still sick, but not so sad

18 Aug

I feel so ill. I’ve been coughing every few minutes all morning and all last night. And I’m not even talking those wimpy clear-your-throat coughs: I mean real, deep, guttural noises that burn your throat and leave greeny-yellow mucus in your mouth. Disgusting. Plus when I lie down, all the congestion goes to one side of my head, and the difference in pressure gives me a headache (and one stuffy nose). At least I get to sleep in. My dad wouldn’t hear of me going to church today, even though it’s definitely one of the last times I’d see my friends before I or they go to college.
Last night as I was trying to sleep, physically miserable, I had plenty of time to think over the emotional miserable I’d been feeling. Yesterday wasn’t great. I went to girl-neighbor’s house for a grad/going away party. While there, I gathered that Shortredhair was soon having an event that I wasn’t invited to. I think it was some classy dinner or something. I guess I wasn’t invited because I don’t have a boyfriend to take as my date. I’m tempted to say that because 1) I’m plenty classy as classy as anyone else in our group and 2) Shortredhair pretty consistently invites me to her bonfires. So I didn’t mind that too much.
But it did bother me that my friend Greece had a bonfire after Girl-neighbor’s party. I was definitely NOT invited to that, not by Greece. This is the second time I’ve heard about her hosting a bonfire without me on the invite list. Rational Me figures she doesn’t have enough room for all of her friends. I don’t know, I guess it still hurt because I thought we were better friends than that.
I know. I’m overly sensitive to this kind of stuff, but it got me down nonetheless. I spiraled into that I-have-no-friends-and-no-guys mentality, which is never a good place. So when I woke up this morning to read a drunk text from Bambi (who left for college earlier this week) saying how pretty I am and how I just need to believe it… it made me happy. I know that he was wasted out of his mind. So what? The text was sweet and it brightened what might have been a really crappy day.

I don’t need someone to tell me I’m pretty all the time for me to be happy. (It doesn’t hurt.) I know that’s how it sounds from reading this blog. It’s the same story over and over: girl gets sad and lonely, girl gets complimented or invited someplace and then gets happy. I think it’s a bit more complex than that, though.
Maybe it’s just me, but I get the feeling that we all have triggers that can change our mood in an instant. For me, hearing my friends discuss an event I’m not invited to triggers my loneliness and my self-loathing. By the same token, someone I trust or someone with no reason to lie giving me a compliment can bring me back, snap me out of it, trigger my sense of optimism. It doesn’t mean I can’t get there myself. It just speeds up the process, like a catalyst or an enzyme. The reaction will happen over time, compliment or no.
Further, I think the reason you hear all about my bad days is that writing is therapeutic. It’s like stirring the concoction to make the reactants collide sooner. You don’t necessarily need a catalyst when you have a stirrer, and I don’t have to rely solely on compliments or invites when I have a pen.
Or, you know. Keyboard.

Image taken from some random website.


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