Maybe it's the lack of sleep catching up with me; maybe it's the subzero temperatures outside sucking all of my energy up; but I'm starting to be cranky, my fuse is getting shorter, and I'm becoming frustrated with the whole "S" situation.
I'm torn between telling him to "go to Hell" and just giving it a little more time. He says he wants it to work; was that just to keep me strung along? Did I fall for some manipulative bullshit while he tries to figure out what he wants? I'm so tired of not knowing where I stand with him or how he feels about me. After a year, I feel like that shouldn't be a question... yet it is.
I know he's busy falling into this new job, but we're all busy. And I'm really sick of him sucking up my happy feelings at the end of the day because I'm trying to figure things out by writing down my thoughts. I just want him to TRY a little bit; maybe that means I have to try a little less and just see how it goes. Maybe getting "back to the beginning" isn't a possibility because that's not what he actually wants.
All I know, is I'm tired as fuck, my neck hurts like Hell, my lungs are about to get cut out of my body, and I need to go to bed.
Here's to hoping- no praying- that tomorrow is a better day.
Thursday, January 4, 2018
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
Rising From the Ashes
Today was a pretty great day on most accounts. I woke up and got. shit. done. Things I had been postponing and prolonging, I just did. I told myself in the morning not to waste time; I even wrote it down as my corny little "goal of the day"... and it worked. I'm exhausted, but it was so worth it. I seriously kicked ass. And I'm not normally one to brag, but since this is my little "diary blog", I'll do whatever the Hell I please... and today I'm bragging a little.
Today was honestly the first day I truly enjoyed what I do in a long time. I was so focused on being present, and it made all the difference in the world. The results with patients were great; conversations were incredible and meaningful; I was there for them and for myself. Now, I just have to train myself to make this kind of day a habit so I can fit even more into it. (Productivity is kind of addicting.)
It's funny: A week ago I was so broken, I was numb. I needed to run away from life and fill my time with literally anything that would make me not think about my broken heart. I probably sulked a little for a day or so, and then realized that I needed to just slowly start picking up the pieces and putting them back together. I channeled all of the energy I had into getting as much checked off my to-do list as possible (which started as not much), then repeated it the next day (a little more), and the next (now we're getting somewhere). Within a few days, I was starting to feel like a new person because I was becoming a new person. Well, maybe not a "new" person, but a better version of myself. All of a sudden, my goals became important; I became important to myself. I had been spending so much time and energy on other people, that I had forgotten to care about me.
Today, my friend AJ & I were catching up on life. She was filling me in on her current events: namely, an unfair situation where she and a guy inadvertently developed feelings for one another, except that he's unhappily married and isn't going to leave his wife for fear of losing his kids. They have a real connection, and she's been giving so much of herself to him (not in physical way, because she's not a homewrecking slut, but emotionally as a friend). She's been enabling him to stay unhappy in his marriage because she's been filling this void he has... except that she's not getting any fulfillment out of it. Scratch that- she's got a great friend, but that's not what she wants. She wants love and companionship and a partner, none of which he can provide. So they're taking some time apart from being friends. And I am so fucking proud of her for speaking up and having that uncomfortable conversation! She values their friendship dearly, and I know she's hurting right now. But that girl is one of the strongest fucking people I've ever met, and she is the definition of self-love. She's called me on my bullshit time and time again when I've been unhappy, especially in relationships, and she ALWAYS points out that we need to love and take care of ourselves above anything else, because if we don't, who will?
Today was my turn to tell her the same thing, because she deserves more than she's getting. She's a catch, and giving her energy and time to someone who isn't going to scoop her up is distracting her from finding the guy who will. And then I realized something, as I was giving her advice and filling her in on my situation with S; I realized that, as I was saying, "If he doesn't want to be in this, then whatever. I'm not going to stress out anymore about someone if they're not going to make me some sort of priority", that I ACTUALLY meant it. For once, I wasn't bullshitting.
