Yesterday I cried twice AND I was dead sober. Why is that important? Well, something happened between 2010-11, several somethings, and I simply stopped being able to cry. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. Growing up I cried at the drop of a hat. I cried so often through my 20’s that I never wore mascara. I could cry over a commercial, something I read, a random panic attack, anything. Then it all stopped. After my eyes simply stopped making tears, I had to, from there on out, get super drunk to be able to cry. It was like the answer to my prayers, no more crying at work, no more crying in front of anyone that shouldn’t have that privilege- I was now normal, like everyone else! Now I can count the times that I have cried (while sober) on my fingers. As I’ve learned, this is the way most people are, and I’m happy to have joined the ranks of the emotionally controlled.
Except that yesterday I cried, twice. Why? Well, I was having a tough day all day. I’ve been coming to the realization that there will be no movies, date night dinners, hanging out with humans, vacations, plane rides, etc for the next 2 years – to – indefinitely. Infinite time with nothing in the way of fun or rewards of any kind. Even if we did travel somewhere, all we did when we went other places was go to museums, gatherings, see friends, go to restaurants, and go to bars, all of which no longer exist to us. A friend of mine said today, trying to be helpful, “Well, can’t you just order in some food and make it a home date?” Ummmmmmm, do you not think that has happened? What the fuck difference does that make, except that I don’t have dishes to clean up? It’s the same fucking thing we did yesterday, except I have EVEN LESS to occupy myself with. I’m sure that will be oh, so entertaining over and over and over again for the next 2 years in my fucking living room.
Which leads me to my next reason for crying, I cannot even scrape up enough things to do to occupy my hands and time. I know, I know, you have like 4 kids and a full time job. Guess what? I don’t have any kids, and there is no job that I’ve ever done that would be happening right now. None. Zilch. Nada. I know you say “well, enjoy it!” Enjoy what, exactly? Cooking, cleaning, and yard work? All that “cool stuff” that “stay at home wives” get to do includes lunch with friends, coffee with friends, shopping, yoga classes, the gym, maybe some kind of club or committee thing. We get none of that. That is all gone. I get to enjoy cooking, cleaning, and yard work. I’ve become almost obsessive about running because I feel so trapped.
Oh, and then there’s “fashion”. There are no reasons at all to even half-way dress up. Like there is literally no reason to wear anything that isn’t pajama pants or stretch pants. There’s no reason to wear a stitch of make-up. Don’t even tell me to start making jewelry again, I’ve got the stuff out, but who the fuck is even WEARING jewelry? Where is there to wear it? I don’t want to make more jewelry to just gum up the containers of already existing jewelry that I own and haven’t gotten rid of, shit, I can’t imagine you could even give the stuff away right now. We used to occasionally gussy ourselves up to go somewhere, just to remind ourselves that we can look descent. I can’t think of 1 reason to even open my closet. I have an entire closet, full of beautiful summer dresses, that I may as well throw in the garbage. I can’t even sell them right now, who would buy them? No one needs stuff like that.
All of these things, these little things, just came to a head yesterday. For the next two years, I will be a frumpy, work-out clothes only wearing, early-forties hermit, and 2 years is my most optimistic guess. I could literally be in my late 40’s before we can safely navigate society again, and maybe we will never be able to navigate society again, and I may spend the rest of my life isolated in this fucking house. When will I ever see a swimming pool again? When will I ever see the ocean? When will I ever see any state (or even city for that matter), that isn’t my own. There’s no reason to do any of that. You can’t “get a taste for the food or culture”, unless you want to order take out and eat it in your hotel room. Yeah, that’s worth traveling for.
What I’m essentially saying is that the fun, all of the fun, has been sucked out of my life. There is no “fun” left. No reward at the end of the tunnel. None of the little things that might brighten your day. “Yeah, work was tough, but we’re meeting so-n-so for dinner tonight, and that will be cool.” “Wow, I can’t wait until our trip next month.” “This new dress is so cool, I can’t wait to wear it to the wedding next week.” All gone. All of it, gone. It was just the little things, seeing someone you didn’t expect to see at the coffee shop, and having a chat. New eyeliner to wear. Fun sunglasses. Dinosaur print bathing suit. The possibility of water aerobics. The new art museum exhibit. A show that you really wanted to see. The idea that if you made jewelry, you might sell a few pieces at First Friday. Ordering a bottle of wine with my husband; “We’ll have the terrine, then I’ll have the duck breast, medium-rare.” Creme Brûlée.
Please don’t get in the comments and tell me how: 1.)I should learn to make creme brûlée and duck breast- I might, but it’s not the same. 2.) How we should have at home date night, that is literally every fucking night. Every night is dinner and a movie, I make dinner, and then Netflix makes the movie. 3.) That I should dress up just for me- that’s impractical. Dress up and do what? Cook? Clean? Go jogging? Muck out the chicken coop? Exactly what do I do after I get gussied up “for me”, you and I both know, that shit is not for me. You and I both know that ALL WOMEN dress for OTHER PEOPLE. If we’re dressing “for us”, we’re wearing grey sweatpants and a shirt with a hole in it. 4.) To just enjoy what I have. Yes, thank you for the fact that we live indoors. I actually say thanks for that every single night. It doesn’t help me with the fact that I want to stand in the street and scream at the top of my lungs over and over again because I’m fucking TRAPPED here in this fucking GROUNDHOG DAY for GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!!!
It just all got to me. I get tired of pretending to be an optimist, because I am not one. I pretend to be one, because that is what people like, and that is what you all want to hear. I’m not one, and I’ve never been one- that’s a performance piece that I put on for you all. At best, I’m a realist. At worst, I was born a pessimist. I don’t feel particularly hopeful right now, nor have I in the past 4 years. I think that what is left of our democracy is about to be destroyed. I think our government has no plan and no real intention of making a vaccine, much less making it affordable for people. I don’t actually have any hope that we’re not getting 4 more years of Trump. I just don’t see anything good, and I could have really used those “little things”, but instead, what we get is a life that is even harder and more fucking tedious than it already was, AND our country crumbling at the seams to watch while we’re a captive audience. It’s the fucking Twilight Zone. We’re in the Twilight Zone.