This song is so sweet, I want to pinch its cheeks.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
realistic drama.
I've thought about you so much lately.
Words.
Freedom.
Set me free.
All of that.
I have so much to say and yet nothing at all at the same time.
I'm again in a place of change. Growth.
Struggle.
I thought to myself today, "is this what I'm all about? Is life for me this great big struggle, this holding on and letting go and trekking up the rocky mountain, sweat and tears, oh tears, yes, tears. And all for those moments, those days, maybe weeks -- never longer -- where I feel okay with me?"
Does anyone on this earth feel completely at ease, themselves, thick-skinned and warm, for longer than a breath of time?
I have this pattern, you see. A pattern that I've written about, joked about, talked about, analyzed, rolled around with therapist after therapist...
A pattern of self-destruction. Of staying even when I want to leave. Or convincing myself that it's just not good enough. I'm not good enough. Everything is just, so, incredibly, fucked up.
When in reality, there's beauty in the imperfect. I just have a hard time seeing it.
I'm still learning to stand on my own two feet and not reaching for the nearest shiny, sparkly, thing. (That usually disguises itself in another emotional entanglement with a boy, or someone in my family that I can focus on "improving". Let me roll my sleeves up and work nice and hard on you.)
I'm 27. I live at home. I still can't save money. I still can't stay single for long. I still can't wake up early for a consistent amount of time. I still can't face all the fears my therapist puts in front of me. I still can't finish my sobriety steps. And here I am wondering why my therapist asked me if I think I'm depressed?
I'm not depressed.
This is the pattern -- this is it.
I feed myself negative thoughts. I eat them down so quick, I don't even realize I have a choice.
Not to listen. Not to take them in.
To tell them to stop.
I am more than what I allow myself to think.
I don't need a man. I don't need more sleep. I don't need to place expectations on myself that are impossible to reach.
I can just be.
Free.
I have all the tools I need.
It's all about the decision.
The jump off.
The voice that I keep forgetting to listen to.
That says "you're alright, kid. Really, you are."
Words.
Freedom.
Set me free.
All of that.
I have so much to say and yet nothing at all at the same time.
I'm again in a place of change. Growth.
Struggle.
I thought to myself today, "is this what I'm all about? Is life for me this great big struggle, this holding on and letting go and trekking up the rocky mountain, sweat and tears, oh tears, yes, tears. And all for those moments, those days, maybe weeks -- never longer -- where I feel okay with me?"
Does anyone on this earth feel completely at ease, themselves, thick-skinned and warm, for longer than a breath of time?
I have this pattern, you see. A pattern that I've written about, joked about, talked about, analyzed, rolled around with therapist after therapist...
A pattern of self-destruction. Of staying even when I want to leave. Or convincing myself that it's just not good enough. I'm not good enough. Everything is just, so, incredibly, fucked up.
When in reality, there's beauty in the imperfect. I just have a hard time seeing it.
I'm still learning to stand on my own two feet and not reaching for the nearest shiny, sparkly, thing. (That usually disguises itself in another emotional entanglement with a boy, or someone in my family that I can focus on "improving". Let me roll my sleeves up and work nice and hard on you.)
I'm 27. I live at home. I still can't save money. I still can't stay single for long. I still can't wake up early for a consistent amount of time. I still can't face all the fears my therapist puts in front of me. I still can't finish my sobriety steps. And here I am wondering why my therapist asked me if I think I'm depressed?
I'm not depressed.
This is the pattern -- this is it.
I feed myself negative thoughts. I eat them down so quick, I don't even realize I have a choice.
Not to listen. Not to take them in.
To tell them to stop.
I am more than what I allow myself to think.
I don't need a man. I don't need more sleep. I don't need to place expectations on myself that are impossible to reach.
I can just be.
Free.
I have all the tools I need.
It's all about the decision.
The jump off.
The voice that I keep forgetting to listen to.
That says "you're alright, kid. Really, you are."
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Return of the whacky one
Hi blog! How are you? I think about you often, usually when I'm driving. A certain sentence or thought will arrive in my mind, and I'll get excited at the prospect of being able to knock out a nice blog post after work that night. But the trouble is, I never write it down after it comes to me. So -- sadly -- as quickly as the idea comes it leaves, because the rest of the day takes over and I've forgotten about the creative spark.
I'm in the car very often now. My job requires me to cover a certain territory of PA, and visit at least eight dermatologists a day, selling them the advantages of my products over the competition. I really do enjoy it. Everyday is different and new in the following wonderful ways: I'm in front of a different customer every day, I have to find creative new ways to start a conversation, I have to wear stylish suits and dresses (which makes me feel very womanly and pretty but also drains my bank account that I'm trying to open up a savings account from), and last but not least -- I have to make myself the center of attention each time I'm in there. My job requires me to be a presence in the office, a memorable part of the doctor's/office staff's day. Yes, I was meant for this. I am the oldest child of four and I come from a family of Type A personalities. I know how to demand the floor.
It's competitive too which keeps me focused! We all claim to suffer from adult ADD and I'm no stranger to that self-proclamation.
I wait up every Wednesday night for my sales numbers, comparing them to my fellow reps, especially the ones who began when I did. I analyze every single doctor I remember having great conversations with. When they aren't prescribing the way I hoped they would, I yell out a "c'mon doc! What's your problem?" But then it turns into, "now you've asked for it...if you think I was aggressive last time, you ain't seen nothing yet!" My family laughs seeing me this way. It's just fun. I like it.
