Ok... so I'm going to do my year in review, then maybe over the weekend write up shit about my trip.
My brother gave me an ipad (about time. After mocking those shits for who knows how many years, someone gave me an ipad so I could shut the fuck up with my trash talk), and I actually busted that out whenever I had an idea pop into my head... my mind was pretty busy, and not with depressive shit for once.
I thought hard about what I should call this year. What word could I use to best describe what this year was all about for me?
I had a little bit of everything this year: serious depression episode, pretty euphoric moments, chill times to myself in someone's else's house, new friends, loss of old friends, getting closer to some people, completely disappearing from the lives of others.
I had moments of EXTREME rage, extreme disappointment, some loneliness... just a hodgepodge of everything there is to feel out there... well, everything except that one thing that is always, and probably will always be, absent from my life: romanticism, love, partnership, whatever the fuck you want to call that. THAT. I spent another year with that subject completely absent from my life... like... NOTHING. NADA. Like freakishly "how the fuck is that possible" levels of "NOPE." And I'm ok with that. Can't miss something I've never had... so... it's aiight.
The fact that I started off 2015 with the worst case of depression I've ever experienced has done this really fucked up thing to me where my memory has been severely affected. I have difficulty remembering a lot of what happened in a large chunk of my life. I can't recall much from January to about ends of April. May is where my memory picks back up. It's weird... and upsetting to know I'll always have these strange voids in my memory... I lived but not really, because everything is blank. I can't explain beyond that. Back when I was younger, like... first-years-of-college "younger," I thought people were full of shit when they'd tell me they couldn't remember something that happened only a few months ago.
How the fuck can you forget something so recent, when I can go back to being an upset two year old sitting in her crib, soaked in piss? I call bullshit!
But no, you really can forget. The only day I can remember clearly is my birthday, because I was so pissed over being forced out of the house to "celebrate"... I remember what I wore because I was so frustrated over having to choose an outfit that didn't make me feel like I called any attention. I also remember that one baby shower in February, only because I doodled that horse for that baby book. Aside from those two events, everything at the start of the year is a huge blank.
It's evident, that this year was... weird, and off, just by looking at this blog. Sit there and compare the number of entries and it only gets beat by 2009 in LEAST amount of entries, and that's only because 2009 was THE SHITTIEST FUCKING YEAR EVER.
2015 I was plagued by injuries and ill health. There was a couple of months where I was scared of possible breast cancer... because even getting hit by water in the shower hurt my tits.
AND STILL I wouldn't go to the doctor. Because I'm an imbecile. And because I thought "Well, fuck it, if I fucking die, I die. I've pretty much been begging for it for a quarter of a century. FUCK. IT."
Turns out my tits were just GROWING.
I was almost down to a C a few years ago, now I'm back to busting out of a DD. Seriously. Fucking drag of a time.
I don't understand what the fuck is up with my body, it has a knack for growing past "normal" ages ranges. I'm almost 5'9" and a half now... which is RANDOM AS FUCK. I've grown AN INCH in two years. I'm motherfucking Benjamin Button. I don't know. I'm probably just fucking dying and my hormones are going batshit trying to warn me.
Speaking of wack hormones, this year I didn't work out as much as in previous years. My depression affected me there as well-- it made me sluggish. But... not lazy sluggish, but legitimate sluggish... where my hormones were the only ones to blame, because despite how hard I'd push myself to workout, I'd be rendered exhausted within minutes. Something that would have been a cake walk for me last year, was proving to be the most exhausting, tiresome, cumbersome piece of shit ever.
And my fucking left foot... that motherfucker. It was injured up until TWO WEEKS AGO. If it wasn't my "healed" fractured metatarsals, it was my fucking left knee. I was the most depressing, limping mess imaginable.
I can honestly say I'm FINALLY pain-free... over a year later.
I did travel a lot.
Ha. Boy. Christ. AH. Man. FUCK. Ugh.
There was good and bad to that.
"Good" because I received the knowledge I aways seek when traveling.
"Bad" because sometimes the lessons learned SUCKED. They hurt to learn. They FUCKED ME UP.
I met some rad people in my travels. I ate like fucking royalty.
I learned some of my friendships were BULLSHIT. I also starved a couple of times because I'd simply forget to eat due to all the information my brain was receiving.
It was all a stalemate.