I think I really did give it my all and left all my cards on the table when I walked out of his apartment last week, and so part of me is too tired to give anymore until I get something back. Another part of me wants him to start making his actions match the words he says; If he wants to be with me, then take 8 seconds out of your day and say something that will make me smile... but I'm not going to beg for it.
I've always told myself after breakups that, "I'll be ok." A lot if it is just me faking it, because I figure if I tell myself something long enough, it'll eventually be true. And I always am. I rebuild myself back to my good old happy self. But this time, something is different. It sounds ridiculous, but this broke me more than the others, and so for whatever reason, when I put the pieces back together, I came out more fixed than I was before; I found a part of myself I didn't even know what missing.
I fucking LOVE the person I've become in a week, and I can't wait to see what she grows into over time. I'm so much stronger than I give myself credit for, and I can FINALLY start to see it; today just fueled the fire. I'm a force to be reckoned with, and I'm too damn busy to sit around wondering if someone cares about me.
One of my favorite quotes is from Oliva Munn (Or at least her picture was next to it in the little meme I saw, so I assume it's from her... I have a girl crush on her, so I like to give her credit.)
"I want you to like me, but I don't care if you don't."
I want to be loved, but not at the cost of begging someone to love me. I'm worth so much more than that, and I ABSOLUTELY deserve to get as much as I give. Does it need to be constant? No. Does it need to be 50/50 all the time? Hell no. That's just unrealistic. But I'm good enough to be made a priority if I'm making someone a priority in my life. And if the only person willing to give me that kind of love right now is me, then so be it.
I fucking love the honeymoon phase.
Today was honestly the first day I truly enjoyed what I do in a long time. I was so focused on being present, and it made all the difference in the world. The results with patients were great; conversations were incredible and meaningful; I was there for them and for myself. Now, I just have to train myself to make this kind of day a habit so I can fit even more into it. (Productivity is kind of addicting.)
It's funny: A week ago I was so broken, I was numb. I needed to run away from life and fill my time with literally anything that would make me not think about my broken heart. I probably sulked a little for a day or so, and then realized that I needed to just slowly start picking up the pieces and putting them back together. I channeled all of the energy I had into getting as much checked off my to-do list as possible (which started as not much), then repeated it the next day (a little more), and the next (now we're getting somewhere). Within a few days, I was starting to feel like a new person because I was becoming a new person. Well, maybe not a "new" person, but a better version of myself. All of a sudden, my goals became important; I became important to myself. I had been spending so much time and energy on other people, that I had forgotten to care about me.
Today, my friend AJ & I were catching up on life. She was filling me in on her current events: namely, an unfair situation where she and a guy inadvertently developed feelings for one another, except that he's unhappily married and isn't going to leave his wife for fear of losing his kids. They have a real connection, and she's been giving so much of herself to him (not in physical way, because she's not a homewrecking slut, but emotionally as a friend). She's been enabling him to stay unhappy in his marriage because she's been filling this void he has... except that she's not getting any fulfillment out of it. Scratch that- she's got a great friend, but that's not what she wants. She wants love and companionship and a partner, none of which he can provide. So they're taking some time apart from being friends. And I am so fucking proud of her for speaking up and having that uncomfortable conversation! She values their friendship dearly, and I know she's hurting right now. But that girl is one of the strongest fucking people I've ever met, and she is the definition of self-love. She's called me on my bullshit time and time again when I've been unhappy, especially in relationships, and she ALWAYS points out that we need to love and take care of ourselves above anything else, because if we don't, who will?
Today was my turn to tell her the same thing, because she deserves more than she's getting. She's a catch, and giving her energy and time to someone who isn't going to scoop her up is distracting her from finding the guy who will. And then I realized something, as I was giving her advice and filling her in on my situation with S; I realized that, as I was saying, "If he doesn't want to be in this, then whatever. I'm not going to stress out anymore about someone if they're not going to make me some sort of priority", that I ACTUALLY meant it. For once, I wasn't bullshitting.
