I had two meltdowns today. I thought I would spend tonight writing about my trip to Weeki Wachee. Maybe I’d discuss the importance of the classic roadside attractions or the natural beauty of Florida or the complications of being a tourist in your own home state. Instead I find myself wanting to sort through my feelings.
I’ve wanted to visit Weeki Wachee for while. It’s a classic Florida tourist attraction. Going to Weeki Wachee as a Floridian is kind of like visiting Coney Island as a New Yorker. If you haven’t heard of it, maybe it’s a little too “classic.” Weeki Wachee is a natural spring that someone turned into a small theme park in the 1940s. It’s famous for having live underwater mermaid shows. For a while it was owned by the American Broadcasting Company (ABC), was flooded with visitors, and attracted huge celebrities like Elvis.
Today I had two goals: to have a nice day and to get a picture of myself doing the former. The issue arose when I tried to get a photo of myself. I have been riding a high of confidence lately. I’ve been working out and trying to eat well. Unfortunately, I can’t pose for a picture to save my life. Like, what do I do with my arms? Sometimes I look fine in pictures, this either takes a lot of time in front of my bathroom mirror or a few vodka-sodas but today I had neither of those. I took a few awkward pictures, got discouraged, and had a mini-meltdown.
Sometimes small things hit me hard in the chest and I can’t help but want to cry.
I just want to feel good about myself— and that’s hard when I walk around feeling confident and then see a photo of myself and look completely different than I feel. I wanted to cry but I told myself that would be ridiculous. Instead I got mad and blamed the person taking the pictures. I felt stupid for getting upset but I was flustered and disappointed.
Later in the day I had a full blown melt down. Like, crying hysterically in my car. Like, had to pull over and let someone else drive. Why? Because I wanted to watch the sunset over the Gulf but left the house too late.
Sometimes pressure just builds for a while until I have to explode. For days, maybe weeks, maybe months I’ve been planning exciting trips and events and goals and then failing to make them happen. I hate being disappointed—by the people I care about and by myself—and I don’t want to disappoint others either.
I feel a lot of pressure to look like I’m having a great time. I quit my job in September in order to travel more while I’m still young and without too many responsibilities. Even though the goal was to be free of obligations and schedules, now I feel obligated to use all my free time and constantly schedule exciting trips.
For years I’ve been trying to convince myself that having feelings is okay. Sure, it’s embarrassing to cry to a sad song in traffic and maybe it’s unproductive to spend a day in bed watching old movies and eating ice cream, but sometimes I need that catharsis. Feelings are normal and sometimes meltdowns happen.
I’ve spent too much time not getting attached to anything, avoiding getting my hopes up, and running to the bathroom to wash my face so I don’t cry. It’s better to have two meltdowns in one day, in between having a great time with someone you care about, than to not feel anything at all. Highs come with lows, lows come with highs. The only way to avoid lows is to stay neutral and sacrifice the highs.
I spent the last few days with my significant other/ex-boyfriend/best friend. My feelings are more volatile around him because of our sort of ridiculous relationship, but I’m happy to have someone I can be emotional around. I guess when there’s someone there to pick you back up, you can really let yourself fall down hard. There’s something comforting about having the privilege to break down and still be loved.
