With a little help from my friends

One of my best friends is 20 years old (though the countdown is on to her 21st birthday and my return to the Classic City).

 
She’s like the little sister I always wanted (instead of the one I ended up with…which is a story for another day).

Anyway, she’s wise beyond her years and she doesn’t even know it.

I remember being that way.

Unsure. Afraid. Alone. Insecure.

Mostly just afraid though.

Of everything.

Afraid of being alone. Afraid of meeting people so I wouldn’t be alone. Afraid of the sound coming from the utility closet in my first apartment on my very first night there when I was ALL ALONE because my roommate had to go home for something or other.

I’ve spent most of my life being afraid of being alone.

I’ve been wondering this week why I’m blogging.  I feel like I’m in a rut. I tweeted asking for advice about what to do when you feel like you’re in a rut and got back a couple of responses:

“Scour the news for topics!”

“Don’t write if you don’t feel it!”

Both of those are great ideas.

On one hand, I don’t have time to scour the news for topics, and I don’t know if that fits my “niche.” On the other hand, if I don’t write when I don’t feel it, I may stop writing altogether and then this becomes a wasteland and I fade off into oblivion and y’all are all “Miranda who?” and I’m alone again. And I’ve worked too hard to make this the comfy little place it is now to let that happen.

My wise-beyond-her-years-yet-unaware-of-her-wisdom friend emailed me today:

“Hi friend. You seem down in the dumps lately 🙁 It makes me sad. Is everything ok? I’m always here if you need to vent/ talk. Unfortunately I don’t have any words to send you. After all, I don’t understand them, how can I send them. :)”  

She’s been going through a really difficult time lately, and despite the fact that it’d be easy for her to get all bogged down in her own troubles, she thought of me.

I just don’t know if I know exactly how to express to y’all how that feels. That someone thought of me first.

You see, I’m incapable of putting myself first, or even remotely near the top of my own priority list. That’s why I’m constantly burning all candles at all possible ends at all hours of the day.

I’m burned out. On almost everything.

I’ve been whining and complaining a lot on here lately, and I’m thankful for those of y’all who’ve stuck with me. But this can’t just be a place I come to whine and complain all the time. I want to tell stories. I want to inspire. I want to…write.

I said as much to her in my response and she responded with the following:

“Your blog is your place to vent though you know? It’s YOURS. Plus, you always have good feedback and sure it may seem like you’re venting a lot right now, but you’re going through a tough time. There’s nothing wrong with you using that space to vent. I love reading your blog and whether it is you venting or not, you just have a way of writing that does inspire people. Most people wouldn’t talk about some of the things you talk about on your blog, and that in itself is inspiring. It’s inspiring because I read that and think, ‘Wow, I shouldn’t be afraid or nervous to talk about my problems’.”

And now?

Now there are tears in my eyes after reading her response a few more times. Because she’s like my starfish or something. (And I just read it AGAIN and I’m choking up AGAIN.)

She went on to say:

“You and I are very much alike. We worry too much about other people and what other people think and no matter how much we shouldn’t, we still do. You’ve talked before about how your location of where you live is hard because you don’t have your friends and family close by. Well, I feel the same way. I have my roommates who I guess are like the equivilent of your Dan and Joshua, only minus the intimate relationship and child part… Ok. Maybe that was a bad analogy, but work with me here!”

I SO worry too much about what other people think when I should really just worry about what I think. What I feel.

And that’s what I should write, too.

Dan came home tonight and I was sitting at the kitchen table and Joshua was in his high chair and Dan said “Wow. This is just…this is cool.” And I was all “Uhhh….???” And he says “Our family. We’re a family.”

And we are a family.

And I’m not alone anymore.

And neither are you, E. Never ever alone.