Suppressed Memories

I've been thinking a lot lately. Mostly trying to figure out how to accept and love myself, truly. I feel in order to do this, I need to go back to my childhood and live through some of those things I've chosen to hide from. No matter what it was, I used food to not feel it. When I was little, I was always left alone, taking care of my sister, or at my grandmothers house sitting on her couch watching jeopardy. I used food as a way to cure boredom, and my family used it as a way to say I love you. When my dad came home drunk late at night, after leaving us at my crazy grandmothers all night, he would get us a pizza. To me, food became love. It was the only thing I had to take me away from how sad and lonely my life was. I spent years sitting on my grandmothers couch for hours after school, not allowed to leave the house and because she was a hoarder, there was no space for us to play. When I was about 12 and my parents divorced, my mom felt I was old enough to watch my sister, so I now became caregiver. I had to cook the meals, and while my mom did the best she could, it was always something frozen or out of a can. I never learned about nutrition, or health and because we were alone, I wasn't allowed to leave the house, so there was little time to get exercise.

My sister and I were always alone. But instead of supporting each other, we grew to hate each other. I guess that's what happens when you're both so angry with your life, and you know there's nothing you can do about it, you start to reject the only person you have. I grew heavier and heavier, and was tormented at school. Of course I became the chubby girl, but that was only the start. We were extremely poor, and I had very few clothes to wear, almost all of them used. We didn't have a shower, and no one was ever home to encourage me to take a bath. So I also became the smelly kid. I very rarely got to play with other kids my age, so I became extremely introverted. I tried to skip school so I wouldn't be tormented and when I was there, no one even knew who I was. I can't remember the exact age that I knew I wanted to kill myself, probably because it's been something I've felt all my life. I know people say that children have a great sense of innocence, but I honestly can't remember a time I felt that. I knew we were poor, I knew I was fat, I knew that the other children didn't like me, and I knew my father was an alcoholic. I saw no way out of the pathetic life I was born into.

Eventually my mother remarried when I was 15, and we were able to afford things for the first time in my life. I had new clothes and made a friend who was different from the few friends I had before. She was extremely concerned with her appearance, and I started to be consumed with mine as well. It was at this age that I first started to restrict what I was eating. By the time I was 16, I was starving myself. I spent every day of my life obsessing about my appearance. So now, instead of eating to avoid my sadness, I was not eating. It was the only thing in my life that I had control over, and it made me feel powerful. My eating disorder gave me a purpose. I lived for becoming thinner and proving to my family and the kids at school that I existed.

When I look back on the pictures from this time, I see a beautifully thin girl who is covered in sadness. I was only living to be thin, and that was barely sustaining me. My home life continued to be full of pain and criticism. My step father was loud and did not understand me. He was constantly putting me down and arguing me right out of my confidence. And to make it worse, I was now blessed with two step brothers, both of which lived to torment me. I was made fun of, and called fat dozen of times each day. My younger step brother hated me because I was someone he wanted before our parents got married and now had to call me his sister. He tortured me both mentally and physically. He grabbed at my clothes when I passed him, gave me wedges to the point of pain, and if I stood up to him, he was known to punch the wind out of me. There were various times throughout my years living in their home, that the police were called because my step brother had tried to hurt me.

I try not to hate my mother for this, but I do. I hate her for being so weak and claiming she was strong. She will tell me she did all she could to survive. She let me live in hell, and she continues to lack ownership. I love my mother and I understand her weaknesses, but she let me die in those years I spent in that home. Coming back to that home she still shares with my step father, is a reminder of the 6 years of my life that I lived a life of daily depression.

Today, I live trying to escape the first 21 years of my life that I lived with her. Those years where I felt I had no control over my decisions. The years I spent every day of my life wishing I could die. I need to accept that pain, and believe that it occurred to allow me the understanding of human behavior and to show me that I can survive. It is so difficult for me to love myself, because everyone in my life up to this point has always left me in some way. While my mother has always been present, she has never supported me or trusted me to make the right decisions. I fear everything. I fear my failures, and have continued to live a life that I never wanted. Food has been my best friend. I am ready to be my best friend, and let food be what sustains me, in the most healthy of ways. I want to be conscious of why I choose what I eat, and why I continue to punish myself for mistakes that weren't mine. My most amazing accomplishment in life will be to love myself. To see myself the way I am, and believe, TRULY, that this is who I was meant to be. That through all the pain and rejection, there is someone worth living for.

