Having writers block is about as much fun as stubbing your toe repeatedly. Lately, each attempt at putting pen to paper (both figuratively and literally) has resulted in both a lack of imagination as well as a lack of vocabulary. My entire curse word patois came into full force and I felt as though I could have put a few sailors to shame yet not one iota of what I wrote was usable which made for a confused, frustrated, and rather bitchy me. It is quite similar to PMS…just, you know, without the cramps and cravings. And finally today during my eleven hour work day my thoughts ran rampant and suddenly the ability to write came back to me in full force. But that’s how it happens, isn’t it? When you want to do it, you can’t. When you are busy doing something else and are completely consumed in your work, BAM!, inspiration hits and has a good laugh at it’s perfectly inconvenient timing. So, as well as adding to one of my scripts I decided it was time to try writing another blog and see how it will work out. Fingers crossed that I can finish this and not leave in in draft-land where so many other reside.
I could spout out several reasons for why I have not been blogging lately but the long and short of it is that I haven’t been okay. There was a buildup of sadness and near depression for several weeks leading up to my second psychotic episode ever. This one happened to be a few days after the anniversary of my first one last year that landed me in the E.R. with a terrifyingly insufficient recollection of what exactly had happened. Luckily this episode wasn’t as severe but the next morning my memories felt like a movie I had watched. They weren’t my own. It was like I was in another person’s head watching their memories and remembering their thoughts and feelings. That is the best way I can describe it other than scary as fuck.
There has been such a buildup of negativity that it has left me exhausted. I sleep like I’m depressed, I have to force myself to eat because I have no energy to do it, I have no appetite, and get a little nauseous every time I smell food cooking. I rarely want to go out and do anything anymore because just the idea of doing something makes me tired. I think about telling someone that I want to talk but I don’t even know what I would say so I just don’t. I pretend like everything is okay; I’m doing just fine thankyouverymuch! I take it when someone yells at me for being sad or in a mood when they think it is because of them since I don’t even have the energy or words to explain to them what may be going on. I can’t even really place the emotion. I’m not sad or depressed or upset or angry or indifferent or unhappy…I’m just slightly empty. Good things happen to me and it doesn’t even occur to me to share the good news with anybody. I keep most of it to myself and the person that I do tell doesn’t really care because….well, because. So here I am. Empty, and unsure why. I can come up with a few reasons as to why I may feel this way but it will all be mostly conjecture. I mean, can you always explain why you feel a certain way when there is so much traffic in your brain that you no longer know which way is left?
The strangest part about all of this is something that I realized today. Through all of this I have kept my hope and faith. I still love life. I have a childlike wonder about everything and I love making new memories every day. Because that’s all we have, really. You can’t live in the past, you have to leave that behind you because if you don’t you will miss out on what is happening in the present. And you can’t live in the future because you never really know what will happen and if you focus on what you may or may not have you could miss out on what is currently happening. I have faith in people and I still I have hope that everything will end up okay. I wish I could hand this hope and faith over to my friends who are going through difficult times and have neither, but I can’t. Instead I will continue to hold on to it for them until they are ready to accept it again. I don’t think there is any reason not to have faith or hope because they make everything better. The only reason you shouldn’t have them is if you like being miserable. And I would know this because being miserable used to be my thing but for the first time in my life I am not letting the misery get to me. I will not let it take over. I refuse. I accept that I will have bad times in my life, that I may not always be the overly peppy girl that I have become, but I will never let depression take over my life again.
So, while I am really, very not okay, I do still have certain days that are fantastic….