I think I really did give it my all and left all my cards on the table when I walked out of his apartment last week, and so part of me is too tired to give anymore until I get something back. Another part of me wants him to start making his actions match the words he says; If he wants to be with me, then take 8 seconds out of your day and say something that will make me smile... but I'm not going to beg for it.
I've always told myself after breakups that, "I'll be ok." A lot if it is just me faking it, because I figure if I tell myself something long enough, it'll eventually be true. And I always am. I rebuild myself back to my good old happy self. But this time, something is different. It sounds ridiculous, but this broke me more than the others, and so for whatever reason, when I put the pieces back together, I came out more fixed than I was before; I found a part of myself I didn't even know what missing.
I fucking LOVE the person I've become in a week, and I can't wait to see what she grows into over time. I'm so much stronger than I give myself credit for, and I can FINALLY start to see it; today just fueled the fire. I'm a force to be reckoned with, and I'm too damn busy to sit around wondering if someone cares about me.
One of my favorite quotes is from Oliva Munn (Or at least her picture was next to it in the little meme I saw, so I assume it's from her... I have a girl crush on her, so I like to give her credit.)
"I want you to like me, but I don't care if you don't."
I want to be loved, but not at the cost of begging someone to love me. I'm worth so much more than that, and I ABSOLUTELY deserve to get as much as I give. Does it need to be constant? No. Does it need to be 50/50 all the time? Hell no. That's just unrealistic. But I'm good enough to be made a priority if I'm making someone a priority in my life. And if the only person willing to give me that kind of love right now is me, then so be it.
I fucking love the honeymoon phase.
Tuesday, January 2, 2018
About Last Night
I woke up this morning in a great mood. An excellent one, in fact. Filled with hope and excitement that things with S might actually work out. I shot him a "good morning" text... and then waited a while before getting a "Hey, what's up" back. I made slightly fun, casual conversation for a little bit before deciding that he is probably slammed at work and I should leave him alone. After all, he said he wanted to work things out, so if he wants to be together, he'll show me.
And that's how I left it. I made pretty good use of the day around the house (I actually USED my home office for what it was intended for!) until I had to go into work for a few hours. I had a fucking fantastic yoga practice to end the day, and then came home and kicked ass with dinner. YAY ME! And still, I find myself mildly disappointed because I haven't heard anything from him since this morning.
I guess I don't get it. I don't get him. Or guys. Or people. I understand people are busy with work and life and kids and hobbies and a million, trillion other things; literally everyone except infants & rich housewives have shit going on... and even THEY have to have SOMETHING going on to occupy their time and brain power. Why is it so hard to show someone you care about that they're a priority? Why do we leave people hanging on a limb, wondering what our intentions are and what the next move is going to be? It's not like life is some game we're trying to win. Oddly enough, we all get to the end and die at some point; yes, a little melodramatic and slightly depressing, but it's true.
We have a finite amount of time here on this Earth, and I feel like we should make the best out of the time we're fortunate enough to have. We should be as happy as possible as much as possible; we should make memories and leave legacies to whatever fucked up generation comes after the millennials or whoever is not yet at collegiate-level (I would like to think it can't get worse than them, but then again, I think that on a daily basis about our current Commander in Chief, and then he opens his mouth...); and we should be open and honest with the people in our lives. Especially once you hit your 30's. In theory, you're about 1/3 of the way through life at that point; we're too old for bullshit mind games. If someone makes you mad, tell them. If they make you happy, say so. If you love them, make sure they know. And for the love of God, make them a priority.
Time and time again I've made the person I was with a priority, only to come second to football, coaching, work, working out, work again, siblings, work again... it's getting old. Just once, I'd like to feel like I'm important in someone's life. Maybe social media is partly to blame (isn't it for everything?). We get plastered with everyone's happy-go-lucky lives & relationships on a far-too-frequent basis... and I know half of it's bullshit (at least half). I know people filter EVERYTHING these days, and they only want you to see certain things, good or bad. And yes- I know "comparison is the thief of joy"- but STILL. How nice would it be to get a message randomly throughout the day that just says, "Hey, I'm super busy, but I wanted to let you know that you crossed my mind long enough to type this out."
