I'm an independent motherfucker

The weather in Houston this week is making me feel hopeful. It's been cool and not very humid. I've been outside every afternoon, basking in the loveliness trying to ride the wave of hope. I have been a bit out of sorts lately, which is to say that I've been feeling depressed. I haven't really felt this way since I was graduating from Virginia Tech. I think that now, as it was then, I'm channelling this huge anxiety I'm feeling over the future of my life into a nice, unhealthy depression. Now, the one in 2001 lasted 3 years and wreaked havoc on all facets of my life. In 2006, I know better and am not going to let that happen... somehow. The transition I was going through in 2001 was from student to real person (one I failed at miserably since I scrambled back to school one year later). The transition I'm going through now is from fat person to not fat person (there's some other stuff, but I can't get into it yet). Those of you who know me know that I've lost some 40 pounds this year, and the change has been amazing. I feel great (physically), I have so much energy, etc. But I'm scared.

First off, no one gains 100 pounds on accident. It's not like you wake up one morning and say, "oh damn, I've gone up 5 sizes in the past two years, how'd that happen?" If you are like me, you gain it kicking and screaming. Staring longingly at your smaller pant sizes thinking, if I just lose 10 pounds they will fit me again as you devour the second pint of mind numbing ice cream. My mom once told me that you have to work really hard to gain a lot of weight, and she's right. It's a symptom.

So why'd I do it? I sent my emotions to the local meat processing facility in late 2000/early 2001. A lot of drama, all caused by me, and in the end, I lost several of my closest friends and became terrified of getting emotionally involved. It's easier to live in your head and imagine the great friends you will have than risk actually having them and getting hurt again (lying on the floor, clutching my stomach, empty from missing him). What also helps is chocolate. What makes it hard is the acting. I couldn't be depressed in public, which made going out in public very hard. So I did it less and less frequently. When I moved to South Bend, I felt like I could start over, and I tried. However, in the end the worry won out and I retreated, keeping a few friends and going out when I could. I like to think I wasn't obvious about it, but I've been nominated for a Best Happy Faker Emmy several times.

But I'm almost better. I'm still so scared of making friends, and it takes me so long to do so. I think the reason places I live have a 2 year expiration date is that by that time the reality of my situation hits me: I'm still the same, and I still have the same shit to overcome. Geography has nothing to do with it. But, the most horrible symptom of that time in my life is leaving.

Again though, I'm scared. For the longest time, if anyone (including myslef) asked me whether or not I wanted to have a boyfriend, the answer was a quick: NO! The thought of being with someone now was too much to bear. I would normally cry. Last time I was in New York, a guy at a restaurant started talking to me and asked if he could call me. He was Indian, and I told myself he just wanted a green card. The degree to which my low self-image has run my life is regrettable. I've always taken a lot of pride in my independence and the fearlessness with which I do things alone that most people would never do (though if I'm honest, doing them alone is really easier for me).

But now, the answer to the question is different. The answer is a hesitant, turning red, almost crying, breathlessly whispered Yes.

I just have to keeping telling myself that being brave isn't being unafriad. Being brave is doing what you are afraid of despite your fears.

post title is quote from Be Your Own Pet's "Bunk Trunk Skunk"