Generation F

"Some people never go crazy. What horrible lives they must live." - Charles Bukowski

Here we are, three weeks to the day, and it's over with The Guy. I'm actually not that disappointed that I never even got around to giving him a cool nickname. I didn't really have long enough to pick one out. 

Three weeks seems to be my breaking point these days. I've had some great three week "relationships". It usually ends with me pointing out it won't work, them saying, Yah, I think you're beautiful/talented/smart but I'm not really in the right place right now, and me being like, yes dear, I know, that's why I'm breaking this off now. 

I knew this was happening yesterday, which is why I signed up for the 30 day yoga challenge at my studio. Well, I had a hell of a class yesterday morning and I've already given up and decided to stay home to watch Game of Thrones tonight instead - on Day 2. Yay me for sticking with things. But that episode was awesome. And that yoga commitment was money was well spent. 

I can't help but think our generation is a little bit fucked up. Thus, "Generation F". Our grandparents lived through the war. Our parents grew up working really hard but being completely out of tune with their feelings. Then, came us. Life was different once we came around, but there were still so many stigmas. Going to therapy was a stigma. We couldn't be open about child abuse. If we were gay we kept it a secret. 

We don't really relate to the next generation after us, the ones who are just 10 or 15 years younger. They feel so entitled. We don't. We don't know what it was like to have the war era affect us, but we don't know what it was like to grow up having a cell phone and a FaceBook account when you were a teenager.

We're not settling down as early or having as many kids, some of us aren't having kids at all. We're learning, slowly slowly the things we didn't learn growing up: how to talk about our feelings, how to take time for ourselves, how to create work/life balance. We're figuring out how to break out of the mold our parents created for us, while still being responsible adults.  

A lot of us are deciding to follow our dreams, even if that's not the safest path. When we do that, we have so much more risk and uncertainty, but also so much more personal growth and fulfillment. At least we know exactly what we want and we're trying to find it. We don't stay in relationships that don't work. We don't stay friends with people who are toxic. We leave jobs that suck the life out of us. 

Maybe we're not "Generation Fucked". Maybe we're "Generation Fabulous". :)

Atlas

Looks heavy right? I imagine it sucks being a Greek God carrying the world on your shoulders. And not even having a pair of pants. :)

I've had a difficult week. The panic hit on Wednesday. And it hasn't gone away. Four days in I finally decide to take an Ativan. I let it go too long this time though and it's not even working. 

I saw my therapist yesterday. I was cranky. Not only have I been having constant panic attacks, I haven't been sleeping. I was late for work because I was throwing up at home, a delightful by-product of the most awful panic attacks, had a lunch meeting and then had to leave early to make this appointment. 

Him: You're pissed you have to be here. 

Me: I have work to do. 

Him: What's wrong Margaux?

Truth is, nothing's wrong. Work is great. I'm actually taking on some new projects and responsibilities that I'm excited about, working more closely in Communications which I'm passionate about. I'm dating a nice guy. My secret life friend is back in town and that just makes my little group of friends that much more special. 

Him: I'm not sure if it's a good idea for you to work more. And why can't you just take a pill?  And...what's wrong?

Hmmmm. I hate taking pills - it makes me feel like I'm not strong enough to handle this stuff on my own. Sullivan's are renowned for their pride issues. 

What's wrong? Well there has been some worry this past couple of months about my siblings and what each of them have been going through. I'm trying to help. 

Him: Why does it have to be you who does that?

Seriously? Mom off in Panama, Dad in PEI and even if they were in town, this would still be my responsibility. I feel like it always has been. I love my parents, but mom wasn't very um...maternal. Dad wasn't really around. And since we've been in Toronto I just feel like my siblings have always felt that I'm where they go for "home". 

Problem is, that's where the line ends. 

Also, I'm doing this big event at work where I tell my story to raise awareness for Mental Health week. 

Him: You don't have to do that either. 

He doesn't understand. I do. That's why I write this blog. That's why I did an interview with a big magazine. I need to help people. Especially people like me. 

Him: I'll tell you something that someone told me once when I was in therapy. I wanted to be a therapist and they said that I would be no good to anyone else if I didn't take care of myself first. 

It feels selfish right? But it makes sense. That's why if the plane is going to crash you're supposed to put on your own oxygen mask before helping someone else get theirs on. If you're passed out, you can't help them. 

I don't know where the constant pressure has always come from to take care of everyone else around me. Probably started with the family, got worse the longer I stayed JW. I just know it's always been there and if I try to ignore it, if I try to say no, it yells at me, loudly, until I listen to it. 

Him: Who takes care of you? Where do you go to feel safe?

There is no answer to that question. All I know is I've tried carrying the weight of the world, but I only have two hands. What I really want to focus on now is my career, my writing, my personal peace of mind. And I can't do that with all the panic, the insomnia, the anxiety. 

I guess I'll have to make some hard choices. In the meantime, I'll go to yoga. 

Love in the time of Tinder

Ok y'all have read way too many sad posts lately about Cat (may she rest in peace) so new topic. As you know, I recently acquired an iPhone and it enables me to play a really fun new game called Tinder. As you may or may not know, Tinder is straight Grindr. One of my gay friends was oh so happy for us that we can now play the game too. He told me that he can't even have coffee with his friends without them checking their phone every five minutes and assured me I would now turn into a gay man. We'll see.