A perfect example of this would be Saturday – even though the week had sucked so much I cried at work three days in a row due to a few choice words from a friend who apparently knows me so well that they know exactly what to say that will hurt me the most (let’s ignore the fact that I shouldn’t let words effect me, okay?) – I woke up hyper, happy, and high on life. Maybe it was because I had cried myself to sleep at eight the night before and spent 12 restless hours in bed or maybe it was because I realized that I was not at fault for what I had been blamed for, but for some reason everything seemed like it was going to be okay. And it was, for the most part. I attended a wedding with Mr. Perfect before we headed to the Rangers vs. Red Sox game and everything was fine until the vows were exchanged. The word “forever” was thrown around and my stomach lurched. I’m sure I have said it before but I will say it again: I don’t think I could ever get married, and it isn’t because I don’t think I could be with someone forever, it’s because I don’t trust that anybody would keep their word and stick around forever. People always leave. They just do. But I deserve better than that. I don’t ever want to feel the same kind of pain and betrayal as I have felt from every person I have been in a relationship with. If you are special enough for me to want to give my everything to, then I deserve the same from you. Loving a person is the easy part, it’s caring enough to stay that is difficult, apparently. So, until I find someone who realizes that I’m worth sticking around for, I will continue to hold back my trust.
*cough cough* Back to Saturday…
After the 5:30 vows were exchanged and congratulations were attempted to be given Mr. Perfect and I beelined to the parking lot to change in the car before heading to our much anticipated 7:05 baseball game. I had so much going on in my head at this point that I was afraid I had lost my hyper-ness and, for most of the drive, I had. But, true to myself, it appeared out of nowhere once again and as we were walking into the park Mr. Perfect informed me that I was special. Not the hey-you-are-an-amazing-person-and-I’m-so-glad-to-have-you-in-my-life! kind of special, but the damn-they-had-a-designated-short-bus-for-you-didn’t-they? kind of special. Yeah…because apparently people don’t skip around, break into song and dance, or name their bobby pins. This is something “special” people do. I’m special like V.I.P. damnit! And my bobby pins agree. Mostly Rosencrantz but that’s only because he thinks quite highly of himself and claims that he wouldn’t fraternize with anybody beneath him. But, I mean, he’s a bobby pin…I probably shouldn’t consider his opinion.
Baseball, beer, ginormous nachos with your best friend when you are super hyper makes for a pretty good Saturday night, even if everything else in your world seems to be crumbling down around you. After years of always being in a dark place I was pretty proud of myself for not letting the darkness consume me when it was trying so hard to do just that.
This blog seriously meandered…if you made it all the way through I thank you for sticking with me. I’m not even sure if it all makes sense but I just had to write something.
When you fall down you never wonder about whether or not you will be able to get up, you just do it. You pop back up and move on. Maybe you have a few bumps and bruises but you are usually fine. Personally, I love falling. Falling down. Falling in love. Falling apart. Falling behind. Falling for a joke. Unfortunately not all falling is as easy to recover from as falling down even though it is really the same basic concept.
Falling in love is especially difficult to recover from once you hit the ground. You know you will be able to get up but you just aren’t sure how and it seems like an especially impossible feat when face meets asphalt after your first love disappears into the horizon and you are left there wondering how exactly the sun is now smirking at you from such an odd angle. Soon you realize that the heat in your flushed cheeks is not, in fact, from this asphalt ground you picture yourself lying on; instead it is a mixture of anger, sadness, depression, confusion, desperation, anxiety, pain, agony, and a whole hodgepodge of unidentifiable emotions screaming through your head in delirium. It’s an improbably painful fever broken only by the seemingly unattainable sanity of reality. A reality that can only be seen through the eyes of a person whose entire being isn’t overwhelmed with daggers of pain and whose heart isn’t decorated with gaping holes where someone else used to live so comfortably.
Somehow though, after living in your own comfortable bubble of darkness for days, weeks, or months, someone finally penetrates the bubble and starts to let light back in. Lends you a hand you are finally willing to accept and hold on to for dear life as you start your slow return from the supine position you had previously believed you would assume for the rest of your unlovable existence. Because at some point you realize that you have been festering – dwelling on the same hurt and pain, regurgitating the same false beliefs that your irrational brain has set to repeat, playing them over and over until you are so brainwashed and numb that you begin to believe up is down and left is right. As an aside, it was around this time that I decided that I would repeat this gem to myself: left is always right, except of course when it’s wrong. I figured if my brain was going to fuck up my thinking I might as well try to fuck up my whole world while I was at it…except now it’s kind of my motto since it basically makes no sense to anybody who isn’t as psychotic as me.
