stuck in the middle

The other day I was cleaning my perpetually messy bedroom, when I found my tiny tower of history stacked lonely in a dark corner, collecting dust. My precious notebooks. They date back to 2003, and I have dozens in different shapes, sizes, colors, materials. Each is filled with messy, tangled masses of beautiful words, thoughts, images. They exude a certain confidence that I didn't know at the time that I possessed. Reading them again I was shocked,  moved and naturally a little embarrassed (revisiting your mind at 15 is always a painful experience). I could write. I was confident that I could write. I knew my thoughts, they had patterns.  I seemed to know these patterns like maps. I was constantly inspired & moved by things, even the darkest aspects of life.

At the top of this pile, there are five notebooks. Each one is blank. Underneath this quintet of empty vessels, there is a diary that I began in 2010 and ended around this time last year. And it might as well have been written last week. My thoughts are the same - indecisive, apathetic, angry. I haven't changed a bit. My train of thought is identical. I was talking about doing things that I still haven't done yet. And still talk about doing. I don't mean big dreams like visiting Hawaii in the summertime. I mean simple achievable things like "I want to reorganize my closet and find a better job and take up cooking".

My whole life, I've been giving up on things. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've given up on everything I've ever tried. Either that, or just talktalktalked about doing something and never tried it at all. Exhibit A - notice the infrequency of my blogging, compared to the fair level of consistency it once had. I don't know why I do it, really. I adopt things for a few weeks, sometimes months, and then just slump back into being a ghost. This applies to both activities and hobbies. I bought running shoes swearing to myself that I would start jogging. I said I was going to learn Swedish. I've finished one painting in the last two years. I never study. I never write, the exception being the only two thoughts I've had for the last three years apparently: "I WANT TO BE A NURSE AND MY BRAIN IS EMPTY". The fact that I still have a job & have great marks in school absolutely astounds me. I get tired of listening to myself saying things like "I had this great idea!" or "I want to..." because I know its bullshit.

For years I've been trying to figure out what my problem is. Its been suggested that I just don't care. In remembering that in my youth I used to care about things far too much, this almost makes sense in a way - a sort of defense mechanism against disappointment, perhaps? I feel like I care a great deal about a lot of things, but maybe I'm just lying to myself. At the same time though, is it really possible to care about nothing? Or have I just changed into someone I don't want to be and I can't accept that?

I long for confidence. I long for the drive to do things, to feel satisfied about doing them. I long to stick to things when I make up my mind to do them. I long for the ability to make decisions, to argue, to know that I'm making the right decision. I long to be present, to be somebody, to be remembered. I honestly feel like a ghost and I can't live with it. But how do I fulfill these longings?

Is this just part of growing up, or is something wrong with me?

XO

its always better when we're together

Its a hard time in life. Dave has taken to calling me Eeyore, because all week I've been making suggestions to myself that are either peppy or practical or what have you, then following them by a very unenthusiastic "but what's the goddamn point". Yesterday sort of showed me that there is in fact a point. 

I was in a sad little mood, and my lovely Sarah and I went down to a duck pond with ice cream and chicken fingers. We talked about life over a million cigarettes, while the sky painted pictures with clouds for us and old people held hands. We watched a true display of friendship when a guy fearlessly jumped into the scuzzy pond to rescue his friend's dog. We got crafty together on a park bench, and eventually our sighs of anguish and frustration turned into silly smiles and laughter. Afterwards we went to bulk barn and I giggled at my boyfriend's enthusiasm for peanut butter and lentils. Later that night, I got to hug a friend I haven't seen in months and tell her stories, surprised that my life hasn't stopped completely and I actually have stories to tell. I have a life. Stuff happens in it. Some of those things are wonderful. 

My point here being that I have been reminded of my own personal mantra - that life is a cycle, and where there is good bad will follow, and where there is bad good will follow. Its been one of the hardest summers of my life, I've lost so many beautiful things. I've been stressed. I've been poor. I've questioned and cursed and been furious. But where there is darkness, there is light. I'm just grateful for the people I really care about now and all the things that make me happy. Life will get become incredible again in little baby steps, as it always does. Its already happening. And even despite the badness, I can still honestly say that I am happy, and that I am grateful.

So, in keeping with this trend of happiness, I'd like to make a list of the things that are making me happiest now, and are more or less sustaining my life force. Here goes!

1. Memories.
2. Big, green leaves catching the sunlight everytime I walk out my front door.
3. Good cups of tea, like earl gray and the lemongrass matte I bought yesterday! Its heaven for my aching throat.
4. GIANT BAG OF MINESTRONE. Also from my Bulk Barn adventure. I love soup, and minestrone is my favorite, so I am a happy girl at present.
5. Battlestar Galactica times with Allan. I'm a sucker for a good sci-fi series, and as we're drawing to the show's end my breath is taken away more and more by the utter brilliance of the writers, the actors, the composers. Its incredible in every way.
6. Writing. I've been writing lots of poetry lately, and it is making certain parts of my heart feel at peace with other parts.
7. My beautiful friends, who are always there for me no matter what.
8. My job, which may sound funny, but its so nice to be making money again and have a place where I can shut off my brain completely! Its a blessing sometimes.
9. I am warm all the time.
10. Listening to '90s music.
11. Reading Kurt Vonnegut novels.
12. Clean, wonderful smelling laundry.
13. Fruit.
14. Dreaming about the future.
15. Painting and drawing again.
16. My boyfriend's silly dances.

