I Don't Give Up

I want to give up every day. I want to give up on life, on love, on happiness, on dreams, on myself, on the humiliation of being beaten now over 30 times in a row at chess by the same person. Every day. But, I can’t. I won’t. I want to, but I won’t. I don’t give up.

I’ve had people tell me all my life they believed in me, but they lied. As I tried to avoid watching everyone I know honoring their fathers and celebrating with their families yesterday, I hid among the aliens on my XBoxOne playing Destiny. Even there, I couldn’t escape facing another temptation to give up.

Casual readers can skip the next few paragraphs, because unless you play Destiny you might not understand the gravity of what I’m about to write. Those who do play, just shake your head and continue on.

Yesterday I woke up determined to have a good day. I’d been a little stressed lately, extremely lonely, and my melancholy had effected my playtime. However, I was buzzing with excitement at 7am ready to conquer the things I’d recently failed, namely the Level 35 Prison of Elders. By this time I have tried to beat Skolas five times and have failed every time. Yet, ALL my friends have fought on to victory, claimed their banners, received their rewards, and sent me their wishes of sympathy. Some tried desperately to help me out, but I still failed to claim the victory. Most of them, now complete with their goals on Destiny moved onto The Elder Scrolls and left me behind - still incomplete, still failing to meet my goals, still battling the desire to give up – every day.

By 9 am, after cooking my son breakfast, doing a few light chores, and making sure I would be comfortable, I jumped onto Destiny ready to win – no matter how long it took. I wasn’t giving up.

By 3:30 pm, after zipping through the first five levels and then facing Skolas again - and again - and again - and again - and again - and again (get the picture), the trio I was with decided to take a little break, get something to eat, and re-energize to continue our fight. We tried strategy after strategy, each time getting closer and closer, yet not quite enough to bring the beast down. We were hopeful we would finish soon, yet determined we’d stick it out, no matter how long it took. We were nearly 6 hours in already, too much was already invested to stop now.

I stayed in airlock (This is the waiting station at Skolas. We couldn’t log off. Logging off would mean we’d have to start all over and go through 5 levels again just to get to the point to battle Skolas), and kept moving around to keep from lagging out, talking with my friend in game chat, and just chillin’ until our third party returned. However, the universe had other plans for me. My friend and I were booted from the fire team and sent to orbit. Thank you Destiny servers – you can kiss my ass! Our third player didn’t return in time, and due to inactivity (he was away from his controller) was kicked to orbit too. Bottom line: we lost our place, our check point.

I was devastated. 6 hours. I’d put in six excruciating hours. My wrists hurt, my fingers were stiff, my shoulders ached from six hours of intense battle. Now my stomach hurt. I mean, it literally hurt like someone punched me really hard. I left the party chat, stepped away from my game, and didn’t even make it to my bed before the tears of frustration began to spill down my face. I’d failed… again… for the 6th time… after 6 hour. I tried to reach out to a friend for encouragement, but got a pithy remark reminding me how fast he completed the challenge, and advised I wait till the new DLC comes out, level up, and then go back to beat Skolas - meaning I was a shit player and couldn’t do it at my current level, which happens to be the highest level in the game. He wouldn’t even play with me to try again. I don’t blame him, who’d want to play with someone who’s tried and failed six time already?

I felt like shit. I felt like giving up. I felt like the weight of the world, the weight of the stress that’d been gnawing at me for days, eating me from the inside out, finally came flooding out. Why had I been stressed? Why had I been so intense? Why did I walk around with this huge knot in my throat? As I lay on my bed and stared at the sunlight beaming down on a branch just outside my window, I let the thoughts I’d been trying to suppress rush to the forefront of my mind. I was alone. I had no father to celebrate, to honor. I had no family that needed me anymore. I had just spent two days with some of my kids – and their presence (which I loved more than I can ever say) reminded me just how lonely and isolated I’d become, and it was of my own making. I’d pushed everyone out of my life, except my kids.

