The joys of recovery

Deep breaths, Rebecca. Smile a little. Sing a lot. You know the magic keys you hold to recovery. Coffee, Cosmos, Episodes of Grey's. A lot of GLEE soundtracks. You love this. You thrive on it. So let's dive in!

There is nothing to bring me back around to finding myself like a fabulous weekend of overly emotional fantastic-ness. It really is amazing what best friends, great wine, and boy drama can do to inspire me toward emotional health. I think rejection is my motivator. Failure is my forte. Over-feeling is my catalyst toward change. Peace and Joy always return to me after I realize what a ridiculous person I am when I stop taking good care of myself. And then I giggle at my awesome "Becca-ness", as my precious (and pregnant!) sister-in-law put it, and wrap up my faults in a bag and chuck them off of the nearest waterfall, allowing them to become a dear memory, but no longer the current reality.

I love this moment. This is the moment where I live in the glowy aftermath of stolen kisses and little moments of flirtation that then turned the corner into the treachery of the DTR or State of the Union Address... also known as the moment when the weekend fun becomes that real conversation I always try to avoid. That conversation in which we all confess what we actually want and what we are really thinking. I always walk away with the knowledge that I am a silly little girl, sometimes a terrible person, and once again without any more wisdom about what I really want with a man. Because I am perpetually single. I never thought that out of all my childhood friends I would be the "Single Girl". But I am. And boy howdy I really do love it.

With less giddiness and more honesty, I always do learn more of myself. For example, codependency is attractive to me, but too terrifying to commit to. Selfishness is sexy, but gets old really quickly. Religion really does matter. Education is more often than not essential. I have to concentrate in order to not be manipulative. I have to remember to not be lost in the emotional crap that boys throw out in order to make you feel better, make them feel better, and remember what I actually what I need... and then express myself. Even if that means I have to give up the stolen kisses.

But at the end of the day, there is really something precious about a weekend away - especially when it includes Julie. She is so much my favorite. She is lovely. Really. Her life sucks a little right now, but she is working to change that. She loves whole heartedly and tries to continue to love people whole heartedly, even when she isn't sure how. People (or maybe just the church in general) should take lessons from her. And her husband.

Lastly, here's this one for you: 2010 was the most terrible year that ever existed. Seriously. This year needs to be better. So far it has been. All that hard stuff is becoming normal, and all the death is just becoming a piece of me. Remembering them is healing me. All of the illness it changing me into an adult.

So 2010, screw you. 2011, here's to you!