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Something breakable just under her skin
Dec. 4th, 2003 10:31 pmEvery once in a while, my husband reminds me that I'm certifiably insane.
I've long had strong tendencies towards moodiness. I've never really had a problem with depression or anything that needs clinical treatment or anything like that.. I'm just a little moody. I spent a year or two in college a very bitter and angry girl, but that's about as far as it goes, and that was slightly warranted, if admittedly overdone--but that's not tonight's story. Actually, that's probably not any night's story, unless I take a hankering to let the world know how dumb I can be, which seems like an unlikely topic to write about. In retrospect, though, I think a lot of my general moodiness was related to being an introvert in an extrovert world. I didn't really realize the toll that being social took on me, and I was supposed to enjoy things that I didn't enjoy.
These days, I'm taken completely by surprise when a dose of melancholy hits me. It's just not something that happens much anymore. It wasn't a strong episode this evening, but it was a particularly irritating one, for some reason. I wanted to sulk for a while all alone on the couch to the sounds of rain pounding on a tin roof before going off to eat Chinese and talk about New York with M, which is something that we did more than once, not long after we got married. Someone he worked with at Dell was there a little illegally, and her husband had started a company, etc etc. We weren't too keen on actually moving to New York, but the possibilities of what we could actually do were endless then, and we had long animated discussions on what we wanted to do when I graduated, and the world was all shiny and bright and newlywed. Anyway, that was not the point, just that I wanted to console myself with potatoes. (Our Chinese restaraunt inexplicably has extremely delicious potatoes, and you know me and my abnormal fixation with root vegetables.) But I couldn't sit alone and sulk or even go eat a plate full of potatoes and noodles, I had to go be social with the parents for dinner and that wasn't helping matters, so I was annoyed with everything for a little while.
When M got home, he didn't make a big deal out of cheering me up. He just reminded me through the simple act of being here (and being a little extra sweet) that there's nothing in our little world worth being moody about.. and the really neat thing is that he's right. He hugged me a lot, and made me take a nap. Now I'm all warm and awake and it seems like a long time ago that I was stressed out over.. whatever it was. I'm not completely chipper or anything--he's good, but I'm still crazy. But the edge is gone, at least.
Everyone should have someone who makes them nap now and then.
On a lighter note, my aunt works at an elementary school. She walked through the ISS room (in school suspension) and saw this one little guy sitting there, so she asked him what he'd done to get himself in trouble. His response? "I was hugging my friend and I accidentally put my hands around his throat." Rofl. It's so funny how kids rewrite history. Well. It's funny unless you're faced with say, child molestation charges that you're innocent of, I guess.
I've long had strong tendencies towards moodiness. I've never really had a problem with depression or anything that needs clinical treatment or anything like that.. I'm just a little moody. I spent a year or two in college a very bitter and angry girl, but that's about as far as it goes, and that was slightly warranted, if admittedly overdone--but that's not tonight's story. Actually, that's probably not any night's story, unless I take a hankering to let the world know how dumb I can be, which seems like an unlikely topic to write about. In retrospect, though, I think a lot of my general moodiness was related to being an introvert in an extrovert world. I didn't really realize the toll that being social took on me, and I was supposed to enjoy things that I didn't enjoy.
These days, I'm taken completely by surprise when a dose of melancholy hits me. It's just not something that happens much anymore. It wasn't a strong episode this evening, but it was a particularly irritating one, for some reason. I wanted to sulk for a while all alone on the couch to the sounds of rain pounding on a tin roof before going off to eat Chinese and talk about New York with M, which is something that we did more than once, not long after we got married. Someone he worked with at Dell was there a little illegally, and her husband had started a company, etc etc. We weren't too keen on actually moving to New York, but the possibilities of what we could actually do were endless then, and we had long animated discussions on what we wanted to do when I graduated, and the world was all shiny and bright and newlywed. Anyway, that was not the point, just that I wanted to console myself with potatoes. (Our Chinese restaraunt inexplicably has extremely delicious potatoes, and you know me and my abnormal fixation with root vegetables.) But I couldn't sit alone and sulk or even go eat a plate full of potatoes and noodles, I had to go be social with the parents for dinner and that wasn't helping matters, so I was annoyed with everything for a little while.
When M got home, he didn't make a big deal out of cheering me up. He just reminded me through the simple act of being here (and being a little extra sweet) that there's nothing in our little world worth being moody about.. and the really neat thing is that he's right. He hugged me a lot, and made me take a nap. Now I'm all warm and awake and it seems like a long time ago that I was stressed out over.. whatever it was. I'm not completely chipper or anything--he's good, but I'm still crazy. But the edge is gone, at least.
Everyone should have someone who makes them nap now and then.
On a lighter note, my aunt works at an elementary school. She walked through the ISS room (in school suspension) and saw this one little guy sitting there, so she asked him what he'd done to get himself in trouble. His response? "I was hugging my friend and I accidentally put my hands around his throat." Rofl. It's so funny how kids rewrite history. Well. It's funny unless you're faced with say, child molestation charges that you're innocent of, I guess.
