Fear.
You can’t get into a relationship without thinking about marriage. Okay, qualifier: you can’t get into a relationship without thinking about marriage if you’re me.
I don’t do it on purpose. I don’t sight someone across the room and immediately size them up as a future and eternal companion. I really do not want to get married right now; it's completely the wrong time of my life for this kind of stuff.
But here’s the thing: I keep thinking about it. Not necessarily marriage to a specific man, but marriage in general. The last week or two it’s been torturing me, and not in the way that it usually tortures young women of my age. It’s been a constant companion, even teetering on the edge of becoming an obsession.
I’ve noticed, however, that my desire to be married is directly proportional to the state of my mental health. When I am feeling shaky and when I am hiding in bed, day after day after day, I want to be married.
My life is currently a mess; I have nothing to hold on to (save the show I am performing in at the moment). I have no job, no school. My dedication to my religion is a joke. My relationship with my family is tense and harsh. I am crazy about someone I can’t quite have yet.
I stay in bed and sleep all day. I drive and part of me hopes that I won’t find my destination. I hide in the in-betweens—in sleep, in driving, in showers, in backstages— and keep hoping that someone can save me from myself, even though I know that’s not true. I fall apart like clockwork; once or twice a day.
I am messing up. I am a mess. I want to be someone else.
In other words, I have no way to contribute to society and show that I am, in fact, worthy of my place on this planet and the air I’m breathing. There is nothing for me to hold on to that I cannot lose at the drop of a hat. Nothing.
I think, somehow, that marriage is tangled up in my mind with stability, with solidity. Marriage is the reassurance that no matter what has gone wrong, the person who sleeps beside you has made the choice to be with you. Marriage means someone that will not leave.
I know that’s not true; marriage is no guarantee that you will have someone forever. Nothing could be further from the truth. But somehow I still want that reason to stay in this world—to know that I am half of a whole and that someone would not be okay without me, that I am not entirely replaceable. I want that bond and that promise. It scares me how much I seem to focus on it lately.
I wish I knew my endings. For a long time, I was doing so well living day by day… and suddenly, the thought of not knowing what will happen tomorrow is panic-inducing. I seize up. If I’m going to lose something or someone, I want it to happen now so that it won’t hurt later. I can’t handle any more of this.
If I were married, at least I would know that ending. At least I would know that part. There would be a degree of stability in my life—a pair of arms and a familiar face to wake up to, someone who I could stay with, who wouldn’t leave.
I don’t know what I mean by writing this entry. I don’t want to get married, not really. All I want stability and promise. Reassurance. I wish for a day, for an hour, that I could be unafraid. That I could stop dreading that in the morning, I will be alone again.
I just can’t do this anymore.
I don’t do it on purpose. I don’t sight someone across the room and immediately size them up as a future and eternal companion. I really do not want to get married right now; it's completely the wrong time of my life for this kind of stuff.
But here’s the thing: I keep thinking about it. Not necessarily marriage to a specific man, but marriage in general. The last week or two it’s been torturing me, and not in the way that it usually tortures young women of my age. It’s been a constant companion, even teetering on the edge of becoming an obsession.
I’ve noticed, however, that my desire to be married is directly proportional to the state of my mental health. When I am feeling shaky and when I am hiding in bed, day after day after day, I want to be married.
My life is currently a mess; I have nothing to hold on to (save the show I am performing in at the moment). I have no job, no school. My dedication to my religion is a joke. My relationship with my family is tense and harsh. I am crazy about someone I can’t quite have yet.
I stay in bed and sleep all day. I drive and part of me hopes that I won’t find my destination. I hide in the in-betweens—in sleep, in driving, in showers, in backstages— and keep hoping that someone can save me from myself, even though I know that’s not true. I fall apart like clockwork; once or twice a day.
I am messing up. I am a mess. I want to be someone else.
In other words, I have no way to contribute to society and show that I am, in fact, worthy of my place on this planet and the air I’m breathing. There is nothing for me to hold on to that I cannot lose at the drop of a hat. Nothing.
I think, somehow, that marriage is tangled up in my mind with stability, with solidity. Marriage is the reassurance that no matter what has gone wrong, the person who sleeps beside you has made the choice to be with you. Marriage means someone that will not leave.
I know that’s not true; marriage is no guarantee that you will have someone forever. Nothing could be further from the truth. But somehow I still want that reason to stay in this world—to know that I am half of a whole and that someone would not be okay without me, that I am not entirely replaceable. I want that bond and that promise. It scares me how much I seem to focus on it lately.
I wish I knew my endings. For a long time, I was doing so well living day by day… and suddenly, the thought of not knowing what will happen tomorrow is panic-inducing. I seize up. If I’m going to lose something or someone, I want it to happen now so that it won’t hurt later. I can’t handle any more of this.
If I were married, at least I would know that ending. At least I would know that part. There would be a degree of stability in my life—a pair of arms and a familiar face to wake up to, someone who I could stay with, who wouldn’t leave.
I don’t know what I mean by writing this entry. I don’t want to get married, not really. All I want stability and promise. Reassurance. I wish for a day, for an hour, that I could be unafraid. That I could stop dreading that in the morning, I will be alone again.
I just can’t do this anymore.
3 Comments:
Oh, Honey. I know this feeling all to well. I remember it so clearly. I survived it ... and you will, too. Just hang in there. Trust your heart. Don't listen to the outside voices of the world - they will tell you what THEY think you should do, not what your heart knows it true. Pray, meditate - not for specific answers, but for calmness & clarity. And listening to Janis Ian helps.
Chelsea dear well I empathize with you at the moment. I mean I'm just getting around to responding to this after wondering how you've been doing for the last week or so. Just remember you have a lot of friends pulling for you we will help you if you need it. And of course you always have one person there for you, all you have to do is call. Hope you are feeling better about things. you are one of the greast people I know. It always brightens my day to see you.
May I give a tiny tid bit of un solicited advice from a random man?.... Of corse I may. If you get self validation mixed up with marraige, you are in for a big train wreck. Find yourself, love yourself and love will find you.
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