And here I am, pining away for someone who I had all but given up on 24 hours ago. It's like he wants to keep me strung along until he decides what he wants; "Oh- I sense somewhere in the universe that she's good, so I need to let her know I miss her and would like to work it out so she doesn't forget about me." All the while, my ex, T, is still in love with me... and he makes time to help me out with random things I need done, and shoots me little texts here and there just to see how I'm doing, and wishes he could do it all again differently.
Like I said, I know S is overwhelmed with this new job and he's got a lot going on that he's trying to figure out, but I wish he would think enough of me to put me somewhere towards the top of the list. Maybe I'm crazy for still loving him and wanting it to work out. Maybe I'm crazy for not considering the possibility of relighting an old flame. Maybe it'll take more than a couple days to figure this one out.
But at least I got through a full hour of yoga without coughing, so I suppose I should be grateful for that. And the fact that I was able to come home to a warm house and food to make on a blisteringly cold night. And my dogs still think I'm awesome. AND I did two full binds tonight. Boom.
And that's how I left it. I made pretty good use of the day around the house (I actually USED my home office for what it was intended for!) until I had to go into work for a few hours. I had a fucking fantastic yoga practice to end the day, and then came home and kicked ass with dinner. YAY ME! And still, I find myself mildly disappointed because I haven't heard anything from him since this morning.
I guess I don't get it. I don't get him. Or guys. Or people. I understand people are busy with work and life and kids and hobbies and a million, trillion other things; literally everyone except infants & rich housewives have shit going on... and even THEY have to have SOMETHING going on to occupy their time and brain power. Why is it so hard to show someone you care about that they're a priority? Why do we leave people hanging on a limb, wondering what our intentions are and what the next move is going to be? It's not like life is some game we're trying to win. Oddly enough, we all get to the end and die at some point; yes, a little melodramatic and slightly depressing, but it's true.
We have a finite amount of time here on this Earth, and I feel like we should make the best out of the time we're fortunate enough to have. We should be as happy as possible as much as possible; we should make memories and leave legacies to whatever fucked up generation comes after the millennials or whoever is not yet at collegiate-level (I would like to think it can't get worse than them, but then again, I think that on a daily basis about our current Commander in Chief, and then he opens his mouth...); and we should be open and honest with the people in our lives. Especially once you hit your 30's. In theory, you're about 1/3 of the way through life at that point; we're too old for bullshit mind games. If someone makes you mad, tell them. If they make you happy, say so. If you love them, make sure they know. And for the love of God, make them a priority.
Time and time again I've made the person I was with a priority, only to come second to football, coaching, work, working out, work again, siblings, work again... it's getting old. Just once, I'd like to feel like I'm important in someone's life. Maybe social media is partly to blame (isn't it for everything?). We get plastered with everyone's happy-go-lucky lives & relationships on a far-too-frequent basis... and I know half of it's bullshit (at least half). I know people filter EVERYTHING these days, and they only want you to see certain things, good or bad. And yes- I know "comparison is the thief of joy"- but STILL. How nice would it be to get a message randomly throughout the day that just says, "Hey, I'm super busy, but I wanted to let you know that you crossed my mind long enough to type this out."
And here I am, pining away for someone who I had all but given up on 24 hours ago. It's like he wants to keep me strung along until he decides what he wants; "Oh- I sense somewhere in the universe that she's good, so I need to let her know I miss her and would like to work it out so she doesn't forget about me." All the while, my ex, T, is still in love with me... and he makes time to help me out with random things I need done, and shoots me little texts here and there just to see how I'm doing, and wishes he could do it all again differently.
Like I said, I know S is overwhelmed with this new job and he's got a lot going on that he's trying to figure out, but I wish he would think enough of me to put me somewhere towards the top of the list. Maybe I'm crazy for still loving him and wanting it to work out. Maybe I'm crazy for not considering the possibility of relighting an old flame. Maybe it'll take more than a couple days to figure this one out.
