People always say, “I could be on her doorstep in a matter of hours. If I took this flight or that bus, I would be across the country and in her arms.” But miles aren’t what separates us. I’m moving out. You will be ten minutes away. It takes four roads and three songs. If I speed a little, I can leave at 11:54 and make it home by midnight. I know exactly where to find you. You are right next to me. We don’t have miles, we have distance. I can’t find a plane or a bus that will fix that.
Every word I’ve spoken this week has been a call for help. Maybe small, maybe masked, maybe disguised as something different, the fact remains the same, you weren’t there. You never were.
Look at us. What the fuck have we become? I screamed this at my friend the other night, right after she lost control at me. Looking back, it was probably something stupid, so, tell me, why can’t I build a bridge and get over it? The thoughts have been overwhelming and I don’t know where to turn anymore.
People always talk. Is there really any point in speaking anymore? No one hears me.
I don’t tell anyone anything. Not even those I surround myself with. The secrets are consuming me, choking me, dragging me deeper and deeper into the ground we bury our shit in.
But it’s your fault, really. Should have kept your legs closed. Should have kept your mouth shut. Should have put the bottle down.
There is no cure, no acceptance, no understanding, and no answer. Textbooks can only tell you so much, and unless you have lived it, it is near impossible to judge from the outside. It is suffering; self-inflicted; self-hatred bundled up with an enormous amount of emotional energy. That small explanation is just the tip of the iceberg in trying to explain.
And even then, this isn’t something I’ve lived through, this is your story.
What I do know, is how tiring it is trying to show people from the outside that you are suffering, almost as tiring as it is pretending you aren’t. At times the exhaustion is overwhelming, giving up and giving in are more attractive than the one thing you’re slowly learning; growing stronger. How can you explain that your mind is an enemy and a best friend to yourself? There is no rationality in the behavior, and no rationality in the mind.
There are too many questions, and not enough answers. If you don’t control the need, it will control you. You don’t know if the worlds spinning around you, or if it’s spinning inside your head.
Time slows down. Hours become seconds, and seconds become hours. Thoughts are consuming your mind, everything’s going too fast, it’s as if your body is stoned while your minds ticking a thousand miles an hour. The one thing that’s killing you, is the thing that’s keeping you alive. Just like chemo.
“I need some time to find myself, be myself. But I can’t allow myself to be by myself.”
There are three kind of secrets:
1. Something that you hide at the bottom of your heart because you don’t want it to be mentioned.
2. Something that you can’t say, even if you want to; and
3. Something that you hope someone asks about even though you’re hiding.
Autumn is here. But the leaves aren’t falling. They’re landing. Maybe that’s how we should all approach love.
Don’t be afraid of falling. Jump. With every intent to land straight on your feet.
I’ve been busy lately. Working hard and partying harder.
I’m back to working four jobs again.
In less than a week I’m becoming an aunt!
I updated my bucket list tonight. This year already I’ve crossed off another four. (13, 26, 104, 178)
A while ago, I mentioned a plan I conquered for myself, for the next few years.
It goes something along the lines of this:
September-January: South America/Antarctica
Start University? Move to Europe? Backpack around Australia?
Of course there’s no guarantee on anything. But still, I live each day like it’s my last. Cause one day it will be.
I need to grow up and stop weaving sad spider webs of feeling over the internet about all the things I couldn’t say.
And I’m not neccesarily talking alcohol here.