I told myself I would figure out this happiness thing. Honestly I don’t have the slightest idea of what happiness is. Maybe it’s just being too distracted to think about negative things. I feel like when people say they are happy it’s one of two things. First, that they are lying. The second is that found something to keep them content for certain amount of time. True happiness? Kind of sounds like a scam to me. I like the highs and the lows. I mean it’s not a great thing but it keeps things interesting. The lows make the highs better and I always learn something from the lows. Anyhow, I started to paint. Nothing that I paint makes sense. It doesn’t look good but it means something to me. My mom tries to make me feel good and say how beautiful they are. One person likes them. So that’s something.
Sunday was one of those nights where you’re doing good then everything hits you at once. Questioning everything. What am I doing with my life? Is my major what I really want? Is going to Sweden worth my time? What the hell am I doing after April? The typical type of questions that I think of all the time. It was different this time though. It left me with a worried feeling. I should have things figured out but everyday I wake up and just lay there being completely clueless. Absolutely everything is progress. Or at least that’s what my wrist says.
You know that second that someone asks what you want or something along those lines? Your stomach starts to get tight. I can talk for a lifetime but ask me to explain something that involves my feelings and I’m at a loss. Then again I’m over here wanting to know what people want from me. Where I stand and all that. I’m surprised no one has tattooed hypocrite on my forehead yet.
One day I want to write something that means something to someone. I don’t know what. Maybe it will be a letter or something on a bathroom wall. It will have an impact on someone and that will be enough. No one has ever said that to me before.
I spent most of yesterday trying to figure out what happened. How I got to this point. In the end I realized it was a lot of things. I’m not going to be angry about this week though. I know the things that happened needed to happen. If they didn’t I wouldn’t have figured all of this out. It also lead me back to being friends with my best guy friend I’ve ever had and I’m stoked about that.
I always know that this is going to be a rough time. For years I think I have been using it as an excuse to just allow it to happen. Oh, it’s that time of year when I feel like this. It’s who I am. I can’t change it or overcome it. The thing is though I can. Somehow I expect others to deal with me. Just because the chemicals in my brain are off that somehow it allows how I am to be acceptable. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that depression is something to blow off. By all means it’s not but it’s not something that you can use to justify things. Sure it may explain why you’re a certain way but it doesn’t mean that its the reason I don’t do something. I can and I think maybe I have always known that but it’s always been simpler to take the easy way out. I am constantly so angry at myself because I know what I am capable of being. For the last ten years I’ve let one damn thing hold me back because I have always thought it was bigger than me. Around this time last year this guy told me that I was more than just my depression. I got angry and took it as him dismissing this thing that basically defined me. The thing is that he is absolutely right. While I wish I realized this a year ago I can’t go back in time and make myself. So now is when I move forward with my life. I know that it’s not going to be some cakewalk. It will always be apart of me and there will be days where it may get the best of me. I don’t have to let it define me anymore though. I won’t magically fall asleep tonight and wake up in the morning feeling pure happiness. It’s something I have to work at. I have to learn to be happy myself before I can make anyone else happy. Making other people happy and being enough is what I want most. So here’s to the beginning of it all.
This week has been an absolute rollercoaster of emotions. Right now is normally the time that my doctor ups my medication. I found out she’s not coming back though. In the last ten years I’ve gone through seventeen psychiatrist. Out of those seventeen I’ve only really like two of them. I have what everyone refers to as a ‘unique’ personality. My thought process never really makes sense and I can be kind of an asshole if you don’t understand my sarcasm. So finding a doctor that gets it isn’t a cake walk.
Last week in therapy I went over the whole me being nothing more than a burden to the people in my life. She is one of those people who know me better than most. Listening to my bullshit for ten years can do that. Anyhow, after she explained that when someone is like me and will bend over backwards for almost anyone. You generally are better at being their for others and you tend to view yourself as an inconvenience. I always thought that when someone said they cared about me it meant they would be there for me just like I would be for them. I have always been the drop everything and be there for you to the best of my abilities. If someone needs you, you call them and talk to them till they are okay. You do what it takes to make things better. Then there I was Tuesday sitting in a park by myself in the rain. That’s when it hit me. I can’t expect people to be there for me the way I am for them. People care in different ways and that’s just something I have to accept.
I have started about ten post since the new year. Each time I go to write some about memories of 2018 or goals for 2019. Turns out 2018 wasn’t all that significant. I couldn’t come up with a list of things I wanted to accomplish this year whenever I sat down to write it. At the time I didn’t realize how boring it all was. I had plans in the beginning of 2018. None of it played out how I planned though. I spent the year staying around in my house doing nothing. The good news of it all is that it made me realize that I need to be different this year.
I went to therapy for the first time in what seems like forever. Really it’s only been since March. I missed going. My therapist is honestly one of my favorite people. I’ve seen her for over ten years now. I got lucky. She was the first person I ever saw. I get this high after therapy. It’s like everything is released from me, it’s great. I spent most of my time asking questions instead of focusing on myself. I have always had a hard time explaining how I feel or the way I think. It’s good that I’ve seen her so long because if I said the things I do to anyone else they would worry.
