When You Feel Invisible...
From: Anonymous Writer
To: Music Girl
Date: Mar 8, 2006 10:58 AM
Subject: Up and Down Days
Hey Music Girl,
You know what? When I heard Reese Witherspoon utter, “I’m just trying to matter”, it hit me that maybe this is what we’re all ultimately searching for when it comes to love and life. We’re all trying to matter to somebody; to be seen for who we are; and to have someone care enough to want to bear witness to our lives (who knew a J. Lo movie would carry a line that bore such a profound statement?).
Ever read Mitch Albom’s “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”? It wasn’t any great literary masterpiece by any means, but what struck a cord with me was the dedication to his uncle, where Albom writes that there are millions of people like his uncle, who went through life thinking they don’t matter when in reality, every life touches another. It’s sort of like what Einstein said about how we’re here for the sake of others --- sometimes merely by a bond of sympathy that connects us to complete strangers.
And even though I know you’re smart enough to already realize this now, you’re not expendable or invisible. How could someone with such strength of character and diverse interests and passions and genuine compassion ever be invisible?
I don’t know about you, but I guess I tumble into this sense of invisibility --- it used to amaze and startle me when someone would actually remember my name because I felt like I was a ghost or something, drifting through each day unnoticed --- and it would feel like drowning in loneliness. And it’s so easy to forget that you’re not alone when you’re so caught up in the sheer shittiness of how you feel. Sometimes, it seems impossible to break through the surface and just breathe again.
But I get this sense that you’re like me --- you have your bad days, but you fully realize that there are good days, too. And maybe like me, you know when to get up again, brush yourself off, and say, “Fuck this shit” and just move on. You know why you’re able to do it? Because I can tell you’re a much stronger than person than a lot of people out there --- you’re unflinchingly honest with yourself about the shitty things you feel, but you’re unafraid to stand on your own two feet because you know who you are…and that’s more than can be said about a lot of people.
I know what you mean about having good days --- and they aren’t even necessarily days where life-changing events happen, are they? You just wake up one morning and you feel okay --- like maybe you can do this after all --- and I think it’s just life’s way of saying that shit happens, but what’s the point of getting bogged down by it? It’s not always bad.
Ah…the joys of writing in a paper journal. I have a whole chest full of them --- complete with a complex Chinese lock. I’ll take a picture of it and show you. It was a hand-me-down from my grandmother, (the one who died from cancer, not the one who died recently), who used to live with us. There was a huge fight between her and mom and she left to go live with my uncle and his family. The chest sat in my closet for 20 years, locked. Finally, the year that she died, I summoned up enough courage to tell her that all I wanted for my birthday that year was the key to that chest so I could hide my own stuff inside. Opening that chest was exciting. We found all sorts of things inside…including a notebook where she’d scribbled some Chinese names down that she hoped to use for her grandkids. Anyways, now the chest is crammed with diaries…there’s something liberating about writing just for yourself. You’re more honest, I think…and when you look back? It’s kind of amazing to see how you’ve grown and changed.
Don’t know if you read the e-mail I sent The Best Friend that I posted on my journal (with names changed, obviously), but it’s weird. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud when I was in the car with her. What brought it on was when she told me she’d pass on a trip this summer with me and some friends. She’d debated last Saturday about whether she wanted to go with Won’t-Commit-Ex-Boyfriend to China…so stupid! I was so angry with her. She hasn’t written back. Usually, we just call each other, but lately, with the whole Won’t-Commit-Ex-Boyfriend thing, she prefers to email so she won’t break down in front of anyone, crying.
I wonder if I was too harsh in the email? Or if I just came across as an obnoxious, opinionated bitch?
You know that book I was writing about? “The Year of Yes”? I realized it’s one thing to say, yeah, I’m going to do that, but it’s another waiting around for someone to come along and ask you out.
Anyways…hope today’s another good day for you.
-Anonymous Writer
To: Music Girl
Date: Mar 8, 2006 10:58 AM
Subject: Up and Down Days
Hey Music Girl,
You know what? When I heard Reese Witherspoon utter, “I’m just trying to matter”, it hit me that maybe this is what we’re all ultimately searching for when it comes to love and life. We’re all trying to matter to somebody; to be seen for who we are; and to have someone care enough to want to bear witness to our lives (who knew a J. Lo movie would carry a line that bore such a profound statement?).
Ever read Mitch Albom’s “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”? It wasn’t any great literary masterpiece by any means, but what struck a cord with me was the dedication to his uncle, where Albom writes that there are millions of people like his uncle, who went through life thinking they don’t matter when in reality, every life touches another. It’s sort of like what Einstein said about how we’re here for the sake of others --- sometimes merely by a bond of sympathy that connects us to complete strangers.
And even though I know you’re smart enough to already realize this now, you’re not expendable or invisible. How could someone with such strength of character and diverse interests and passions and genuine compassion ever be invisible?
I don’t know about you, but I guess I tumble into this sense of invisibility --- it used to amaze and startle me when someone would actually remember my name because I felt like I was a ghost or something, drifting through each day unnoticed --- and it would feel like drowning in loneliness. And it’s so easy to forget that you’re not alone when you’re so caught up in the sheer shittiness of how you feel. Sometimes, it seems impossible to break through the surface and just breathe again.
But I get this sense that you’re like me --- you have your bad days, but you fully realize that there are good days, too. And maybe like me, you know when to get up again, brush yourself off, and say, “Fuck this shit” and just move on. You know why you’re able to do it? Because I can tell you’re a much stronger than person than a lot of people out there --- you’re unflinchingly honest with yourself about the shitty things you feel, but you’re unafraid to stand on your own two feet because you know who you are…and that’s more than can be said about a lot of people.
I know what you mean about having good days --- and they aren’t even necessarily days where life-changing events happen, are they? You just wake up one morning and you feel okay --- like maybe you can do this after all --- and I think it’s just life’s way of saying that shit happens, but what’s the point of getting bogged down by it? It’s not always bad.
Ah…the joys of writing in a paper journal. I have a whole chest full of them --- complete with a complex Chinese lock. I’ll take a picture of it and show you. It was a hand-me-down from my grandmother, (the one who died from cancer, not the one who died recently), who used to live with us. There was a huge fight between her and mom and she left to go live with my uncle and his family. The chest sat in my closet for 20 years, locked. Finally, the year that she died, I summoned up enough courage to tell her that all I wanted for my birthday that year was the key to that chest so I could hide my own stuff inside. Opening that chest was exciting. We found all sorts of things inside…including a notebook where she’d scribbled some Chinese names down that she hoped to use for her grandkids. Anyways, now the chest is crammed with diaries…there’s something liberating about writing just for yourself. You’re more honest, I think…and when you look back? It’s kind of amazing to see how you’ve grown and changed.
Don’t know if you read the e-mail I sent The Best Friend that I posted on my journal (with names changed, obviously), but it’s weird. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud when I was in the car with her. What brought it on was when she told me she’d pass on a trip this summer with me and some friends. She’d debated last Saturday about whether she wanted to go with Won’t-Commit-Ex-Boyfriend to China…so stupid! I was so angry with her. She hasn’t written back. Usually, we just call each other, but lately, with the whole Won’t-Commit-Ex-Boyfriend thing, she prefers to email so she won’t break down in front of anyone, crying.
I wonder if I was too harsh in the email? Or if I just came across as an obnoxious, opinionated bitch?
You know that book I was writing about? “The Year of Yes”? I realized it’s one thing to say, yeah, I’m going to do that, but it’s another waiting around for someone to come along and ask you out.
Anyways…hope today’s another good day for you.
-Anonymous Writer
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