I just feel like I want to end the post here. There's so much more to say but there's also laundry that needs to be finished, a car that needs to be vacuumed (I LOVE doing this chore for some reason) and a late lunch to be had. I'm also worried that I hate my new facebook profile picture.
Should I remove it? Gosh, such a HUGE decision. What in the world shall I do? (HE HE HA HA)
Peace love and acrylic nails (I wear those now too),
A.B.
I'm in the car very often now. My job requires me to cover a certain territory of PA, and visit at least eight dermatologists a day, selling them the advantages of my products over the competition. I really do enjoy it. Everyday is different and new in the following wonderful ways: I'm in front of a different customer every day, I have to find creative new ways to start a conversation, I have to wear stylish suits and dresses (which makes me feel very womanly and pretty but also drains my bank account that I'm trying to open up a savings account from), and last but not least -- I have to make myself the center of attention each time I'm in there. My job requires me to be a presence in the office, a memorable part of the doctor's/office staff's day. Yes, I was meant for this. I am the oldest child of four and I come from a family of Type A personalities. I know how to demand the floor.
It's competitive too which keeps me focused! We all claim to suffer from adult ADD and I'm no stranger to that self-proclamation.
I wait up every Wednesday night for my sales numbers, comparing them to my fellow reps, especially the ones who began when I did. I analyze every single doctor I remember having great conversations with. When they aren't prescribing the way I hoped they would, I yell out a "c'mon doc! What's your problem?" But then it turns into, "now you've asked for it...if you think I was aggressive last time, you ain't seen nothing yet!" My family laughs seeing me this way. It's just fun. I like it.
I just feel like I want to end the post here. There's so much more to say but there's also laundry that needs to be finished, a car that needs to be vacuumed (I LOVE doing this chore for some reason) and a late lunch to be had. I'm also worried that I hate my new facebook profile picture.
Should I remove it? Gosh, such a HUGE decision. What in the world shall I do? (HE HE HA HA)
Peace love and acrylic nails (I wear those now too),
A.B.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
you know how i feel
Dear You,
It seems you've finally caught yourself a break. Don't let your scared side take over and ruin a good thing. You've got an opportunity in front of you that you didn't think you were worthy of. Maybe, just maybe, you are. Don't be a perfectionist; at first you may need a little work. After all, you know little to nothing about the world you're breaking into. Be patient with yourself and remember that good things come to those who wait. If you keep doing that next right thing you can't go wrong. Show up for life and the impossible may become possible. Up until now you've worried that you ruined your chances at this sort of thing because of your disheveled past. You were wrong. What you were is not what you are. Maybe one day the negative thoughts will finally completely dissipate so that you can be that best version of yourself more often. Take each day and use it as an opportunity to face your fears and get creative. You're good at that remember? What you're doing isn't rocket science; it isn't even something you've really aspired to do; but guess what? It's something that you're naturally good at (or so they say): it gives you the chance to communicate, to be heard, to be challenged...and to drive around in a car you don't pay for. Being a self-employed novelist doesn't come with a perk like that. And hey, you never know, you could find great writing material in the characters you meet each day.
The world is your oyster.
To others, a new chapter like this may not mean this much. But that's their loss. Every new opportunity in your life is a blessing and a half.
Most of all --- don't f*ck this up or I'll kick your ass b*tch.
Love you more than you let yourself believe,
You
* my pre-interview jam
It seems you've finally caught yourself a break. Don't let your scared side take over and ruin a good thing. You've got an opportunity in front of you that you didn't think you were worthy of. Maybe, just maybe, you are. Don't be a perfectionist; at first you may need a little work. After all, you know little to nothing about the world you're breaking into. Be patient with yourself and remember that good things come to those who wait. If you keep doing that next right thing you can't go wrong. Show up for life and the impossible may become possible. Up until now you've worried that you ruined your chances at this sort of thing because of your disheveled past. You were wrong. What you were is not what you are. Maybe one day the negative thoughts will finally completely dissipate so that you can be that best version of yourself more often. Take each day and use it as an opportunity to face your fears and get creative. You're good at that remember? What you're doing isn't rocket science; it isn't even something you've really aspired to do; but guess what? It's something that you're naturally good at (or so they say): it gives you the chance to communicate, to be heard, to be challenged...and to drive around in a car you don't pay for. Being a self-employed novelist doesn't come with a perk like that. And hey, you never know, you could find great writing material in the characters you meet each day.
The world is your oyster.
To others, a new chapter like this may not mean this much. But that's their loss. Every new opportunity in your life is a blessing and a half.
Most of all --- don't f*ck this up or I'll kick your ass b*tch.
Love you more than you let yourself believe,
You
* my pre-interview jam
Friday, July 1, 2011
Where are you?
And so you went
To the place we don't know
Though we pretend to
We write it down
And say we've been there in our dreams
And say we're trying to get there with our good deeds
But we don't know
The way it feels to be
In between a memory
Perhaps you're watching
A telescope graces your weightless hands
You watch her cry for you in the morning
Subconsciously waiting for your morning call
That won't come
Or sigh for you at night
Missing your sweet dream wishes
I will try
Although I know I will not be much
I'm much too selfish to remember
To call her
When she's waiting for you
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