You ever notice how Facebook women of a certain age always seem to thank their men for keeping them sane? I know I’m probably guilty of it too. Without Mr. D, my brain would be… ugh. I shudder to think.
It all goes back to Enrique’s universal truth: “All men are dumb; all women are crazy.”
I’m admittedly as nuts as the next broad. Maybe more so. But I often feel like my crazy gets rebranded as pessimism when it suits Mr. D’s arguments or assumptions about me.
We had a spat about this a few months back. I can’t seem to remember what exactly we were fighting about, but I said that I’m too naturally happy to be negative. Mr. D said it’s possible to be a happy pessimist, that the two are not mutually exclusive.
I’ve been thinking about that ever since.
There’s a whole school of thought on the power of positive thinking, which I believe in. The more positive thoughts you think, they happier you’ll train your mind and body to be.
But what about when you’re happy, but still carrying subconscious, nervous, anxious restlessness?
I say that because I think it describes my recent funk.
For instance, I cancelled my medical procedure in July. I was so scared of going under the knife on my boss’ birthday, I even said so to my OBGYN: “My boss hates me and I’m freaking the fuck out about getting surgery on a day when she might have more clout with the universe.”
Two college students were in the room with us, shadowing my Advanced Practice Nurse (just as effective as doctors, thank you very much), and they laughed. But my APN handled it like a pro.
“I get it,” she said. “You don’t want to have that kind of fear before an elective procedure. Reschedule it for when you’re feeling less stressed.”
She then gave me the names of highly recommended colorectal surgeons, and I felt better. Mostly because I just had an unshakable inkling that something wouldn’t go right, and I no longer had to worry about it.
I felt that same anxiety last month. I had walked past my favorite Dungeons and Dragons store, where they sell awesome nerdy games (like Carcassonne!), and where my friend Sebastian once bought a deck of tarot cards. It must have been about a year ago when he tried them out on me at a party, and it was a very cool experience. My first one. I was amazed by the themes that seemed to emerge within each of our readings. All so different, yet unique to our lives. Mine felt very specific to the resentments I had been harboring toward Mr. D, feeling unappreciated and worn down, which the cards seemed to reflect.
A lot had changed since then (in our relationship and in my life), and I wondered what my tarot would say now. As I walked down Main Street, I texted Sebastian and asked if he’d be down to rip bongs and read the deck.
“Yeah,” he said. “Saturday night?”
“Yup,” I replied. “See you then!”
That Saturday, we dropped the kids at my parents and ripped bongs. But when Sebastian asked if we were ready for our readings, I froze.
Mr. D had zero interest in fortune telling and said as much. But I kept staring at the television, thinking about my future and wondering if I was tempting the fates by peering in. Did I want to know what it held in store? I had been looking forward to the reading all week, so why was I bugging? Is this what it means to be a happy pessimist? Does fearing the outcome of something increase the odds they’ll go awry? How much power does pessimism hold? How much weed should one smoke before a tarot reading?
Not much, I decided. I was too high.
“I’m too high,” I finally said. “I can’t do this.”
Sebastian said the cards only have power if you give them power, but I didn’t care. I was spooked with the unshakable feeling that the cards would not be in my favor. And I know, just writing this, that they would not have been. Just like I know the surgery would not have gone well.
I can’t explain it, and perhaps I sound nuts. I certainly sound like a pessimist. I just believe in the sixth sense. That, sometimes, the universe speaks to you in ways you can’t always make sense of, but that you can feel. Or maybe there are subconscious elements at play, where your own energies are being picked up and channeled back through waves and vibes you can only tangentially recognize. And yes, sometimes that energy is negative.