A rough week

I had a really rough night. More like a rough week, but today was the culmination of it all. It ended so well I am reconsidering whether rough is the right word. Maybe necessary is a better way to say it. I was meant to learn something here, and I did. The storm came and I might not understand how it happened or why it happened but I do understand what happened and I understand myself better for it. There is a peace in understanding. This night might have been rough but finding peace almost negates all the pain, justifies it, makes it worth it. It was rough but it’s been rubbed smooth.

The week that led up to this moment included an inundation of issues because of change and my reaction to change. I like change, in theory. But as soon as it happens there is a place you end up that is in between where you came from and where you are going. You have left but you aren’t quite there. Stuck somewhere. I hate that place. I hate being in it. I like routines. I like comfort and stability and in the in-between place things are in the process of being destroyed or being created. Nothing is stable inside of this place. A perfect analogy to explain this is traveling. I like to travel to see the world. But I hate flying. I like to come home. But I hate flying. To get to other places and then back home I have to fly. Flying is exactly like the in-between place, neither here nor there. No where. Nothing. So, I like change, just not the process of it.

A lot has changed in a very small amount of time. And for someone who hates change I have tried very hard to accept and learn from it. Were there debilitating moments? Yeah. But also a lot of strength and growth and new places I needed to be.

I have a new job. An amazing new job. A dream job. But taking it consists of a lot of change. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m not. But there have been a lot of in-between places due to taking this job and I am completely off balance. What adds to the imbalance is the loss of some friendships in temporary and permanent ways. Friendships are structures that you can hang on to when change whips its windy way through your life. Some of those structures were gone and I got blown over by the wind. What has helped a lot is Brooke who has held my hand and helped me stand back up during a lot of tough situations the past two weeks.

For my canceled wedding she dressed up in a white dress with me and gallivanted around town. When she found out I got the job she took me out to celebrate. And when I was feeling melancholy she went tubing with me on short notice.

I went out tonight with her after tubing not feeling so well, but I’d agreed earlier in the day to go and was sure I was just hungry. I ate a quick meal with her but the stomach ache only got worse. I got a beer at the pub but only drank a few sips. I was pulled up to dance and could only last a few steps before I felt like my meal was going to come up and I would rush off to sit down again. Unfortunately, and any other night I would have had a great time, my dance partner wouldn’t take no for an answer. I don’t back down and that was the only answer I was going to give him, but this moment of pressure changed the events for the rest of the night. The rejected dancer encouraged another man to get me to dance. This new man came over to me and lectured me to give the guy another chance. I said no. And I meant it. He didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t feel well and was obvious in judging me for it. I thought he was a drunk, middle-aged man who had no business hitting on me and my friend, touching me and my friend or demeaning me and my friend. I judged him for it and his behavior towards me. He was not respectful, and he didn’t leave us. Brooke seemed to enjoy poking at him, so I didn’t make a deal out of it, but I ignored him. Which the man took offense to, and he only drank more and pushed himself more onto us and other girls unfortunate enough to get caught near him throughout the night. Turns out he is an administrator in a school district.

Finally, with enough booze in him, he got the crude courage to take me on and take me down. He came over and told me my stomach ache was a “bullshit story” that he didn’t believe and he had an issue with people who couldn’t have a good time (he made this point a lot more rudely) and that I was only bringing everyone else around me down, but since I was an educator he would respect me. He then tried to get me to high five him. I stared him down, appalled. He tried again raising his hand and I looked at him as if he were the most stupid man alive. He had just demeaned me with his tone (which I can’t fully explain), his expression (which I can’t fully describe), and his words (which I can’t fully remember) and he actually expected me to be ok with that. I looked at him with the disgust I felt, stood up and walked away. Got to the bathroom and cried. I feel silly for that reaction but it hurt.

Then I went back to Brooke, who was with them. In a loud Irish pub filled with live music there was no way she could have heard what he had said and hadn’t seen my reaction. I told her that I needed to leave, that the man had insulted me and I was ready to go. I walked out. It took her a few minutes to catch up to me. I started crying again and spilled what had happened. She convinced me to not let him scare me off, to go back in and have a good time.

I didn’t feel physically well or emotionally well but decided to tough it out. That was a mistake on my part. I had reached and gone past my limit by the time I finally said I was ready to go again, and I was ignored. I cracked. Mistake.

I was angry and self-righteous and did the best thing I could have done. Apologized. This changed the ending of the night. Little minute moments in timing affect everything.