But at least I got through a full hour of yoga without coughing, so I suppose I should be grateful for that. And the fact that I was able to come home to a warm house and food to make on a blisteringly cold night. And my dogs still think I'm awesome. AND I did two full binds tonight. Boom.
Monday, January 1, 2018
Managing Expectations
It's been an incredible first day of the year. Normally, when I start a new year I have the same bullshit goals and aspirations that everyone has: eat healthy, work out daily, be more productive at work, live/laugh/love, and whatnot. This year, I sort of said, "to Hell with all of it." I know I want to be a better version of myself, and I know a million things that will get me there. However, I don't realistically think that they're all going to just magically happen because it's January 1st.
I feel like I- and the rest of humanity- have a hard time with managing my expectations. It's everything from time management to relationships. Let's take today, for example:
I woke up (after hitting the snooze, because I was up coughing all night and was tired as fuck when that alarm went off)- ooh! Case #1: I figured that I would just pop up out of bed at the sound of my alarm because it's a new year and I told myself before bed that 7 hours of sleep was enough and that I wouldn't hit snooze... and then I was up coughing... nonstop... prescription cough syrup bedamned! I could've been all uppity and woken up, but then I would've been exhausted all day and less productive. I could beat myself up about the fact that I couldn't even not hit snooze for ONE morning, but I think my lungs kicked my ass enough last night. The point is, a little leniency is alright because shit happens sometimes. Obviously if I can get a full night's sleep, I'll be much more prepared to tackle the day when my optimistic-that-one-day-I'll-be-a-morning-person self decides I should wake up. But onward we go...
I sat down and goal-planned in my spiffy new Best Self planner. I didn't come up with my lofty 3-month goals yet, because honestly, that kind of commitment in pen is scary & needs some serious thought. I did, however, plan my week and my day. I filled every hour, partly because I needed zero quiet time to think about my latest failed relationship, and partly because the book told me to. It literally said, "don't leave any white space or you're not reaching your full potential." My issue with time management is that I completely underestimate how long things ACTUALLY take. I seem to have this idea that I work at the same speed as the Flash, which is a problem when planning my day... or being anywhere on time. Ever. But I'm working on it. I know I can't do it all, and I'm slowly learning that things take more time to do well, or just in general. I can't control who pops into the office to chat or what traffic is like. And I painted a shit ton today, & because I wanted it to look good, I didn't rush it.
I called S and asked him for business advice. He texted me before midnight and then again this morning, so I figured the lines of communication were open to at least a cordial degree. See, I've been incredibly productive the last four days because I've been trying like Hell to keep my mind off him and off us and off everything that happened and was talked about when I was home. I had all but given up on us reconciling anything (ok, not completely given up, but was on the path of acceptance, at least). I couldn't handle another goodbye or any more excuses as to why we couldn't work or couldn't be together; every time shattered me into smaller and smaller pieces. I was basically numb when I left his place Wednesday, because I had nothing else to give. I had given him every piece of my heart that was able to fight for us, and it hadn't been enough. So I sulked for a day or so, and then decided that I needed to not expect us to get back together, because playing out all those silly rom-com scenarios we ladies loooooooove to create in our minds only sets us up for disaster & heartbreak. And I couldn't handle that again.
So, he gave me the advice I asked for, we made small talk for about 15 seconds, and then we hung up. I had just finished painting my room black (it's not goth, it looks amazing), when he sent a message. The gist of it was that he had the blues after looking at one of the photo albums I had given him for Christmas... and that lead to conversations about him realizing that he didn't treat me all that amazing and missing the good times we had. I accused him of just being lonely, because he was the reason we weren't together. And that's when it happened: he told me he'd been having a rough time since I left his apartment. Here I thought he could've given a shit; I figured he was completely un-phased and flying high, because he hadn't seemed all that interested in fixing whatever was broken with us...
Until tonight. So I flat out asked him what he wanted out of this; did he, if we were fixable, want to be together? I told him I needed to manage my expectations this time, because I wasn't going to set myself up for heartbreak if he didn't want it to work or didn't want to get rid of his ghosts. His response: "If we can get back to the beginning, yes."
