggs, the works. The stories I have of rude customers from my retail job over the last few weeks are astounding. Adding to this mayhem is that I’m one of those people that gets miserable without sunshine. The bad thoughts I had leading up to my 29th birthday came back with a vengeance–that I wasn’t good enough, that I was stuck, I was unwanted.
I know that’s bullshit, but man, I was really feeling it. My mom, also feeling snow crazy, decided that we should go away, somewhere warm, with plenty of sunshine and no work. That place? Disney World. She insisted that it’s a much different experience when there’s no children and only two people in the group, that it wouldn’t be anything like the family trip this past August. I was reluctant for a while, but as the trip drew near and the negative thoughts and emotions grew stronger, I was more than happy to bounce.
It was so worth it. It was so worth it to go, to get away. Yes, we had a jam packed itinerary, but I was the most relaxed I had been in months. It was nice to be removed from certain situations, and in new places. There was sunshine! Flowers! Warmth! I met Ariel! I got a kick ass hot stone massage! And, perhaps this is the weirdest thing, but being in Disney World made me realize a few things about myself:
- I’m not ready for kids. Although I have more patience for kids now than I did in my early twenties, the mothers at my hotel looked so worn down and exhausted every day. I was that person in the parks wondering why there were so many damn kids (because, you know, it’s DISNEY WORLD.)
- I have to take things one by one. I’ve been making myself crazy thinking that I have to get my own place, a better paying job and my version of Marshall all before I turn thirty. That’s insane. I feel if I take it one at a time, it’s less pressure and things will fall into place themselves otherwise.
- I have to shift my perspective when it comes to thinking about time. I’ve been angry because I feel like I’ve lost two and a half years and that I’m trapped. I actually began thinking about it the weekend before I left; where I attended the engagement party of a good friend. At the time of the party last year, she and her fiancé were broken up. I’d always been looking at it from the opposite side; that it only seems to be when things are going well that bad things happen. It can go the other way, and I can’t be on my guard all the time anymore.
- The most important: I can never be my “old” self again. And after some time away from my usual routine, I don’t want to be. If I’m my old self, that means (a) Matty is still here and (b) that means that I’m back in my early twenties where I was even more ridiculous than I am now–whiny, hung up on stupid, stupid guys, ungrateful (I want to tell my college self to chill out so bad, that things really weren’t so bad) drunk and really unsure of myself. I want to keep moving forward.
I know this may seem like a bit of a rehash from my last personal post, but I need a reminder sometimes. I think we all do, that things aren’t so bad, to be more patient, to slow down a little, or in some cases, speed up. Once you graduate from high school and/or college, when you know all the bullshit is going to end, there is no definitive end to things, unless you are 100% certain you know when exactly you’re going to die. It’s scary for some. An earlier draft of this post, titled “How Many Times Can I Learn to Fly?” detailed how I was sick of learning life lessons, sick of setbacks. But perhaps instead of resisting, I should actually put these lessons into practice.