Lately, I feel like I’m losing my mind.
My life is kind of in a cycle. During the week it’s: work, come home and spend hours alone in my bedroom with nothing but a million pictures of the past, Facebook and my thoughts, then try and fall asleep and do it all over again. So when the weekend rolls around, it’s work, then go out and literally losing my mind with my friends trying to forget everything. Without anyone to talk to, I tend to keep everything pushed down, which means it comes out in other areas of my life–like drunken Saturday nights.
I’m just having the hardest time not only figuring out what comes next, but what it even means to be me. Who the hell I even am. Which is probably why I’ve been losing my mind when I do go out. And then there is the other thing–I feel so abandoned. I don’t even have anyone I can really sit down and have a heart to heart with, tears and all. It feels so silly talking to people, and admitting things I’ve only ever admitted to one person is even harder. I trust my friends, I do. And once upon a time I found it easy to talk about things. But now… I’m not sure. It’s all me, but I feel like when I’m around them the last thing I should be doing it talking about how I’m not over things, not even close. How scared I am of being alone. And the other things… my deep dark secrets which aren’t so deep after all.
I know I need to curb my weekend madness, just a little bit. It would be nice to go out, and have a good time without going crazy. But what comes next besides that? I have no clue.
I feel really conflicted on what direction I should take this blog. When I first started it, it was after an especially rough summer, and I felt very hopeful that I could start over. My very first title came from The Postal Service’s “Be Still My Heart” and were happy, hopeful lyrics. It’s always been my place to write how I feel, and for the most part that was filled with happy-go-lucky fluffy stuff. But with recent events, there has been a definite shift in my life, in my attitude, and I’m just not sure how much do I really want to say? And do I even want to rehash everything–maybe it would just be easier to start over, fresh and clean, with no memories of the first eighteen months of this blog. You have no idea how much I debated deleting all my previous entries, and especially all the pictures where we looked happy–not to mention any discussion of my so called “friend”. In the end though, I’ve decided to leave it (at least for the time being), if only because it’s part of who I am, like it or not.
I just know what comes next is going to be very different. I’m going to be very different. They’ll be some scary moments, some sad moments, and–I can’t lie–probably some drunken moments. How much of this self discovery do I want to show the world? I’m going to mistakes, there is no doubt about that. But I’m also hoping I’m going to show the world just who I am, and what I can do. But do I focus strictly on that, or do I mention the other stuff–the breaking up stuff. Missing him, hating him, any discussions of them. That’s where the confusion starts all over again.
So the question remains: where do I go from here?
They say breaking up is hard to do. And to that I say: understatement.
This last week has been a blur, and regardless of how much time has passed it hasn’t gotten easier. If anything it’s gotten worse. I keep trying to figure out how I feel, but the truth is… I have no idea. One minute it seems like I’m going to be okay, or at least going to be okay someday, and then something happens and I completely lose any semblance of composure. I just really don’t know how I’m supposed to handle anything. Whenever anything happens, the first person I want to turn to is him. My best friend. But he’s also the person who did this whole thing, which means he’s the last person I want to talk to. It’s this ongoing cycle of hating him, missing him, feeling like I’m okay, and realizing I’m not.
And here’s what’s hardest of all: after six years as my best friend we may not be friends at all. Ever. And while that completely terrifies me, I don’t think it bothers him in the least. Or, at least not as much as it leaves me shaking and crying. I thought we could be friends, and for a brief moment it seemed possible. Like we were closer to that. But the truth is if he were to start dating her–someone who I thought was a friend–then how could we ever be friends. It’s far to hurtful as an idea, and to see it live and in person who break my heart all over again. And he doesn’t seem to understand why that would be hurtful as long as she made him happy (and he made her happy).
Like it wouldn’t be a constant reminder of how inadequate I was. And make me feel incredibly silly for believing that this was sudden–while he had his doubts, nothing had happened between them. That this was about us not being right for each other.
I honestly believed him when he first promised me they wouldn’t get together, and I thought he had more respect for me, and for we had, to not date someone who was a friend. Not after six years. Now I wonder if I am being naive, and… I’m starting to believe everyone when they say that something had to be going on behind my back. I held this skewed belief that I knew him well enough to know he would never cheat on me. But… now I can’t not believe that he wasn’t cheating. And that hurts even more. Because not only am I naive for not seeing this coming, I’m naive for believing that voice inside my head that said nothing would happen, not ever.
Today is just going to be one of those days.
When I was sixteen, maybe seventeen, I started writing a story called Nameless. In it, the main character had a tattoo on her wrist of an infinity symbol. I wrote that because, at the time, I wanted so badly to get an infinity symbol on my wrist. The story is still a work in progress–the editing process is a long one–and up until yesterday the tattoo had always been a someday. Six years I’ve been dreaming of this tattoo, six years I’ve talked about getting this tattoo, and still something held me back. Fear. I’ve never been scared of the future, and not liking it. No, it was just fear of living, of change. And so for six years I talked about my tattoo instead of getting it.
Until yesterday.
