On being an adult.

I haven't posted in a while because I haven't had anything to post about.

This blog is something I started when I was much younger than I am now, and I have tried to post at least once a month for a very long time. These days, I find that I no longer really need it as an outlet - once upon a time it was very important for me to write about my feelings.

These days I just don't have that many feelings.

I do not mean that I don't have any feelings. I am very precise with my language. I mean that I don't have that many compared to how I used to be. Most days I get through a day going through no more than two or three feelings, none of them very strong.

I like it this way.

But every once in a while, something still gets to me. Today, something got to me.

I did not know that when I finally chose a career, that there would be so many people in this world who feel free to be awful to me. I am not so naive as to think that NO ONE would, but the sheer amount of people who step all over others is very discouraging. I am generally inclined to see people as more alike to me than not, but I have to admit that sometimes people just seem generally awful.

As a counselor, day in and day out I am doing nothing but showing kindness to people, many of whom are not able or willing to be kind back. In fact, sometimes that is almost all I do. At the end of the day, a lot of the time I feel pretty entitled to have people at least let me be in peace. But in taking care of money, insurance, licensure, other adult things...it just never seems to stop. It is almost like no one else tries to help me as much as I help others.

What is even more discouraging is that even at work, nothing I do ever seems good enough for my employer. I could have just gotten done with my magnum opus of counseling sessions, putting in all the energy I possibly could, only to open a scathing email from my employer concerning an overdue diagnostic assessment that I have had no time for due to trying to actually meet with as many clients as I can due to the demands of my employer! I am so ready to leave my job, but after examining other places I am realizing that they are all the same. Sometimes I consider leaving my job to work in a department store, simply because it seems so much better than being nice to people all day with little to no appreciation - but plenty of criticism over my paperwork.

I have no doubt in my mind that I am doing the best I can with my life right now, but it is just not enough. Is this all I went through school for, worked for, lived 26 years for?

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream to quit being an adult.

Things that are OK.

I am OK.

Just OK, though. Not especially good. But not especially bad, either.

I went to a job interview today. I was worried about it, but it wound up being pretty easy. Too easy. In fact, that was the only good thing about today. I did OK at an interview.

Everything else was pretty bad. I ended up not visiting anyone I wanted to visit in Cincinnati. I'm pretty sure the place I interviewed at is a terrible job where they treat you like cattle and work you to death until you quit or get fired. Is that what I worked all this time for? To get in a job like that?

My little brother has a girlfriend now. She's nice, I like her. They are both great together. They seem happy. I hope they are together for a long time. I thought I would be jealous of his happiness but I'm not. I'm just OK. I'm OK with the fact that nothing seems to really work out for me and that I've given up on dating relationships for...I don't know. As long as it takes for it to be OK to date again...or try to.

Why am I OK with these things? I don't know that I am. I just feel OK. I can think about all the people I can't call but I wish would call me and then just...not think about it for a while. I'm not numb. I'm just acclimated to this stuff.

Before long I'll have to decide where to go from here. What do I do with my life? I suck air and eat food and drink water and go on. I do the best I can do with what I have. I feel nihilistic but I try to think Catholic. I hold on to hope. Sometimes.

What else can I do?

There was a dream that I dreamed, an OK dream.

The Long Defeat.

"I am a Christian, and indeed a Roman Catholic, so that I do not expect 'history' to be anything but a 'long defeat' – though it contains (and in a legend may contain more clearly and movingly) some samples or glimpses of final victory." - J.R.R. Tolkien

I keep coming back to this quote because I believe it applies to my life. I know it is cliche to talk broadly about one's life, but really. More often than not, I really feel like I'm just getting beaten.

I was talking with a friend who is undergoing similar circumstances, and at one point in our conversation we came to the same conclusion: we have no idea what we're doing.

I think we all grew up with this notion that all adults know what they're doing. Our parents know everything and are completely capable. How wrong we were. I really feel like all we ever are is clueless until we die, with the only advantage of age being a little more experience. How I wish it were different.

I feel like I'm just along for the ride sometimes, and no matter how hard I try, control is just out of my reach.

Me too.

All I can ever really do is just keep trying, but sometimes it just feels ridiculous how little progress I make. That's what makes me feel clueless - I think if I truly knew what I was doing, I'd be doing better.

So, I am living this long defeat, awaiting final victory that has already been won for me. But there's so much I'd like to do before I get there. Like get married, God willing.

I think I could have gotten married. I might have been engaged by now, at least. But I ended that relationship half a year ago, today, I think. It was a good decision - don't get me wrong - but I lost more from breaking it off than she did. I always thought that I was more replaceable to her than she was to me. I think she's the only one who ever really knew me in the way she did - something that I'd wanted for a long, long time. Turns out I was right. Here I am, single months later with no real hope of dating anyone anytime soon, and she's started a relationship. I've never been more upset finding out I was right. I am disposable.

I've been writing letters lately to people whom I really feel are important to me. At the same time, I'm discovering how unimportant I am to most people. I really feel like there are just three people who would miss me - really miss me - if I were gone. All I can do is whine about it like a little kid on this stupid blog and hope that someday, if I just continue being patient and nice to people, that might change.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream of the end of the long defeat.

Goodbyes.

Goodbyes are definitely the hardest part of any friendship.

I can always feel a hard goodbye coming on. Someone who is dreading a goodbye always starts to remember things out loud. They'll make more of an effort to say hi and spend a few more minutes with you when they might not have. They'll be more generous and all-around friendly, not that they weren't before but it will seem like they are trying to fit in every good thing they can do to their friends because they may not get another chance.

Well, I try to make them feel special. Because really, the greatest fear of anyone saying goodbye is that they will be forgotten. That's what my Mom's greatest fear when she died: that we would forget her. So I make sure they know they won't be forgotten. I try, anyway. Throw a party for them...give them a card. Something.

I like to think I'm good at finding the right things to say to make it better. There is a phrase I like that goes "No two christians say goodbye for the last time." Although, it makes it sound like it supports the "once saved, always saved" fallacy, so most of the time I change it to "No true christians say goodbye for the last time." I try to say some nice things I will always remember about the person and how I will always remember and appreciate them.

The problem is I am usually not the best person to be saying those things...so it always feels pretty empty. I always wish my words were coming out of someone else's mouth, notably one of their closer friends.

But it's always better to at least say something.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream to see you again.