It’s 2011. It’s July. I’ve been away a while. A little over a year ago I got a job. An actual working-for-a-company-that-pays job. Kind of. I work remotely from home for a max 20 hours per week. As you can imagine it has been very taxing on my delicate person. I no longer have time to clean my house 12 hours a day. Now I have to work a few hours, and mop, vacuum, and straighten the pillows on my couch with the other eight. I also have to regularly communicate with strangers via email and Skype. I’m not sure who I am anymore.
In the last year I also bleached my hair blond orange and then dyed it back brown four separate times. I then cut most of it off, and what I didn’t cut just kind of snapped off. I joined Facebook and friended 150 people. I resigned from the Mormon church. I read Pulitzer prize winning novels, with word upon word that I hardly understood. I got tattooed, twice. I rearranged all the furniture in the house. I planted a garden. And I did all these things to help me feel worth something. To prove to myself there is value in myself. To try and find the small nubby growths that should be my wings.
It’s hard to write that I feel sad, lonely, scared, and little. It’s hard to write that I struggle, or have been struggling for the past…while. It’s hard for me to say I’m human, of the most basic kind.
Maybe that’s why for so long I haven’t said anything at all.
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It’s December now. Last day of the year. And man when I read what I wrote in July, I realize I wasn’t feeling all that well. Not well at all. I’m feeling better now. Much better. I’ve had to let go of a bunch of stuff that was sharp and poking at me. Poking little holes in me constantly. Now I only get poked now and then. (The bad kind of poking that is, wink)
Here is to all of you feeling better in 2012! Happy new year.
this was our favorite beach on Maui
