Confession #8: I’m proud of myself…I felt my heart beat to the rhythm of falling rain

Confession #8: I’m proud of myself…I felt my heart beat to the rhythm of falling rain

…okay, it’s actually not that dramatic. And I can’t take full credit for the wonderful imagery. This comes by way of Mr. Rusty Zinn (see the related yet unrelated below (way below) for some awesomeness. Do it. Then come back up here…it’s cool, I’ll wait.).

“have you ever felt your heart beat,
baby to the rhythm of falling rain?
have you ever sat and cried,
watched the rain come falling down?”

Okay, seriously, it was raining. and I felt my heart beat. and I was proud of myself. Heck, there might’ve even been tears, I can’t remember. But, the point is, I was proud. I am proud.

[fair warning: this exploration takes the long route so be ready for some reading.]

Let’s explore: so recent actions/reactions/situations led me to feel discouraged/rejected/crappy not in a positive emotional state…we’ll leave it at that. The focus is not on the catalyst, but on the ensuing response.

So I drove away, knowing I had two options (…okay, I probably had more than two but my coping with distressing feelings is quite limited as I’ve mentioned): I could either go drown my sorrows somewhere, drinking out of hurt and frustration and every other emotion I could use as an excuse to drink; or (and this is a big “or,” folks), I could go workout.

My usual go-to? Drinking, of course! It’s easy, feels good, and with the right company, is free (or at least cheap). This usual coping method leads to bad decisions galore. But, for that particular night, it typically serves its purpose. Here’s the kicker for the specific night in question: I didn’t choose this option. What I did next was slightly shocking, even for myself: I looked for the nearest gym that was open on a Saturday night (which, friends, is not an easy task considering most gyms recognize that “normal” people don’t work out at 9pm on a Saturday night, especially during Fiesta, one of Texas’ finest events (said with slight sarcasm but you can read it any way you’d like…some people actually loooove Fiesta and that’s perfectly understandable). Anyway, most gyms recognize this and close as early as 3pm). So, after some wasted gas and detours, Google Maps led me to one of the few actual 24-hour gyms that didn’t close for routine maintenance, one which I had been meaning to check out. Serendipitous, I think. (more on this later). So, I proceeded to work off the few beers and stress I had consumed (or had consumed me) just a couple hours before.

As I made late night plans (in more positive state of mind yet still slightly aching), I got ready in the most amazing locker room I’d ever come across. Not exaggerating. There was shaving cream in the shower, new disposable razors for the taking, body lotion, and (my favoritest finding which will lead me back to this particular gym soon so I can try it out…very soon), saunas! It was awesome. Anyway, that was a (completely necessary?) detour from the story. I said goodnight to the hospitality gym dude (official title, I’m sure) and the doors opened to more awesomeness and one of my other favoritest things ever: a thunderstorm. It was perfect. It fit my emotions. My uncertainty and self-consciousness, hurt and fears, told-you-so’s and disappointments were right there in front of me. Falling. Telling me that I could leave them there, among the flooded streets, knowing they would wash away when the time was right. Everything that had happened that day led to that point. To me walking in the storm. under an umbrella that was in my gym bag but shouldn’t have been. (me and Karma are tight if you didn’t know). Serendipitous, again.

The night ended with a couple of beers and conversation with a strong, amazing Latina I am lucky to call a friend (I am pretty blessed to have quite a few of those, actually). It didn’t end in drunkenness and bad decisions, as it would have just a few months prior.

what I learned from this confession: for this, for the above, for my choice, I am proud. And hopeful. Sure, I’m still in the same(-ish) emotional state I was during the interaction that led to this reaction, but I recognize it, claim it, and am not running away from it, as unsettling as it is. i made a good choice. on my own. which means i can do it again.

Related yet unrelated yet pretty much on track: …mostly, i love me some blues 🙂

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