Back in February, I wrote one of my personal favorite pieces that I’ve ever written, and I never shared it. I wrote a series about a specific encounter (I.e. breakup) and I loved them all. They all flowed right out of me and it was so cathartic. But I didn’t share them because the ex was still in my friend circle and I didn’t want to cause drama. Our mutual friends didn’t need to know how ugly it got between us, and we were trying to stay friendly.

Our friendship recently ended, and although I’m not proud of the things I said (when are you ever proud of telling someone they can fuck right off?), I realized that I can now share this and be proud of it. I haven’t been writing a lot of poetry lately so it was disappointing to finally have new material that I liked and yet I was afraid to share.

Recently stumbled across that famous quote by Anne Lamott:

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

So while I’m not trying to cause more drama by sharing this, I am no longer afraid, and I want to share my work. Enjoy.

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Moment of Humility.

I avoid dating because while I have become pretty good at managing my mind in normal single life, I have always been afraid that I’m not quite ready to let someone in again, and that trying to do that before I’m ready would unleash some old behavior.

And hey, I was right.

I don’t trust men. Chalk it up to daddy issues, blame it on the fact that almost all of my serious relationships have been extremely manipulative, it doesn’t matter. I don’t trust men. I also have a tendency to get paranoid when I’m not grounded.

I like to have the power. So I walk into relationships with men that I know are way more into me than I am to them. I never have to really open up, they just look at me with gleaming eyes and I get to stay safe, fully able to walk away unscathed if I decide that I’m bored.

And I always get bored. Because I’m just not that into them. The men that I fall head over heels for never want me. So I settle with the ones that do but I wind up bored or annoyed or bored and annoyed because I don’t view them as an equal partner.

“Why even date them?” is the logical question to ask.

Because I convince myself that I’m interested. Because I’m lonely. Maybe there is an inkling of attraction there. But I’m an all or nothing kind of person, and when things are right for me I’m 100% in and know to my core that it’s the right decision. If I’m “not sure” or “trying to figure it out,” then it’s not for me.

So I either talk myself into going out with someone I know is very interested in me or I let myself be talked into it by someone trying to set me up. Neither situation ever turns out well for the guy.

This is my dating pattern. I’m fully aware of it.

I’m sorry to all the guys that have been a victim of this. Y’all should start a club or something. I recently realized every single one of these relationships looked exactly the same, down to the personalities of the guys involved also being super similar.

I’m forcing myself to be hyper aware of it because I’m going to try my best to not do this again to someone. My next relationship is going to be with someone I truly care about and know I want to be with, and if that means there’s a decent chance that I could be truly heartbroken by it, then so what. At least I’ll know it’s genuine.

Cannonball.

I’m holding myself accountable to keep writing. Especially when my last post was about how I want to write my way out of this slump I’ve been in and then I go a week without writing at all. So we’re off to a great start.

I lifted today for the first time in awhile!! I made it to the gym on Monday morning and I was so exhausted and still somewhat depressed that I just did some cardio, but hey, it’s better than nothing. Today I was just feeling it. The temperature finally dropped a bit, and this morning it was 75 so my dog and I went for a two mile power walk. It was great. We almost kept going for another mile but people were beginning to take advantage of the cooler weather and do yard work, and the fresh cut grass smell was really hitting me hard. I cleaned up the kitchen, did some dishes, ate lunch, lounged around for a bit, and then finally got restless enough to go hit the gym.

I am weak AF. Again. But it’s okay! I’ll get it back. It’s not like it’s permanently gone. My body is naturally really athletic so the nice thing is that if I’m just consistent then I can build strength pretty quickly. Plus it just feels so goooood.

I ended with abs and I literally just laid on my mat for a good two minutes before I got up, and the biggest smile was on my face. I love working out. I love lifting.

I’ve been at a crossroads lately at work. Another new opportunity presented itself to me.

I haven’t even been with this company for a year yet. I’m almost there, I started on August 1st.

On March 5th, I moved into my current role that’s a pretty boring desk job that I’m already kind of over.

And recently I was offered yet another move within the company.

It scared me. When I’m mentally in a good place, I love constant change. It’s thrilling to me. I lean into it and just see where it takes me. That’s how I wound up in Saint Louis. Something was calling me to this city and instead of questioning it, I just went for it.

But I haven’t been in the best mental space lately. So this new opportunity, this new change, scared the shit out of me. I’m terrified of disappointing people. This is something I’ve never done before, what if I’m not good at it?

