Cleared

Just in case you were worried about my banking snafu, it is cleared up. I talked to the bank yet again today, and the phantom check disappeared, and the bank credited me the overdraft charges, which -- you know -- was nice of them. But three days of stress can really wear a girl out.

I'm not used to stress like that any more. I do everything I can to keep stress low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low. (Why, yes, I am singing Flo Rida right now.) What I found most interesting about the process, however, was how other people responded to my need. And yes, I was needy. I splashed it all over Facebook. I told everyone at work. Some people were outraged for me. Other people commiserated. One person handed me a $10 bill to get me through the week in case I needed to eat. And another friend offered me cash -- a lot of it -- until it was settled. (Which, to that person, thank you, again! Seriously.) But most people were very hands off and faded into the distance. "Good time, Charlies" my mother would call them. Only around for when I can make them laugh. Or when they needed something from me. I seem to have a bunch of those in my life, and I'm trying hard to accept them for the Charlies they are and not judge them.

To be honest, I find Charlies exhausting as they are always looking for the party, but don't want to do the heavy lifting once real life asserts its self. However, I also used to define -- and congratulate -- myself as the "person who had it together." And, ergo, didn't "need" other people. So, whether I subconsciously filled my life with Charlies is something only my therapist knows (and he would say, "Yes"). Except when one fills one's life with energy-sucking Hoovers, it can get to be a bit much. There was a time, not too long ago, where I used to wish to drop off the face of the planet. I used to think, "I could just go out to the airport and get a one way ticket to some middle state, change my name, and just start all over again. No connections. No needy family or friends. Nothing. A whole new person with a new slate." However, I knew that if I did move to, say, Texas and changed my name to Sammy Jean, I'd still want to be in contact with my mom and sister enough to know that they were OK. Which would kinda defeat the purpose of slipping away into the night. It felt like a no-win situation. What I didn't realize then was that with each new career and each move, I was trying to do that anyway. Trying to forge a new person out of the old one. It didn't feel like it, however, since I was always looking over my shoulder. Those Charlies were quick! It's taken me a long time to recognize, that it was my own guilt and feelings of obligation that kept me tethered to my Charlies no matter where I roamed.

Lately, this wish of disappearing has shifted. And I feel, to a certain degree, freed because of it. I've done a pretty good job of distancing myself emotionally, mentally, and -- yes -- physically. I've slowly come to realize that I am my own person, and that I owe no one anything, not even my family. Because for all that my family gave me, they also took things from me, too. One shouldn't feel that one needs to spend the rest of one's life in servitude to people just because they gave one life and fed you and clothed you. Life, as they say, is a gift. You don't pay someone back for a gift. You just say thank you and move on.

This knowledge has cleared my conscience, and -- most importantly -- has given me a sense of freedom that I've never had before. There's this lightness that has taken residence somewhere beneath the mystical third eye. I can move anywhere and do anything, and all with my own name, and if I win a million dollars tomorrow, no one can say that I owe them anything. Maybe this is all obvious to most people, but for me it is enlightenment. And I feel cleared. Sorry, Charlie.