Why I can’t write.

I just want to come back, but I can’t get it out. Millenials struggle with this all the time: inadequacy. Social media shows us the perfect parts of everyone’s lives and makes us feel bad about ourselves.

The thing is that’s not my problem. My problem is I feel like that life is what y’all require. If I don’t have all the answers, the “10 things,” no one is going to want to read.

But I want to be honest and I want to be raw. I want you to read my posts and feel it because someone is finally putting into words the way you feel.

So… Here’s how I feel in no particular order…

  • This is the loudest on my mind right now because yesterday would have been three years. But I feel… heartbroken. We had a plan. Most recently, just a couple months ago, the man I thought I wanted forever with said he was going to move to Yakima so we could make it work. But I told him no. He would hate it here and we’ll figure out whenever I’m somewhere else. But I then I thought about it. He turns me into someone I hate… He makes me insecure and emotional and I can’t trust him anymore. It’s for massively stupid reasons. But the fact of the matter I just can’t. And I can’t think of anything that will ever change that. So I’m currently living with the fact that someday I’m going to have to have this conversation with the person who knows me better than anyone else. And that breaks my heart.
  • I intentionallyย “broke up” with my best friend several months ago. I know it was the right decisionย at the time for a myriad of different reasons and I still stand by it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not so. very. lonely. I don’t waste my time on people I don’t see value in, which means I just spend a whole lot of time alone. I don’t know who to tell about my happy things or my heartbreaks or the nights when my anxiety is too much to handle. On top of that, I can’t fix the damage that did to her. In the long run, I can handle myself and how upset I am. But I have lived most of my life putting other people’s wants before mine. So taking this stand for myself and valuing me is killing me.
  • These mass shootings are hitting me harder than they should. I wasn’t there. I don’t know people who were there. I know people whose family was there. I know people who should have been there but no one was. But they’re … they’re hitting me harder than they should.
  • I’m trying to be healthy, so my whole life currently revolves around making sure I’m not stuck somewhere where I’m going to have taco bell or McDonalds or order pizza. So great, I’ve lost 23 pounds but I can’t tell and I’m just hungry most of the time.
  • I hurt one of my family members really bad and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m going home in 12 days and all I want is for everything to be better. But I can’t make it better. I’ve apologized repeatedly but that’s all I can do. I have put off trips home because I don’t know how to deal with the aftermath. But I need to go home, so I’m terrified of that confrontation.
  • I, like many others my age, have massive imposter syndrome. I often have no idea how I got my job or how I still have it. I don’t know how I make my own meals or pay my bills or any of the above. I feel like I’m still a kid and I just wish this feeling, of all of them, would just go away.

So. That’s just a small look into my life. But the moral of the story is I haven’t been writing because I’m so very broken and I don’t know how to fix most of it. I don’t say all of this for sympathy or as a cry for help. I say this because I want you to know I’ve been there. Hell, I am there.

I want to come back to blogging and I want to come back as me — the good, the bad and the ugly.

I’m going to be working on a redesign in the future, too. So it’s not all bad. ๐Ÿ™‚

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