I turned it down at first, and about a week later I realized that was a mistake. Lucky for me, the offer was made by a woman who fully understands that sometimes you just need a little more time to think.

I’m going for it. Once again, this newness is calling to me. There’s something in this decision that I honestly feel like I am supposed to do. Plus there’s a slight pay bump, which is always nice.

I think deep down, we always know what is right for us and what isn’t. The trick is just not letting other people or our own fears and insecurities get in the way of that.

On top of all of this, I’ve spent the majority of my previous weekends doing nothing. I got an offer to go out tonight with some friends, and I’m going. It’ll be fun. I need some fun in my life.

Lean into the new. Forget wading into the pool from the steps, just do a motherfucking cannonball in the deep end.

Day One.

So. I’ve mentioned that this year has not been the best for me. I’ve been slowly coming out of a several month long depressive episode and I’m rather overwhelmed by the amount of damage control that I now have in front of me. So I’m going to try and make it fun.

Consider this my own personal Find Your Happy Challenge. I’ll be documenting how it’s going, things I’m doing, etc. in a series of posts. I haven’t decided how often I’m going to hold myself accountable to write, but I want to put out at least a couple of posts a week. This isn’t a self-help series. I’m not going to be telling you how to get your shit back together if it recently all went to hell, I’m just going to be talking about things that I’m personally doing to get my personal shit together, and if something I share strikes a chord with you, then fantastic.

I’ve been drinking WAY too much. And I don’t mean partying, I mean drinking at home by myself. Over the past four weeks, I’ve spent about five days per week drinking. That’s way too much. For my own personal self-challenge, I’m not going to drink alone. Maybe for the rest of the summer, I’m not sure. Social drinks are fine, but no more getting drunk on my couch by myself. And yes, drinking with my dog is still drinking alone, I’m not using that loophole.

I’m going to push myself to go to the gym regularly, take care of my skin, and even cook more, so you guys may get some recipes/cooking epic fails out of this as well.

For today, I’m off to Schnucks to buy groceries for the week, and then I’ll probably clean the house a bit and head to the gym this evening. My body is the thing I’m most disappointed in. I worked my ass off in 2017 to drop about 40 pounds and I was in incredible shape at the end of last summer. While I’ve only gained a little, I’ve lost a lot of muscle mass and my body looks very different. I miss lifting heavy, and I’m going to get that back this summer for sure.

For now, I’ll end this with the song that I’ll have on repeat all day, Birthday by All Time Low.

Getting it back.

I haven’t been in the best place over the past few months. The decline was so slow that I didn’t even notice it until a couple of weeks ago when I almost couldn’t get out of bed to go to work. That was when I began to look around at what had been happening and realized that I needed to start actively trying to get out of it. These moods don’t just vanish and everything is okay. I always have to fight my way out of them.

It started so innocently. The things that I began to neglect were things that average, non-depressed people do regularly, but are really out of character for me. I stopped shaving my legs twice a week, which is a totally normal thing to do. Who shaves twice a week? I do. I stopped doing my at home pedicure routine. I stopped cleaning up after myself. My kitchen counter began to accumulate pantry items that should just be put away but instead I left out.

Then I stopped vacuuming. Stopped cleaning. Stopped brushing my dog. Stopped going to the gym. Stopped doing laundry.

I finally started to realize it when I was getting ready for work on a Monday and I had nothing to wear. Everything was dirty. I always do laundry on the weekends, and that hadn’t happened for a couple of weeks. Then while I was doing my makeup I noticed that my skin wasn’t looking too great, which was because I had stopped my nightly skin-care regimen. I was just wiping my makeup off with a wipe, and that’s nowhere near enough care for my skin.

I wasn’t taking my vitamins, I was making easy food for dinner that had no nutritional value whatsoever, and I was feeling like total crap.

I’m finally starting to get it back. I went to start deep cleaning my house this morning and (of course) I was basically out of all of my cleaning supplies. I vaguely remember trying to clean one weekend and using that as an excuse to not do it. I just made a massive Target run and I am now fully equipped to make this place spotless again.

Take care of yourself. It makes such a difference. I’m still not fully mentally okay but having a clean place and clean clothes, and eating good food helps. I’m hoping to get back in the gym tomorrow for the first time in over a month, and while I’m dreading how sore I’m going to be, I know it will be worth it in the long run.

I’m now going to spend the rest of my Sunday afternoon blasting Pray for the Wicked and cleaning this place from top to bottom.

 

 

Try again, fail better.