Attention Whore

Recently I put a post on Craigslist, describing what I was looking for in the perfect guy. I guess I wasn't exactly looking for a date, I just wanted some amazing men to come my way, and restore my faith that there are incredible men who are not consumed with superficial means. And the result was overwhelming. I got probably 30 responses, and 20-25 of those were great. They were educated, sweet, handsome and interesting men. I talked to most of them, and it was such an uplifting experience. I still am emailing a bunch of them, and who knows, might meet them if I'm feeling up to it. I am just shocked to see what could come of my city. So thank you to all the guys that read my post and responded. I listed the actual post below, because I liked it, and wanted to keep it just in case :)


So here it is. I am seeking something different. I'm looking for the guy that can't seem to fit himself inside the lines. He's someone who loves art and music, and sees the world with eyes open. He has a kind heart and understands himself. He's motivated and spontaneous. He isn't consumed with material gain, but also knows the importance of financial security. He's educated, and inspired by the beauty in the world. He knows that true intimacy can exist while fully clothed. He's not the guy obsessed with his appearance or in front of the TV watching sports. He doesn't spend all his time in front of the computer, or playing video games. He is the guy who sits on his couch reading a book while listening to the rain fall outside his window and thinks about the song in his head.

I know I'm asking for something most people never find, which is why I'm asking here. If you know the reference I'm making in the posting title, you're already on your way to opening the right door. Who knows we might just become great friends. Or maybe, just maybe...something more.

Soulmates?

If I have a soulmate, this is who he'd be. It might seem silly, but I want a guy who loves cats, enjoys drinking tea, and wants nothing more than to hold my hand. It's the little things, like understanding that I hate to be the center of attention, so he doesn't put me there, or just brushing my hair from my eyes in one confident stroke of his hand. I want him to wear cardigans, with ripped sneakers and dark rimmed glasses. Someone who thinks laying in bed while we each read our favorite book is an incredible way to end a saturday night. I want someone who isn't interested in sports and who would love to have coffee and talk about his favorite musicans/bands...because they'd be mine too. When I play him my favorite song, without asking, he will hang on every word, because he knows the importance of this song in my life. He will find songs that he thinks I will love, and WILL love them. I'll hold his hand, and a sense of calmness will come over me, and it'll bring me to tears. I will lay naked with him in broad day light and watch him as he notices every curve, every wrinkle, every imperfection and tells me I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen because he means it. He won't get angry when I get anxious, but let me have my moment, and quietly love me through it. He will know that while I am emotional, my emotions are not a weakness, and he will honor them and never take advantage of them or criticize me for them. He won't hang our relationship over my head or threaten me with his love. His love for me will be unconditional. He will teach me about art, and science, help me to see the world through new eyes. I will feel challenged and respected each and every day we are together. He will be educated, and love learning as much as he loves life. He won't be consumed by financial gain, but he will know the importance of financial security. This soulmate of mine will hold me in the most gentle and secure way I'll ever know. He'll make love to me, not because I want us to be emotionally connected, but because it's impossible for him not to be connected to me. He will also know just how much authority to show when we're having sex so that it turns me on but does not scare me. He will sing to me as he plays the guitar, and be the first guy I've ever known to teach me how to play. He'll believe in my strength, and listen to every painful childhood memory without wanting to run. I will the greatest love of his life, and he will be mine.

Healthy Changes

So much has gone on since my last blog post and I'm angry with myself for not having posted anything. I had looked at the blog several times and tried to motivate myself, but felt overwhelmed in trying to write down all the insanity that was my life. I guess I'll break it up into topics.