I thought I was going to die. I’d been diagnosed with cancer. But, I didn’t give up fighting, and I beat death, and now I’m forced to face the shattered mess I’d made of my life. I realized I had surrounded myself with people that couldn’t disappoint or hurt me by giving up on me – because that’s what had happened. All the people I pushed out of my life, that I had loved and thought loved me too – had given up on me. They let me walk away, alone. They didn’t fight for me. I fought alone. They just left.

Fuck them! Fuck every single one of them. I don’t need them. Clearly the last few years have proved that. I didn’t give up on me. I might have created a mess, have to start all over in a lot of things, but I didn’t give up. I get up every day and I fight for my life, for my happiness, for my health, for my passions, for my dreams, for my heart. Some days are harder than others, and some days I fall back a few steps, but some days I take off running. I love, even when I know I’m not loved in return.

I wiped my tears, washed my face, grabbed a bottle of water, and jumped on LFG and found me two players. I took control, led the battle, and kicked Skolas’ ass in less than 50 minutes. Don’t ever tell me to give up!

I - don’t - give – up! I also don’t hang onto what’s given up on me.

I will eventually conquer the things that are important in my life, or I will die trying. I will someday find someone who will fight for me as much as I fight for myself. Someday I will call out, “Check Mate, Bitches!”

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Melancholic Optimist

My emotions are all over the place today.  Perhaps it’s because my hormones are running rampant - my baby girl turned twenty, a budding relationship seems to have withered, I work all the time and it doesn’t seem I get anywhere, yet at the same time appreciated and admired for my abilities, talent, inspiration, and professionalism. I miss my kids like crazy. So many things have changed, yet some things still remain the same.  At the same time I’m excited and energetic this morning.  I had a GREAT workout, pushed myself a little further, a little harder (having gained over 2 lbs this week – I’m thinking because of the crepes), one of my writers are about to launch their first book, got a lot of editing done on another writer’s manuscript, my collaboration on my own current WIP is still going strong, and my prospects for the future are wide-open.

I suppose this emotional roller coaster has been coming on for the last few days.  It always happens when I’ve been with the “family”.  Friday night, I helped my daughter celebrate her upcoming 20th birthday with my ‘former’ family.  I’m beginning to hate those gatherings, because they remind me of what I left behind, what I left to pursue, and what I’ve not yet obtained.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret for one second my decision to leave, but there are some things my decision cost me that hurts me to the deepest part of my soul.  For a brief moment in time, I had my family back. Then as we all climbed in our cars and went our separate ways, I’m reminded I don’t have a family anymore.

My children love me and I will always have a relationship with them, and they will always be my family.  But when I decided to separate from my husband, I lost something that was very precious to me – all the rest of the family I had. Having been estranged from my parents and siblings, my husband’s family became mine.  So, when I left him, I lost them too.  Their lives continue on without me.  They still all gather together to celebrate every birthday, holiday, and special event.  I wasn’t invited to the last two – because they didn’t involve my children.  That’s okay, I know I’m not part of the family anymore, and that was my choice.  They have their Thursday night dinners and their Sunday brunches.  They’re there for each other, see each other almost on a daily basis, take vacations together, their lives keep moving forward, without skipping a beat, not falling apart without me, not even missing me for that matter.  I go home alone, eat alone, sleep alone, work out alone, vacation alone, go on my adventures alone, celebrate my victories alone, and mourn my failures alone.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself or even sad that I do everything alone. I’m actually growing fond of being alone.  It was new for me, having never been alone in my whole life.  It’s taken some getting used to, but I am, and there are lots of things about it that I’m learning to enjoy, especially the part where other people’s decisions no longer keep me from doing things I truly enjoy.  But, I’m angry that I haven’t reached many of the emotional goals I’ve set for myself.  I’ve accomplished a lot in these last few years – done some amazing things that I’m so proud for accomplishing.  I know, without any doubt, there’s nothing I can’t do.  It doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll find a way.  It’s those things that I can’t obtain by sheer determination and hard work that continue to allude me. Those things that depend on someone else.  Will I ever trust someone else again? I don’t know if I can.

