Tuesday, February 25, 2014

good days.

I decided several weeks ago that, from now on, I'm only going to have good days. 

Don't get me wrong, I know that's a totally ridiculous to make a claim like that. And further, I KNOW me, I know exactly how little it takes to totally knock my day off the rails. I've always believed in bad days as simply the means necessary to really enjoy good days. 

Historically, I've had a pretty high good to bad day ratio. I'm a pretty happy person. I laugh a lot. I make other people laugh. I indulge myself. I pursue my interests. I'm fucking privileged. The world is on my side, what do I possibly have to be unhappy about? 

But you know, logic doesn't always win out. 

So, for about four months I was having A LOT of bad days. Like, a lot. Way more bad than good. I kept telling myself "Tomorrow will be the day I start pulling myself out of this." And then it was tomorrow and I just really couldn't find it in me. Of course, there were happy times in there. Obviously. But I was sad in the way where you feel like you're not living in your body anymore. Like, I really didn't care about how my parts felt, I was just slogging myself around from one place to the next, trying to get home so I could have a GD beer or six and go to bed and do it all over again. The sadness was bigger than me. 

And then my Nana died. My one person in the world who really, really understands me and still thinks I'm like the greatest thing that has ever walked the earth. Gone. Just like that. Practically no warning. I haven't really found the words to describe that one yet. 

And I think that was my tipping point. I really felt like, right then, I could just break into a million tiny smithereens and say 'fuck all' to the pieces. And really, my heart is broken. I'm really sad. But I'm not like, throw a glass against a brick wall with all your might, boom the glass is a metaphor for your spirit broken. I'm just sad. The ache-y, wake up crying and sometimes run down the rabbit hole of your memory with the company of a whole bottle of wine kind. 

Anyway, where were we? 

Oh yeah, the "Every day is going to be a good day" thing. 

It's not like, a fool proof plan or anything. But I try my tits off every day to not let myself get derailed. Sometimes days are good in different ways, and I'm trying to acknowledge that. For example:

Good outfit days
Good productivity days
Good find on Netflix days
Good hair days
Good clean room and fresh sheets days
Good discussion in class days
Good jokes at work days
Good conversation with friends days
Good craigslist missed connection days
Good book, so good I can't put it down, days
Good competence as the TA of my department days, when I avert crisis and save the day!
Good people-watching days
Good mountain adventure days
Good sunlight days
Good sit around on the couch with my roommates days

You get the gist. 

Anyway. I signed up to run a half marathon. And I am chewing fucking Nicorette, which is awful. And I drank tea instead of a cocktail last night. I skyped one of my friends AND my family the other day instead of avoiding phone calls. And I'm wearing less makeup. I did laundry! I'm doing that thing where you start clawing out of the hole. It was really hard at first, but I'm climbing out. Little by little. 

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

on my way back.

I know what happens when I stop writing.

I know the sensation of soul being further and further from body until you look down at your legs and haven't considered how they feel for weeks and weeks. In fact, maybe you can't remember how any part of your body feels. You've stopped considering your body. You're on auto-pilot, going through the motions. I know the dips and deep, hollow sadness that comes when I stop writing. 

And yet. 

I seem to keep doing it. 

Getting back into writing is a battle. Everything takes so much effort and sounds like shit and misses the mark. But if I can just force myself, it gets easier. If I can force myself to be gentle and patient with my soul, it gets better. 

Right now I need to start writing again. For self preservation. Because it's hard. Because at the end of the day, I love to write. 

Three weeks ago my favorite person in the entire world died. Three months from now I graduate with my Master's. 

Highs and lows, highs and lows. 

Hi. Hello.