They had all these notecards in the waiting room with quotes on them. I like one posted above. Some were foolish. Like how a caterpillar thinks it’s the end but they still go into a cocoon. How could people possibly know what a caterpillar thinks. One time when I had a new doctor they had the picture below in their office. I couldn’t see how it could possibly be an inspiring or meaningful. It seemed rather negative to me. I get it’s suppose to be the state of mind kind of thing. Blah blah blah but still if you’re in charge of deciding what medications will help the chemical imbalance in my brain you should probably have a little more uplifting posters. When I asked her to explain how it’s a positive message she seemed like she was upset with me. Needless to say I never saw her again.
As I have established growing up I was an ungrateful bitch. My family has always done their best to provide and give me everything I always wanted. It has taken me a long time just to realize all they do. I wish I was able to appreciate it at a younger age. While everyone in my family is great, my grandmother is hands down the best. Honestly, she’s my favorite person to ever exist and not just because she was the one who introduced me to my favorite cheese. She may be the one person that loved my dog as much as I did. Which is saying a lot because I loved Lucky more than anything in the world.
Most people will say that they are a good person. My grandma isn’t like that though. She knows she’s a good person but she never gives herself credit. I think that’s the one thing I find most frustrating about her. It’s not just the being a nice person. She has always been one to go above and beyond. Not just for family but for every person she knows. Life hasn’t always been easy for her. The thing is though she never took the easy way out. Each of her decisions has always been what is better for everyone not just what would be best for her. Working endlessly to provide for her family. Spending her days in high heels carrying around thirty pound trays of food. Raising three kids (I know that had to be a handful because I have my dads personality and look at how much work I am). To dealing with me at my worst. She’s one hell of a women.
I could name a billion different reasons on why I love her. The world only needs to know a few. She is one of the most accepting people I know. Her cooking is phenomenal. Anything I know about cooking is because of her. One time she was saying how the bus boys at her work took her to some rock concert, turns out she saw The Who. She has always been open with me. I have a never ending amount of questions about everything. I know I ask questions on topics that can be hard for her to talk about but she does anyway. She allows me to speak freely without judgement. While I know she doesn’t love every decision I make she has always supported me. We have our different opinions on how people should act sometimes (she was raised with the good ol’ southern manners), tattoos, and taking shots (she’s a bourbon on the rocks kinda gal).
I think a lot of who I am today is because of her. If I could been even a fourth of great as a person as she is I would consider myself ridiculously lucky. Obviously this post doesn’t do her any justice. Happy birthday, lovely lady.
By no means am I a writer. None of this is to advance some sort of journalism dream. I don’t write because I want to change the world. Honestly, my therapist has been telling me for years now that I need to do some type of journaling. So here we are. If you have taken the time to read anything I’ve written then two things. You know that nothing I say necessarily makes sense. Also, you’re a complete doll for taking the time to actually read what I have to say.
I am continuously at war with myself. Lately it seems like the worlds slowly burning around me. Ten year ago today I got on a plane to go to Florida for vacation. I guess you could say that was the start of my downfall. 3,650 days I can’t seem to decided if I’m just like the person I was back then or if I’m completely different.
Looking back I’m disappointed in myself. This was never who I wanted to be. I had plans. My emotions consuming more and more of me each year leaving me where I am right now. My life was suppose to be together by now. Have a steady job, college degree. At least have some of my shit together. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be the person that I need myself to be.
These last few days have been a blur. I’ve managed to go through a million and three emotions. Existing becomes so much work. I become empty. I lose desire for the things I love. My bed is the only place that I want to be. Granted I think too much. I know that.
I think I expected people to be there for me because I try and do my best to be there for them. In reality it doesn’t work that way. People live their own lives. Just because I need something doesn’t mean the world is going to stop and they will be there for me. I am actually a huge burden.
I’ve come to realize that when I’m at a low I think all I really want is for someone who is important to me to believe in me. Not that I can do anything or save the world. Just that the feeling will end, they care and life will continue on. Telling yourself those kind of things doesn’t have the same impact.
This is me being dramatic, I guess. I suck and hold on to the past. It’s not healthy. It’s the one thing that can’t change though. The future is a complete guessing game. It scares the hell out of me. Committing to the unknown and not knowing what to expect. Terrifying.
Here is the part where I tell you that this year is going to be different. New year means new me. I’ll change my ways and be the best I can be. I’ll be honest though. I know myself well enough to know that’s not the case with me. I’ve never been one for New Years resolutions. If I want something to change then I can do it any of the 364 days of the year. Granted the idea of changing is much easier said then done. I constantly put it off. I expect things just to change without putting in the work to do so. I guess the one thing that I really want this year is to become the person that the people in my life deserve.
I constantly feel like I’m giving my all to people. Being there for them when they need someone or even when they don’t. Yet when I need someone those people aren’t around.