Once you start to get your thoughts and feelings sorted back out and stop letting the irrational beat out the rational things begin to look up again, albeit very slowly. Positivity is easy to put out into the world but it is quite another thing to be on the receiving end of. Accepting the bright side after falling down into a deep abyss of loneliness and pain is almost an affront. How dare people think we should be happy again after such debilitating pain! Fuckers. But, as we all know, just like falling down, we must get back up. We must continue onward. And this is why I love falling, because each time you do it, getting back up becomes easier. Figuring out how to stand on your own again begins to become second nature. You start to believe that not only will you be okay, but you will love again. You will. Because love is out there. It’s in you. It’s everywhere. You just have to find it.
I could love anyone. Love is easy. You can find something to love inside everyone and I think everybody deserves to be loved. However, just because I could love anybody doesn’t mean I should. As seen in my fail date posts 1 and 2 (3 and 4 are currently in draft form) I’m not always the best at picking people with which I am compatible. I am rather terrible at it, to be truthful. When I am proactive about dating I always go for the wrong people because I want to give everybody a chance but when I am not really trying I can find someone perfect for me…perfect for me but at the most incredibly wrong time. A dilemma I am fairly certain we have all come face to face with on more than one occasion. For the longest time I told myself that this was a sign proving to me that I would be alone forever, but now I am convinced that it means at one point I will meet the right guy at the right time and everything will work out. Until then I will remain firm in my faith and my hope because I have learned that when I lose both of those I go back to my old ways of going after the person that I know will hurt me most.
Going back to someone who hurts us is a common denominator among all human beings who have experienced love. I think the reason we do it is because we like the pain. We think the pain is part of the love. We believe that love, without pain, is no love at all! We have to take the good with the bad, right? Wrong. True, there will always be difficult times but I can tell you now that they will never be as difficult as whatever that person continues to put you through. Just because you love them doesn’t mean they hold the same caliber of affection for you. Learning that you deserve better and then forcing yourself to let go of the bad and go for what you deserve is probably more difficult than getting off that ground once you have fallen. I still have trouble believing that I deserve anything. I fall into the trap of thinking that nobody will want me around for very long because I’m not pretty enough or smart enough or skinny enough or rich enough or kind enough or stable enough. I have flaws and therefore nobody will love me – that is a thought that likes to resurface quite often and pushing it back down is not as easy as I thought it would be. But I am trying. Every day. Because I have hope that at some point I will find someone who really sees me and realizes that they can never let me go. When I really see who a person is that’s how I feel, but I usually have to settle for just being friends but at least I get to keep them in my life.
So always remember that when you fall, you can get back up. You will know when you meet the right person because you will see them and they will see you inside and out. They will know you and you will know them and together you will make sense. And this person? This person will be right beside you every time you fall, catching you before you can hit the ground.
P.S. As always I feel the need to sign off in a very me kind of way so…
May your week be filled with random glitter bombs thrown at coworkers, may your mornings be spiked with coffee and rock and roll, and may your Friday begin and end with a break-for-dance moment.
I made a video blog awhile ago that I never posted because the sound wasn’t matching up with the video and I couldn’t figure out how to fix it so I’m going to try again, with the written word. I feel like this needs to be said because most of my close friends are going through difficult times and I have dried up my emotional resources. I have been crying at work every day because nothing I do it say helps them and a little voice at the back of my head is, once again, trying to tell me that I’m not good enough, that I’m worthless, that I don’t matter. But none of those things ate true. I know that now and I refuse to let those thoughts win.
I am enough. I matter. We all are and we all do. So this is for my friends. And this is for everyone out there who may feel lost or hurt or sad. You aren’t alone. I’m here.
