I was made for you...

At some point, I want to talk about my mini-marathon experience and how it's all made me feel...but I think a lot of those feelings are still stuffed below the surface and my mind is clogged right now. Hopefully I'll find a way to come back to it.

Tonight I want to write about happiness.

I'm reading this book right now called "Stumbling on Happiness." It's an interesting read, though not exactly riveting. It's written by a psychology professor so it's got just a tad too much nerdiness for the non-academic reader. Perhaps this is why I'm still reading it.

It's an interesting take on what I'm calling the Theory of Happiness Relativity.

I'm not happy. But I'm also not sad. I'm simply "not happy." I'm not sure how to define this...it's a feeling of discontent/frustration/disappointment...but it is not the same as the sadness I've felt before. [Sidebar: the book talks about a condition known as "numbfeel" in which awareness and emotional experience are disconnected...also called "alexithymia" in scientific cirlces as a term to describe people who lack the introspective awareness of how they feel. I find this condition fascinating...as a scholar of words and the power/effect that words have on people, it's quite a phenomena in which the lexicon and language tools are there, but the emotional ability to articulate is missing.]

Does it matter that I can't describe what "not happy" means and feels to me? Perhaps it doesn't...and perhaps it's more valuable to recognize that I still need to work out what will make me happy. And yet, my down time finds me mulling over this state of not happiness, so I know that deep down, it matters. Maybe it's because I've spent a significant portion of my adult life drowning in sadness...and since lifting from that state, I've found the words to describe it. Therefore, I'm frustrated that I can't find the words to explain "not happy."

In a related side note, I do my own therapy sessions...unfortunately, these aren't always scheduled at my convenience. Today's session suddenly occured during my shower. [Sidebar (again): I do my "best" thinking in the shower, while I'm driving, or when I'm washing dishes. Like other ADHD creative people, these high energy spurts come about when I'm engaged in a captivating activity...such as showering, driving, or washing dishes. I discovered this about myself a few years ago, but it wasn't until recently that I realized my mother is the same way...which is why I think she keeps herself busy and on the move at all times. I can recall as a child watching her when she was doing something at home--folding laundry, curling her hair, or working a crossword puzzle--she doesn't know this, but I'd catch her lips moving like she was talking to herself (or, as I realize now, she was either preparing her response to a projected conversation or playing out the fantasy of a conversation she wished to have). Now that I have these thought bursts too, I've realized she might also be working through her ideas for the writing projects she's never finished.]

No one understands me. Now, I don't mean to toss that out like some over-generalization of a tortured pseduo-academic, overthinking, single female. I mean that when it comes down to the basics of basics, there isn't one person who really, really, REALLY understands me. The kind of understanding I'm referring to here is the kind that not only comes from knowing the history of me, but being there for me as I experience new things. This is the kind of understanding that is somewhat tied to my intimate space (not necessarily sexual intimacy) or not only knowing the details of my past and witnessing the experiences of my present, but being able to connect the dots. I don't mean to imply that I'm so complex that it requries someone with astounding intelligence to understand me. I'm really much more simple than that. What it speaks to, however, is a desire to know me (or at least a lack of fear to know me).

That was my big epiphany today...that there isn't one person who completely understands me. Is that what a "soul mate" means? What does it mean (or better, what does it require) to truly know someone?

And yes, this segues perfectly into my parting thoughts...my latest CD purchase is Brandi Carlile's "The Story." Not only is her music soothing, intelligent, and fitting for the occasion, but her lyrics are quite thought-provoking. [Sidebar (last one, I promise!!): she had a concert at the Music Mill tonight. I didn't have tickets or anyone to attend with me, but I gave it serious thought to catch this show by myself. Bill once shared with me how he attends concerts by himself and at the time, my heart nearly broke for him. I think the emotional energy of concerts are best received when shared with someone else. I kept imagining this lonely man feeling without anyone to share in the connection of the music...but now I understand. Does this mean I've matured or that I'm now truly a desperate woman???]

Her title track is fabulous. Not only does the melody grab at my heart and force me to sit up and pay attention, but the lyrics seem like they are an extension of my own disconnected thoughts (though surprisingly connected when set to music). A few segments from her song:

"All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am, so many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am, but these stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to..."

"...all of my friends who think that I am blessed, they don't know that my head is a mess. No, they don't know who I really am, and they don't know what I've been through like you do..."

Isn't that what this is all about? This is why we build our communities of trust and companionship...this is why we seek out love and take the risk to fall in love with someone else...above all else, humans desire emotional connection to others. Unfortunately for some of us, this companionship is elusive.

My need to be understood is so brazen right now. What if I can't resolve this? Is that even an option?