Pretend I typed this blog post almost two weeks ago. Because that’s when I wrote it in my head.

My birthday was nice, simple. I’ve come to accept that the best birthdays are ones not with big plans–for those leave opportunity for so much defeat–but small plans. I’ve got rules:

• Make plans no more than 48 hours in advance
• Invite no more than two people, ensuring they get along well
• Pick a low-key activity
• Enjoy

This year, I woke up early on my birthday and decided I wanted ice cream so invited a friend for a treat followed by a walk in the cemetery. They agreed, and we enjoyed a warm, sunny, but not-humid day doing those things.

It was what I wanted and what I needed. How often does that happen?

So if you’re reading this and you wished me a happy birthday, thank you.

The 30s are fraught for humans, especially the late 30s–and for women. I have struggled with that. But I am grateful for a pleasant birthday and the suggestion that there are plenty of more pleasant days to come.

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my doctor to discuss increasing the dose of my Zoloft. I have not been doing well. Rather than mince words, I’ll just say that this autumn and winter have been rough.

During the conversation, my doctor asked if there were any new small stressors in my life. I guess I ignored the word “small” and mentioned deaths, a breakup, self-image. Perhaps I should have expected the look he gave me when, those things, he said, are not small stressors.

We discussed the short timeline in which all those things happen. I left my appointment hopeful that a dosage change would help and reassured that, yes, those things I’m struggling with would make anyone struggle, and I should be kind to myself.

I’ve struggled with that. Maybe I’m in the middle of that struggle, if I’m being honest. When things are difficult, I think should take it easy on myself. I let myself sink into the couch. But, without fail, doing so only makes me feel worse. Taking it easy on myself isn’t helpful.

Sometime yesterday I realized that what I should do is to be good to myself, and that looks different. Being good to myself is pushing myself to go out for a walk, at least a little. It’s Getting up when I want to sink into the couch and bed, and putting on Real Clothes (TM) even if I’m not going somewhere. On the other hand, being good to myself means not wallowing in guilt for eating a candy bar or not going on a walk, but not letting accountability slip for too long.

Guilt is something I definitely need to work on, but I think this shift in thinking might be helpful. Knowing that being good to myself requires me to push myself will combat some of the worry of the self-sabotaging worry that I will be too easy on myself.

Anyway, I’d like to end this post with a list of things that made me feel better this week.

• Taking a walk in the warm sun and enjoying the smells and sounds of spring (not so much the dead shrubs and mud, but it’s a far cry better than a winter so slippery even looking out the window would cause you to land on your ass).
• Replacing both my lost cards.
• Realizing I have not one but two bottles of the body wash I like so much but that is sadly discontinued.
• Having a functioning phone after a frustrating week without service. Bonus points for not having to speak to customer service or wait on hold or in line.
• Finally getting some sleep. At night. Without having an appointment in the morning! And falling asleep quickly!! Sure, it was broken (thanks, cats), but it was calming nonetheless.
• Waking up to Goliath sneaking under the covers next to me.
• Catching up with work and feeling more productive and clear-minded than I have in weeks (months?).
• My clothes coming out of the dryer completely dry after only one cycle.
• Supportive friends.
• Winning a Tornadus raid and getting a snapshot to finally move forward with a quest line in Pokemon Go.
• My pretty new glow-in-the-dark phone case arriving in the mail.
• A responsive therapist.
• A new song from Adelitas Way that’s definitely a bop and makes me wanna move.
• Looking forward to spring break next week and realizing I have time for leisure reading!
• Talking to my aunt on the phone.

I guess this isn’t as short a list as I initially thought, and that makes me feel even better.

Hello blog (and readers),

Good to see you (write to you) again. The last time I updated, I was musing about some of the things we accept as true, and how they can become sort of foundational. But that’s not very helpful when we interact with those who don’t necessarily have the same foundation. In short, it’s so easy to assume that everyone plays by the same “rules” and take offense when someone breaks what seems to be an unwritten universal rule.

Except no such thing truly exists.

I was reminded again of this recently. Specifically, I was reminded that while I think it’s pretty unacceptable to leave a conversation in anger without saying something, anything reaffirming, that’s not what others abide by.

And perhaps it’s not even realistic. Sometimes we will just get so angry that we need to storm out. Ideally, it’s not frequent and will become even less so. But you can’t police how other people feel anger or frustration.

It’s fair to set a boundary that you won’t engage with people who let their anger run wild or even to set boundaries about what things are specifically acceptable. But we’ll only be disappointed if we set boundaries that ignore that people that people are, well, human.

We fuck up and stuff.

That’s what I’m thinking about today – how playing by unspoken rules can only lead to disappointment. And how it’s unfair to expect others to play by your unspoken rules and carry that disappointment with you, especially letting it grow. It’s one of those many ways we contribute to our own hurt, how we can sabotage our trust in other people by tallying offenses they don’t even realize they’re making, how we can confirm our biases and deepen our insecurities.

