You Don't Have To Go Home, But You Can't Stay Here

I throw pretty good parties. It sounds like something to be proud of because the ability to throw a good party is something to be desired.

Of course, if we're laying all our cards on the table and being honest, the type of party I'm really good at throwing is a pity party. And the ability to throw a good pity party doesn't quite fit under that umbrella of desire.

I was just sitting here watching the Golden Globes when I recognized that an emotion I hate and very much dislike admitting to had reared its ugly head. It was sitting right next to me poking and prodding to try and get my attention. I hated it. Cue the music. Get out the streamers and the balloons. It's about to go down.

I think that it's okay to be sad about some things sometimes, but I always manage to connect those allowable things to other things that I am not letting myself be sad about. This is what makes me such a great pity party planner. I can feel all kinds of bad feelings at once. I don't forget to book every conceivable emotion as entertainment and all painful memories are welcome.

There are some things I've promised myself I would not cry over anymore. So in remembering those promises, I began scolding myself and trying to get my emotions in check. And I think I did. I'm pretty sure I shut that party down and I'm good now.

These parties are few and far between, but I don't enjoy throwing them when I do. I guess my one saving grace is also my flaw when it comes to throwing pity parties: I'm terrible with the invitations.

I don't ever really invite people to share in my misery. Not when it's something I know better than to be delving into. And because I consider pity parties to be shallow and unnecessary, this is even more true. There is a difference between true grief and suffering and a pity party. I'll occasionally let people share in my grief, but I will not bog them down with pettiness.

I've been avoiding some things for the sake of my sanity. I considered whether or not this was going against my resolution to be brave. I thought I should be able to just take everything back and face everything all at once and be done with it, but I realized that it's not that easy. As long as it happens, it's fine. I don't have to have myself together overnight.

I'm ready for memories to just be good. I'm ready to just look at some things and smile. I'm ready to listen to songs I love and watch movies I enjoy without feeling a wave of negative emotion. But I'm not going to be discouraged and I'm not going to worry about it if it doesn't happen right away. Poco a poco. Little by little and day by day.

Hopefully sometime soon I'll no longer feel the occasional need to throw pity parties and learn to only partake in Amy Adams/Miss Piggy-Muppet-Movie-empowered-woman type parties if I feel oh so inclined to throw a one-woman emotional celebration. Those are so much better than the alternative.