LJ Idol -- Crashing (Week 18)
therealljidol Topic of the Week: CRASHING
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VOTING HERE
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crash - verb
3. (of moving vehicles, objects, etc.) to collide, esp. violently and noisily.
A crash can depict a sudden stop. For instance, when I reached the Pennsylvania border that fateful winter day in early 2005, my car found itself stopped--with its muzzle lodged into a guard-rail. Was I paying attention to the road? Had I been over-confident in my snow-driving abilities? Had I turned onto the ramp too quickly? I still don't know for certain. I can still remember the crunch of tires and the acrid smell of the air-bag as it smashed into my face. When I opened my eyes, I looked out into the flurries of snow circling my car. "Have I died?" But I could feel my heartbeat; also, a man, not an angel, trudged hurriedly to my window to ask me if I was okay.
I lost my car that day. Little did I know that this significant and frightening event would jump-start my adult life.
Before long, my life spiraled in positive and negative directions. My measly job cut my hours to where I decided quitting was a more viable option than staying. With the convincing of my boyfriend, I made yet another decision, this time to uproot my life in Western Pennsylvania and move to Kentucky with him. I spent my entire childhood and young adulthood in the same yellow house, and in days I had made the choice to leave it behind. When friends discovered I was exiting the keystone state, they couldn't believe me. Everyone expected me to stay here and grow old and soft.
Instead, I moved to Kentucky and got a taste of living on my own. I landed my first real job, and I became financially independent from my mother. I've shared a home with my loving boyfriend, and in the meantime I've cultivated a few friendships. What a great way to launch into grown-up times. How proud of myself I was!
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crash - verb
9. Slang. to experience unpleasant sensations, as sudden exhaustion or depression, when a drug, esp. an amphetamine, wears off.
21. a sudden and violent falling to ruin.
Unfortunately, some of us don't see anything positive about a crash. We mistake crashes with mistakes and avoid them at all costs. The careful drivers will slow down to the point of possibly endangering those around us. And others will focus so closely on the road and their car that they no longer enjoy the scenery surrounding them.
To prevent future crashes in my life, I began to coast.
It wasn't as if I had never coasted through life. I had been coddled as a child; I wasn't spoiled, but my brother and I were never wanting for anything. To avoid choices, I applied to one college that appealed to me, and I attended it the following semester. Instead of finding a major that I could have used in the working world, I stuck to what felt safe--writing. Likewise, I stuck to boyfriends that were familiar and non-challenging. They loved me; I didn't have to fight to earn their affection.
After the quite literal crash that motivated much movement on my behalf, I had found myself coasting once again.
Some could blame my boyfriend. He made my interstate transition an easy one--he paid for my bills until I could find a job. I took the first job that was offered to me, and I have remained in this same job for almost a year. It doesn't pay well, but I'm comfortable there. My truck-driving boyfriend overcompensated for his long absences by giving me the things I wanted and needed. My home-life became comfortable and blissful in addition to the work-place. Someone would always take care of me. I had no worries about taking care of myself or making choices.
Until now.
June will mark one year since I have moved to Frankfort, Kentucky. I have spent my year as high as a kite with all the new sensations of beginning one's life in an unfamiliar place. Unfortunately, the honeymoon has ended, and abruptly so.
A series of events in my life has awakened in me many doubts about myself, my relationships to others, my religion, my mental and physical health, and my job. There's a scene in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where, when someone asks Clementine, the main character, what is wrong, she screams, "I don't know! I DON'T KNOW! I'm lost! I'm scared! I feel like I'm disappearing! MY SKIN IS COMING OFF! I'M GETTING OLD! Nothing makes any sense to me! NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE!" This is exactly how I feel.
This startling turning-point in my life has forced me to make choices, and make choices soon. Sadly, I am so accustomed to choices made for me--coasting--that I delve far into my mind and overwhelm myself trying to find angles, pros, and cons. I fall into panic. I have forgotten how to eat--and I lost 8 pounds. On the other extreme, I have forgotten how to act as a partner--and because of this, my other half has downgraded us to room-mates and has moved into a room across the hallway. Because of my indecisions, we may cease living together entirely.
He wrote me a long letter about our prickly situation: "...you might be able to figure [out your life] if you conquer this fear you have of self-reliance. If you no longer have that fear, you will have that much more clarity... It would also remove that from my fears, that should you and I return to [where we were], that's it's not because you were unable to take care of yourself. You CAN take care of yourself, Erin... you're just afraid to have to. That's not to say that you won't have to make concessions in the way you've grown accustomed to living lately, but you CAN do it. And when you get mad about the things you won't "like" about having to take care of yourself, it just makes you sound spoiled and petulant and makes me angry because it makes me feel like you're unwilling to do something hard... something hard for yourself... and something hard for us. And I like to believe that you're better than that...It's not that I don't care for you or don't enjoy caring for you, but I don't want to feel like I HAVE to care for you. You should be able to take care of yourself, and you don't."
These truths revealed to me in my emotional crash have hurt worse than the injuries I suffered in the car-crash. Regardless, I need to own up to the reality and make some changes. Make some choices. I wrote this as a confession and for accountability. It's taken a lot of courage to write all of this out. Most people prefer to downplay their faults, especially in public forums and public scrutiny. I've had to blink through tears writing about this. I long for another crash of the good sort.