We both know we have a lot of work to do; this isn't an overnight fix, and it's probably not going to be easy, because anything worth it isn't... and that's ok. I'm prepared for it to be a little hard, because I love him, and I know this doesn't come easily to him. He's not real big on "feelings" and "letting it out", but I think he'll get there. I honestly think he wants it to work (or I'm completely delusional- who knows? I was in a small room with paint for a lot of hours today). But at least I have some idea of the direction it's going to go. I got the answer I needed, so I don't feel completely lost anymore.
Hopefully tomorrow is as good as today was... and if not, that's ok, too. Right now, I'm just happy.
I feel like I- and the rest of humanity- have a hard time with managing my expectations. It's everything from time management to relationships. Let's take today, for example:
I woke up (after hitting the snooze, because I was up coughing all night and was tired as fuck when that alarm went off)- ooh! Case #1: I figured that I would just pop up out of bed at the sound of my alarm because it's a new year and I told myself before bed that 7 hours of sleep was enough and that I wouldn't hit snooze... and then I was up coughing... nonstop... prescription cough syrup bedamned! I could've been all uppity and woken up, but then I would've been exhausted all day and less productive. I could beat myself up about the fact that I couldn't even not hit snooze for ONE morning, but I think my lungs kicked my ass enough last night. The point is, a little leniency is alright because shit happens sometimes. Obviously if I can get a full night's sleep, I'll be much more prepared to tackle the day when my optimistic-that-one-day-I'll-be-a-morning-person self decides I should wake up. But onward we go...
I sat down and goal-planned in my spiffy new Best Self planner. I didn't come up with my lofty 3-month goals yet, because honestly, that kind of commitment in pen is scary & needs some serious thought. I did, however, plan my week and my day. I filled every hour, partly because I needed zero quiet time to think about my latest failed relationship, and partly because the book told me to. It literally said, "don't leave any white space or you're not reaching your full potential." My issue with time management is that I completely underestimate how long things ACTUALLY take. I seem to have this idea that I work at the same speed as the Flash, which is a problem when planning my day... or being anywhere on time. Ever. But I'm working on it. I know I can't do it all, and I'm slowly learning that things take more time to do well, or just in general. I can't control who pops into the office to chat or what traffic is like. And I painted a shit ton today, & because I wanted it to look good, I didn't rush it.
I called S and asked him for business advice. He texted me before midnight and then again this morning, so I figured the lines of communication were open to at least a cordial degree. See, I've been incredibly productive the last four days because I've been trying like Hell to keep my mind off him and off us and off everything that happened and was talked about when I was home. I had all but given up on us reconciling anything (ok, not completely given up, but was on the path of acceptance, at least). I couldn't handle another goodbye or any more excuses as to why we couldn't work or couldn't be together; every time shattered me into smaller and smaller pieces. I was basically numb when I left his place Wednesday, because I had nothing else to give. I had given him every piece of my heart that was able to fight for us, and it hadn't been enough. So I sulked for a day or so, and then decided that I needed to not expect us to get back together, because playing out all those silly rom-com scenarios we ladies loooooooove to create in our minds only sets us up for disaster & heartbreak. And I couldn't handle that again.
So, he gave me the advice I asked for, we made small talk for about 15 seconds, and then we hung up. I had just finished painting my room black (it's not goth, it looks amazing), when he sent a message. The gist of it was that he had the blues after looking at one of the photo albums I had given him for Christmas... and that lead to conversations about him realizing that he didn't treat me all that amazing and missing the good times we had. I accused him of just being lonely, because he was the reason we weren't together. And that's when it happened: he told me he'd been having a rough time since I left his apartment. Here I thought he could've given a shit; I figured he was completely un-phased and flying high, because he hadn't seemed all that interested in fixing whatever was broken with us...
