I’m Done.

I don’t think I can do it anymore.

When my heart is calling out, I can’t pretend I don’t care. When I’m excited, when I’m hopeful, I can’t keep it to myself. When I have a joke aching to be made, I can’t waste it. I can’t stay quiet when I have so much to say. I can’t force myself to be social when I want to be alone, and I can’t hold myself back from meeting someone new. I can’t dilute myself in order to make others more comfortable. I can’t hide anymore.

I can’t lie anymore – to myself or to anyone else. I can’t be in denial about the things I don’t want to face. I can’t lock myself away, just to hide from the truth. I can’t “play the game” or “follow the code” or whatever other bullshit people come up with to make everyone act the same.

I have to follow my heart. I have to be loyal to my soul.

My friends, you’re going to see me. Really see me. You’re going to see my ugly expressions and hear me sing terribly and feel love and care emanating from me. You’re going to see my creations and hear my random thoughts and feel awkward and weird, because I’m awkward and weird. I’m going to annoy you. I’m going to confuse you and sadden you and offend you. I’m going to make you laugh. I’m going to warm your heart. I may even inspire you once or twice. There will be times when you don’t trust me, but I’ll be telling the truth. There will be times when you’ll take me seriously, but I’ll be telling a joke. We’ll sort it out eventually, because that’s what you do when you care about each other. You work it out. You keep going.

So, from here on out, I won’t start anything that’s not true to who I am. I won’t just go through the motions. I won’t commit to something that’s not my dream. I will keep fighting for what I want, what I believe in, even if I have to fight alone.

Because contentment doesn’t exist for me. “Good enough” and “okay” are not words I can relate to. I don’t do “half-way” or “kinda” or “almost.” I will stay forever, growing and improving, as long as what I commit to is doing the same, but I will not get stuck in a rut anymore.

That’s not a way that I can live.

And it’s time to start living the way I was meant to, the way I never was fully able to experience. It’s time to embrace the fear, the excitement, the peace and the sorrow. It’s time to set my spirit free.

And that begins NOW.

🥳

Tomorrow is my birthday.

At first I was going to slip into my old habit of ignoring it, but being around friends changed my mind.

Making it through this year is something to be proud of!

SO much has happened. COVID almost took me out and that wasn’t even a major point. It’s been a struggle. It’s been a fight. BUT I’M STILL HERE.

And not only am I here, but I am full of love for and from great friends, who mean the world to me. I have feelings for an incredible man, and though I don’t expect that to develop into anything, I am truly happy just to have him in my life. I have my boys, who frustrate and amaze me every single day.

And I have myself.

I have not let the fire go out. I am still very much me, as weird and emotional and intense and silly as I ever was. I love who I am, flaws and all. I’m continuing to work on myself. For the past year, I have been a lot kinder to myself on the inside. I’ve taken better care of my heart, mind, and soul, and I have gained a lot from that.

I have not, however, taken very good care of myself physically. That will change, though.

That’s not the only upcoming change. I have plans. I don’t know how many will actually happen, but I know the first step is moving to a place where progress is possible. I’m working on that, and I don’t plan on stopping there. I will not give up. I will not surrender.

So I have many reasons to celebrate! Life is chaotically wonderful and I can only hope it will continue to be so. Just like this post, which went in a completely different direction than intended, I hope that the next year is filled with unexpected twists and turns. The good, the bad, I’ll take it all! I’ll let it shape me, strengthen me, and bring me closer to the ones I love.

Because, really… isn’t that what life is all about?

~ 💜 ~

My main goal for the next year of my life is to commit to true love. Romantic, platonic, love of life… any and all that I can get. But it has to be real. No more playing around, no more tests, no more teaching lessons or taking on something I don’t feel, just to help someone else. From now on, it’s real, or it’s nothing.

Patterns

We all have our patterns. Some of these are comforting. Some give us structure. Some are harmful.

I have a habit of self-sabotage.

It all starts with an idea. Whatever the idea, I somehow think this will help me, give me the freedom and life that I need.

Then I start planning. I get psyched and dive right in. Then it overwhelms me and I start to drown in it. I go through these feelings a few times.

After a while, I get to a point where this can become a reality. Everything is in place and though it may not have gone smoothly, it has happened.

Then I fuck it up.

Sometimes right before the change, sometimes right after, I do something reckless to ruin it for myself. I tell myself that it’s the right thing, that it’s following my heart, when it’s really my way of failing on my own terms.

This conflict becomes a Hell that I struggle to turn into Heaven for far too long.