I want what everyone wants – to matter, to be loved.  Being with my former family is a reminder that I didn’t matter.  I’m not needed, not wanted, and their lives continue on without me.  Even to my close friends I have now, who happen to all live in separate parts of the world very far away from me, I essentially don’t matter.  Should I disappear tomorrow, they may miss my drama, but their lives will continue on without missing a step, because I’m not an integral part of their world.  I couldn’t have made it these last couple of years without them, but they in turn have never needed me.  So, what happens when I don’t need them as much anymore?  Will they just disappear from my lives too? It’s what I feel happening all the time.  I hear from them less and less every day. That’s what I fear. Yet, at the same time, know that if they do – I will survive.

I had a friend ask me lately why I let people so easily walk out of my life, why I don’t fight to keep them in it?  It’s simple really.  Holding onto someone that doesn’t love you and want to stay in your life doesn’t help you – it only hurts worse.  The pain of losing someone breaks your heart, but it’s not as destructive as much as loving someone that doesn’t love you back.  That destroys your soul.  I’ve already had to restore my soul from death a few times before – I don’t want to do it again.

So, on this Monday morning filled with emotional madness, I smile, and I cry, and I breathe.  I tell myself it’ll get better.  I take a moment to be thankful for all that I have been given.  I wish my daughter a happy birthday and try to impart a few words of wisdom. I exercise.  I go to work, and I live one moment at a time – and I choose to live the best I know how.  It’s all I can do. Who knows what will happen in the next moment.

Till next time,

~The Melancholic Optimist

Broken Vessel

Broken Vessel

I had an existential moment this morning as I got ready for work. It was something simple, but it sent me over the edge.  Perhaps it’s from exhaustion having spent all day yesterday in the hot, humid Georgia heat with a few hundred young, hot soldiers, having only gotten a few hours of sleep the night before, and just waking after only a few hours of sleep on a second night. Needless to say – my thoughts ran on autopilot.  I was simply too tired to try and control them.

I was brushing my hair and putting my long bangs into a clip when I looked into my eyes.  I didn’t mean to.  I wasn’t thinking about anything other than getting my hair pinned, grabbing my lunch, and then leaving for work.  But there she was looking me – this woman I’ve come to know over the past few years, and suddenly I’m just weeping.  Not crying, not balling, but feeling this uncontrollable pressure clench the center of my stomach and push upward, squeezing my lungs, and then pushing even further, spilling tears down my cheeks.

I couldn’t understand why I was crying. It was beyond words.  I wanted to hug that image in the mirror crying back at me. I wrapped my arms tight around me and squeezed as hard as I could… and then anger bubbled up and shot out at me.  It’s like I heard her shouting in my heart, “THAT’s the problem right there.”

I didn’t understand what she meant.  What problem?

Flashes of bits of conversations, various scenes of my life, and the glimpses of real souls behind real eyes fluttered through my  mind.  I saw smiles of hope yesterday in three other sets of eyes – hope for what could be – hope for the possibilities that lay ahead.  Two from a young pair meeting for the first time, and one from a friend who seems to have met someone who can make him smile.  In those moments – those specific quiet moments where we find ourselves reaching out in darkness – that’s when we see the truth.  We see our hopes, fears, wants and needs – and the fullness or lack of their fulfillment.  We also see who stands beside us or if we walk alone.

I have wonderful friends, some of the best friends in the world who encourage me, teach me, listen to me, and put up with my craziness, but all these friends who are close to me are far from me too. They can’t hug me and tell me everything is going to be okay.  Often they are lines of black font floating through my life.  Though they are there, they’re not there.  I can’t see the excitement or pain in their eyes.  I can’t hold them, nor can they hold me.  I can’t SHARE my life with them, because they’re not here when I really need them. We don’t get to experience anything together – just my retelling of what I did on my own.  In essence, I am all alone.