But it is super fun for online dating, no wasting time reading profiles or messages from guys you really don't care to hear from. It's just a picture, a name and an age and you swipe left for no or right for yes.

It's hard to take it seriously though because it really does feel like you're playing a game. You don't look at a guy and think, could this be that last relationship I ever have? Nah, you're just like, would I kiss him? Yes? Swipe right, No? Swipe left. Sometimes I get so caught up in swiping left I have to stop and think, man that guy was cute. Oh well, now he's gone. Back to the game.

I actually found my brother on there the other day when I was in a left swiping frenzy and he was gone before I realized who it was. I was disappointed about that because I always end up matching up with him at some point on online dating sites.

Oh well, if I keep playing I'm sure I'll find him again some day and I will not make the same mistake twice! :)

Now I'm not a big fan of online dating. But hey, once all your friends have settled down into relationships and you're still single, where do you meet new people? At yoga? Nope they are all either gay or coming with their girlfriends/wives. (Side point: those rare straight single dudes at yoga have really tapped into to unexplored market of girl meeting potential. My advice to you, single men of Toronto who want to meet someone? Start working on your downward dog.)

At work? Too messy. At bars? That's almost worse than online dating. I've been to a few meet up groups but those people are mostly weird. (No judgment meetup group junkies.) There's a new group I've been meaning to get to, and I planned to go many a time, but it just never seems to work out. When Cat passed away on Saturday and I called one of my friends to tell her about it, her first response was, man you will do anything to get out of going to that meetup group! That's not why I put her down, but my friend does have a point...

I have met a couple of guys from the game and as always, they were nice. Matthew Hussey says we need to meet two new people a week if we are serious about finding the elusive "one" but what does he know? He's still single.

At the end of the day, it's all a game. Dating, relationships, work, friendships, etc. I guess it just depends whether or not we take it seriously and if we're in it to win or if we're just doing it to have fun.

I am absolutely sure that I will get sick of Tinder eventually, like I do with all online dating sites. In the meantime, if you're a really nice guy, you've got your shit together and you know what you want out of life, if we cross paths on the most superficial dating site in the world, swipe right. :)

Church Girls

It's been a quiet few days. Even Matthew Hussey hasn't been sending out helpful video blogs on how to "Get the Guy".

I seem more adept at losing the guy, and I won't lie, a few days into my newest break-up, I haven't made the best use of my vacation week. There were so many things I was going to do, spring cleaning, shopping, yoga. So far I've managed to clean the kitty litter, nap, answer the odd work email (I know, I know, I have a problem) and spend 3 days reading Game of Thrones. Today was epic though, because it finally, finally stopped raining and...I read Game of Thrones in the park and didn't check my BlackBerry once.

Disclaimer: Do not start reading Game of Thrones if you have an addictive personality and are NOT on vacation. It's like, 800 pages long and sucks you in before you can scream for help. And apparently there are 5 books.   

I thought it was appropriate that it rained so hard the past few days though, I always love the rain when I'm feeling melancholy. (I know, it's a great word.)

But today the sun came back out, I got groceries, am meeting up with a girlfriend tonight. Tomorrow, is yoga first thing in the morning, followed by a long-overdue trip to see my therapist (I actually booked appointments two days in a row. Let's make this vacation count! Plus he has a lot to catch up on.).

Last night though, I met up with one of my little sisters from the old life. We haven't seen each other in about a year so it was great to see her. It's funny, (here we go with the cult shit again) they love to tell these stories on the platform at the Kingdom Hall, in the Watchtower, about how people decide to leave and it absolutely ruins their life. I wish I hadn't been so stupid as to give them another story to tell.

Regardless, can't change that now. As her and I caught up and re-bonded, I can't help but think it's too bad they tell those stories, always a somewhat modified rendition of the "Prodigal Son", who of course squandered his Father's fortune with wine and prostitutes, ended up desolate and desperate, begging his Father to take him back. The stories always end with how happy the person is that his family disowned him and shunned him for years, lest he had never visited the end of his wits, turned back and learned his lesson.

I'm sure some of us "Church Girls" who leave the faith do end up in harm's way and regret the decisions we make. And I think all of us have gone through a little bit of a reckless stage. How can you not, having grown up with a rule for everything from how you think to what you wear to how you speak, then losing your belief system and being out there alone, with no one and no rules.

We all made our mistakes. But seeing S. last night, as she shines her way through Law School at Queen's, knowing K. is happily married and just bought a beautiful house with her lovely husband after finishing school for something she was passionate about even though she already had a good job, M. just got a promotion and is back in school herself, me, doing well at a good job, making As at school, writing a blog on the side (that people actually read), having people who really love me filling up the extra time...I wish once in awhile they would tell that story. I understand why they don't. And every time any of us gets together, we talk about the past, what we lost, how crazy it all seems, even though we smile and respect whatever our families want to believe.

I'll tell you a secret: it's not wrong to believe in whatever we want to believe, as long as we respect the others and their belief system. But if you don't believe, it's ok to leave. You'll be fine eventually. Trust me. : )