The memories are
strong, and my heart is so weak.
Say you love me, please?
The memories are
strong, and my heart is so weak.
Say you love me, please?
I am strong, beautiful, and worthy. I am independent, confident, and whole. There is no one who can take these things away from me because they are so ingrained into who I am.
I wasn’t always this way, but that’s okay. It takes time to grow into yourself. Then it takes more time to grow into your next self. I relish in this process. It’s painful sometimes, but it’s necessary. If you reject these changes, you remain stagnant. And if you ask me, that’s unacceptable.
I change from the old me to the new me when I have to, but I always try to settle into the current version as fully as possible. It’s important; I am who I am in this moment for a reason. I have things to learn, people to effect. And I never know when the next change is coming, so I always make the most of these seasons. Or I try to, at least.
I don’t want to be a liquid. I want to be solid.
I refuse to fill the role available. I will make my own role, and you will make the space for me to fit.
I make a terrific sidechick. I’m good at keeping secrets, I can be hella fake when I want to be. I’m good in bed, and the perfect bad, yet sweet girl alternative to your girlfriend, who you will probably end up marrying.
I also make a fantastic girlfriend. I’m loyal, loving, supportive. I will grow with you, or I will let you grow on your own while I do the same right next to you. I’m good with parents, and siblings, and friends. I can cook, and I don’t mind being the big spoon sometimes, even though I’m only 5’2″.
I guess I’m whatever you need me to be.
Like a liquid, I fill the space available.
It’s five in the morning and I’m standing in front of my bathroom sink, staring at it. It’s mocking me. Each bristle on that stupid plastic wand is mocking me. Why didnt he take it with him when he left me?
In response to the Daily Prompt 8/1
I feel weird. I want to be more specific, but I am at a loss.
I feel…on edge. Like, in a precarious place, perhaps… no, not the edge of a cliff. It’s more like… I’m trapped in a car stuck on train tracks. I don’t know when the train is coming, but I have to get out of here.
Okay, so description done, but why the hell do I feel this way? What is this a metaphor for?
My little cousin had her sweet 16 this past Saturday. It was a really nice party, and she looked beautiful. My mom made all the decorations by hand, and they came out stunningly. Everything was great until the very end, when dramatic events occurred. It could’ve been an episode in some novela.
I don’t know that everyone has reconciled yet–no one has updated me on anything. Maybe that’s why I’m on edge.
Or maybe it’s because I’m going a whole month without seeing Barlow since she’s on vacation. It’s easier staying on the outside of the depression bubble when I know I’ve got a therapy session every 14 days. It’s just two weeks–sometimes it’s difficult, but I always manage. Now, though, I’ve gotta wait 30 days. Thirty.
I have to deal with everything that happens in my life by myself until August 16th.
I’m sure I’ll be fine. I just… I know that I’ll need backup at some point, and there is currently no one to fill that role.
My singleness hasn’t really bothered me as much as it has in the past, but it is a bit difficult when I think about this time last year. Beau and I had just started dating, and it was like I was seeing the world more vividly. I was so happy, and excited about life.
Now, it feels like all the excitement lies in my future. Now, it feels like all I have is the work I must do to achieve my goals. And sure, I have fun, I go out with my friends, and those relationships are good ones, but… it’s not the same. There is an undeniable void.
I’m pretty good at ignoring it, though. So, I think that’s what I’ll continue to do while I do what I gotta do. That’s all I can do, right?
But also this:
Recently, I’ve been struggling to remain happy. It’s normal for moods to fluctuate, of course, but mine have hovered on the darker side of the spectrum for a while now. I’ve been stressed, anxious, discontent, and confused about myself and my life.
After some reflection last week, I realized my problem:
I’m not living in the present.
Sure, it’s a bit cliché–or at least it’s such a common trap to fall into that it seems I should have known better. But alas, I am guilty. I worry so much about the future.
Question after question, worry after worry. Not only is that unhealthy, but it’s exhausting as well. So, once I made my revelation, I decided to chill the hell out.
My life? Is freaking awesome. I’m employed, I live comfortably, my friends are cool and funny, my family loves me, I’m healthy, I have a car, my writing class starts soon, I’m pursuing my dream of writing a book, my faith grows more and more every day. When I make the conscious decision to focus on the now, I am instantly in a better mood.
However, I’m aware that just deciding to do something doesn’t mean it’ll work, so I asked Barlow for help. She gave me a great idea! Set a time limit on how far in the future I’m allowed think. Furthermore, adjust this limit based on the emotion I’m feeling at the time. For example: if I’m going to worry about the future, I limit myself to 1 week. I don’t allow myself to worry about never getting my license, only about keeping to my study schedule for the next seven days.
So far, it’s been helping quite a bit. I nip unhelpful thoughts about what’s to come in the bud, and I do something small to distract myself (like hum a song) until the urge goes away. It’s not super scientific, but it works for me. 🙂
Life is good, and I’m living it the best way I know how. I will continue to do that until I learn a better way, and that cycle will never end.
