Let's talk about me

Let’s talk about me for a second. I bet you’re thinking, isn’t that what you do on this blog you narcissistic boob. In my head a black and white cartoon character was saying that then promptly took off his white glove to slap me across the face with it. To that I would say, “Of course you know, this means war.” But to the non-animated folks I would counter with, “No, no it is not what I write about all the time.”

But as Toby Keith put it, “I want to talk about me, I want to talk about I, want to talk about No. 1,” just for right now.

 So, the other night I tweeted this:

Let's just talk about how much I hate myself right now. What the eff is wrong with me?
— Amanda Heisey (@AmandaHeisey) December 3, 2012

Being a closet emo high school kid is a hard habit to break even into adulthood apparently. Oh, and I used to do theater, I’m pretty positive drama just courses through your veins after that for the rest of your life.

And I know people are probably thinking, why is she complaining? She has a lot going for her; she has a good job, lives in a beautiful place, so on and so forth. Or you’re going, that’s not funny, there are people that really struggle with hating themselves. And to all of you I say, yes I totally understand all of that and am well aware. You have no idea how aware I am of all of those things. I’m aware times infinity.

This does not, however, dismiss the fact that the other night I was really angry with myself. Don’t tell me you are happy and content all the time with the choices and decisions you make. Actually, if you are a person that has somehow managed to not feel remorse or regret things, you should probably tell me how you accomplished that feat. Unless you are like a cold-blooded killer (There’s Dexter again. My bad.)

But I am still riding the struggle bus when it comes to making good or not so good decisions. I’m pretty sure this comes from the fact that I have no idea what I want out of life. Not that I think everything needs to be planned, but having some sort of direction isn’t a bad thing I would assume.  

This whole thing came to a head partly because I feel as though many of my other friends have their lives together with long-term relationships; engaged, married, one even had a child on purpose. ON PURPOSE I tell you. I want a cat right now, but I’m a little nervous about how that would go, and one of my friends has another human being depending on her.

See, this is why people think Disney movies are bad influences on children. Pocahontas didn’t know where her path led but she had a magic talking willow tree to help her out. Where’s my enchanted vegetation? I’d settle for a smarmy palm tree (being in Florida I feel like that’s more likely than Grandmother Willow.)

Part of my frustration lies, not only in the fact that I am pretty jealous of my friends with their shit together, but because I do feel like, little by little, I’m actually gaining some control over my life. It just isn't quite there yet. While I’m making so much progress it’s difficult to realize I continuously make the same mistakes over and over again while improving other aspects of my life. And even though I think I know what I need to do, it’s like impossible to do it. Not impossible just very, very hard.

I suppose I sound pretty weak then, huh? I wrote that I hate myself because it’s just so difficult to know what you probably should do and to mindfully make a questionable choice. Then you judgers may say, “Why didn’t you just do what you know is right?”

Because, my apparently moral friends, it’s effing hard. OK? There are all of those what-ifs and the thought that things could be different for me and not suck if I make the slightly more reckless decision.  But I am most likely the rule and not the exception to the rule. Alas. 

Here's to struggling with, you know, life. Cheers to everyone out there being equally as stupid as me. Next time we're out we can take a shot to celebrate our frustration, or to take out our frustration, whatever works.