38 days ago on my birthday, i started a project where i write a little bit every day. like handwrite. in a journal. i picked up a journal that has 365 pages, so i give myself a page a day and see what happens.
some days i find myself squeezing my thoughts onto a single page. other days, my entire entry can be “i’m drunk. the end.”
it’s hard to see what’s on my mind down on paper… it’s a circus up in there. granted, the last 12 months have been some of the worst consecutive ones in my life. i have every right to be a little out of control.
CONTROL. very likely the main reason my world is spinning. the lack of it, that is. i blame myself—and am blamed—for things beyond my control. things i couldn’t possibly see coming… things i couldn’t change.
but fuck it. i can’t always keep worrying about everyone else. someone’s gotta look out for me. and it’s time.
this weekend, my friend and i were going through old photos, and she said to me, “no offense,” (already offended) “but you always look your best when you’re single… except for when you were with _____.”
“yeah, well, i stayed looking fly for _____. he was worth it.”
we laughed it off and i didn’t really think much of it until i journaled later that night. but it was true. in my last 2 relationships, i hated my partners and i hated myself. and i let it show in how i carried myself.
but i know taking care of myself has little to do with who i’m partnered up with and more to do with me.
it really is time to DO ME.
to find what makes me happy.
to do what’s best for me.
to live my life.