I’m not here for you

I’m tired. I’m tired of being the mediator. I’m tired of being the only person giving a shit at work. I’m tired of being there for everyone, but having no one there for me. I’m tired of living in everyone’s life and not my own. I do not live for others. I do not live to sit there and listen to you talk about your boyfriend. I do not live to watch and cheer you on as you achieve your dreams. I do not live to pleasure you. I do not live to make all of the arrangements and plans for the sake of your happiness. I do not live for you.

I’m not going to do it anymore. When it gets to the point where I can’t even sit on my own and decide what to do with myself, I know I’ve been focused on others for too long. It’s happened before and I’m not going to keep letting it happen. I want to achieve my own dreams, to search for my own happiness. I want to be able to sit alone and figure out what the fuck to do with myself because I’ll know what I want to do with my life. I don’t want to have to feel like I need others in order to feel a sense of drive.

We’re not to be driven and motivated by the desire to make other people happy, because once they are gone they take that happiness with them. What are you left with then? You feel a loss of energy for the work you put into them and you gain nothing from it. Fuck that. I’m tired of putting my energy into others. It’s time to focus on me.

Fighting the feelings

I haven’t been feeling as ambitious as I know I could be. At one point in my life that’s all I was, ambitious to become someone better, smarter, healthier, and organized. I’ve slowly let all of this go because when I was ambitious, it was to the point of being overly worked and stressed out 24/7. Maybe I fear that feeling and that’s why I’ve let go. I miss it though, the thirst and drive. Now I’m parched, but I fail to reach for a glass of water.

Feelings tend to get in the way of actions. I know this. I knew this when I was going through depression and refused to get out of bed some mornings. My list of chores and goals for the day completely ignored. But, I’m recovered now. At least enough to where I can get out of bed every morning, even if it’s reluctantly. I want to be ambitious again. I want to feel my feelings of laziness, of being unmotivated or tired and still continue on the path that I need to take to become the person I want to be.

That’s the thing with the connection between feelings and actions. We tend to think that one will always cause another. In my case, it has been my feelings taking control of the actions I take, but I know this can change. I’ve forced myself to write when I was unwilling and once I started seeing words appear before my eyes, my motivation had changed. It’s beautiful to watch. It’s like rain disappearing and turning to a bright sunny sky, with a rainbow appearing overhead. I can do this, I know. I just need a reminder that my feelings don’t have to have control all the time.

When I feel like smoking a cigarette, I really don’t have to. When I feel like staying in bed, I have the choice to jump out of my covers and plaster a smile on my face. When I feel like calling out of work, I can put in earbuds blasting some dubstep to get me in the mood. It’s the actions I take that can completely transform the feelings that may develop due to biological tendencies.

So, even though I’m scared, I need to keep trying. I don’t want to look back at my life only to realize I could’ve done more. I want to write a book. I want to get my degree. I want to be healthy. I want to convince others to do what they need to do to achieve their own goals and I know the only way I can do that is by doing it myself.

I couldn’t save the fish

A costumer had left a plastic bag of six tiny gold fish outside of our store today. Just sitting there in the heat, squished together in the bag full of luke warm water and their own feces. When a man brought in the bag and handed it over, I picked it up with joy. I stared into the bag and watched the fish swim around in complete fear of my nose being so close to the plastic.

I told my coworkers that I would keep them. I was so excited. Something to care for, something to buy things for and love and give names to. Despite all my coworkers looking at me like I was crazy and saying they would die within a couple of days.

I still rushed home and poured then into a plastic container with fresh water. I was in the midst of planning my next trip to petco for supplies when I noticed one floating at the top of the water. They literally started dying a minute after I got them home. I don’t know what had happened.

I wanted to cry though. Watching as they started slowing creeping up to the top of the water, motionless, I decided to just flush them all down the toilet before I had to see the last 2 fall into the same fate.

I know I seem really pathetic and I’m overreacting, but I’ve been feeling extremely sympathetic to animals lately. There’s been a stronger desire to change my eating habits once again and I’ve always had veganism in the back of my mind. It’s always just floating there, like a dead fish in water. That’s all it is though, because without actually going through with it and taking the action needed to become vegan, it will always remain lifeless.