Finally, I’ve had enough. I let go of my demons and work to come up with an idea.

And it all starts again.

NO!

I’m not doing this again!

As much as I love the excitement of following my impulses, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t keep lying to myself and pretending that my actions are not motivated by fear. It’s time to stop holding myself back.

It’s time to believe in myself.

I have a plan. It’s coming together. Every day, I’m tested. Every day, temptation tries to pull me away from my goal. Every day, part of me wants to give in, change my plans, follow my impulses. This part tells me that it must be fate intervening. It takes coincidences and decorates them in attractive colors and shiny gimmicks. It takes a few words and writes them in the sky. It swirls petals around my feet, sings a song of thunder and lightning, blows gently against my lips, lights a blaze inside the hearth.

But I must resist. I must see these things for what they are; moments of beauty too pure to last. I must cherish them, but walk away before I see them spoil.

I must keep moving forward.

And I can. I can. I will. I will gather my strength and resist the urge to cling to these precious souvenirs of hope and love. I will keep my goal in mind, never allowing the distractions to become deceptions.

I will make it.

I just have to believe.

Delete Delete Delete

I am finally, after 34 years, at a point where I am truly myself. No masking, no diluting, no persona to take control. And I want to show that, I want to help people see the real me… but there’s only so much they want to see. It differs with every person and it can be difficult to find the line.

Open up
Delete delete
Spill my guts
Delete delete delete
Say hi
Delete

I don’t know how to interact with people.

But I’m lucky, you know? I’m lucky because I found a few whom I truly fit with. Who, even when they don’t completely understand me, accept me. Adore me, even.

I don’t have to delete anymore.

And I guess that’s really what I need to follow. Not the ones who make me feel like there’s something wrong with me. Not the ones who make me wonder what they think or feel. Not the ones who keep me at arm’s length. The ones who show me that if I were gone, my absence would be felt.

Those are my people.

Those are the ones I won’t leave. I’d walk through Hell with them, without even being asked.

For the rest, I’ll simply fade away.

Numb?

Ever since I was young, I had a switch that I could flip in case of emergency. This switch took emotion out of the situation. No matter how much worse things became, I didn’t feel it. I was detached, cold, numb. This allowed me to do whatever was needed, in order to survive. Those who knew me well, could tell I was not myself. I faked it well for those who did not.

At 16, this detached version of me received a name: Roxy Jones. Roxy was seen as mysterious, intriguing. She was daring, as she felt no fear. She also felt nothing for those who grew infatuated, so it was common to see a trail of heartbreak behind her.

While this emotionless state was definitely useful, it also had its consequences. Without heart involved, it was easy to dismiss others. This could include ignoring them for any length of time, bluntly expressing indifference, and/or cutting ties with no explanation. Any action that best suited the current needs was quickly taken, without regard for others or even my own future emotions.

She smiled, but there was no warmth. She fought with unmatched strength and determination. She had a goal and would attain it, no matter the cost.

It could also become extremely difficult to come back from. Though it was known what emotion should be felt at any given moment, it was not quite felt. Using music and other passions, there would be constant attempts to summon true emotion. Usually these methods would at least cause a wanting for emotion. Eventually, something would get through to me and I would slowly come back to Life.

She saw the world as it was; a list of necessities and rules for gaining them. In memories, feelings were seen only as insignificant details. She knew, however, that I was still within her; watching, readying myself for my return. It was her duty to protect me, but she knew I would never lie dormant for long. Even when she resisted, attempted to suppress me, a loved one would reach me and I would pull myself out.

The most recent time this switch was flipped, it was more desperately needed than ever, more control was given over, and it lasted longer. Without the support of another, I alone had to bring myself back to Life. The struggle was lengthy and felt impossible, but I refused to be defeated.

She reminded me that I was alone. She reminded me that the world was painful. She made me wonder if I could make it on my own. I met each of her negative reminders with one of beauty. The joy was enough motivation. The passion for Life was still within me.

A few days ago, the world began to bury me once again. This time, I decided, I would be prepared. I asked my dearest friend to contact me after some time, to help inspire my return. I informed others that I would be absent for a while, to limit contact and so prevent negative social consequences. Then, I stepped back, relinquished control.

Only… This feels different. I have distanced myself, but do not feel truly disconnected. I cannot detach. I still possess control. Emotions, though quieter, are still felt. Others’ are still considered.

She’s gone. She’s really gone. It’s all on me now.

From now on, I’ll have to fight for myself.