This whole train of thought started with the stars. Do you ever look at them? Really look at them? They connect us in a way that we can’t even imagine. They are the same stars that your grandparents looked at and the same ones your grandchildren will look at and the same ones someone on the other side if the world sees. They are the past, present, and future. And what’s even cooler is that by the time their light reaches us they are usually already dead, so its like we are looking into the past while seeing the future. And we are all a part of them. The cosmic dust that falls to earth becomes a part of us is some small way.
We are all the same in that we are different. We get to made decisions and think and feel and form our own opinions and love and even hate if we want to. We are all beautiful creatures and…we all hate each other. We do. We hate the very thing that brings us together. Just because someone has a certain political view or believes in a different religion or has more money than you or less money than you or lives on the wrong side of town or…anything. We find all these different things to dislike about each other instead of seeing how beautiful it is that we can each be completely different from each other. We are unique. Each and every one of us. We are ourselves, and we can’t be anything else. So we judge. And we find something in others that we don’t like. And we dwell. But life is beautiful and amazing, just like us. But we don’t even like ourselves; we project our dislike onto others because, well, because we’re human. We are told that we aren’t good enough, or that different is bad. But guess what? It isn’t. Different is beautiful. We all have flaws. We all fall in love with the wrong person. Few of us are content with where we are in life. There is always something lacking in our lives. And that’s okay. But I think, what isn’t okay, is to hold onto all these insecurities and “downfalls” and allow them to fester.
I used to be so depressed I went to bed every night hoping I wouldn’t wake up and not just because I didn’t like my life or myself, but also because I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that nobody else in the world seemed to either. There is death and destruction everywhere. We start wars based on beliefs someone else has. Shakespeare said, “there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” And I think that is true. I won’t say that war is good, that is definitely false, but it was thinking that lead someone to think that a war was needed. Shit just is. Someone is going to believe differently from you but that isn’t a bad thing until you think it is. Now, it took me years to get to the point I finally reached a little over a month ago, but now that I’m here life is fucking fantastic. But that quote helped. Every thought I had put me where I was. I held on to every damn thing and turned it into a negative and I will be the first to admit that it was in no way healthy.
I’m not positive what it was but one day it just clicked and suddenly I understood what I needed to do, what I wanted to do, and how to get there. It may not work for you, but it may help you on the way to your own personal clarity. I finally realized and accepted that I can’t change the way people think, feel, or act, but I CAN change all those things about me. Instead of looking at everything in my life under a microscope and analyzing it I decided that everything I have ever done lead me to the point I’m at; a point that I’m not exactly happy with but at the same time could be much worse. I have a roof over my head, a job that doesn’t totally suck, friends whom I love dearly, an amazing family, and hope. I hold on to hope with every essence of my being. I truly believe that I will get exactly where I want in life simply because I want to. The truth is that nobody else will get me where I want to be, I have to rely on myself and guess what? I’m pretty frickin reliable!
Sure, life sucks sometimes, but when I get in that state of mind I just laugh it off and remember that life happens. All around us. Every day. Every moment, every memory, every experience is ours to keep. And we get to decide what we do and how we do it and what we take from it. We can take all the bad or we can take the good. Being broken up with sucks. Especially when you know they have gone back to someone else or are still in love with someone else. You tell yourself you aren’t good enough. You spend hours every day trying to figure out why that person is better than you when you KNOW they aren’t, when the person even told you that you were better! But you can’t change them. You can only change yourself. You can know that they missed out. Cry. Scream. Be angry. But don’t hate yourself. Because it isn’t you and you will never understand. You won’t understand because it doesn’t make sense. It just doesn’t. Love doesn’t come with rationale. Love is passion and stupidity and intuition. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At some point though, you have to realize that you will be okay. You will! Your heart is broken, true. But it will heal. And that scar will be there to remind you that you hit bottom and clawed your way back to the top crying and broken and in pain and unsure. But you did it, and you can do it again. The best part? You have all those memories – the good and the bad – to remember forever. The bad you will learn from, the good you will smile from, and together they will continue to build you and mold you and create you. I always told myself that I wasn’t good enough. I always fell into that trap. But I am good enough. I’m perfect, in fact. Perfectly imperfect because I’m me and I make no excuses for it. Nor should you because you are also perfect in all your imperfections.