Until tonight. So I flat out asked him what he wanted out of this; did he, if we were fixable, want to be together? I told him I needed to manage my expectations this time, because I wasn't going to set myself up for heartbreak if he didn't want it to work or didn't want to get rid of his ghosts. His response: "If we can get back to the beginning, yes."
We both know we have a lot of work to do; this isn't an overnight fix, and it's probably not going to be easy, because anything worth it isn't... and that's ok. I'm prepared for it to be a little hard, because I love him, and I know this doesn't come easily to him. He's not real big on "feelings" and "letting it out", but I think he'll get there. I honestly think he wants it to work (or I'm completely delusional- who knows? I was in a small room with paint for a lot of hours today). But at least I have some idea of the direction it's going to go. I got the answer I needed, so I don't feel completely lost anymore.
Hopefully tomorrow is as good as today was... and if not, that's ok, too. Right now, I'm just happy.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Here Goes Nothing...
Well, here I am... blogging. Not something I ever thought I'd do, but c'est la vie. I realized while home for the holidays that most people are dealing with some internal demons they don't know how to fight off; ghosts of lovers past, heartbreak, regret, family, work, and a million and a half other things that make us unhappy on a daily basis. I watched and listened as two people I love dearly struggled with theirs. They wanted to talk about them, but something kept stopping the words from leaving their mouths. Little bits & blurbs came out, usually followed by a defense mechanism like a shitty attempt at a joke or turning the conversation to me. It killed me to see them hurting; fighting something we couldn't even see... and I was completely powerless.
I, like the rest of normal human civilization, have my own demons. They run around rampant in my head like a frenzied kindergarten class hopped up on Pixie Stix on a field trip to the zoo on the first nice day of spring. My demons- my inner thoughts- are the little monsters banging on the glass of the monkey exhibit, and I am the frazzled teacher trying to make sure they don't jump into the tiger cage... which is very likely something I tried to do when I was younger... because I love tigers. And because I'm half insane. It's a reoccurring theme in my life: insanity. And somehow, I accept it. I take it in stride. I know I'm a crazy person. That's why I'm "blogging". (Really, I refuse to think of this as a blog, because I could give a damn if anyone else ever reads it... and it doesn't really serve a purpose to anyone but me. I'd like to think of this as more of a techy diary; an in-depth look at what goes on in my brain every day.)
Honestly, I just want a way to get it all out. I've always been much better at putting words onto paper (suck it, I know this isn't technically paper, but I'd like to think of myself as an environmentalist who's saving some trees, and also I'm supposedly a "millennial" and we do all our shit on computers, so you know what I mean). Maybe it's because the voice in my head sounds better than what actually comes out of my mouth. Maybe reading my thoughts is more poetic to me. Maybe it's a way for me to really, truly THINK about what I want to say. I think there's a lost art of thinking before speaking; everyone these days is so damn opinionated & unapologetic about it. They don't care if they offend or hurt you- Hell, they don't even care if they're RIGHT- because it's obviously too difficult to take 3.4 seconds to think about whether what you're saying actually has a point or purpose, and whether or not you could sound less like an arrogant asshole while saying it. But I digress...
This is me. This is me stepping out of my comfort zone and letting the world (or no one) into this nuthouse I call my brain. It's my heart on my sleeve and my soul exposed. Some days are going to be awesome, because some days I'm a fucking rock star. Some days are going to suck, because I'm fucking human. And some days will probably waver somewhere in the middle, with highs and lows and singing and screaming. I'll likely be too honest at times, and more dramatic than necessary at others. But for once in my life, I'm not going to hide anything or censor myself to try to make the world a happier place for everyone else.
See that's a nasty little habit I have: I let myself hurt so that others don't have to. If I love you, I'm ok being your little (metaphorical) punching bag or scapegoat so you can get it all out and hopefully feel better. I will plaster a smile onto my face and let the world think I'm Little Miss Fucking Sunshine, just so I don't have to burden someone else with my problems. Seriously, I turned it off for ONE day in clinic in chiro school and was spoken to about it because people were "worried about me"... nothing was wrong; I just didn't want to be super chatty and smiley and happy because it's fucking exhausting. You think Hollywood can act? I've been doing it, nonstop, for years! All so that nobody worries about me; so that I'm not (inadvertently) the reason someone isn't happy. (Side note: if I want you to be unhappy, you'll know. Trust me, you'll know.) Humble brag, but I'm caring to a fault... for everyone else except me. And I've hurt for too long. I've damaged this little heart for as long as I can stand. And I'm tired of it. Enough is enough.
