Hi, My name is Carla and I am nothing but a giant ball of mush. I don't know what to feel -I just kind of feel empty this morning. But I have a sneaking suspicion that empty doesn't actually hurt. So maybe Mush on the Verge of Tears is more what I am.
At three am last night I called my brother. I couldn't handle being by myself, so I called Darin. I told him what happened and why what happened made me so upset (something I'm not ready to actually type out yet because... oh, wait... yes. There is a tear just thinking about it), and I made him stay on the phone with me until I fell asleep. That's right. I vaguely remember the sound of him brushing his teeth, and I started singing "When you wake up in the morning, it's a quarter to one and you want to have a little fun, you brush your teeth. Ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch ch. You brush your teeth." Thank you Raffi. Even when I'm half asleep, I can still sing your songs in the middle of the night.
I think kicking people would be cathartic, but I've heard that's usually not the smartest of ideas.
I feel like part of me is missing, and without it I don't know what to do - without it I just want to sit and throw up for hours. I have this sneaking feeling that throwing up for hours would not be as fun or as soothing as it sounds right now. I'm not sure what kind of healing I could accomplish from hugging a toilet for hours on end. Plus, I haven't eaten anything yet, so I doubt there's anything to throw up.
So I'm a pile of mush who is trying not to feel anything. I've gone through the stages of grief before - this one comes right after "bawl your mother fucking eyes out." It is officially called the "pile of mush" stage, although some might refer to it as "a bit of denial." Pile of mush comes after the bawling but before the "Raging Bitch" stage. I'm not ready for Raging Bitch yet. I thought I might be last night when I was threatening people in my mind, but this morning, I have reverted back to "Pile of Mush." I don't know who to threaten, or why, so I'll just stay here in Pile of Mush today, I think. Maybe I'll be in Pile of Mush for the rest of my life. Feelings are overrated anyways. Denial is the way to go. I'm pretty sure I'm right about this.
Pile of Mush is a hard stage to leave. It takes self-confidence, a bit of anger, and the strength I seem to have misplaced at that party last night. It probably ended up in that cup of daiquiri I drank, or maybe in one of the other cups full of liquor that I consumed. Daiquiri is just the last place I remember having my confidence, so I'd look there first. Drinking is NO FUN. None. I was sober way too soon, and then I had to feel emotions in a non-drunken state. I didn't even have the excuse that I was drunk to explain the crying uncontrollably. It was just that I felt THAT BAD.
If you find the part of me that makes me non-mushy, please give it back to me. I'd like to be able to come up with something better to do then throwing up for hours. My next bet is to watch The Sound of Music and fall asleep. Maybe I'll take door number two. That confidence song might actually help. Maybe. Maybe I'm not ready to build my confidence again. I'd just reached the "you can't mess with me because I'm awesome" stage, and now here I am, back to Pile of mush.
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
4 days ago