I flirted with boys this year-- but they were all strangers in foreign lands. The flirting was just... just me smiling at a compliment or hanging out for a few hours. I was that random little butterfly that flutters into sight, twirls for a second, then disappears into oblivion.
I also felt incredibly excluded and downright snubbed by dudes. Feeling snubbed certainly sucks... it sucks more than I'd like to admit. It reminds me to KNOW MY ROLE. What's my role? Be an OBSERVER. At one point, I was physically moved out of the way by a dude so his group of dudes could check out the other chicks in my group... that made me cry on my way home. That felt pretty fucking bad.
At one point, I remember I did have a back-and-forth with... the dude I always talk about... and for a moment, I thought we were going back to the good ol' college days, to the days of the infancy of the crush... but then he pulled the fluttering butterfly stunt, and just randomly dropped communication. No clue what I did or said... just that too familiar feeling the Universe has tried getting me accustomed to, that feeling where you feel as though you have something, only to have it violently and randomly torn away, zero explanation. Left too shellshocked to react. Just stand there, at a loss for words, wondering if what had just happened was all a dream... or... that fucking fluttering butterfly thing.
I don't know what to call this year, I don't know a single word for it.
I know I had good times-- good, happy, incredible times.
I also know I cried a lot. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt tired. I was done.
Things were so dark and dreary... and cold... with moments of clarity, warmth, and beauty.
I turned 30... and I gave up.
It's... that hopeful, optimistic little Me got lost in the dreariest forest... a dark, terrifying forrest... never to be found again. Walking alone, scared, often getting injured... with the occasional fluttering butterfly coming into view to distract her from her confusion... this tiny little reminder of how beautiful life can be, only to have a sharp branch scratch the shit out of her face, or a well-hidden root trip her up... reminding her of where she really is.
2015 was neither good nor bad. It was a stalemate.
My highs were very high... but my lows were the lowest.
I don't know what to expect out of 2016, and I don't know what I could ask of 2016.
A girl gets tired of wishing and hoping and trying.
Maybe hope for less "It gets better" talks from others... because you need not come at me with that shit. Not at this age. No.
It gets better for some-- not all.
I'll just be out here, watching it all happen. I always have been.
(well... that got dark real quick)
My brother gave me an ipad (about time. After mocking those shits for who knows how many years, someone gave me an ipad so I could shut the fuck up with my trash talk), and I actually busted that out whenever I had an idea pop into my head... my mind was pretty busy, and not with depressive shit for once.
I thought hard about what I should call this year. What word could I use to best describe what this year was all about for me?
I had a little bit of everything this year: serious depression episode, pretty euphoric moments, chill times to myself in someone's else's house, new friends, loss of old friends, getting closer to some people, completely disappearing from the lives of others.
I had moments of EXTREME rage, extreme disappointment, some loneliness... just a hodgepodge of everything there is to feel out there... well, everything except that one thing that is always, and probably will always be, absent from my life: romanticism, love, partnership, whatever the fuck you want to call that. THAT. I spent another year with that subject completely absent from my life... like... NOTHING. NADA. Like freakishly "how the fuck is that possible" levels of "NOPE." And I'm ok with that. Can't miss something I've never had... so... it's aiight.
The fact that I started off 2015 with the worst case of depression I've ever experienced has done this really fucked up thing to me where my memory has been severely affected. I have difficulty remembering a lot of what happened in a large chunk of my life. I can't recall much from January to about ends of April. May is where my memory picks back up. It's weird... and upsetting to know I'll always have these strange voids in my memory... I lived but not really, because everything is blank. I can't explain beyond that. Back when I was younger, like... first-years-of-college "younger," I thought people were full of shit when they'd tell me they couldn't remember something that happened only a few months ago.
How the fuck can you forget something so recent, when I can go back to being an upset two year old sitting in her crib, soaked in piss? I call bullshit!
But no, you really can forget. The only day I can remember clearly is my birthday, because I was so pissed over being forced out of the house to "celebrate"... I remember what I wore because I was so frustrated over having to choose an outfit that didn't make me feel like I called any attention. I also remember that one baby shower in February, only because I doodled that horse for that baby book. Aside from those two events, everything at the start of the year is a huge blank.
It's evident, that this year was... weird, and off, just by looking at this blog. Sit there and compare the number of entries and it only gets beat by 2009 in LEAST amount of entries, and that's only because 2009 was THE SHITTIEST FUCKING YEAR EVER.