Every day is something new to look forward to. You get to wake up and live however the hell you want to. This morning I was down and struggling because of my inability to help out my friends; nothing I do or say seems to make them see anything in a positive light. But then I realized that all I can do is continue to be there for them, continue to shed that positive light on every damn thing, remind them that they are amazing and I am lucky to have them in my life and everybody else should feel lucky too. I can’t fix them, but I can be there for them every time they fall. And that goes for everyone out there – if you are the one hurting or if you are the one helping a friend out, always know that someone out there has been through it and someone out there wants to help. Whatever you can do is good enough. Right now I can’t do as much as I would like because, as I said earlier, I have given a little too much and neglected myself. I am grumpy and easily angered. However I have realized this and decided that this weekend I will go on a small trip (more on that in another post) just for me so I can recharge, refocus, and come back ready to face any problem that comes at me or my friends.
If you are stuck in a rut, unhappy, depressed, confused, hurt, or anything other than happy take a moment to reflect on what happened to get you where you are today. Was life shitty? Is life still shitty? Every day come up with one reason to smile. Mine is generally excessive amounts of coffee because no matter what I can rely on there being coffee somewhere. (Seriously, you have to start with the little things.) If you are mending a broken heart, start off telling yourself that you aren’t done forever, simply that now wasn’t ya’lls time. That one day you will be together again. It may or may not be true, you honestly don’t know, so why not believe that it will happen? That’s how I got over HIM. I started by believing that one day we would find each other again, and eventually rationality stepped in and I realized that HE wasn’t my one, but that meant my one was still out there and if that isn’t a happy thought then I don’t know what is!
Smile because you get to decide. Smile because you aren’t alone. Smile because you have friends. Smile because you are alive. Smile because…it confuses people. Just start with a smile. Then you can move on to turning one negative into a positive every day. I started out small and am now able to do it with everything while at the same time annoying the shit out of my friends with my unstoppable positivity! Soon I will have rainbows coming out of my ass. It’ll be beautiful!
Anyway, I will leave you with a few things to remember:
The thing about goodbyes is that it’s the beginning of a new hello.
Broken hearts mend and become stronger.
Scars are there to remind us of what we’ve been through and what we can handle.
A smile can fix your day.
Positive thoughts help not only you but the people around you.
Life is beautiful. Live it. Enjoy it. Love it. Because you only have this one, so why not make it great?
And, as usual, I have to sign off with something completely insane even though this was mostly a serious post…May your days be filled with syrup chugging contests and buckets full of water, glue, and glitter filled water balloons to throw at those particularly annoying people you may encounter. Remember to always sing in the bathroom, never let anyone see it was you who emptied the coffee pot, and keep glitter handy to throw at people – water balloon or not.
p.s. These photos came from another blogger I discovered via Facebook. You should check her out: A.D.D. Music Mamma
At my temp job today, while I was sorting contents of mail/listening to music I heard THE song, ya’ll. THE song! This one! Right here:
I used to cry every time I heard this song because it reminded me of HIM. Even when I was still with HIM I cried. Because this song describes what our relationship was. Every. Single. Day. I loved HIM more than I can even begin to understand. I loved with such passion, and depth, and truth, and nakedness. I gave him everything. So we fought. He hit and threw and yelled and threatened. I screamed, and threatened to leave, and cried. I walked out that door more times than I can count. But I walked back in more times than that. I always came back. We were like magnets. He drew me to him. When it was him and me that was all that mattered. I would have given up everything for him. Even my family.
