I don’t know when in my life I somehow convinced myself that I wasn’t worth it. That I would never amount to anything. That I didn’t deserve anything. So I stopped trying, doing the things I loved, striving, being who I was. I guess it was fear of inevitable failure. I’m not exactly sure what led to this. I mean I have a vague idea, but it wasn’t one thing in particular. And anyway, it doesn’t really matter.
I’ve turned a corner recently. Actually it was a really long corner. Razor sharp edges. But somehow I made it. I began to realize that this life was mine to live and striving for failure is inevitable. It is a rarity in life to be the best at something or to be perfect or to be the person that you want to be. But being able to experience and grow and change, that is living.
Life is shaped by those tiny glimmering moments, when a smile creeps up your lips unexpectedly. When you feel that little flutter in your gut and that warm glow in your chest. It’s the anticipation in your beating heart before you do something exciting or nerve-wracking. Life is sitting down with a cup of tea after a long day’s work and being proud that you went out and did it. Or spending the day in bed curled up in a blanket because its your life and fuck it.
I think I spent a lot of my life changing myself to be someone I thought I wanted to be. Trying to find a sense of belonging and self-worth. Maybe it was there all along. Because I’ve never been happier. I’m working hard, doing the things I love, and soaking up the moments.
I guess I’m writing now because I’m heading into a semester full of unknowns. Things that could go fantastically or horribly wrong. I’m taking a risk and doing something that tore me apart physically and mentally years ago. I’m afraid, but I hope that this time, I’ll be able to face everything gracefully, with my head held high, just there to enjoy the moments. But who knows…
People don’t wait for you. That’s sorta how it works. I came back to campus hoping that things would be the same, but deep down, I knew that they wouldn’t be. The friends that I had considered family before, I don’t think I know them anymore, and I don’t think they know me. It’s okay. I think I would be sad if I had time to think about it. But then again, I have thought about it, and it’s okay.
In the eight months that I was away from campus, my friends grew and changed. And I did too. It’s hard to be close to people you don’t even know anymore. A few weeks ago, I got some really good news, and I didn’t have any friends on campus that I really wanted to tell. I didn’t feel like anybody would really care. And the one thing that really sucks is I feel like I’m starting college over again this semester, the spring of my junior year. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I stayed on campus though, and I think things would have been worse. Because in the time that I spent away, I discovered that I didn’t really like who I was and where I was going. So maybe a fresh start isn’t so bad.
That place that I was trying to get to before, where I can just be happy being me? I’m closer now than I’ve ever been before. I’ve been working hard to get my academics back on track, and I think its paying off. I’ve been paying close attention to the needs of my body, and for the first time since I got to college, I’ve never slept through a single class. I’ve even found a few strands of white hair that are turning black at the roots again. Being gluten free sucks, but its made some really good things happen. And I’m starting to realize the people are who truly care about me and who I’m happy spending time with. I still have sad moments each day. But who doesn’t really.
I’ve never done the New Years Resolution thing before. I guess winter break just comes and goes so fast every year that it never occurred to me to make some big change in my life just because the world decided it was time to change a single digit. This year is different. As hard as I’ve tried to keep a positive outlook, 2014 has been a shit year. There’s really no other way to describe it. But next year, I’m starting over.
Over the past few months, I’ve found some things out about myself. I’ve learned that I’m really good at ignoring my body and basically forcing it to do things that it doesn’t really want to do. I’ve discovered changes that I should be making but haven’t because I’m either lazy or scared. And I’ve realized that as much as I pretend not to, I care way too much what other people think.
Next year, I’m getting priority. I’m going to take care of myself, mentally, physically, and emotionally. My health is not longer going to be second in line, something that I shove away just long enough to pretend it doesn’t exist. I’m going to do the hard things, because they’re good for me. I’m going to actually stop giving a fuck what other people think. I’m going to stop hating who I am. I’m going to do it so that when 2016 comes, I can look at myself in the mirror and really truly smile.
I know it won’t be easy. It certainly won’t be a smiley ride all the way. But it will be worth it.
Yes, 2015 is going to be my year 🙂
I got home today and something had changed. I couldn’t figure out what it was and I still can’t figure it out, but something was different.
I went on a date today. I haven’t done that for a long ass time. I think I was scared. My heart had been broken before and I was scared that if I even opened the door a crack, I wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure. I felt like there was a reason I was alone. There was obviously something wrong with me, something that made me inherently unlovable. Once someone actually got to know me, they would obviously discover how awful I was and leave.
So how did it go? Not great. Not awful, but I knew there wouldn’t be a second date. And it wasn’t me. Or him. It just wasn’t right.
I’m still scared. But for the first time today, There was this moment when I didn’t hate who I was. When I didn’t feel worthless. It was different. Kinda nice actually.
I moved back home from college on Sunday with the knowledge that I wouldn’t be back on campus until 2015. Packing everything up, it struck me that half of my college experience was over and I remembered everything that had happened in the two short years that I had been there. I had built up quite a collection of memories, both good and bad, but I had also grown very accustomed to my life on campus. I was safe there. The end of the semester gave me the realization that time was still moving forward and that was something that I had been avoiding for so long.
Part of it was also the dread of going home. I love my family and spending time with them, but being at home also carries an overwhelming set of memories, something that I didn’t realize until I spent a significant amount of time away. The past few days have been really hard for me. My grandmother’s health had deteriorated pretty rapidly and on Friday she is returning to the hospital to have another procedure done. It brought back memories of when she was first diagnosed with cancer last spring and I had to start on antidepressants because my anxiety began to be debilitating. Just about two weeks ago, I finally came off medication. I couldn’t really take the side effects anymore and I hated the idea of being dependent on drugs.
Yesterday, I had a pretty bad panic attack. I’ve never actually had a panic attack that bad while I was sober, but I was just really overwhelmed. I had been avoiding a lot of things while I was at school, but at home, everything came rushing back. I also don’t really have anyone to turn to when I’m at home, and I hate burdening my family with the idea that I’m not okay right now when they have so much to deal with on their own. Ironically, I get the idea that me staying strong at home is part of what is keeping everyone together. I keep thinking that if only I were still at school, everything would be okay, but I know that that’s really not true. I’m also burdened by the guilt that I’m so much more stressed out being at home and around my parents and I know that that’s not what home is supposed to be and that’s certainly not what they want for me.
I honestly just wish that time would stay still for just a sec. I just need a moment. One moment.
For now, I’m just trying to hold myself together. I’m practicing piano a lot because that seems to be the only time my mind stops designing horrible scenarios for myself and deciding I’m constantly on the verge of a panic attack. I’m also spending a lot of time in bed because it feels safe there. I feel guilty about wasting precious time, but I’m also trying to remind myself that it’s important that I take as much time doing what I need to do to make sure I’m okay.