So, what does an over-empathetic, broken down 31-year old little girl with nonstop thoughts & ideas and a whole lot of four-letter words in her vocabulary do to find some inner peace?
She blogs. Or writes. Or whatever the Hell you want to call it.
Let's see where it goes....
I, like the rest of normal human civilization, have my own demons. They run around rampant in my head like a frenzied kindergarten class hopped up on Pixie Stix on a field trip to the zoo on the first nice day of spring. My demons- my inner thoughts- are the little monsters banging on the glass of the monkey exhibit, and I am the frazzled teacher trying to make sure they don't jump into the tiger cage... which is very likely something I tried to do when I was younger... because I love tigers. And because I'm half insane. It's a reoccurring theme in my life: insanity. And somehow, I accept it. I take it in stride. I know I'm a crazy person. That's why I'm "blogging". (Really, I refuse to think of this as a blog, because I could give a damn if anyone else ever reads it... and it doesn't really serve a purpose to anyone but me. I'd like to think of this as more of a techy diary; an in-depth look at what goes on in my brain every day.)
Honestly, I just want a way to get it all out. I've always been much better at putting words onto paper (suck it, I know this isn't technically paper, but I'd like to think of myself as an environmentalist who's saving some trees, and also I'm supposedly a "millennial" and we do all our shit on computers, so you know what I mean). Maybe it's because the voice in my head sounds better than what actually comes out of my mouth. Maybe reading my thoughts is more poetic to me. Maybe it's a way for me to really, truly THINK about what I want to say. I think there's a lost art of thinking before speaking; everyone these days is so damn opinionated & unapologetic about it. They don't care if they offend or hurt you- Hell, they don't even care if they're RIGHT- because it's obviously too difficult to take 3.4 seconds to think about whether what you're saying actually has a point or purpose, and whether or not you could sound less like an arrogant asshole while saying it. But I digress...
This is me. This is me stepping out of my comfort zone and letting the world (or no one) into this nuthouse I call my brain. It's my heart on my sleeve and my soul exposed. Some days are going to be awesome, because some days I'm a fucking rock star. Some days are going to suck, because I'm fucking human. And some days will probably waver somewhere in the middle, with highs and lows and singing and screaming. I'll likely be too honest at times, and more dramatic than necessary at others. But for once in my life, I'm not going to hide anything or censor myself to try to make the world a happier place for everyone else.
See that's a nasty little habit I have: I let myself hurt so that others don't have to. If I love you, I'm ok being your little (metaphorical) punching bag or scapegoat so you can get it all out and hopefully feel better. I will plaster a smile onto my face and let the world think I'm Little Miss Fucking Sunshine, just so I don't have to burden someone else with my problems. Seriously, I turned it off for ONE day in clinic in chiro school and was spoken to about it because people were "worried about me"... nothing was wrong; I just didn't want to be super chatty and smiley and happy because it's fucking exhausting. You think Hollywood can act? I've been doing it, nonstop, for years! All so that nobody worries about me; so that I'm not (inadvertently) the reason someone isn't happy. (Side note: if I want you to be unhappy, you'll know. Trust me, you'll know.) Humble brag, but I'm caring to a fault... for everyone else except me. And I've hurt for too long. I've damaged this little heart for as long as I can stand. And I'm tired of it. Enough is enough.
So, what does an over-empathetic, broken down 31-year old little girl with nonstop thoughts & ideas and a whole lot of four-letter words in her vocabulary do to find some inner peace?
She blogs. Or writes. Or whatever the Hell you want to call it.
Let's see where it goes....
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