Shortly after my last post, a friend of mine from high school was shot and killed. I hadn't been close to this person in about ten years, but I felt overwhelmed with loss. He was part of my former life, one that I haven't really been able to look at for years. I moved away from home and I guess tried to keep the people there in a separate place, as if their lives weren't going on without me. This friend, Alan, had gotten involved in drugs and alcohol, and had made a lot of mistakes since high school, and I was angry that his life was taken from him. He never had the opportunity to change things. I guess everyone can say that addicts aren't their behaviors, but he truly was a gifted, caring person, and I feel like his life amounted to very little. With his death, I find that I want change. I'm frustrated with myself for trying to block out my past. Because of his death, I reunited with my first boyfriend, someone that changed the course of my life at one time, and who I haven't talked to in many years. I don't know how life can get so consuming, but it terrifies me. I have tried so hard to hide from my childhood and my past, and I know it's only hurt me. Those people, while some of them making bad decisions, were a large part of my young adult life, and I need to acknowledge them. I need to accept that while I may not want that life for myself, now that I can choose my path, that life existed, and it's part of who I am.

In addition to this, Andrew who I thought was gone, resurfaced. And admitted that while he had feelings for me, he couldn't see himself being with me because of my weight. He said that he was attracted to me, and thought I was beautiful, but was too insecure to be with someone that looked like me. He even mentioned not being motivated enough to lose his own weight if he was with someone like me. I think the worst comment made during this discussion was when he said, "You know how when you're with someone and they start to lose weight, and you worry that you could lose them? Yeah, I would never worry about that with you." Initially, as we're laying in my bed and he's telling me all this, I begin to cry, but I'm not angry. I even cuddled with him for awhile after, and kissed him goodbye. It was such a strange experience because he was probably the sweetest he's ever been to me that night. After I spoked with my best friend Meg, she reminded me that this is abusive, and that I did not need to have someone in my life like that. I don't think I even got angry or upset because I'm so used to be talked to like that. It's disgusting to think that I accept people like that. So I gave it a second of thought, and then texted him and told him it was unhealthy for me to have him in my life and asked that he never contact me again. Well ofcourse, two weeks later on Halloween, he calls at 1:30 in the morning. When I text back, I find out it's him, and claims he misses me, and wishes we could be friends. And again, I contemplate this. Why do I do that? WHY do I think that someone like that is deserving of my friendship? My standards are so low that I'm desperate to hold on to people. Even people like Andrew, whose company I don't really enjoy. But it's finally over, I told him to get away from me, and he even said he was hurt with how mean I was to him.

That is just like an abuser, to make it about themselves, and not about what they've done to you. His words replay in my head every day. I've become terrified of opening myself up again. I feel unattractive and unloveable. All because of words he so carelessly let fill the air. It is going to take me years to get over those words, and I need to understand what it was about myself that allowed him into my life.

I have been trying to do more work on myself. I get distracted, or unmotivated, because I feel like I'm wasting my time. I can't even remember what I wanted to learn in the first place. But all I want to do is learn. I feel like I'm losing what was so important to me. I keep striving to better understand myself, to further my place in life, and to accept things that maybe I can't change. There are so many little things in my life that I have control over. I want to exercise that control. I want to find peace in who I am, enough that I can find the confidence to do things I love. I want my mothers voice to leave my head. She's there when I'm looking in the mirror, sometimes even when I'm trying to be comfortable alone with someone else. I hear her telling me to worry, that he doesn't love me enough, that he will leave. The rage that fills me scares me. I don't want to hate her, because I don't hate her. The reality is I need her acceptance more than any mans. I want to be enough, just for one day to believe that I am everything I was meant to be.

Life's Buttery Moments

I should have written throughout the course of the last week and a half, but I didn't, and of course now I don't remember all those moments that seemed so important. I guess maybe that's what I should take from this, is that they seemed life changing while they were happening, and now only a week later and they really aren't that important.

My ex and I tried to communicate a few times the last week or so, about trying to see each other before he moves. And now he is saying he doesn't want to be my friend on facebook because it makes things to difficult for him. So I made the decision to let him go completely, and I need to stand by this decision, regardless of what weakness may fill me. Let him make mistakes and love someone else, even if I can't understand it. I am thankful that he didn't love me enough. I will allow myself to love me.