Several times yesterday, SEVERAL, I wanted to nudge my best friend and tell him, “Look, did you see that?  Did you hear what they just said? Isn’t this the best? Did you see what I just did, can you believe it?”  On the other hand, I had another friend standing in front of me most of the day texting all their happy moments to someone else.  That used to be me on the other side of that phone, but I’ve somehow managed to push them away, and I’ve since put up my walls and closed the lid on yet another box.  More than likely when I get home today, I’ll Skype my best girlfriend and tell her all about my great adventure yesterday – because she too is someone that isn’t here, that I can’t see or touch.  She misses so many moments… because those moments have to wait for the ‘retelling’. I have to wait to hear what’s been going on in her life.  As a best friend – I should know and I should be there experiencing them with her.  I know this is my doing – surrounding myself with ‘unavailable’ people.

Severely sleep deprived, exhausted after a hot, yet exciting, day I had a long drive to face last night through a tempest storm.  At one point the lightning was so bad, the wind so strong, and the rain so hard, I lost complete visibility and had to pull over (in a dark, remote area where my cell reception was shoddy) and wait it out.  I could barely keep my eyes open already, so tired it hurt to breathe, and sitting and waiting only made me more tired.  I was scared – scared of the storm and falling asleep behind the wheel.  I needed someone to help calm those fears and to keep me awake.  I never felt so alone.  Ever.  They were not there for me. I believe that was the moment I realized how alone I truly was, but through the exhaustion, it took until the next morning as I was brushing my hair to feel it.

The sad part to this whole tale is this – my three best friends are all very comfortable being alone.  They mention it all the time about how they like being on their own, how they don’t need or want anyone else, how they like their lives just the way they have them – single, alone, content.  Perhaps that’s why they’re my friends. I’ve been alone my whole life – even when I was married, I was still alone.  But, I’m not like them.  I don’t want to be alone. I don’t think they do either, no matter what they say, it’s just not with me they want to share their life.   I want someone to love me and want to share their life with me just as much as I want to share my life with them.  I’m so tired of feeling like a burden to these introverts.  I’m an extrovert.  They all have had love, but chose to be alone because it’s what they wanted.  I’ve never had love and I didn’t choose to be alone, I chose to leave the circumstances that kept me alone.  I’m tired of feeling like what I want is ‘wrong’.

I want them in my life… IN MY LIFE… not just black font and an occasional video call.  But they have to want to be in my life too.   I can’t keep waiting and hiding myself away with people who don’t really want someone in their lives.  I’m not talking about not being their friend anymore – I love them dearly.  But, I may have to change the dynamic of our friendships. I can’t survive too many mornings like this one – because no matter how tight I wrap my arms around myself, I can’t hold together a million shattered pieces.  I’m a broken vessel that has been slowly putting myself together these last few years.  Sometimes, I need someone to help me hold them together.  I don’t like to be touched, and I don’t want to be hugged by an acquaintance.  I’m talking about a real friend that I love as much as they love me.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I don’t have several men who would like to have a relationship with me, the kind of relationship I’m seeking.  But, the kind of relationship I want is the kind where both parties want each other.  I could love a nice guy – I did for 20 years.  But, I want to love one that sets my soul on fire.  I don’t need another ‘friend’.  I don’t want to be the woman they confide in, share their thoughts, dreams and problems with, while they share their smiles, love, and passion with someone else.  I’m foolish enough to want all of them – to share all of me.

The truly sad part – I don’t think it will ever happen.  I don’t believe anymore.  I’ve been told one too many times that I’m just too much, or I’m not enough, and especially… I just want to be friends.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray



P.s. – Please don’t comment on this post.  I’m overflowing with relationship platitudes that may work on other people, but frankly I just don’t want to hear them anymore.  This blog is for me to vent the pain that’s inside me.  I’m TRULY not seeking inspiration or relationship advice. I also don’t want your sorrow or pity. I’ve received enough of those to last a lifetime.