Silence

I’ve not had much to say as of late. I have mostly been searching through the silence. I had surrounded myself with noise for so long, so I’d not have to see what lies in front of me.

I am reducing the clutter, so I can see what is important. It is not easy… I have held on to these for so long, it is difficult to accept that none of this amounted to anything. I know, though, that it is all weighing me down. How much more will I give to something that is never to be?

It is time.

It is time to make room for something real.

It is time to embrace the silence, so I can welcome something meaningful.

And I wish for help, someone to hold me accountable. I wish for caring sternness, so I will not falter. I know that I cannot have this, not yet. I must find all within before I can find it without. This knowledge is accompanied by fear, guilt, and overwhelming self doubt. Even so, I will fight on.

I may fail. I will fail. That will not stop me. As long as I can find the silence, I still have hope.

One day, I will not be alone in the silence. On that day, I will finally win.

Friends.

My friends are my everything.

The people I know I can reach out to, to talk shit, get my mind off shit, or ask for help dealing with shit.
I may not always do it. I’m a loner and am not good at reaching out. But I know they are there.

The people who appreciate me.
They call it out or keep it silent, but I know they do. I know that my absence would be felt, that my presence makes a difference.

The people who check up on me.
When they notice some negativity, silence, or distant behavior, they reach out. They check in. They make sure all is well. Not with ulterior motives, but honestly FOR ME.

When you grow up surrounded by hatred, it can be difficult to accept love. It feels uncomfortable, disingenuous. Even if you do your best to be a kind and true friend, it doesn’t seem possible for others to be the same.

BULLSHIT!

Bitter, broken assholes have lied to you! The “nobody would care if you died” and “you are the most worthless thing” and “no one’s gonna love you; they’ll just lie to get something out of you” are nothing but PURE BULLSHIT.
YOU ARE NOT UNLOVABLE.

YOU
ARE
NOT
UNLOVABLE.

True Love exists, platonic and romantic. It’s out there, yours for the taking.
And I know this may be hard to accept, but

YOU FUCKING
DESERVE IT.
💜

I wouldn’t say I’m doing “well.” Things are rough. I’m having a hard time coping. But it’s a lot easier when you know your friends have your back.

 

⇐◊⇒

 

And I know some people see things like this and think, “Ugh, this emotional shit again.”
This is who I am. If you haven’t made peace with it by now, I doubt you ever will.
Don’t let me bring you down, just let go of me and move on.
I will not be offended. I love who I am, but I’m not for everybody.

And I absolutely will NOT
mute
dilute
change, or
be untrue to myself
for anyone.

 

A Painful Journey to Self

Have you ever just fucking loved yourself?

Like, just adored the hell out of yourself?

It’s a fantastic feeling.

♥

It’s been a long, rough road getting to this point. I grew up being told daily that I was worthless, that no one would love me, that everyone who was nice to me was just trying to get something from me. I was called many horrible names. My life was threatened countless times. Attempts were made to “accidentally” kill me. All of this was done by those who were supposed to love me most.

And I was a damn good kid.

I believed the words that were (sometimes physically) beaten into my head for so many years. I believed that I was a burden. I believed that I did not deserve to live. The only thing that kept me from ending my life was the knowledge that dealing with my death would cause an even larger burden for some. I hated myself for failing everyone.

But still, I stayed good. I stayed true.

This went on. They continued to stomp on me, even as I helped them. I made bad relationship choices, wanting to help people, save people. Wanting to have a positive effect, to hopefully cancel out the burden I placed on the world. When I continued to be treated terribly, it reaffirmed the belief that I was a failure.

But I never stopped. I didn’t know how to be anything BUT good.

I don’t exactly know how or when it happened. It sneaked up on me. I made jokes that only I laughed at. I created things that only I saw. I worked on improving myself, though no one knew. I was proud of these things.
I did things in ways that were often criticized, but felt right to me. I didn’t just take the road less traveled, I created my own. My thought processes were abnormal, but I wouldn’t want them any other way. I got excited about little things, and I gained so much joy from that. I loved intensely, and I loved the way I loved.

I struggled with simple things. I had to fight hard for the things most people take for granted. I never gave up. I never let it change me. I was always, always good.

And then it hit me. I wasn’t the one who failed. They had failed ME.

I WAS GOOD. I supported, helped, and sacrificed for others. All of the things they tore me down for, were the things that made me kind, selfless, loyal, and true. The things they hated so much in me were the things they weren’t, themselves.

I removed them from my life. All of them. Every single person who tried to break me, who tried to turn me into one of the bitter, hateful crowd.