Here is a moment that I remember from last week. Wednesday afternoon I had to take my car to get inspected, and I didn't want to sit in the mechanics while it was worked on. So I walked through my old neighborhood and found myself in the small park where there was a playground for children, and I sat for awhile and read my book. A women came with her three boys and they stared at me and made comments, but I continued to sit and read. I allowed myself to be completely alone in that moment, and while I only stayed a half an hour, I was very proud of myself. It felt amazing to give myself time. I need to continue to practice this in other ways. I was thinking about taking myself to the movies. Probably a Sunday Matinée to start, but I think I could handle it. I should start my day and do something for myself, again :)

Why I feel the things I do

My urge for running is very strong right now. I feel overwhelmed with thoughts of packing up my things and going anywhere else, just away from my life. I know this won't change the way I feel or hide some of the things that I have been trying to avoid my entire life. But it feels like a temporary change may make things better. I can't stand the awful monotony of my life anymore. I sometimes think that I was happier in the pieces of my former life.

I realize that I blog now, and I journal, but I don't actually write. I used to write poems and shorts, and I miss this soo much. Why am I not doing this? What has happened to the person that I thought I was and wanted to be. I'm only 26 and I feel like I've lost direction. Why should 26 feel so old? I want to love the direction that my life is taking me. I need to stop hoping for change and feeling that change is necessary and just loving the moments that I find myself in. I am capable of making the right choices. I am more than capable of the things that I want, but I continue to back myself into corners or try and convince myself of my inadequecies. It's as if I want myself to be miserable, so I feel like I'm deserving of the horrible life that I've got myself stuck in.

I guess I don't really know what makes someone's life good or bad. I think a lot of people gravitate toward the traditional answers of family and friends, having people around you that love you and a general purpose for being. I have friends, quite a few that I care about, but I haven't had any in a long time that I really felt connected with. I haven't had that feeling since college. And I'm not close with my family. I have my sister and sometimes my mother to find support from, but they don't understand me, and honestly, haven't really tried. I've been circling around my whole life trying to find someone to fill this huge emptiness. As if the moment I found true love, all of the loathing and self hatred would fall away. But what is a life really without people who love us?
I'm confident there are people that love me, and this should be enough. I think having interests and pursuing them, make a person happy. I have so many interests, I can only scratch at the surface of them or I become overwhelmed with all that I want to do. I also find it fascinating how much I adore travel and discovering new places, and how I have never really done any of my own travel. I would give absolutely anything to explore the world. And this comes back the beginning, where I complained about not writing, not challenging myself and my interests.

I am hopefull that I can make a change soon, and will take a small step to get back into school and open my mind to education again, and the possibilities that it will give me. I need to believe that I got my degree in psychology for a reason, and that that choice has shaped who I am now, and the life that I would like to have. I know that I can't continue to work where I work and still remain relatively healthy mentally. I hope that after the next two weeks in which I will have to live off of less than $200, I can find the money to apply for the graduate program at Buff State. I'm confident I will get accepted, and then I will start looking for jobs and apartments. I'm excited for the prosect of that kind of change, and I honeslty don't feel like I'm running away, but more in a direction to better myself and my situation. I hope that after a few years in Buffalo, I will be ready to make an even bigger change and move to Boston or NYC. It's difficult to want so many things and not be able to support myself financially enough to acheive them.

So I have to stick it out at my job for another seven or eight months. This seems like it's forever, and believe me, it probably is. I don't know if I can afford to move unless I get another second job to help save some money. I'm going to have to start seriously looking for other jobs. I feel too old to have a second job, but I know with the economy the way it is, most people have two and three jobs. Do you ever feel like this life isn't real? That you could move somewhere that you weren't reminded of the financial concerns of the country, or the state of war that we are in? That there is a private island somewhere that people go to, that doesn't have the confines of a government. So much of the time I feel like the thoughts I have, don't have a place in the world I live in. Sometimes I think it's possible that maybe another country would better suit my personality.

I'm going to hold out over the next few months, hating my job, and hopefully finding another one part time, that I might actually like? And then I will move and start this ball rolling...(God I don't want to go to work in 2 hours)

I finally get it right

Last night I went to dinner with three ladies. It was interesting because the four of us are all very different and in different places in our lives, and yet the entire dinner conversation focused around our failed romantic relationships.

