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Why am I unhappy?

A question that reeks and it’s stench spreads throughout my head; like a moldy article of clothing that’s smell spreads far and wide even after it’s been disposed of. I’m sitting on my bed getting ready for a big test I’m gonna take and I’m rlly excited for. And all of a sudden I felt the need to change my music and a small but sure question came to mind…. Why am I unhappy? And why am I unable to answer that question? Because I have no reason to rlly be unhappy, but then again I have every reason to be unhappy. And then I have to tell myself that this is what living with mental illness is like. I’ve never been diagnosed. I never went to the doctor and had a “professional” tell me that I was depressed or had any kind of sickness of the head. But I think everyone… to some degree has or has had some mental health issues. I know the hormonal imbalance of teenagers is ridiculous and that could (does) add to my reason for believing that I have in some form, depression. But depression for me isn’t loud and overbearing. It’s quiet. And it’s scattered and it comes in spurts and bouts. Here and there. Depression for me comes when I’m alone doing my own thing. Right after I get excited and start dancing and singing along to a song I love; in shorts and my knee high socks like a girl from a 70’s-80’s inspired movie. Depression for me comes after relating to a brand new song and (now) completely understanding why I write the way I do. Because out there, somewhere, someone feels lonely and scared and different and all of a sudden unloved and unwanted; and reading the right article or listening to the right song makes that hole in your heart feel a little less U N B E A R A B L E!! Depression comes when I wake up in the middle of the night with my eyes glued shut cuz I cried in my sleep and I look in the mirror to find someone I never thought I’d become. I am someone that a year ago I never would’ve imagined I would be. Hell; I’m someone that three months ago I never thought I’d be. I’ve grown to accept most of what I am. I’ve grown to appreciate what I cannot change. I’ve learned to be more willing. But every once in a while I just can’t shake the scary feeling that I may never experience that full joyous thing; where like your heart is full and you feel like every little thing will work out in your favor and everything is going to be ok. And while I know that I shouldn’t be so worried, anxiety gets the best of me. My anxious tendencies still seem to overrule all of my half hearted attempts to be vigorously content. And I ask myself Why am I unhappy?!

Things are goin great for me right now. I don’t want to lie and say they’re the best they’ve ever been. I would definitely be lying! But there is a new year coming soon and Tbh I’m quite ready for it. I’m ready to “wash off my yesterday” and start something new. I lost my best friend this year, he was what I would call my first love. He was such a great first love. I told someone one time that “it isn’t your first love unless they break your heart” and then he finally did. It was so hard, and such a growing experience. I’ve learned so much and met so many ppl; everything is just a growing experience. And we learn to be ok with that. I’m genuinely excited abt the person I’m becoming. And I would say no matter what you’ve been through this past year, you should be too. Everyday is an opportunity to become someone you’re proud of. I wasn’t very proud of who I’ve been; or what I’d begun to do and take part in. But whenever something is difficult for you…. all you have to do is walk away. In one of my group sessions we had a discussion abt being uncomfortable. We said “you are allowed to walk away from uncomfortable situations” that’s something you don’t think of very often, or hear spoken abt. I met this wonderful women named Hannah, and we spoke for abt an hour after one session that I’d gone to, complete strangers mind you. She told me all abt the things she’d experienced concerning heartbreak. How she didn’t hate the ppl that had broken her heart, she was thankful for everything she’d gone through. Then we jokingly (and embarrassingly) added a thank you, next pun. She told me so many things I’d been reassuring myself of lately. “It’s ok to not believe what other ppl believe.” “You’re seventeen, you don’t need to have your life planned out… it’ll come naturally.” And something she didn’t say, but I’ve told myself repeatedly is not to let hurt change me. I want to hold on to that softness I’ve grown so fond of having. I want to hold on to what Ive worked so hard, for so long, to have.

I know that saying the case is different for everyone should be said right now. Because I think a huge reason I’m unhappy is because I want to share in my success and my pain and achievements and yes… in my goals, with someone else. I know that’s definitely different then what some people might need to find happiness. But having a companion seems to be the biggest thing missing in my life right now. I have a job, I have projects, I have friends, I’ve made some new enemies, I’m pretty content with everything, except for the unsettling puzzle that never quite seems to be finished. I haven’t found my forever person. And while I know that it takes lifetimes, in some cases, to find your forever person. I’m in need of that person now. My parents have always said that outside of religion very few marriages would last. And I’m not exactly looking for marriage as of right now, but I don’t find that statement to be true at all. For years people were staying in devoted relationships, outside of religion. And while the reason for that was solely based off of the fact that they’d prefer to maintain a certain social image, or because it’s all they’d ever known; these were relationships that were still being kept. I don’t need my forever person to be a lover, (although that’d be pretty nice,) I’m just looking for someone to share my soul with. I’ve gotta find my own way of being happy without needing anyone else, I understand. But in some cliche way I’m hoping that I don’t have to do it on my own for long. I still have my fingers crossed and my astrology belt on hoping for someone to come around and change everything for me, and although they haven’t come up yet…. I’m not giving up