Being on the verge of tears for about a thousand different reasons while at work is a really interesting experience. I’ve been mildly depressed for pretty much the majority of the year due to the fact that I went from one crap-paying stressful job to a slightly better paying yet mind-numbing one. My days are completely routine and I spend most of my time alone in an office staring at a computer screen.
It hit me today that I have to go back to school, which is an idea I’ve been toying with for about a month now. The thought is enticing. The reality, not so much. As much as I wish studying for the GMAT would be some sixty second montage with an upbeat, get-down-to-business pop song playing in the background, that’s not actually the case. At all. Like, not even a little.
Then there’s the thing that has ruled all of my life decisions: fear.
What if I don’t get in?
Which was, of course, the first question my mother asked me when I first mentioned this idea to her.
What if my mediocre undergrad GPA,and nonexistent extracurricular activities other than what I did at Truman (the school I didn’t even graduate from) aren’t enough?
What if I’m not good enough?
Do admissions boards actually care that I’ve since found a passion and want to pursue it? Do they give a shit about my personality sob story that makes it really fucking hard to apply myself when I don’t see a point to the effort? Or will they just think I’m lazy?
The fear got to me a couple weeks ago and I actually abandoned this idea until today.
Today, I was bored out of my mind. It was one of those days at work where I finished everything I needed to do within my first hour of being there. Which just left 7 more hours to kill. I’ve felt like I’m slowly dying all day, and the thought came to me again:
I have to go back to school.
And then the fear creeps in. But today, instead of succumbing to the fear and abandoning the idea again, I remembered a conversation I had with a mentor when I was seventeen and applying to colleges.
He played into my fears, and ultimately convinced me that I wasn’t talented enough to bother auditioning for my dream school out of state. I believed him. He had this idea that failing is the worst thing that could possibly happen to you, and would continue to influence my decisions with that line of thinking throughout the next couple of years. I became terrified of failing.
Sometimes I wonder what that version of my life looks like, the one where I ignored him and auditioned for my dream school anyway. I think I would have been accepted. After that, I’m not sure. I know the 26 year old Becky in that version of reality is nothing like this one, though.
So,
what if I don’t get in?
Then I figure something else out. I take some classes outside of a degree to boost my GPA. Try again. Maybe fail again.
At least then I’ll know. I won’t be cowering behind some hypothetical situation in my mind that’s not the ideal outcome.
So, yeah.
I’m going to go back to school.

Wanna-be cool girl.

It’s interesting to me how different the character version of myself is than my real-life persona.
Character-version? What the hell are you talking about, Becky?
The version of myself that I imagine when I’m daydreaming. The version of myself that is cool and calm and collected. I use this visual of myself to either play out potential situations that I might find myself in, or just to kill time at my insanely boring desk job.
I have somewhat severe social anxiety. I’m like a goddamn deer in the headlights in brand new situations that I didn’t have time to mentally prepare for, and if those situations occur in an atmosphere that I’m already uncomfortable in, watch out, I might totally freeze and have an epic fail.
I practice things I’m going to say. Sometimes it’s out-loud in the mirror at home while I’m getting ready, sometimes it’s in the car (I’ve had entire hypothetical interviews with myself in the car), and sometimes it’s just mentally walking myself through a situation. It helps. It sounds crazy, but it helps. Practice makes perfect, or at least as close to perfect as I’m ever going to get.
When I imagine myself in these scenarios, it’s this character of myself, and goddamn she’s so much cooler than I am. Because she doesn’t have social anxiety, her hair is never frizzy, and her makeup doesn’t start to break apart during the last hour of work (goddamn hot and humid office). She doesn’t stutter when caught off guard, her eyes don’t get all big and give away her poker face when something new is put on the table, and she waits to think something over without getting excited right away at a new opportunity.
She’s so damn cool. Cooler than I’ll ever actually be.
My high school band director was the first person who ever told me how read-able I was. He said I should never take up poker. I haven’t.
I’m a very emotional person with a very expressive face and it’s very hard for me to keep my feelings to myself. This is also why I write, it’s like a pressure valve for whatever I’m feeling, and honestly, the more I write, the less major meltdowns I have so it’s gotta be doing something.
As much as I know that my emotional capacity is a huge part of what makes me who I am, I gotta say, there are many days where I wish I were a little more of an Ice Queen. A little more calm and collected.
Instead of the girl who gets so excited over animals that she’s practically in tears.
Eh.
Maybe it’s not so bad.
That character in my head is a nice daydream, because the truth is, me without high emotions or anxiety isn’t me.
…I could do without the stutter though.