I'm a girl in my 20s

Have you ever thought about what superpower you’d like if you could get one. I have, I think about it often. But I don’t think I’d use my power for good, as selfish as that may sound I’d use it to get away because if I were given the option, I’d choose invisibility. Whenever people would ask me this question, I can’t help but lie and say super strength because no one questions that, what good can invisibility do? The answer, nothing for anyone else but myself. It beats having to explain that sometimes, I just want to disappear, to not be seen by anyone, anything, not even myself. I feel like disappearing from the face of the earth just for a little bit would give me some sanity because off this earth no one can take advantage of me, no one could judge me, no one sees me. 

I found a way to disappear. While I was dating my ex boyfriend, he slept over almost every night in the 3 months we dated. I’d fall asleep as soon as I hit the pillow, as long as he was right next to me, I felt safe. We had attempted to sleep in our own beds every once and a while, but we grew accustomed to each other. When we broke up I knew it would be an issue, the left side of the bed was cold and I had no reason to sleep on the right anymore. The bed felt bigger and I couldn’t sleep for the first three weeks of the break up. My body ached from tossing and turning, my head pounded from the lack of sleep and the only reason I waited so long to actually do something about it was because I could only think of two options, calling him or drinking. 

A couple drinks a night just to fall asleep, I wasn’t much of a drinker before so a couple drinks was more than enough, but then it grew into a daily thing. Eventually it was with every meal, every hang out with friends, every night by myself. I didn’t know it wasn’t normal to drink by yourself. I had watched my uncle come home from work and have a couple beers for dinner, a couple beers for lunch, a couple beers at family parties, a couple beers playing video games, a couple beers just before he fell asleep. So when my friends called me and I’d tell them I can’t drive because I’m drunk at home, they’d ask me why I’m drinking on a Monday night alone. They said it in a concerning way but I didn’t think there was anything to be concerned about, I was confused, what’s the big deal? People use drugs to disappear, to not feel what they are feeling, to not deal with their problems, to not face the world when the world turns its back on them. When I’m drinking the bitter taste is comforting, when it takes effect I feel like I’m floating and I’d rather focus on that funny feeling rather than the empty bed. If it weren’t for my friends calling me out, I don’t think I would have noticed because all I wanted was to disappear. 

I was never a Lana Del Rey fan, she sang about sadness and that made me uncomfortable. It was always hard for me to process sadness without it turning into anger. But since the 2nd break up with my ex, I discovered the song How to Disappear and at first I just liked the beat, how it made me feel like I was floating in the ocean. Lana sings about a man with a drinking problem who doesn’t care about her and takes her for granted, so she disappears into a better life somewhere in the California sun with two cats, but she finds herself thinking about him wishing he’d change and be in this better life with her. Sometimes people change for others, but what really makes change stick is when they change for themselves.

My uncle is my hero. He took care of someone else’s problem when he was not obligated to. Men rarely ever take care of their own children and it will always amaze me how he stepped up to take care of his sister’s child. One of my earliest memories of my uncle is when I went to Disneyland for the first time with my family and they put me on the Matterhorn. I think that was the first time my stomach had ever dropped. I rode with my uncle and even though I was scared I knew I’d be protected. My uncle has dug me out of holes all my life, even the holes I dug with the intention to bury myself. When I was going through a heartbreak three years ago, I sobbed in the living room and my uncle, who is not emotional, handed me a coke and rum and said “don’t call him” I didnt. My uncle pushed me to continue my studies when I wanted to drop out, he pushed me to find a stable job, and helped me become financially responsible at the age of 19. He taught me how to cook, he bought me my first car on my 16th birthday, he burned a CD of the song If I Ain’t Got You and came with me to audition for the school talent show in 3rd grade, and when I told him I wanted to be a reporter at the age of 10 he bought me my first voice recorder. My uncle has always believed in me, but I wish he believed in himself.

Even though he lifted me from these holes I dug, I needed to want to be lifted. In order for people to be helped they need to want it too, otherwise they’ll jump back in the hole. I never noticed my uncle’s drinking problem until I lived with him. I knew it was there but I didn’t know how serious it was or even why he did it. When you look up to someone all your life it’s hard to notice their flaws, and when they know you look up to them they won’t show you how unhappy they are. 

But just like me, I realized that he wanted to disappear too. But I fear it’s too late for him to change his ways. I once told him that if he keeps drinking the way he does I’m going to be the one to donate my kidney and that’s only if I’m a match. He laughed it off and sipped his beer. I would go grocery shopping with him and cringe watching him stock the cart with two sets of twelve packs that he’d finish in a week or so. He was sometimes a mean drunk, a time that replays often is when he told me I was living off of his success. I moved out the next month. I don’t hate him for that, I know it wasn’t actually him talking, it was the stress seeping through, there’s only so much alcohol can cover. 

Little does he know, drinking, smoking, and distractions are covering up who we really are and what our purpose in life is. It prolongs our healing process of what hurt us. We believe if we don’t think about it we’ll move on, which is not true. You need to process the events that hurt you because you’ll be stuck in this never ending cycle of avoidance. I care about my uncle, he is my hero, I just wish he cared about himself.