Not anything particularly extraordinary, but its the little things, you know?


XO

are you nobody, too?

I've never lived in the present at all before the last few years of my life. Before that I was always dwelling on the past, or some imaginary world I created for myself (what can I say, I was incredibly lonely until high school). Since I've grown up I've found myself incredibly grounded in the present, and in reality for the first time. Its given me many things I never knew I could possess, like self-confidence, strength, happiness and a real sense of purpose in life - but I feel like it took away a lot of things from me that I still miss. 

 I used to write. I used to write a lot. I have notebooks sitting around from high school that are filled with 15 page rants written in a single sitting while chainsmoking and sipping green tea. I can't do that anymore, and I wish I could.

Most people feel embarrassed by their past writing, and I am naturally extremely embarrassed by my very early poetry from the age of 12 to about 15 or so. But some of the pieces I wrote from the ages of 16 to 19 give me little chills and make me miss being able to think like that, let alone write like that. Its like as soon as I hit the age of 20 some sort of switch flipped inside my head and I became a different person. 

I guess I just miss that feeling of stuff mattering on such a deep level. I don't really feel that anymore about anything, I get bored so easily. When I was younger I used to have this special connection to my jewelry and clothes and felt like some objects were absolutely sacred. I don't feel that anymore. Things are just things, people are just people. Life is just life. Sigh. 

XO

strange history

Oh, friends! Oh! It is so very lovely to be back in this wonderful seaside city. Don't get me wrong, I adored being in Stephenville, and I had a little cry after my dad dropped me off at the airport (made worse because I was clutching my newly acquired Fozzie Bear stuffy, so I probably did look like a big baby), but being back here makes me feel really, really HOME. 

I had some brief and wonderful visits with good friends yesterday, and spent the evening snuggling and giggling with Dave, and had the best sleep of my life. I woke up bright and early, without a stuffy nose or puppies crawling on my face, so I feel very happy indeed. Now its coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich before I start my Russian History class! Excitement! 

Also, this evening I have a job interview with Marie's Mini Mart. The lady there sounds incredibly sweet and awesome, and I can't believe she actually waited until I got back from a 5 day vacation to interview me. I hope this means she'll give me a job! My fingers are crossed. Tomorrow, I'll be getting my jazz finished up for my Eastern College application, so I am hoping by Thursday morning that I'll more or less have the rest of my year figured out. Its a comforting change.

I have this strange and terrible habit of going back in time when I'm in Stephenville. Mine and Dave's anniversary is coming up in a few days (7 years, what the fuck), and I was thinking back on our relationship and found myself perusing Gmail for hours and reading the 100+ emails (which, by the way, isn't even an exaggeration) we sent each during our hopefully last 6-7 month breakup. And you know what? It wasn't even depressing. It didn't make me angry. It just filled me with gratitude and hope and reminded me of how intensely loved I am. Some of them were hilarious, others were like tender lovesick poems. We are the strangest people. I feel very lucky, though.

Now, I am off to shower, friends! I wish you all a good day, and I hope I see all of you soon. And also, now that I am bathing suit equipped I'd really love a pool date soon if anybody would love it. Let me know!

XO

Crash Years

I'll never break myself of the habit of naming my blog posts after songs. Its usually the first one that occurs to me, typically, something thats been resonating in my head throughout the course of a day, a week. This is probably my 6th blog, and will probably go the same way as the rest of them. I am a lazy creature, something I will never be able to break myself of. But here goes.

I'm not entirely sure what this blog will become. I've wanted to start a poetry blog for years, but now I can't write: I haven't written anything in almost a year, and if I manage to squeeze out a few words they're just acidic and sour. I don't like the things that come out of my head anymore; I sort of keep them tucked away. I have a fear of revealing anything too personal now, for some reason. You'll learn about me. Whoever you are. I will try to post some of my older poetry here, or if I find words now that don't slip away I'll make a little net for them here.

Other things I do like: I love to learn. I love science. I will probably post some articles or interesting things I've found in my studies here. I don't know what to do with my life yet. I'm in my early 20s so thats no big surprise; I want to be a nurse or a biologist. I want to take care of living things, I want to learn everything about them from the inside out. 

I've wanted to be a psychiatric nurse for awhile, but that idea frightens me now, I'm as frightened by the things inside people's heads as I am annoyed by the things inside my own. Its impossible to completely know another human being; people usually lie, even if they don't know they're doing it. Its human nature. If and when the time comes I'll decide whether or not thats a road I want to go down.

Thats enough for a start I think.

XO