It’s kind of serendipitous how everything happened. The appointment was already made, but after everything happened it really was what I needed. I’ve always said the infinity symbol, to me, would be about personal strength. And in the end, that’s exactly what it was. It still is. I look down at it, and I know regardless of what happens next, I’m still me and I have to be the best me I can be. And this tattoo is just the beginning of the best me I can be. Six years I dreamed about this tattoo, too scared about actually getting it. And now… it just feels right. I finally feel like I can become the girl I scared of being because I have to be. If one thing this whole stupid thing has taught me is that I have to love myself, wholly and completely. There are the people around me who still love me, but if I can’t appreciate who I am, how can anyone else?
And thankfully, I have amazing best friends who will bare blizzards to go to tattoo appointments with me, and hold my hand and tell me how rockstar beautiful I am.
And you know what, I finally feel rockstar beautiful. Ripped jeans and a beauty queen smile.
Filed under: life
This is my blog, the place where I can be most honest, and so here is the truth: my life has taken a very unexpected turn, and I may not be around here for a while.
After six years together, Andrew has suddenly realized he no longer loves me, and broke up with me this morning, blindsiding me completely. It’s more complicated, and I’m not being entirely fair, but right now that’s where everything lies. For the first time since I was seventeen, I am single, but not alone. It’s funny the true friends you realize you have when the worst happens. No matter what, I don’t want to abandon this place. I just don’t want to turn it into an angry place and I know that’s what would happen. I’m trying to believe that this will mean something good even as I feel at my worst. (And completely lost.)
I will be back. I just need some time to figure out what my future now holds.
I have a thing for doing questionnaires. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always enjoyed them. However, it always seems to be the same questions over, and over, and over. It gets boring and repetitive after a while (and no one needs to know my name, my astrological sign or what song I’m currently listening to). Therefore, I thought I would assemble my own questionnaire with a collection of questions I deem “different”.
Something you would never guess by just looking at me: That I love to shoot Jack Daniels, straight up.
Five things you can usually find in my purse on a given day: Wallet, cellphone, notebook, empty gum package, and lip balm.
When I was a little girl I wanted to grow up to be: Always a writer. I was telling stories since I could probably talk. Okay, maybe for a little while I wanted to be a princess. But then I figured out I could just dress like one, and my problems were solved.
If I could only listen to one band//one singer for the rest of my life: It would be Frank Sinatra… probably. Although the Ataris would definitely be a close second. And Johnny Cash. Oh man… I guess it isn’t such an easy answer after all.
As much as I wish I could, I can’t resist: Chewy Gobstoppers, Shockers and other chewy candy. Which, usually results in an epic bellyache. If only there was a healthy alternative which tasted exactly the same. A girl can dream, can’t she.
If I could be any fruit, what fruit would I be: An avocado, or a tomato. You think it’s a vegetable, but really it’s a fruit. Mind-blowing.
You shouldn’t be surprised: That there is music ranging from the Ramones to Britney Spears (and pretty much everything in between) in my Itunes library.
If I could travel anywhere in the world: It’s a toss up between Japan (although, probably not Tokyo as I have panic attack inducing problems with crowds), Greece (mostly because I could eat the freshest seafood and tastiest olive and wear gauzy skirts while taking in the beautiful views), or California (I want to swim in the Pacific Ocean. Plus celebrities!)
The boldest thing I’ve ever done: My Street Cents appearance, hands down. I stood on the counter at Wal-mart and got to yell of the PA telling everyone: “I shop at Wal-mart, and I don’t care who knows it!” Put a camera in front of me, and I’m Wonder Women.
Favorite movie of all time: I cannot choose just one, but the list includes (in no particular order): Crazy/Beautiful, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and Cruel Intentions and, of course, The Dark Knight.
My favorite food condiment: Hot sauce.
My worst habit: My crippling self doubt. I’m working on it.
My drink of choice at Starbucks: In the winter, it’s a grande or venti soy cappuccino with a shot of sugar free cinnamon dolce. Expensive and extravagant and delicious. Summer is all about iced coffee (with soy milk) or unsweetened passion iced tea.
If I could have dinner with five people, dead or alive: Audrey Hepburn, Frank Sinatra, Johnny Cash, Britney Spears and Andy Warhol.
Five years from now, I hope: to be working a job that not only makes me happy, and pays the bills, but makes me feel whole. To be better connected to my writing, and the world inside my head. To be happily married to Andrew. To care less about calories, and fat, and more about feeling healthy and strong. Published (in any medium.) A better, more adventurous cook. Happy.
Filed under: Fashion
Purple tie dye mini dress. Black layered tights. Assorted accessories. Not pictured: Black Nine West Knee High boots. Black scarf with multicolored skulls.
For my eighteenth birthday, my Mom gave me the complete works of Emily Dickinson. I’ve been absolutely obsessed with her since grade nine. I find her, and her life story so fascinating. I decided the other night to crack it open, and re-read her entire collection of poems. So this outfit is inspired by her works, and her life story. True, it would be more fitting if I were dressed all in white but there is something beautifully Victorian about this dress that I just adore. Makes me wish I were about to spend an entire afternoon writing stunning poetry–it’s been a long time since I’ve written any poetry–instead of working. However, you know on my hour-long break I’ll break open my notebook, sip on my coffee, and try and create something beautiful.