2015 I was plagued by injuries and ill health. There was a couple of months where I was scared of possible breast cancer... because even getting hit by water in the shower hurt my tits.
AND STILL I wouldn't go to the doctor. Because I'm an imbecile. And because I thought "Well, fuck it, if I fucking die, I die. I've pretty much been begging for it for a quarter of a century. FUCK. IT."
Turns out my tits were just GROWING.
I was almost down to a C a few years ago, now I'm back to busting out of a DD. Seriously. Fucking drag of a time.
I don't understand what the fuck is up with my body, it has a knack for growing past "normal" ages ranges. I'm almost 5'9" and a half now... which is RANDOM AS FUCK. I've grown AN INCH in two years. I'm motherfucking Benjamin Button. I don't know. I'm probably just fucking dying and my hormones are going batshit trying to warn me.
Speaking of wack hormones, this year I didn't work out as much as in previous years. My depression affected me there as well-- it made me sluggish. But... not lazy sluggish, but legitimate sluggish... where my hormones were the only ones to blame, because despite how hard I'd push myself to workout, I'd be rendered exhausted within minutes. Something that would have been a cake walk for me last year, was proving to be the most exhausting, tiresome, cumbersome piece of shit ever.
And my fucking left foot... that motherfucker. It was injured up until TWO WEEKS AGO. If it wasn't my "healed" fractured metatarsals, it was my fucking left knee. I was the most depressing, limping mess imaginable.
I can honestly say I'm FINALLY pain-free... over a year later.
I did travel a lot.
Ha. Boy. Christ. AH. Man. FUCK. Ugh.
There was good and bad to that.
"Good" because I received the knowledge I aways seek when traveling.
"Bad" because sometimes the lessons learned SUCKED. They hurt to learn. They FUCKED ME UP.
I met some rad people in my travels. I ate like fucking royalty.
I learned some of my friendships were BULLSHIT. I also starved a couple of times because I'd simply forget to eat due to all the information my brain was receiving.
It was all a stalemate.
I flirted with boys this year-- but they were all strangers in foreign lands. The flirting was just... just me smiling at a compliment or hanging out for a few hours. I was that random little butterfly that flutters into sight, twirls for a second, then disappears into oblivion.
I also felt incredibly excluded and downright snubbed by dudes. Feeling snubbed certainly sucks... it sucks more than I'd like to admit. It reminds me to KNOW MY ROLE. What's my role? Be an OBSERVER. At one point, I was physically moved out of the way by a dude so his group of dudes could check out the other chicks in my group... that made me cry on my way home. That felt pretty fucking bad.
At one point, I remember I did have a back-and-forth with... the dude I always talk about... and for a moment, I thought we were going back to the good ol' college days, to the days of the infancy of the crush... but then he pulled the fluttering butterfly stunt, and just randomly dropped communication. No clue what I did or said... just that too familiar feeling the Universe has tried getting me accustomed to, that feeling where you feel as though you have something, only to have it violently and randomly torn away, zero explanation. Left too shellshocked to react. Just stand there, at a loss for words, wondering if what had just happened was all a dream... or... that fucking fluttering butterfly thing.
I don't know what to call this year, I don't know a single word for it.
I know I had good times-- good, happy, incredible times.
I also know I cried a lot. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt tired. I was done.
Things were so dark and dreary... and cold... with moments of clarity, warmth, and beauty.
I turned 30... and I gave up.
It's... that hopeful, optimistic little Me got lost in the dreariest forest... a dark, terrifying forrest... never to be found again. Walking alone, scared, often getting injured... with the occasional fluttering butterfly coming into view to distract her from her confusion... this tiny little reminder of how beautiful life can be, only to have a sharp branch scratch the shit out of her face, or a well-hidden root trip her up... reminding her of where she really is.
2015 was neither good nor bad. It was a stalemate.
My highs were very high... but my lows were the lowest.
I don't know what to expect out of 2016, and I don't know what I could ask of 2016.
A girl gets tired of wishing and hoping and trying.
Maybe hope for less "It gets better" talks from others... because you need not come at me with that shit. Not at this age. No.
It gets better for some-- not all.
I'll just be out here, watching it all happen. I always have been.
(well... that got dark real quick)