I’m going to try some new things though. We’ll see where these choices take me.

Love will find you

The beautiful thing about it is that it happens unexpectedly. A fire that was only a single burning flame inside you will suddenly ignite and heat up your insides like an oven. Consuming you to the point of confusion. You didn’t want it. You weren’t searching for it. That’s when it is the most worthwhile, because that’s when you know it’s real.

There’s no forcing small talk or judging appearances. It happens when you watch someone sip their coffee across the table from you and you suddenly wonder why you’re so intrigued by it. It happens when they speak and you’re suddenly more attentive than you are with others. It happens when you lay awake in the middle of the night because they come to mind.

Love is a feeling. Imagine the feeling of anger you get after an argument or when you’re suddenly depressed by a bad grade. It’s something that is completely out of our control. We don’t expect our emotions to come and go when they do, they have a mind of their own. So does love.

It’ll find you when you’re working an eight hour shift or taking yourself out for breakfast. It’ll find you when your out for a girls night. It’ll find you when you’re reading silently on your favorite bench at a park. Creeping up on you like a rumble in your stomach when you forget to eat all day.

So, don’t fret about finding love. You can swipe through every match on your tinder app or fawn over every pretty face that walks into the same room, but that will not be how you find love. You can’t possibly find love this way, because it finds you.

Me, Myself and I

I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyeliner fading from the 8 hour work day. I pull out the black pencil from my purse and use it the darken the lines. They shape perfectly around the course of my eye lid and flip up on each side to create a wing. The darker, the better. It distracted from how tired my eyes looked and if I had makeup on, it gave me yet another reason not to cry as I got through the night.

“You going out tonight?” My co worker looks me up and down as I continue fixing my face.

“Yea,” I sigh, finally putting down the eyeliner to take a good look at my attempt.

“Where to?” She continues to pry and I try not to scowl.

“I don’t know,” I lie through my teeth, throwing all the makeup I had spread about on the bathroom’s counter back into my purse. We’d both just got off of our shift and she tended to follow me out every time. I think she liked me, but I couldn’t tell you why. Every time she asked me a question I’d try my hardest to brush her off. I didn’t need friends. That’s not what I came to work for. I need money and answering her annoying questions isn’t going to get me any.

“Oh,” She stalls, grabbing onto the purse that’s hanging by her side, “Well, you’re working tomorrow aren’t you?”

“Yeap,” I finally close my bag and throw it onto my shoulder, “See you in the morning.”

I closed my eyes before grabbing onto the bathroom door handle and pushing onto it, freeing me from the confinement of her awkward imposition. Letting the door shut behind me, I rushed out to make my way to the parking lot. Without looking back, I hear the door slowly open again from behind me. I felt bad, but wasn’t I making it obvious that I didn’t want her hanging around me?

I can’t understand people like that, fucking needy. I was needy once and wanting of what I couldn’t have. Maybe I do understand. It’s an instinctual feeling, because of our social upbringings. We were once just animals trying to survive by finding our pack. Hunting in groups and forming families to avoid isolation. It was for safety.

I’ve felt like I needed someone before, until I realized that this feeling was just that. It was just a feeling. In modern society, shit has changed. People aren’t all looking for packs or friends or even a romantic partner. We have to manage to look out for ourselves and ourselves only. I could spend my whole life finding other people who could potentially be there for me, only to have them leave me stranded in a field surrounded by tigers hungry to chew on my flesh.

Today, we can’t be listening to our outdated biological triggers. You want a friend? You feel lonely, isolated, sad? Find something that’s constant, because people aren’t. I’ve decided my efforts are going towards a pursuit that wouldn’t abandon me. Money is constant. It doesn’t abandon me unless I choose to spend it on some new shoes.

Stop looking for people. Stop chasing people. They get swept away by life events as easy as paper does in the wind. The only person rooted down into the ground in your life is you. So, start investing time in growing trees to make your own paper instead of assuming your roommate will have some extra for you in her printer.

