Mama Bear

I'm a Mama Bear. I will freaking take care of you, whether you want it or not. Ask Bestie. Ask the Boy. I can't NOT do something when I see someone I care about in pain, whether it's physical, emotional, or mental. It's compulsive. I have this overwhelming urge to MAKE IT BETTER (imagine the girl rage comic here, because I am too lazy to go find one). Unfortunately, there is almost never anything I can do. The fact that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER does not decrease the compulsion. In fact, it makes it worse. Imagine dunking Monk in a giant cesspool--it doesn't make his neuroses any better, in fact, it makes them a bajilliondy times worse (my spell checker is telling me bajilliondy is not a word. I disagree, spell checker, I disagree).
So I recently saw all my peeps from undergrad (yes, I am slightly inebriated as I type this, and that is why I am using words like "peeps". I might have had more wine than I should have on a relatively empty stomach at the colloquium reception tonight...don't judge). And the thing is, they're a little bit... they need a Mama Bear. Or, at least, this Mama Bear thinks so. Because of the fact that they are all independent people and it's their decision whether or not to share their shit with the internet, I'm not going to say why I think they need a Mama Bear, or who they are, but they do. They need someone who will give them hugs and who will kick some ass and who will just sit there and be quiet or talk about life and make jokes and tell them how absolutely fantastic they are (because, fo' realsies, they are. They are like amazing and a half. And I don't think they read this blog, because like I said, I think like 3 people do, and they aren't them, but if they ever stumble across it, I am stating for the record that they are bomb.com. And I have a very low alcohol tolerance. But seriously, they are catches, and they have options, and I count myself lucky to have them in my life.) . They need someone who speaks their language. And I just want to be that person for them, because it doesn't seem like anyone is being that, or the people that are aren't doing it enough, or there is some sort of hole that I wish I could fill for them. There is some degree of support or something that they aren't getting, and I want more than anything to be that, but I can't, because I am 2,500 miles away. (On a more selfish sidenote, I really miss them, too, because I miss having someone who speaks MY language.) And on a more realistic sidenote, I can't be that awesome level of support that I think that they need all the time, even if I was there, because I am only human. The logical extrapolation I would take from my Evangelical upbringing is that they need God/Jesus, but I am still kinda upset with the whole Trinity at the moment (although I am grateful for the miracle of the weekend, and did acknowledge it out loud and now in print), and besides that, they don't believe in Him/Them at all, and I just feel like mentioning that is fighting a losing battle anyway, so I feel like there is something else that can be done... but I still don't know what.
And my mother, and the Boy, and my friends here, they tell me I just need to calm the eff down, because I can't do anything, besides the occasional call or email. I can't hold their hands, I can't fight their battles, I can't bandage their emotional wounds. And the amount of anxiety I have for them--the worry that I do about them, it's just hurting me, and it isn't making them feel any better, and besides that, they can't even see how worried I am about them because they might as well be on the moon. There isn't anything I can do, so the answer is just to... what? Care less? Have you met me? I mean, really. Caring less is not something that I do. Really, I would love to have that ability. It's one of my New Year's Resolutions, but right now, I just don't know how to do it. Something in me refuses to believe that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER.
Anyway, this post makes little to no sense. It contains little to no actual introspection, because I already knew I was this way (I did learn that I make more typos when I've been drinking though. Yay for spell check! And Yay is a word, dammit!), but it's something I feel like I need to get out. I will say that after I write something down in the blog, I do worry about it slightly less than I do when I just talk it out with Mom or Bestie or the Boy or whomever. Cosmo does say that journaling is good for the feelings and helps you lose weight (I can't find the article. Sorry). Anyway, now that pretty much everyone has commented on the dark circles and the apparent stress, I'm hoping that sending this out into the ether or the Universe or God or whatever is going to help.