And I felt lighter.

No longer did I have to carry their hatred. No longer did I have to withstand the blows of misplaced anger. I was free.

Alone, but free.

And the more time I spent alone, the more I realized that I love who I am. Surface to core, I am good. I am true to myself. I am unique and weird, compassionate and loving, intelligent and open-minded, passionate and spirited, strong and independent. I am disabled and ill, but that’s just my body. It’s just one more thing I have to fight. And I can take it.

I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to be. I am a worrier as much as a warrior. I am anxious. I am awkward. I struggle with depression. I get reclusive. I am impulsive. I sometimes hit an unreasonable level of anger. Fear occasionally rules me. Darkness washes over me.

But I love it all. I love the clean and dirty, the dark and light. I am always changing, adapting, growing, improving, and I love that most of all.

I will always have flaws. But I love myself unconditionally.

Maybe one day, someone else will, too.

 

Your Life

How are you spending your life?

Are you tirelessly working toward a future? Are you relaxing, with the intention of getting your shit together later?
Are you angry? Stressed? Bitter? Are you apathetic? Are you happy?

There it is: If you are truly honest with yourself… Are you happy?

They tell you to live like there’s no tomorrow. They tell you to stop screwing around and plan for the future. They tell you to pay attention to current events. They tell you to worry about your life, nothing else. They tell you to be serious, to have fun, to be sensible, to follow your dreams, to rely on no one, to ask for help, to-

FUCK WHAT THEY SAY

Who are they to tell you shit? They’re not you. They haven’t live your life, felt your feelings, thought your thoughts. Fuck ’em all.

What’s Right For You?

My life needs something/someone stable, but I need to be spontaneous, adventurous, creative, a free spirit. I need to take risks, make memories. I need to follow my heart, my passion, wherever it may lead. I need to love with my whole heart.

Many people have told me that I need to settle down. They’ve told me I can’t give so much of myself. They’ve told me I need to stop taking risks, that I need to think things through.

Fuck ’em.

I tried to live that life. I tried to mute myself, to put down roots, to calm myself and make choices based on logic.

I was miserable.
I sank into depression so deep I thought I’d never find my way out.
I didn’t want to exist anymore.

HOW IS THAT BETTER FOR ME?

Fuck that.

So, am I happy now? I’m getting there.

I am still in the process of returning to the life I need. I can’t do that in my current location, so I’m playing the waiting game while others once again try to tell me how to live.
Everything’s up in the air, people’s motives are cloudy, and I feel I’m stumbling around, blind.

But it’s okay. I’m excited.

But I’m getting there.

…

Wherever you’re at in life, whatever you’re doing… Be happy.

It’s just not worth it, otherwise.

Can’t Sleep? Write. (+voice)

I’ve gotten very little sleep lately. I am averaging around 2-3 hours a night. For someone with Narcolepsy, this is highly abnormal.

Today I made a couple of voice recordings. It was the only way I could get things out, and I needed to. I’m told my voice doesn’t sound like this IRL and God, I hope it doesn’t.

I’m not going to listen first. I’m not going to talk myself out of it. I’m just going to let it be.

I have been working on a specific blog entry for about 2 weeks now. I know it won’t matter to most people, but it is something I felt I needed to do. I think it needs to be finished tonight, but it is not as important as whatever this is about to become.

I need to get my head straight.

I have said it many times and will say it many more: I AM emotion. I am. For this reason, I make a lot of… let’s say… impulsive decisions. I follow my heart, always, because I must be true to myself.

I had a plan for this upcoming move, but I don’t trust that plan anymore. And now everything is up in the air.
I don’t know where to go. I don’t know what to do. And I’m waiting for a sign. I’m worried I’m trying too hard to see it. I’m worried I’m not in a state of mind where I can see it. I’m worried about worrying.

Funny thing… I am not the only one in this situation right now. One person is in a somewhat similar situation, and another… he spoke my heart tonight. He bared his soul and it matched mine and I cried. Actual tears streamed down. And I want to somehow make him see that I understand perfectly, but he is not one who knows me. He does not know to trust me.

But maybe that’s how it is meant to be. Maybe all I can do is say “I get it” and it will mean nothing. Maybe this isn’t about that.

I have to be me. If I continue to be true to myself, things will work out the way they should.

And I have tears again, just thinking about this change I have felt the past few days. I don’t know completely what it is, but I know that it’s beautiful. I know I have to wait and let the next step come to me.

This is going to lead me somewhere, I feel it. I am ready to follow.

I am all in.