 

No more morning shots

I’m feeling sick to my stomach again. It could be the over consumption of junk food I’ve been munching down or the cigarette smoking used to avoid my thoughts, but it’s definitely more than just that. I’m starting to realize that I haven’t been myself lately. That’s when you start to get most uncomfortable, when you realize the life you’re living isn’t for you. It’s when you realize that you have to start making changes again.

I spent some time chasing after a guy who took me on stage at clubs and drank whiskey at 9 in the morning. I evolved myself so much in the lifestyle, that when I wasn’t around him I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was this on again off again thing and I’m not talking about the relationship with him. I’m talking about the one I had with myself. It was a battle of following my heart and pushing myself into a world that I did not belong in versus going back into the world I did.

Now that this guy is out of my life, I’ve come to the realization that I have to start rebuilding it. I’ve done this too many times. Left the life I know I’m supposed to live in order to be with a guy I have feelings for. I want to learn how to stop doing that. If I’m going to be with someone, I need them to understand that my life isn’t going to suddenly change for them. I’m going to want to keep writing at my same coffee shop every morning, not take shots of whiskey. I also like sleeping, preferably not just a drunken half sleep that causes me to wake up with a headache in the morning.

So, no more jumping into other people’s lives. It only causes me to come back to this empty feeling, like I lost myself while trying to find someone else. It’s just not going to work for me. I need to stay committed to my own life, at least until I build a foundation strong enough to where it doesn’t collapse as soon as my heart starts beating for a new love.

Facing Fear

I’m afraid. I’m afraid of facing my fears. I run away from research papers as if they’re chasing me through a dark hallway in the midst of a bad horror movie. I’m that white girl who runs away and hides, thinking the monster will just go into another room– thinking I’ll be safe until the credits start rolling, only to turn around and find the monster to be right behind me.

I don’t know if it’s the failure that really terrifies me or if it’s simply my imperfection. My inability to focus, to work hard. I have created this wall within my mind that prevents me from actually learning- from actually trying. Even as I type this out I’m afraid. I don’t want to confront my shortcomings. I gave up this quarter. I reached the end and I threw down my fucking cards before I even had the chance to see what the other players had been dealt. I folded. Like the way I fold myself underneath the covers in my bed to hide from my next assignment.

It’s hard to determine when it started being this way. I remember the English paper I had to write for 1B in community college. I waited last minute, as I do with everything else in my life. It was 11:50 pm and I had ten minutes to finish up my last body paragraph and conclusion. I was crying hysterically. I was reading through my paper, swearing at myself for the mess I had created on the screen in front of me, a bunch of jumbled words forced out of my head and down through my fingers so that I can finally just get it over with. I finally wrote the last word and turned it in, right at 12. I put my head down in shame. I knew it wasn’t my best work. I knew I could’ve done better. I also knew I wasn’t enjoying college anymore. I started to fucking hate it, just as I do now.

Then I see a person’s eyes light up when I tell them I go to UCLA. Like it’s a fucking badge of honor and maybe it should be, but I don’t wear it. I throw it in the corner of my closet with the clothes I don’t take the time to fold after wearing them. I don’t feel deserving. It’s my mindset. I know it is. I know I need to work harder, try harder, do better, be stronger. But, as I tell myself to do this and that, I still find that I fall back into that same pattern. Giving into my fears and folding.

I don’t know what I need to do. I really don’t. I tell myself I’ll do better next time. I promise the people who are counting on me that I will eventually do better, but I fail to do so. It’s funny because when I fail, it’s almost a relief. What I have failed at is over and done with, so I can be happy once again. Too bad, failing means that you have not achieved. It means that this goal that has been destined for you to accomplish, is still sitting there waiting for you. It’s lurking in the shadows. It’s coming up behind you, despite the belief that you are safe. It comes back again. What I have to do is learn how to face it. Take it head on. Turn around and look that monster straight in its eyes and attack it until it’s on the floor, dead in front of me. I need to face it. I can’t keep turning my back anymore. I’m tired of hiding.