Filed under: life
Once upon a time…
I used to be brave. It seems strange to think of now, but there was a time in my life where I had adventures worthy of story-telling. I have diaries full of adventures shared with best friends, some that would make you laugh, make you gasp, even make you blush. But more than that, there was a time in my life where I didn’t wake up scared of what the day held. But now… What it really feels like is that I’ve lost my spark. I used to be a bubbly girl, a fearless girl, someone who didn’t give up when things got tough or scary. Instead, I’d close my eyes, count to tell, and jump in with both feet. Sometimes, of course, I regretted it. But at the same time I knew that the people who loved me would still love me in the end.
And I guess I’m writing this, because I feel like if I keep letting myself slip, someday that girl might fade away completely. The truth is, besides working, I don’t do much. Even when I’m with Andrew, I curl up on the couch, hiding from the outside world. Sometimes I even forget what it feels like to go on an adventure, to do something scary, or naughty or silly. I’m so caught up in worrying about the what-ifs of a situation that I never even give myself a chance to experience the good parts. Take, for example, my tattoo. I’ve been dreaming about getting an infinity symbol tattooed on my wrist since I was seventeen. It’s the reason I gave the main character an infinity symbol on her wrist. And yet, at 23–almost six years later–my wrist is still bare, and I am still dreaming about that tattoo. Why haven’t I done it yet? Because I’m afraid. Not of growing up and not liking it (it has personal meaning, so I know I would never regret it) and not of it hurting (that’s a given, but not a big deal) but just of the idea of it. Of change. Of this huge step. So scared that it remains on my lips, something I will do someday. And that’s how it always is: someday. Someday I’ll get a tattoo. Someday I’ll get my driver’s license. Someday I’ll move out. Someday I’ll be brave.
But I’m tired of someday. And I’m tired of being afraid.
It’s a brand new year, and a brand new century, and I don’t want to be sitting here ten years from now with a list of regrets. I’ve spent a long time being scared, and hiding. But no more. I know this is much easier said that done, and that when you spent a long time living life in the darkness, it’s hard to find the light again, but the truth is I don’t want to hide anymore. Instead of remembering fondly the girl I once was, I want to find her again. I want to walk the streets at 3am for the hell of it, exploring how different the world looks at night. I want to go on a spur of the moment road trip to another cities, without thinking of the consequences. I want to sleep under the stars. I want to get my tattoo.
There is so much of this world that I’ve never seen. And, if I stay hidden in my bedroom, I never will see. I’ll just let life pass me by, let the world go on living, having new adventures while I live in my past. That’s not what I want, and dammit it’s not what I’m going to let happen. I’m a writer, and the only way I’ll ever have anything (worth reading) to write about is if I see the world, and live a little. It won’t all happen right away (slipping away didn’t happen right away, either) but I think if I take little steps, shake myself out of my comfort zone, soon enough I will once again be closer to that girl I know I really am. Outgoing, ready for anything, confident in who I am.
And brave. Don’t forget brave.
Things I’m currently obsessed with:
- The Big Bang Theory — maybe it’s the fact I have my very own physics nerd, but I love this show. I spent two days off, on Andrew’s couch, going through the first two seasons, and part of the third. Watching it seriously makes me want to move out already, but to California where it would be warm and I wouldn’t have to worry about snow.
- Gluten-free, vegetarian taco salad — I made these for Andrew for Vegetarian Thursday and they were fantastic. I based the mixture on THIS recipe, only used chopped peppers and onion instead of the other veggies. It was pretty fantastic, and a great start to my goal of cooking more in the new year. (I also made gluten-free french toast for breakfast yesterday as well.)
- Argyle — okay, I know that’s a weird one but I’ve been obsessed with this green argyle sweater I saw last year, and never bought. Lately I’ve been searching for something similar. I’ve found a argyle sweater vest on Wednesday (it’s purple!) and a teal sweater but I’m still on the search for the green one I fell in love with all those months ago (in my size… why is everything too big for me?!)
- Writing paper & letter writing — another goal I have for the new year is to write more letters (I’ve been a horrible pen pal… sorry Ev’yan!). Now that I’m considerably less busy with work, I have more time for writing. The only problem is I’m dying for beautiful writing paper and have been searching everywhere for something truly stunning. Until I find it, however, I’ll have to improvise. We’ll see what’s going to happen.
- A Starbucks sugar-free cinnamon dolce soy cappuccino – not only is it a mouthful, and a bit pricey, but it’s a party in the mouth. I’ve tried to cut back on my over consumption of coffee (mostly because it does add up, and I want to start saving more money) but once in a while there is nothing better than this creamy, dreamy, caffeinated delight.
Other honorable mentions:
- My Christmas snuggie.
- Brand new sheets.
- Sushi.
- Brightly colored shelving (for organizing).
- Chex cereal.
- Deathcab for Cutie.
- Giant rings.
- Random tipsy nights at Andrew’s apartment.
- Brightly colored nail polish.
- Waking up beside Andrew.
