Tuesday, March 1, 2011


I'm having a rough day.

Usually I make it a habit of not writing (or at at least not publishing) posts when I'm in a down-and-out mood because most of the time, I look back after doing so and realize it was a mood swing and I was being dramatic. But I figured it's been a while since I've written something that wasn't a list or recap or meme, so it might be good to get some things out of my brain.

There's nothing that made today particularly difficult. It's just my thoughts swirling around, the more negative ones making their way to the forefront. I can feel my mood turning because I'm sitting here, struggling to find something productive to do, feeling frustrated that my life isn't in a better place, and numbing it all by shoving another leftover cupcake in my mouth. I'm familiar with this "place," this feeling.

Family time has made me realize that I'm slowly becoming one of the problem children. As we talk about my brother and cousins graduating college and finding jobs, I cringe. As I see my older cousin talk about work, I cringe. As I watch my younger cousins make their way through college, talking about goals and dreams, I cringe. It hurts because I know how unsuccessful I've been. After years and years of being in honors classes and gifted-and-talented programs, I emerged from college with a GPA and record of which I'm mostly ashamed. I blame it on not being in the right major and being more focused on my extra-curricular activities, but it still sucks to know that I was capable of doing so much better.

I know I have to forget my past, to forgive myself for mistakes and move forward. For the most part, I have. But when it comes up in all the conversations around me, it becomes difficult not to let it eat away at me.

Fixing my health and anxiety problems is at a standstill. I keep myself knee-deep in denial by staying busy, claiming I have no time and that I'm doing better since I'm able to see my friends and go to parties and that I'll work on my diet after the next big event. The best thing I can equate it to is the high-dive at the community pool: I said I would do it, climbed the stairs, and am now standing at the top and realizing that I'm not so sure I want to dive in. I know I have to, but I'm hesitating and trying to find a way out.

Meanwhile, I've reached the point in my relationship when I have to start thinking and worrying. Well, not that I have to, but I do. Everything has been wonderful and amazing and I haven't worried about a damn thing up until now, which is great. But as time goes on, more things are at stake, and I'm panicking. I feel like, at any minute, the floodgates I put up to hold back the reality of my problems is about to burst and suddenly, it's going to become evident that things are much worse and much harder than he realizes.

And because of this, I can't sort my emotions out.

My brain is forcing walls up around my heart because it knows what I do, it knows that I love too fast and too hard; if I let that happen, once he sees how gargantuan my problems are he'll be gone and I'll be hurt. It doesn't matter if I'm exaggerating the severity of my problems in my head, or that he reassures me that he's here to help, or that maybe he doesn't care even if my problems are bigger than he expected. The walls have gone up and now begins the battle to tear them down.

The past month has been filled with activities that have kept me mostly distracted. Now that it's March and my calendar is empty, all of the things I've put off thinking about have come rushing back. I know it will pass, that things will get figured out or just pushed off again. For now all I can do is settle in, hope that getting it off my chest helps, listen to music, and just breathe.