More like jumped up than woke up. I was panting a bit as I slowly laid back down. Reached for my phone to check the time. I've been sleeping almost ten hours. That's a ridiculous amount of sleep for an almost 23 year old. I laid there for another half hour, pondering what I had to do today: I came up with nothing. And this is the almost everyday routine for me. Most nights I sleep for more than enough hours, but toss and turn all night.
I'm prone to nightmares when I'm in a boring, seemingly inescapable rut. I'm constantly worried about where this is going to take me, if I'll ever get out of this situation, what I will become from this. These worries manifest themselves into weird, metaphorical monsters and visions that plague my dreams. Sometimes I have a few drinks in hope I'll have enough alcohol in my body to have a blank, dreamless sleep because at least then I won't be turning my fears into creatures.
But last night was no different then the nightmares I've been having these days. Same creepy figures, same weird situations similar to my own. I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. Debated as hot water pounded on my back attempting to make an omelet with cheese and broccoli, maybe trying my hand at hash browns. Stared at my computer screen in my robe for an hour before deciding to microwave a pizza instead, at 10:30 in the morning.
I look at my phone as I light up a cigarette, wondering who would be awake. Everyone I can come up with is working on finishing their last semesters of college, or working 9-5 at a big kid job. I've given up on college, I suppose. I could keep promising to return, but let's be honest here. I'm how old and I've been out of it for how many years? And even then, I despised studying and didn't believe in deadlines. Flirting with the idea of a degree is great, but acting on it is damn near impossible for me.
As for a career, without that lovely degree, its mighty hard getting one. Especially since I can't even find a job as simple as waitressing or retail. Mostly because I still hold onto the feeling that I'm better than most jobs. That I would rather eat shit than serve food again for people who don't tip. And retail is even more dreadful. Minimum wage to fold clothes and run around all day, and the embarrassment when those fucks from high school with their B.A.s and credit cards smirk at you as you go find their size in shoes. But is my self righteousness worth barely having money and spending my days glued to my couch? Suck it up, Caitlin, I tell myself. Its only for the moment.
But is it really? I've been holding jobs since I was 15. Back then, I was proud of myself for working full time and going to school. Then I began to loathe Morton West and was more frequently ditching class, most of the time I would even pick up shifts life guarding or hostessing. When I started college, I would be stressed the entire class, not focusing on what my next assignment was, but if I'd make it to my serving shift on time. Never ever putting an education first. And look where its got me. Now I loathe my full time jobs and dream of doing something I love, like writing, as my career.
My mom gets home from work. Yes, I also live at home still. Attempts at moving out would almost work and then fall through last minute, constantly, which is still the norm. I've never stopped trying to move out. I see my friends venturing out into the world, or at least to a place nearby where they can call their own. Jealousy and anger boil inside me. Mixed with the frustration that I can't hold down a job or stay in school. With a dash self deprecation, and just a pinch of regret. The coffee I'm sipping is not helping the fact that I'm so tired from the nights without pleasant dreams, its just making me more aware that my nightmares are just twisted versions of my actual reality.
And the concoction these feelings have conjured up shaking up and like a champagne bottle, my mom mentions one of my closest friends having a baby and the cork pops off. A shower of tears just burst out. I always bottle up my emotions and don't face them until they are taking up too much room in brain. They get rejected out through my eye balls, in the most pathetic of ways. And she asks whats wrong and she's the last person I want to break down infront of. I've never done anything to demand any sort of respect from her. I just repeatedly show her how unmotivated and weak I am.
I break down because I no longer have someone to complain about my life, or lack there of, to. Everyone I know is growing up, intentionally and accidentally. I explain to her how as much as I've wanted to become a better person, I can't. I tell her how I'm going to miss all my friends as they're busy living these adult lives, how pictures on Facebooks of their beautiful weddings and kids dressed up for Halloween are just mocking me.
I choke out, "Everyone I know is growing up without me." By this point, I'm really disgusted with myself. I feel if I looked at this puffy eyed version of myself in the mirror, I'd spew chunks.
Last night, I was in a completely numb state of mind, the exact opposite of how I am this ironically sunny morning. I'm always more awake at night time, even though my thoughts have been racing all day. So I bring up the most recent news that turned my world upside down. He laughs, stating he will not settle down till he's 50, hoping he still can charm a woman when his hair isn't as pretty as it is now. I imagine our creased faces, laughing at our friends and their "perfect" lives, downing a beer at the same bar we frequent almost every week. We turn on the show we watch every week and I'm overjoyed at the preview of next weeks' episode. And I think how perfectly content I'd be to have an individual to never grow up with. The last spinsters, so to speak. Its not until just now that this thought depresses me more than anything.
"Every moment leads to its own sad end" resounds from the Mountain Goats song I'm listening to as I type this. What if I never grow up and I don't even have one friend with the same Peter Pan like complex to share it with? If it was so simple to escape this fate, I'd escape it. Leave this place and start a new life. One fulfilling and lacking this dull yet exhausting existence. I'd give up all the memories of simple times when all I was surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than to sing and dance and drink the night away. Those memories do nothing but haunt me anyways.
And when those rare moments come and my "friends" want to go out, try to relive the fun we once had with a few drinks and laughs, I pass. I'd rather not force a smile as I get more tipsy. Alcohol usually helps me put on a fantastic front, but it used to be just an additive to having a wonderful night. Now, I stumble into my front door, trying not to wake up my family, and the best part of my night is being able to immediately pass out.
This too shall pass I constantly tell myself to break this depression I slump into. I usually do find a job, a new love interest, or something to distract me. So I have put this all into words. Lit a cigarette and stared at the sun and falling leaves. Laughed at how upset I've been all morning. It is nearly 3 in the afternoon. I called my best friend to come visit, to get me out of this house. Her husband's at work and she'll try to make it out today. I feel happy for her. Soon she'll find a better job and apartment and her and her husband will invite me over to see the new place. My goal is by that time to have something new to tell them about me when they ask.
I shall lift myself up soon and rebuild a new life. My usual rise and repeat, and maybe this time it will stick. Some sort of stability will find me. But I really need to get off my blog and stop feeling sorry for myself, take a walk or find something to do today. This computer screen gives me headaches.