Growing up the one character that I related to most was Peyton Sawyer. Not just because we had some of the same shirts but from the music, hopes, dreams and emotions, all that jazz. Plus I was a sucker for the car she drove. She made sense to me. I was always envious that she was able to express herself through art. You should know that a stick figure and sun in the corner is about as good as it gets when it comes to my ability to draw. The way she carried herself and got through things was how I wanted to be when I was older. Things were always messy with her but she got her happy ending. No one sticks around forever. Sometimes people fall back into your life others just make an appearance but no one is ever a constant. Driving around with no destination in mind while listening to songs you love always seems to be the answer. A good song has the capability of changing your day. The only person you can really count on is yourself.
If I had a way with words and knew how to explain my feelings it would be something like the following quotes of hers.
“I want to believe in it all again. Music and art, fate and love, and I want to believe that I’ve made the right choices, and I’m still on the right path, and theres still time to fix some of the mistakes I’ve made. I guess I want hope.”
“I think everybody deserves a shot. If you really want something bad enough, no one has the right to stand in your way.”
“My life is pretty good. It really is but I’m searching for something to make it great. Something to make it matter.”
Eight days into blogmas and I figured I should take a minute and make a post on what has been on my mind recently. My head is foggy and I’m wild with frustration. At myself, the person I have been for the last ten years and the person that I am becoming.
There aren’t a lot of things that I really want in life. I can’t necessarily say that I’m happy. At this moment I can’t say that I am sad though either. I’m somewhere floating in the middle just making it through one day, into the next. I don’t mind it being that way. Would I like it to change? Yeah, sure. I’m not worrying if it doesn’t though.
I just took an hour break because I lost my train of thought (is that the phrase?) and I’m watching a show and this lady said something about how she didn’t mind being alone but she didn’t want to be insignificant and holy moly me oh my did that hit the nail on the head. Well I don’t want to be alone. Stupid people (actually really great people) had to walk into my life once upon a time and make me feel things. That’s not the point. Right now I’m insignificant. Why am I not one of those people who just goes for it. Gets on a plane, takes the adventure, follow the silly ideas inside my head. Theres a fire inside me that is dying because I suck and don’t do the things I want to do.
I try so hard to be enough. Not for myself but for everyone else. That’s the kind of person I am. I need others approvals. Not always. I have always wanted people to be proud of me. So I try hard and it’s gotten me nowhere. Sitting in bed at on a Saturday night. Pounding away at the keyboard. Putting letters into words that most likely won’t make sense to anyone who reads it. Do people even read this?
The worst is when you meet someone and theres just something about them. You can’t put your finger on it but you know it’s there. They make you feel like you are invincible. They think that your weird ideas are worth pursuing. You could be worthless but you’re not worthless to them. I don’t have that anymore and it drives me crazy. I’m the only one to blame for this happening. I have my chances. I get scared and push people away. How frickin’ typical is that (working on not swearing as much.) Trying to be my friend is no easy task. Nor is staying around when I get difficult. People get this idea of me. That somehow I’m something wonderful. In the beginning it’s always the same. ‘Harper I want to get to know you. You’re the bees knees.’ (Not the exact phrasing they use but it’s cooler than saying you fascinate me or you’re interesting.) Give it three months. I seem like something awesome. Then I start to rely on people and that’s when it all goes down hill. I get clingy. I end up getting so use to talking to someone all the time when it changes I don’t know what I’m suppose to do. Letting go has never been one of my strong suits. I talked about this with Ryan not so long ago. (It’s kind of funny because we faded away too) How becoming dependent on someone only screws you over in the end. So, sorry to disappoint all those people who have talked to me and think that I’m one of those people who are all chill and don’t give a shit. I do. I don’t get how you can care about someone for so long then it’s like you never knew each other. Oh, I’ve had such lovely people in my life over the last ten years. Sure, I shouldn’t have switched high schools or taken online classes. One of my biggest regrets. I think about it daily.
Anyhow, ‘If you could have any super power what would it be?’ People ask that question all the time. We go with something like being invisible, ability to fly, or something along those lines. I know exactly what I want my super power to be though. I want the power to take everyones pain away. If I could I would suck up everyones pain and suffer miserably if it meant the world didn’t have to feel it. Maybe that’s a little dramatic. That would be my super power though.
Okay. I need to go back and knit this blanket I’m working on. I have to restart it all because of three mistakes. I could have left them but it would have lost sleep over it.
I should know better by now than to do things like this. I set myself up for it every time. Some part of me knows that the feeling that I’m left with will slowly eat away at me until I find something to start the process over again. Sometimes there a gap of days in-between where my mind is clear. Still, it’s a never ending cycle. It starts in the pit of my stomach and works its way up towards my heart. Which is left racing leaving an aching feeling after. It’s the small things that get to me. Finding out something someone said. Reading something that I know I shouldn’t. Talking to people who are only going to hurt me. I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. My curiosity always gets the best of me.