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Dear 2019,

Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you before. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to finally reach out to you; but here I am. I finally realized that I couldn’t avoid you any longer. And while mostly hopeful for your arrival, I’m somewhat anxious if I’m completely honest. There’s been so much that has happened to me this past year. I don’t wanna talk bad abt 2018 behind their back, but we didn’t always get along the best. It was long and hard (that’s what she said) and very difficult in a lot of ways. 2018 brought a lot of my personal accomplishments and trails to light. 2018 highlighted what I’d known since 2017 showed me. I guess I’ve been so anxious to meet all you have for me because for the first time ever I feel like a new person before our time together has even started. 2019 plz be kind to me. Be gentle with me. Be careful with my heart. 2019 teach me what I’ve failed to learn. 2019 make me wiser, but not too proud. 2019 help me to get better. I hope I am kind to you too. I hope I am hopeful, and sincere and lovely. I will be 18 this year, 2019 guide me thru whatever may come. I’ve been terrified I know, I usually am. But I hope you help me to let go of some of that. 2018 taught me how to be afraid again. So, 2019, teach me that I’m not who I was yesterday or the day before, or the day he left, or the day she got married, or the day he didn’t show up, or the time I was abused, I am who I am today. Teach me that I get to be exactly who I decide I am. Teach me not to let go of my dreams, my expectations, my aspirations. Teach me! Because I’m tired of what I’ve grown accustom to. Teach me because I’m sick of only knowing so little. 2019 come gently and don’t let me underestimate you. I cannot wait to see you and all that you do. With love and light


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When I’m done writing stories for you to read…

I recently read John Greens long awaited book Turtles All The Way Down I cant say “oh my gosh!! He’s done it again” but it was a pretty good book. A young girl named Aza Holmes somewhat falls for this boy who happens to have a secret blog and he writes abt her obviously. But then he figures out that she’s seeing what he’s writing and he writes stuff knowing she would see it. That was me. With every playlist knowing my Aza would flip through the songs, read the title, try and see if I was sending some subliminal message. And I was for a long time. And I wrote, on this blog, knowing my Aza would see what I was writing. Knowing my Aza would know exactly what I meant any and every single time I wrote something for him. My favorite take-away from the book although, has to be a quote that’s said if I can sum up all I’ve learned abt life in three words: it goes on. Big? Bold statement? Yeah I thought so too. It was rlly hard for me to get to that point; where I said yeah this hurts, yeah I’m not ok, but I will go on. Life will go on. And I’ve learned to live without other things so I can and I WILL overcome.

I don’t know how to write self help articles or feel good blog posts. All I know how to do is repeat something I’ve probably said hundreds of times in my life: you’re not alone. And while it always seems to be an untrue statement it’s mostly tru. I hate myself a lot of the time because I feel things or I think things that just aren’t even sensible. Like why? Things don’t makes sense in my head; so ofc why would they make any sense to someone outside of myself? Idk. But something I do now know is that life will go on. Eventually you learn to stop being hurt. Eventually hearing your song doesn’t bring you to tears. Eventually driving past your childhood home doesn’t stab a knife in you chest. Eventually that job you just lost turns into just another one of life’s stupid lessons on teaching you to get over yourself, pull your big girl panties up and start doing. Eventually you stop feeling sorry for yourself or your situation and start moving forward. And life goes on. Life was going before you got hurt and it will continue to do that after you’ve been hurt. And when you stop hurting you learn things. I learned to stop being cold, and to start talking again. My mom told me the other day to be quiet already cuz I was always talking. I was like sheesh ok mom *dramatically rolls eyes* and she said No I’m happy you started talking again. You stopped for a while there. And it was true. I hadn’t thought abt it that much but when everything happened I kind of went on auto pilot and just stopped being me. I wasn’t eating right, I wasn’t engaging in conversation, I wasn’t sleeping, I literally just couldn’t think the way I used to. And even now I don’t think the way I used to. I grew up a little bit, I matured and smoothed out a few edges. And slowly but surely I found my voice again. And I can talk 100mph. I will talk your ear off. But that was just another one of those life goes on things.

When I’m done writing stories for you to read. That’s a sentence or thought that’s been circling my head for a minute now. I’m done trying to win my Aza back through all the very poetic ways of expressing my pain. And it’s not only because I found someone new. It’s because no matter how hard you try to hold on to someone; when they express that they’re done; there is absolutely nothing you can do after that. I had to not only face the fact that now my Aza was gone. But now my Aza wasn’t even “my” Aza anymore. She was free to be her own Aza-y self. Without needing my permission, without needing my approval or consent. My Aza excruciatingly couldn’t be who he thought I needed him to be. My Aza told that to himself but I always said I didn’t need anything other then what I got. I lost my Aza a long time ago I guess. But I’m barely now getting over it. Because when you intertwine your heart and souls into someone, you rlly do lose yourself in them. Sadly I don’t want to try with my Aza anymore; I don’t want my Aza to become a stranger. Someone from my past, but my Aza wants to remain exactly where he is. An almost distant memory. But that memory is within my grasp and every now and then in my humanly flawed experience I grab it and hold it in my chest. To my Aza: goodbye. I’m done writing stories for you to read. This is me. And this is where I am….