As basic a piece of advice “live in the present” is, I think everyone needs a little reminder sometimes. So, take a minute or two and really appreciate yourself for exactly who you are, and appreciate your life for all that it is–the good and the bad–exactly as it is.
Until next time!
I didn’t go to church yesterday. Bible study is off for the month of July. I have been neglecting to read my bible everyday. Basically, I’m slacking on my Christian duties, and it’s because I haven’t felt very godly recently.
My decisions for the past month were not of Him, and while I know I have grace, I still didn’t feel worthy to come before the Lord. Despite my lapse in Christian behavior, a small, desperate part of me continued to pray.
I called out to the Lord multiple times over the last four weeks, “Lord, please close the doors you do not wish me to walk through, and may the ones you do swing wide open.” Now, I said these words, but the larger, selfish part of me hoped He wouldn’t listen. I wanted to do what I wanted!
Thankfully, my prayer was answered anyway this past weekend. Sure, it took one last bad decision to convince me the Lord has more in store for me. Plus a conversation with my best friend to realize I was selling myself short. But, I am capable of so much more than I have been doing, so why was I defying both my logic and values to do what feels good in the moment?
The honest answer is that I’m human. I’m weak, selfish, and confused. However, if I take the time to empty myself of toxic thoughts and worldly desires, I can be filled with the light of the Lord.
He loves me.
I break His heart a million times over, but he still loves me. Except for my mom, I know I will never find another love like His. And all I can do to repay Him is try to honor Him in all that I do, and love others as He loves me.
God closed a door this weekend–two, as a matter of fact. And while I’m not quite sure where the next open one is, I know it exists, and I’m excited to go through it. Prayer works, y’all. You just have to keep your eyes and heart open to receive the message the Lord is sending you.
Until next time,
I have a need to write. At any given moment, there are hundreds of words bouncing around my brain. Dozens of stories clamor to the front, begging to be told. So whenever I have a spare moment, or when my work gets too boring, I pull out a blank sheet of paper, pick a non-black pen, and write.
Sometimes what comes out weighs a ton. It’s as if I’ve been hoarding every emotion I’ve ever felt. The words tumble out of my pen, nothing strong enough to slow them down.
Sometimes what comes out is light and airy. The words flutter like butterflies, painting pictures as beautiful as their wings. The ideas seem simple at first, but upon closer examination, the intricacies reveal themselves. If you know me well and you read one of these, you’ll be able to understand what it is I’m really saying.
Occasionally I’ll write a poem, and other times it’s a straightforward life update. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to be writing. I love that feeling I get when I craft a particularly good sentence. I live for turning my feelings into black and white pictures. I get a jolt of pleasure whenever I start a new journal. Writing is my favorite thing to do–I want to get better at it.
And so, for these reasons and countless more, I’ve decided I’m going to write a book. It might be a memoir (I just registered for a memoir writing class), maybe a collection of essays, or short stories. Whatever it turns out to be, I know I’ll love creating it. Writing is the only thing for which my love has never wavered.
I’m excited to fall even more in love with it. Wish me luck!
P.S. This is a fitting 100th post, wouldn’t ya say? 😀
Words have been pushing
against the inside of my lips,
dying to dive from the depths
of my soul.
I can’t say them out loud,
so instead I let them flow
from my fingertips.
Here’s the thing: There are none.
Aside from taxes, and some work projects, there is pretty much no such thing as deadlines in adulthood.
I’ve been in the real world for a year now, and let me tell you something: I need deadlines. If I don’t have a hard deadline, nothing gets done.
And let me tell you something else: self-imposed deadlines do not (apparently) count.
Anxiety strangles me at the thought of letting my mom down, but if it’s only me I’m letting down? Psh. Who cares?! My goals don’t need to be accomplished anytime soon! I’m still young! I have the rest of my life ahead of me! Just have fun–no need to work towards anything specific. Just eat some hot cheetos and watch Gilmore Girls all the way through for the third time.
My brain tells me this daily, and it’s so unbelievably frustrating. It takes a lot of energy to overcome this thinking, too, and as a result (when I can overcome it) I can have no more than a maximum of three productive days in a row. I can’t remember ever succeeding in a fourth (unless I was under enough stress to light a fire under my ass).
Here’s what I’m thinking, though:
Originally, I told myself I would get my architecture license by 25. That’s in 6 months, and so not likely to happen
And this is where I get stuck.
Self-imposed deadlines don’t wok. Stressing myself out by scheduling all the tests is NOT the move because I would actually implode (and go broke). So what are my options?
If any of you have ideas, please do share? I figure if I’m brainstorming, and y’all brainstorm, too, we’re bound to come up with something, right? So please help if you can and are willing. Otherwise, saying a quick prayer for my focus (and sanity) would be much appreciated as well.
Until next time,