There was, however, a revelation. In the midst of all this misery I had time to talk to Forest, and actually, it turns out that he's not working all these hours out of some insane desire for more money. He's doing it because he is obligated to do it. He promised these people his time, so he's driven to fulfill that promise.
It seems like a minute difference, but to me, it feels EXTREMELY better. I don't have to worry anymore that it's just a case of my not holding up my end of the financial situation, or wonder if he was just plain a money-hungry person. You know, like those baby boomers who work 80 hour weeks, because they aren't willing to settle for a normal person's salary, they just have to have that overtime? I was worried that's what he was getting into. I'm really glad it's not. I understand obligation. I'm at work today even though I feel like ass because I promised Earl I'd make a deadline by monday, and come hell or high water, I will do it. Obligation I completely understand.
I also have come to really appreciate Forest as a loving, supportive, true friend. This week in the midst of feeling really really sick, I got all sorts of gloomy, lost all perspective on life, and basically fell apart on him. He comforted me, held me until I stopped crying, and in his own way, pointed out to me that really I wasn't being true to myself in all of this. He's right, I'm not. Part of what I learned from my past is that I don't need to depend on the person that I'm with for my happiness. Hence, I don't need to feel this insecurity when I'm apart from people. The same holds true for my friends, my mom, or whoever. I'm happy to get to see them, and enjoy their company, but I'm happy on my own, too.
These are things I know as well as I know night from day. Once in a while I forget them, but generally, if I remember to be independently happy and that everything always changes, I'm okay. I'm even-keeled. At the end of my relationship with Jeff, I was doing pretty well in that regard. People who met me believed I had my shit together, and I'd have generally said they were right. I knew which way was up, I was fairly self-confident, and didn't let the world rock me about much.
After Jeff and I broke up I lost much of that somehow. I think part of the reason is that I had gotten used to thinking of my group of friends as my family. They really were. They supported me a lot, in their own way. We were together often, usually three nights a week, and frequently more. And that's when we weren't doing theatre together. I felt comfortable in that group. It is hard to describe, except to say that it reminds me of what Forest's family is like when they are all together. They are firmly there for each other, and catch each other when they fall, but most of the time it's an energy, a comraderie that is almost magical. Shelly had a good description of it in her journal last week, so I know I'm not alone in feeling this way.
Anyway, I always had the sense that they were a safety net before. I was on my own, confident and doing well, but I knew if something terrible happened, my friends would stick by me, and see me though it. I never imagined that would change, but it has, somehow. I think I let it happen, by moving away and not doing a very good job pestering them to keep in touch. It's strange to see them one on one sometimes, because that magical group dynamic isn't there.
It's ironic that even though I've spent my entire life insisting that I didn't need to be one of the sheep, I suddenly feel so exposed by being seperated from the flock.
When I realized this, a lot of things seemed to make a lot of sense all the sudden. I had been frustrated with myself a lot lately for feeling all akilter and losing my perspective so much, and desperately trying to figure out why I'd suddenly become this gibbering basket case. I think it's because I had unknowingly based a lot of who I was on the people I was with. I felt like a strong person, but I always knew I had that structure backing me up.
In fact, whether or not I still have that safety net, it's another thing I need to learn to detach myself from. I learned a few years ago that in order to be a secure, confident, happy adult I needed to not rely on my mom for reassurance and happiness. With Jeff I learned that I needed to not rely on my significant other for it, either. In fact, I really think the only way to be at peace with yourself is to be that way entirely independently, which means that even if I were still seeing my group of friends three or four nights per week, I need to teach myself that I can be happy and well-balanced without them if needsbe.
Which in turn would make me less stressed about how much time I do or don't get to spend with them, and would therefore make everyone involved more happy.
In my silly state I had been considering confronting Jeff, and asking him why he's not comfortable with my spending time with our friends, but that idea is quickly fading to a more peaceful approach. It occurs to me that while my group of friends mean a lot to me, it's senseless to cause anyone stress by making a lot of noise and demanding that they start inviting me when they get together. I need to learn to stand on my own two feet without my group to back me up. If I'm bored of alone time I ought to work on getting closer to them as individuals, anyway. It's something that we as a group tend not to do very often (seeing each other one on one, I mean). Last night I went for cocoa with Tiffiny toward that end, and have called to invite Yeffy and Reagan over to see my house.
After Charley's Aunt I will spend some more time with Andy, Shelly and Daryl. I'll need to find whole new ways to entertain these people, because as a group, we usually would get together to play games, or at least with the game as an excuse to get together. I don't own any games, and can't exactly run an AD&D group with each one of them, just to have an excuse to invite them to play. Andy doesn't usually like to come over and watch movies, or at least he's rarely in the mood for that, so I'll need to think of something clever for the easily bored.
All in its due time, though. For now, I'm going to sit back and enjoy a little bit of that peace that comes from cessation of internal struggle. It's nice to not be fighting myself, and pitting "what I want" against "what I really need". Instead, I think I'll be remembering who I am, where I am, and how I got here in the first place. If you want to read it, you can, but it's pretty boring.