Three of the four of us are dating one specific person, but casually, and not feeling fufilled emotionally. The other girl, who was someone I had just met that night, just got out of an 8 year relationship about a month ago, where she was engaged for 3 of those years. She told us that she has only heard negative things from her friends and is absolutely terrified of putting herself out there again. I tried to calm her fears, but I think I failed :/

While we were eating dinner, I got a text from the guy that I've been sorta seeing for the past three months. I decided to go over to his house and it was both a sad and necessary experience. It's very strange because we find each other attractive and we have a great sexual/physical chemistry, but emotionally...I feel nothing. Most of the time, I don't even enjoy spending time with him, because I'm so frustrated with the fact that we can't make something between us work. He expressed the same feelings for me. Saying that there were so many things about me that he loved, but about the same number of things that he didn't. He told me he's never felt attraction to someone like he has for me, and that it's so strong he is afraid of it.

He has been saying this in one form or another for almost the entire time we've been seeing each other. Initially, I felt rejected and wanted to be whatever it was that he wanted, because this is what I've done in the past. In the last month or so, I really took a look at my feelings for him, and realized, that there honestly were any. He's a nice guy, very attractive, intelligent, has a stable job, but those things aren't what makes you fall in love with someone. He has almost none of the qualities I look for. He even told me that I never talk about my interests with him or share who I am. I realized that this was extremely odd because with everyone else in my life I'm an open book.

We were laying in his bed, and initially we went in the physical direction, but I quickly stopped things, explaining to him that while sex with him is amazing, it also leaves me feeling sad. Everytime we have had sex, I realize about 2/3 of the way through it, that I don't care about him, and that he doesn't care about me, and this leaves me feeling empty and angry with myself. I told him that I wasn't willing to feel that way again. He agreed that he has a similar reaction to being with me.

It was a very strange ending to the night, him saying he didn't want to lay in bed anymore and me saying that's what I wanted. It was kinda like both of us telling the other, This is who I am, and realizing that those two people are in two very different places. He offered to walk me downstairs, and I told him he didn't have to like every other time, only this time, for the first time, he actually didn't walk me downstairs.

I will probably never see Andrew again.

Gonna find my way

I am feeling very drained, considering that I have a cold. This feeling has kept me distracted from progressing forward like I have planned. I decided to take Saturday off from work, even though I'm extremly behind in my work and already took two Saturdays off this month. (Wow, as I was typing this, the neighbor walked down the hall and it appeared as if he knocked on my door) I honestly don't know if I enjoy living in this neighborhood :( I miss my old apartment and my private porch entrance.

I did something amazing yesterday. I had found this heart shaped rock when walking with my mom over the weekend and had brought it back with me to the city. I painted it last night and then felt inspired to work on a painting that I've wanted to do for months. I think I like where it's going, but I feel like there is a lot more layers I'd like to add. I got lost in this for a few hours last night, and really remember why I love art so much. I miss letting myself go that way. I love it so much and I never do it. I'm really greatful to have done that for myself and I know I will be doing it more often from this point on.

Uh, this sick feeling is so depressing for me. I hate the way that can make me forget all the important things.I'm just exhausted and it's making me feel tired in other ways too.

I'm leaving it here because I got distracted and now I'm exhausted.

And so here you are

Last night I had a million thoughts running through my head that I wanted to document on this blog. But as luck would have it, I was at work, and I cannot log onto my blog there :/ And of course, not really sure what all those thoughts were today.

I guess I can start with my weekend and all the moments that felt life changing, that in the future I may not remember as vividly as I do now. I had an incredible time on Friday night just going out and being able to drink and let go of myself for a night. I haven't really done that in a couple years, and I was glad that for that moment, and would like more of those.

There was also the death of one of my clients. I feel very strange about this, because she was someone I saw every day of my life for the last two years, and I hardly knew her. Her life was very insignificant to me, and my heart is unsure. I remember initially feeling a great deal of shock, because it was never something I thought would happen, and it still doesn't really seem true. I think the realness of it is what is hitting me the most. That I have told myself for years that tomorrow I would attempt to achieve all the things on my list, but what if I run out of time? I'm always putting things off, and I am sure that my client felt she had more time too. I don't know if I can really define this in any better way, but if there was a higher being or a greater purpose, I hope that it understands that I really do want to achieve these things, and I am in no way ready to leave, despite what I may say on some of my bad days. I have to continue to remind myself that I have value as a person and that just being alive is a privilege, not a right.