Like this entry? Vote for this one and others in the LJ Idol community.
VOTING HERE
-------------
crash - verb
3. (of moving vehicles, objects, etc.) to collide, esp. violently and noisily.
A crash can depict a sudden stop. For instance, when I reached the Pennsylvania border that fateful winter day in early 2005, my car found itself stopped--with its muzzle lodged into a guard-rail. Was I paying attention to the road? Had I been over-confident in my snow-driving abilities? Had I turned onto the ramp too quickly? I still don't know for certain. I can still remember the crunch of tires and the acrid smell of the air-bag as it smashed into my face. When I opened my eyes, I looked out into the flurries of snow circling my car. "Have I died?" But I could feel my heartbeat; also, a man, not an angel, trudged hurriedly to my window to ask me if I was okay.
I lost my car that day. Little did I know that this significant and frightening event would jump-start my adult life.
Before long, my life spiraled in positive and negative directions. My measly job cut my hours to where I decided quitting was a more viable option than staying. With the convincing of my boyfriend, I made yet another decision, this time to uproot my life in Western Pennsylvania and move to Kentucky with him. I spent my entire childhood and young adulthood in the same yellow house, and in days I had made the choice to leave it behind. When friends discovered I was exiting the keystone state, they couldn't believe me. Everyone expected me to stay here and grow old and soft.
Instead, I moved to Kentucky and got a taste of living on my own. I landed my first real job, and I became financially independent from my mother. I've shared a home with my loving boyfriend, and in the meantime I've cultivated a few friendships. What a great way to launch into grown-up times. How proud of myself I was!
------------------
crash - verb
9. Slang. to experience unpleasant sensations, as sudden exhaustion or depression, when a drug, esp. an amphetamine, wears off.
21. a sudden and violent falling to ruin.
Unfortunately, some of us don't see anything positive about a crash. We mistake crashes with mistakes and avoid them at all costs. The careful drivers will slow down to the point of possibly endangering those around us. And others will focus so closely on the road and their car that they no longer enjoy the scenery surrounding them.
To prevent future crashes in my life, I began to coast.
It wasn't as if I had never coasted through life. I had been coddled as a child; I wasn't spoiled, but my brother and I were never wanting for anything. To avoid choices, I applied to one college that appealed to me, and I attended it the following semester. Instead of finding a major that I could have used in the working world, I stuck to what felt safe--writing. Likewise, I stuck to boyfriends that were familiar and non-challenging. They loved me; I didn't have to fight to earn their affection.
After the quite literal crash that motivated much movement on my behalf, I had found myself coasting once again.
Some could blame my boyfriend. He made my interstate transition an easy one--he paid for my bills until I could find a job. I took the first job that was offered to me, and I have remained in this same job for almost a year. It doesn't pay well, but I'm comfortable there. My truck-driving boyfriend overcompensated for his long absences by giving me the things I wanted and needed. My home-life became comfortable and blissful in addition to the work-place. Someone would always take care of me. I had no worries about taking care of myself or making choices.
Until now.
June will mark one year since I have moved to Frankfort, Kentucky. I have spent my year as high as a kite with all the new sensations of beginning one's life in an unfamiliar place. Unfortunately, the honeymoon has ended, and abruptly so.
A series of events in my life has awakened in me many doubts about myself, my relationships to others, my religion, my mental and physical health, and my job. There's a scene in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where, when someone asks Clementine, the main character, what is wrong, she screams, "I don't know! I DON'T KNOW! I'm lost! I'm scared! I feel like I'm disappearing! MY SKIN IS COMING OFF! I'M GETTING OLD! Nothing makes any sense to me! NOTHING MAKES ANY SENSE!" This is exactly how I feel.
This startling turning-point in my life has forced me to make choices, and make choices soon. Sadly, I am so accustomed to choices made for me--coasting--that I delve far into my mind and overwhelm myself trying to find angles, pros, and cons. I fall into panic. I have forgotten how to eat--and I lost 8 pounds. On the other extreme, I have forgotten how to act as a partner--and because of this, my other half has downgraded us to room-mates and has moved into a room across the hallway. Because of my indecisions, we may cease living together entirely.
He wrote me a long letter about our prickly situation: "...you might be able to figure [out your life] if you conquer this fear you have of self-reliance. If you no longer have that fear, you will have that much more clarity... It would also remove that from my fears, that should you and I return to [where we were], that's it's not because you were unable to take care of yourself. You CAN take care of yourself, Erin... you're just afraid to have to. That's not to say that you won't have to make concessions in the way you've grown accustomed to living lately, but you CAN do it. And when you get mad about the things you won't "like" about having to take care of yourself, it just makes you sound spoiled and petulant and makes me angry because it makes me feel like you're unwilling to do something hard... something hard for yourself... and something hard for us. And I like to believe that you're better than that...It's not that I don't care for you or don't enjoy caring for you, but I don't want to feel like I HAVE to care for you. You should be able to take care of yourself, and you don't."
These truths revealed to me in my emotional crash have hurt worse than the injuries I suffered in the car-crash. Regardless, I need to own up to the reality and make some changes. Make some choices. I wrote this as a confession and for accountability. It's taken a lot of courage to write all of this out. Most people prefer to downplay their faults, especially in public forums and public scrutiny. I've had to blink through tears writing about this. I long for another crash of the good sort.