not forgotten

"You'll get over it." 

It's the clichés that cause the most trouble. To lose someone is to alter your life forever. You don't get over it, because 'it' is a person you cared about. The pain stops, there are new people, but the gap never closes.
How could it? The particularness of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not erased by anyone. 

This hole in my life is in the shape of you and no one else can fit. Why would I want them to?                                                              

                                                              

I want to talk to you, but I don't know what to say. I am afraid you don't want me to say anything. So I don't. But inside of me there are words waiting to come out. To tell you how I feel- like how much I miss you. And how I think I loved you despite my inability to express anything besides casual friendship.
And how I need you in my life.
But those words may be forever locked inside.


Sometimes I wonder if there are words locked inside you too.

Regression

If any of you've noticed, I haven't posted in a while.


Mostly that's because of school. It's been really weird getting into the swing of college jank. It's not like I'm even taking hard classes- I'm mostly in art courses because I don't need any more GenEd- but I just can't seem to stop procrastinating. I make everything so much harder for myself than it really has to be.

But even if I hadn't been so busy with projects, I probably wouldn't have posted these last few months. For some reason I can't stop feeling so darn apathetic about everything. People annoy me. School is just a distraction. I basically have no life at all and frankly it disturbs me how much this doesn't bother me.


I'm not really sure what's going on. Is this depression? Because I thought I was done with that. Last year was pretty awful and I worked through it and things were going fine. At least I thought so.

Now...I don't even know.

Don't get me wrong- I am happy sporadically. I see what few friends I've managed to keep every once in a while and I can laugh along and watch movies and have dinner at awesome restaurants and feel normal sometimes. It just doesn't seem to last. And I can't fix it.


It's like I'm literally incapable of being like everyone else.

Not that whole notion of "normal" people try to pretend actually exists; but just the ordinary, day-to-day interactions and obligations of any average functioning human are just impossible to me. I can't seem to act right in any sort of social situation. I don't stand up for myself enough. I'm just....not at all how I want to be, and I don't know what to do about it.

I wish I could move out, Get some semblance of "starting over". What little money I make at the job I hate with every fiber of my being goes right back into car insurance, food, art supplies, and other random essentials. I just feel stuck.

I live for escapism.

Overwhelmed

"There's a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
'Cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
These mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
Inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
And breathe, just breathe...."

Where were you?

Life is short.
Rule #32: Enjoy the Little Things.

introspection

I’ve experienced a lot in my eighteen years, but it seems that the one thing that most defines me is something that I myself had no control over. Something I wasn’t even aware of until about halfway through my life.

I was ten years old. I remember my parents coming home from the hospital, and we were waiting in the front room to hear the news. I remember looking out the window with my siblings and seeing my mom hug a neighbor she had never gotten along with. That’s when I knew what she was going to tell us. Regardless, I tried to be optimistic. I kept my three younger siblings’ spirits up- joking and playing with them until my parents came into the house to tell us that our brother was brain dead.

A few weeks later, I had to give a speech at my fifth grade graduation. My eyes were clouding up by the end of it and everyone assumed it was because of my brother. It wasn’t, I was just terrified of public speaking. It wasn’t even five minutes before I was eating goldfish crackers and laughing with the rest of my friends.

Those masks you see painted in drama rooms- the masks of comedy and tragedy- are just mirror images of one another.  I’m sure you’ve seen people laugh so hard they cry…well, it works the other way, too.

Grief comes out in strange ways. I’ve seen people laugh their way through a funeral and I can understand why. Sometimes you just become numb to feeling a certain way. Those emotions don’t disappear, they just get diverted.

Tears become laughter, and there’s not much you can do about it. But at least you’re feeling something. At least you don’t shut down completely. Eventually, we are all able to process and move on; but you can expect there to be bumps along the way.

I’m the type of person who will be fine with the death of a loved one a few days after it happens- I suck it up and move on. Yet, certain scenes in movies and TV shows make me well up.  It might not make sense, it might even be seen as insensitive, but that’s just how I am. I’m not going to overthink it; I just accept it as fact.

I’ve learned not to question these things.