I also had a very long and meaningful conversation with one of my family members, who I hope never finds this blog. I have always, in almost every form, disliked the majority of the members of my family. I grew up believing that I was the one that didn't fit, and that they were doing things the right way, as I continued to do them wrong. As I get older, and after having this conversation with my Cousin, I realize now that this is not the case. How can people who are your blood, judge you so harshly? And the most frustrating part is that they feel they are entitled. It is because of them that I criticize everyone I come in contact with, and why just being myself has never been enough. It is such a complete contradiction of personalities I encounter in my family. They are some of the most amazingly sweet and caring women I know, and yet they can cut a person down in seconds with their words. I tell myself that if I confront them enough, that the words that mean so much to me, will mean so much to them. But I have exhausted myself for years expressing myself. Asking them to accept me and love me. They claim to love me, but they ridicule me. And not just me, but each other.

I believe maybe it's the size of my family and the smallness of the area in which we were all raised, that continues to promote this behavior. For years and years I believed that it is okay for all members of my family to know what I am doing in my life at any given time, as if it is their right to judge the decisions I make. I have absolutely had enough of this. I have never learned to trust myself, because I have always feared the multitude of their opinions. I have told myself that because they all feel this way, that I am wrong and they are right. I am NOT wrong. And I will not listen to a word they say any longer. I have tried desperately to distance myself from them over the years, for which they have continued to give me criticism. They claim to want me to be happy. Well when I am in close proximity to them, I lose myself and begin to get lost in their negativity.

I want to tell you that I love them all, and can accept them and meet them where they are at. This is not true. I am in a very difficult stage in my life, where I honestly have no attachment to a single one of my family members, except my sister. I know that it will sound like I am being too harsh and not understanding that human behavior isn't a fixed thing. I have been understanding my 26 years and I understand now what damage that has done to my well being. I feel at this point, there is not much more I can do in this place, and I need to move forward while leaving them behind.

I deserve to feel accepted and loved by my family members. This will never be my reality. I will never have a grandmother who hangs on the words I say, or eagerly awaits my arrival at a family function. I won't have a mother who respects my boundaries and trusts my abilities to make decisions. I won't have a father who I turn to for support and guidance, who is the foundation of my self respect. I do not and will not have these things. And I must understand this and move forward.

This is an essential piece of the puzzle that is learning to be alone with myself. I will discover what makes me incredible. I will identify what makes me weak, and I will teach myself how to conquer these behaviors that were instilled in me by my family for the last 26 years. I can't even begin to comprehend how difficult this life is going to be...

How to Be Alone

This blog is the first I'll write in my quest to become comfortable in being alone with myself. I put so much emphasis on avoiding my alone time. I hide in the company of others, and most of the time it's spent with people I really don't feel I make a connection with. I have guilt when I'm alone, blaming myself for the lack of phone calls or people's interest.

I'd like to begin with the understanding that if I never change a single thing about myself or my life, that I am complete and enough this way. I really, desperately want to believe that. I want to know that I deserve happiness in my life. That just the fact that I made it to this place is enough.

I feel like I'm utterly terrified of being alone with myself. I mean really alone. No internet, no TV, no distractions of my cell phone. To just sit and give myself something that I really want. To take moments for myself. To believe that I deserve to enjoy my life. I keep on punishing myself, every day, for the past, for today, for tomorrow. This endless cycle of failure and relentless rejection is exhausting. Just thinking about this give me extreme anxiety, that I will never find a way out of this mess. Out of this house of cards I've built over top of me.

I would love to come to terms with the fact that I will never be model worthy. I have been fat, and my body is that of a fat girl. I have stretch marks. Deep, thick lines that cut into my skin and are a testimant to where I've been and what I've been through. I have hundreds of self induced scars. My legs are covered in spider veins. I have acne. My hair gets gray. My hair grows in places it shouldn't. I bit my nails and I crack my knuckles. My boobs have since fallen from their once perky place. But this is the body I have, and if I lose weight...all of these things will never be better than they are today.