I don’t want to do that. But recognizing the ways in which I contribute to my unhappiness, owning up to them, and doing something about them is hard.

But here’s me, trying anyway. And if I want my progress to count for something, I need to do the same for others. “Progress not perfection,” is only useful when we apply it fairly. If only it weren’t such a struggle, heh.

Today, I am thinking about the ways I think and communicate and the relationship between the two. If I’m honest, it’s not all great. A lot of it is not-so-great, despite some of the strides forward I’ve made in my life. So this post is a way for me to organize those thoughts without forcing others to be my therapist and also a way for me to be accountable (especially as certain people will read it and inevitably talk to me about it -cough-ben-cough-) without using others as my therapist (-cough-sorrymatt&ashe-cough-). Also, I apparently want to blog like 16-year-old Cole, but maybe it’ll be helpful.

It will for sure be helpful if you’re familiar with the Ask vs Guess model. It’s not entirely applicable, at least not to me, but it’s useful to think about our unwritten communication rules and analyze whether they do us any good. At the very least, it’s beneficial to remember that others made not abide by or even recognize those rules. Be flexible, I guess.

So here are the ways I’m not flexible.

I’m mostly a participant in guess culture–except when I’m not, heh. I think it’s rude or uncouth to be direct in certain ways. Asking for favors (or even questions in general)? Directly talking about yourself without making an effort to inquire about someone else? As Stephanie Tanner says:

I’m hoping that interjecting a little humor lets me keep things light because it’s so easy to go from “I’m not perfect” to “I’m a fucking unlovable monster” and let my anxiety take the wheel. I have no chill. But if you’re reading this, you know that (this example of my inflexibility was totes accidental).

So where was I? Being forward almost seems vulgar. It just isn’t.what.you.do in polite society. We can avoid the rough unpleasant edges if we’re more suggestive than forward. It would make everyone’s life better if we all followed those rules.

Maybe some people, sometimes.

Except it’s infinitely useful or preferable to be direct in some situations. It saves time and energy. And there are a whole bunch of people whose lives would only be made worse by trying to live up to the standards of guess-culture. And if I expect people to suggest what I want, I’m putting the onus and energy on them. Trust me, it even sounds ridiculous when I type it.

On top of that, guessers can seem disingenuous or manipulative by others. I know that it’s “rude” to ask directly, but she thinks my hinting is manipulative or dishonest because she doesn’t know or believe that you just.can’t.do. that.

Compromise, am I right?

It might seem positive that I am sometimes an asker or prefer others to be–if you ignore the fact that the ways in which I am inconsistent tend to be self-serving. I’m annoyed when he doesn’t answer directly but wouldn’t do the same myself.

And I can become resentful when I feel like I can’t speak up about things because of unwritten rules that say there has to be a perfect way or time (hint: there never is). So I only say those things when slamming the metaphorical door. And I am shocked, shocked when others say things that I would never say because you just.don’t.do.that.

While the unwritten rules in my head tell me to abide by guess culture, but it also allows me to save face–at least, I feel like it should. Maybe that’s an aspect of guess-culture. Maybe it’s just me. Either way, being direct can sometimes make me feel so self-conscious, embarrassed almost. I can feel like this super uncool dork for saying what I’m thinking, even when I’m talking to people who ostensibly care about me a lot, want me in their lives, and wouldn’t judge me even if I were a little uncool. But it’s all so intimidating.

Prescribing to guess culture feels like a way to help me avoid that potential fallout. But you know what’s coming, right? A sort of fallout I never expected that’s probably worse and entirely avoidable.

Being healthily direct is something I need to work on, then. And I’m glad to say it’s better–with some people and in some situations. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t take time (or that I wish I could make everyone else adapt instead, haha). I have to force myself not just to change but to be direct because it feels so uncomfortable.

So this is me forcing myself to be direct. Not just with myself or any one person but with any stranger who might stumble across this blog post.

I think it’s good for me. I think it will be good for me to continue blogging more regularly as I tackle certain issues and not expect those around me to listen as I process every thought in an attempt to uncover all my insecurities and prove that I’m doing the work. Because that’s me trying to make my problems into “our” problems, and it’s pretty selfish.

But you, dear blog, exist, and this is exactly the sort of thing you can help with.

So, see you next time (not a Kwik Trip reference… or is it?)

• My next therapy appointment, so I can finally talk about anxiety medication (or avoid talking about it?)
• My grades to post so I can know if I got a 4.0 for my first semester as a college student
• The COVID vaccine so I can have a life again
• My Sad Week (TM) to end so I can stop crying
• This period of restlessness to pass so I can finally get some good sleep (and maybe reduce the anxiety and sadness)
• Spring.
• My advisor to reply about my class selection for next semester
• Clients to show back up with new work for the year.
• The IRS to update HR Block with Schedule C so I can file taxes
• My stimulus payment (or not), so I’ll know how to file
• This guy to text me back
• These plugins to download
• My attention span to return enough to read
• One or both cats to get really sick, so that I’ll know the end is nigh

Why am I like this?