Muffled Cries

 I ran it off, which in itself is a revelation of sorts, but about an hour ago, I was really depressed. Depressed and lonely to a degree I haven’t been in a long time. As horrible as that is, I wonder if it is the beginning of something good.

I went and helped out with the roller derby bout earlier today, since I was asked to by the friend on the team who got me to go help in the first place. I spent probably about six hours there counting helping to set up, helping do penalty box during the bout, and helping to clean up afterward. There was apparently a get-together at a pizza place and then everyone was going to some small rockabilly bar, which I skipped out on, only interested in free food and drinks, yo. Anyway, I spent six hours that I could have spent elsewhere, doing whatever. Probably being unproductive. I hadn’t been to derby in months, ever since I went up to Portland largely to help out with a bout only to be shunned at the door by the Portland team and not allowed in beforehand to help due to not being on the list of helpers. I only know several people, and they’re of course busy, so I always feel awkward. Out of place for sure. Most of the people helping there are dating someone on the team, or are family or something. Not I. I came, helped, only said friend thanked me afterward and asked me if I was going tot eh afterparty, and I left. 

That makes them sound selfish, but it’s not like I go out of my way to get noticed, or to ask for thanks. I am a figure in the shadows, a silent helper if you will. I don’t know what I expected. Comraderie? More gratitude? The extremely unlikely notion of an attractive, young, single derby girl being wooed by my unskilled helping efforts and tendency to space out and stand around? Whatever I didn’t get, or thought I’d get, or wanted, I left feeling really depressed, perhaps from being an outsider. I thought about going to the bar, and texted some people, but nothing was viable. So I walked home, by myself, after walking all the way to the Armory and spending my day there after work. I brought it all on myself, and knew roughly how the day would go. I can’t explain the depression, though I knew it was irrational. 

Short story long, I haven’t felt like that in a long time. I usually don’t feel anything at all. Lately that has been a problem, because while I don’t care about my feelings, I’ve lost my creativity, which is probably tied to them. Being emo tonight may be the trickling of a wellspring of emotion to come, which again is useless to me, but if I can regain my creativity along with it, I’m all for it.

Also, I decided I wanted to run home about halfway through, since I haven’t ran in several days and I wanted to get home faster. Normal enough, but in the past when I would get all mopey and depressed, it would keep me from doing anything productive. I was able to shake it off and run the last 1.8 miles home, which is probably no big deal for most people, but is significant for me. Even if I’m not really stronger mentally or physically than I used to be, I’m deluded into thinking I am, which is nevertheless helpful.

Well, now that I’ve gotten all that out, I’m going to go listen to music in the dark in bed, and try and draw back some of these annoying feelings that I pushed away to run home earlier.