One person cannot save the world. However, one person can become the world to another. And so, by taking the place of the cold and scary world and becoming a better kinder version for that person, the world can be saved slowly, one person at a time.
-adapted from Flower Boy Next Door, Korean TV show.
As I sat in bed this morning and listened to this quote, it shocked me to realize that once upon a time this was one of my greatest ideals that I was known for and which really defined my personality. Somewhere along the way I got so caught up in the dark sadness of the world that I forgot. Instead of thinking always of how to add a little brightness into the lives around me, I began to think only of my own loneliness and the never ending aching need to be held, loved, or accepted.
Moving back into my childhood home hasn’t been easy. There is a lot of darkness here that made me very happy to leave in the first place. But one very good thing about coming back is that I’m getting reacquainted with the 16 year old girl I used to be and remembering all the dreams she had for what her life would be like when she went out on her own. Turns out 16 year old me is very disappointed in how grown up me has been living my life so far.
So on my long list of things I need to do, “become ME again” just moved up to spot number one.
So I have had 4 separate people now tell me that Tiny Tina from Borderlands was based on me or that I am her in real life. The scariest part is that I am insanely flattered, when I’m pretty sure a sane person would start getting really worried and a little horrified about the image they’ve been giving off to people around them.
“He is so strong and warm and kind. How could I not have fallen for him? Asking me to give up on him is not a fair request. I cant do it. I’m sure I will continue to fall for him more and more from now on.”
-kamisama kiss anime
It is rare that another persons words so perfectly match my own feelings. At least these were my feelings up until I confronted him and asked him once and for all how he felt about me. His answer was…less than satisfactory, so that’s over now. And that’s all you need to know about that.
In more relevant news I finally got moved into my actual living space. Granted its a spider infested basement that’s half filled with boxes and has no doors, but its better than having a tiny corner in a storage room people keep walking in and out of whenever they please. And I can finally start getting semi-permanently comfortable and settled, which, being that I don’t have any of my stuff yet, so far consists of hanging two posters.
Other developments: my unemployment is coming in, its a major relief to have money to pay my own bills and not have to count on other people. I’m getting to spend time with my best friend and catching up in lost time with my father.
All in all I should probly be pretty relaxed and happy with no job, no responsibilities. But this town is so full of memories of rejection and powerlessness and disgust. Then there’s me no longer having a place of my own to recuperate from stresses, how bad I am at being single, and finding out that my ex is engaged on the 1 year anniversary of the last time he and I talked about our own wedding plans. Add all of that together and I’m just having a devil of a time keeping my zen together. I feel like I’m spending every second of the day teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown and using every ounce of my strength just to keep from tottering over the edge. It feels like somewhere between my soul and my skin is a layer of razor blades grinding against each other with every movement.
So I’m done. I’m finished with desperately trying to fight my current situation and recreate the happy bubble I had back in Texas. Desperately trying to find a new boyfriend to fill the empty void in my heart, moving out as soon as I’m financially able instead of staying with my parents and saving money, disrupting the lifestyle of my parents and changing things so I’ll feel at home while I’m here; none of these things are going to do me any good. Doing similar things in the past has just had me running in the same repetitive circle and dropping a little deeper into the pit of misery on each lap. It’s time to break free and try something different. So I have decided to surrender and just accept that the next year is going to be lonely and miserable, but that if I can just make it through one year quietly accepting my misery, it will make me a far happier and more complete person in the long run.
First step when my stuff arrives: set up a designated yoga and meditation space complete with positivity shrine. I have a feeling I’ll need it.
I will not text him. I will not text him. Even if it takes days or even weeks, I will not text him until he texts me. I will not text him until he clarifies if he meant it when he said he loved me or if it was a drunken mistake. I will not text him.
Amidst all these life changes I’m collecting things that comfort me. Just discovered a new one: plodding. Not sure why…maybe because I normally take light steps and stay on my toes so I can stay out of other peoples way…and that’s like a metaphor for how I spend way too much time worried about other peoples wants and needs and forget to take my own into account. So by slowing down and taking firm heavy steps, its like I’m taking a stand and letting the world know “from now on I come first”.
Since I have nothing better to do and I’m in a shitty mood, I’m making a list of things I fail at. We already discussed #1: Romance. Now for thing #2: Sleeping alone. When I have a designated special someone to lay next to, when I can contentedly watch their chest slowly rise and fall with breath and feel the heat emanating off them, I fall asleep within minutes of my head touching the pillow and sleep like a corpse all night. But when I’m alone, it doesn’t matter how tired I am, I lay wide awake until the wee hours of the morning, then toss and turn and wake up every hour. This, to me, is a sign of a profound glitch somewhere in my construction.
It would appear this insomnia won’t be going away any time soon either, due to the distinct lack of male talent in and around my hometown (not that I would be able to forget about Mr. Rockstar long enough to notice anyone else even if there was anyone worth noticing). And since me lying awake for hours in the middle of the night has historically led to me quickly spiralling down a psychological rabbit hole to emo-land, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize in advance for the buzzkill-tastic posts that will surely follow.
Random philosophical too-much-time-on-my-hands thought of the day: Is love supposed to always be such a pain in the ass? Or do I just suck at it? Anyone know if there’s a Remedial Love 101 class somewhere I can take? Or perhaps a surgery to trade my retarded defective heart for a better model?
My dad keeps saying I need to go back on my medication. It’s his only response every time I say something he doesn’t like or agree with. Its very insulting. I mean, its true that when I’m not on my medication, all my emotions are out of control and all of my responses are way stronger than they’re meant to be…but that doesn’t mean that my emotions are unfounded or that there isn’t a legitimate cause behind my responses.
Ugh. I thought it would be good for me to move back in with my dad for awhile. Thought “it’ll be great, I’ll save up some money and get back to my roots and just hit the reset button on all this shit that’s been making me miserable the last few months.” What a laugh. I feel like I’m 15 again. That was the worst time in my life…I was SOOO happy when I finally got away from it. Now I’m trapped here all over again and I’m going absolutely mental. Every second of every day I’m screaming inside. I feel so pitiful and I miss SAN ANTONIO of all fucking places. I was sad and directionless there. But I was happy. And strong. I miss it. I miss feeling like I belong.
People say absurd little pick me up lines like: there is no normal…everyone is an individual and odd in their own way.
Thats true i suppose…but only to an extent. The truth is there is a majority out there that all learned to speak the same silent language. They are all unique but there is something in their core that is the same that allows them to understand eachother.
Then there is the others…the ones that are truly odd down to the last inch of themselves. Im reminded of a story i read once where everyone had a birthmark, shaped like a puzzle piece, and somewhere in the world was a soulmate with a birthmark the same shape as theirs. Everyones was different, different number of sides, facing a different way. But they were all the same because they were all puzzle pieces…and they all knew without any doubt that they had a match somewhere. But then there was a select few with birthmarks shaped like stars and hearts and question marks. And these people were different…truly different…and alone.
Real life is the same way. And those of us who are TRULY unique…we spend so much time wanting nothing except to find someone who sees that difference and understands it. Who doesnt just give us the cookie cutter line “everyones different”. Someone to say “oh holy shit! You really ARE different arent you? How beautiful.” But then when we finally find someone who truly gets us…it terrifies us. We never really expected it to happen, and we are not prepared to be seen so clearly…so we run…or we destroy it. Perhaps weve grown so used to being alone…learned to like it because we had to or we’d have lost our sanity…solitude and exile have become our safety blanket and we dont know how to accept anything else.
Journey to the Good Place. 