Nothing could keep us apart. At the end of the day we ended up together. Always. We could count on it. I could always count on him being mad at mr. He could count on me leaving. And we could count on each other being there in the end.
Nothing about us made sense. Our relationship was fucked up. We were fucked up. But together we fit. Two out of place puzzle pieces that, when placed together, somehow fit. We didn’t belong to the same puzzle, but we were from the same mold. And the really fucked up thing is that he left me. Broke up with me. Disappeared. Didn’t even look back.
And then today, when I heard it, time stood still. I stopped what I was doing. I just sat there and listened. Remembered. But I didn’t cry. I teared but, but that’s as far as it went. I literally went to a different place – I was back there with him. Loving him. But it made me glad to have met Mr. Perfect. He has shown me that I don’t have to be in pain. That someone can treat me well. I love HIM a little less each day now. I believe that there is something better out there. Believe that I deserve better. But I still wonder…what if?…
No matter how long he was gone he always came back. Every day I wonder if today will be the day he comes back. Wonder what I would do if he did. Wonder if he’s okay. If I could have done something more, something better, something to make him happy. Love isn’t always enough. I learned that much from him.
Now I have someone different…new…better. But I know that things and people this good don’t last forever, so all I can do is enjoy the time I have with Mr. Perfect before something comes between us. I would like to believe it will last, but I seem to have lost faith in myself. Alone I am okay, but as a couple I just mess everything up. If there is one thing I can count on it is that.
But the thing is, I’m kind of okay with that. I was always freaked out at the idea of marriage. Of forever. Not because I didn’t think I could do it, but because I don’t think anybody would stay with me forever. And I refuse to get a divorce. I won’t do it. I can love anyone and I would do anything for the person I love; it’s the person that I don’t really believe in. I’m not saying I don’t want it to last – it would actually be really nice to have a genuinely nice guy stick around – I’m just not holding my breath.
After some youtube surfing I came upon this song and a line in it really struck me…
“Baby, I’ll give you everything you need / But I don’t think I need you.”
Goodnight, may tomorrow be better.
Life happens. It continues even when you think you can’t. You’re stuck. You go through the motions. Counting each passing day. Watching the pages fly off the calendar. But you aren’t there. Where are you?
You used to be whole. You used to make sense. And then a part of you left – it left and it won’t come back. It is lost out there somewhere in the infinite abyss and you try. You try to patch up the gaping hole but it remains. To mock you.
Each day you go out with your mask on. You laugh and smile and make small talk and everybody thinks you are healing. You are getting better, and inside you laugh. Not because you are happy, but because you are pulling it off. Everyone believes you. It’s working. It’s much easier this way; your pain is so much easier to deal with alone. When people address it, it hits you all over again and the pain becomes more intense – fresh. Now it is just a normal ache, one you are used to. It has become a part of you. You try to let it go and don’t want to. Without it what will you be now? Where will you go? Who will you become? For so long you knew and then out of nowhere you were torn in two. Your future no longer certain. Your house empty. Your heart…your heart torn.
I can’t begin to understand. You left without a word. You said you would never leave. You said love. But you did not love. You left.
I knew who I was when I had you. I knew what I wanted and where I was going. Now I am wandering aimlessly. Searching for…what? I don’t know.
Eventually it will get better. They say it always does. Some day… Some day I will want to move on. Some day it will make sense. Some day I will be able to let go. Some day I will find myself again.
I focus myself. Try to convince myself that I am moving on. But you are always there. Still. I will continue to move. Continue to continue as you haunt my days, my dreams, my memories. Every song, every restaurant, every street contains you. Your presence is so heavy. I welcome it. I welcome the tears. I welcome you in my heart. The heart that you have so thoroughly destroyed. My faith has been shattered but I rebuild it. One day at a time. I consume myself with friends and activities. With hope. I hope you are okay. I hope you get the world. I hope you understand. I hope you never feel this pain.
I will find myself again. I am out there. Waiting.