Here is the point to all of this. I would like to learn to love myself enough to be alone with myself. To understand that being alone does not have to be lonely and that there is freedom in my choice to discover myself. This is going to be hard. I will have to push myself out of my negative mindset every day. But if I don't do this, if I don't find my way out of the darkness, what else is there really?

I am currently reading, "Women, Food and God" and I will reread as many times as it takes. I will also continue to watch the short "How to Be Alone" and continue to push myself through the suggestions of alone activities. I have also began watching daily blogs from "ProjectLifeSize" on Youtube. Those ladies are incredible motivation and examples of strength and honest courage. This process will take me the rest of my life. But my hope is that it will give me my life back.

You are what you love, not what loves you.

Well yesterday, I did it. I ended our relationship. I never thought it would really happen, and yet the entire time knew it had to. I love him, that's the hardest part. Why is it possible to love someone that much, but that love doesn't translate into something long lasting. I know I could blame it all on Florida, but he's right that it wouldn't have worked in the long run. I've never felt so comfortable with someone, and I feel like I've found my best friend. I'm going to long for his arms, and I hate that. I hate that I'm crying as I write this, despite how strong I told myself I would be. I know it's right, but it doesn't feel good. I am proud of myself for being able to do it, I didn't think I could.

I took that photo just after the words were said. He was sitting at my computer, and my mind was racing. The rain suddenly started, and I had this horrible need to freeze how I felt. And that was it. I looked out my kitchen window, and saw how the street light reflected in the pavement. And I realized, that this rain was how I was feeling, and the light was so beautiful. The thought of letting go of something/someone I love so much, but thinking about finding someone/something that I could love even more than this, gave me hope.

You think there really will be someone that loves you, so completely? That you will find something you are entirely passionate about. I keep waiting for what I hope will be the start of my life and I'm growing impatient. He's out there, and that gives me a small gleem of hope. I'm handling this well, I think.

So it has begun...

So, I have begun a blog. You're shocked, as am I. I say you, as if I think someone will actually read this silly thing, but in the likelihood that it actually does get read, here it all is.

I have spent many years journaling and sketching down random thoughts from time to time, and doodling or taking photographs of things I wanted to remember. I find that it is difficult for me to bring out the pen and paper the last few months (this is probably only a sign of my increasing laziness) but none the less, I will write what I know, or what I think I know, here for myself, and for those that want to listen.

I am actually rather shocked at how intimidating I'm finding this whole process. Hm...I find myself clever, but I've got nothing of importance to say. Oh, here's something...I promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I know that we all have stories about things that we think matter, but maybe they only matter to us. I hope that this will at least matter to one other person. I'm under the belief that most people will not be reading this, and it will be that belief that allows me to be completely honest. I promise, all honesty.

Today was such a trying and nail biting day for me, and in the end, I don't feel accomplished, or like it was at all worth the frustration. I woke up feeling unattractive, not that I ever wake up and feel attractive per say, but it was definitely one of those, "You aren't cute enough to be here" days. And it just spiraled down from there. Why do I have to be so insecure about everything all the time. I found that just standing in the doctors office waiting for the nurse to bring me the copy of my PPD results, I was fidgeting and hoping that I didn't look too fat, even though NO ONE was around. I hate this about myself. If I never left the house, I probably wouldn't dislike the way I look so much. It's that damn comparison shit that really fucks with my head. I feel bad that I just swore, but I said honesty, and I honestly was swearing in my head, so there it is.

Do you think that people stare at you and wonder who you really are? Because I honestly stare at everyone and try to imagine a time in their life where I thought they were as close to perfect as they were ever going to get, and I sometimes hope that people put that much energy into looking at me.

I'm rambeling and none of it matters. I enjoy this keypad though. Thank you iMac for being the best peace (spelled that way on purpose) of technology I've ever owned. I'm going to finish distracting myself, before heading to bed, for what will undoubtedly be a horrible day at work.

Hopefully this project will be fufilling! YAY for me starting something new <3