call of forgiveness

I backed myself into no one's land. Shut every one out. Slammed the door, closed the curtains. There's no getting in and I'm pretending I'm not home.
Until recently.
Until recently, I allowed myself to believe that the most important people in my life didn't really care all that much about little ol' me. But, that's just a symptom of my own little turmoil because when I reached they were there. As much as they could be.
I have had a few powerful conversations lately. Allowed myself to be honest and opened that door up a little bit. I've learned a lot and let go of a ton.
One of those, was about forgiveness. What it really looks like, what it really means, but mostly, allowing myself to do it. She basically told me it's all or nothing. Wipe the slate clean. If you can't forgive and allow someone to change, there's no point. It's not fair.
And that goes both ways, for me, anyway. I have been so mad at myself for so many things. Constantly beating myself up over everything. Not giving myself a chance, much less the people in my life. It has been so easy for me to sit back and tell you what's fucked up about everything about you, but never getting the finger pointed back at me. How unfair. Though, if you really know me, that finger on my other hand is always aimed at myself.
I feel like I've been so stagnant. No growth. Forward motion. No pride. No hope. But I have dealt with some shit and, suddenly, burdens I've been carrying for years are being lifted. One by one. Some heavier than others, none any less important. And as I forgive you, I'm forgiving myself. Remembering. Reliving. Not really re-hashing. Accepting?
I don't know. It feels good. It feels like hope, waking up, breathing again, feeling again. I want to make plans and stick to them. I want to believe in you and myself. I want to love fearlessly. I want to have insatiable desires to be so much better.
I want. I need. I feel. I forgive.
you.
me.

go watch this. "dear zachary: a letter to a son about his father."
for andrew, zachary, kate, david and yourself.
people are incredible. courageous. amazing. inspiring.

grass is always greener.

There are not many people you meet, much less are a part of your every day life who will do anything for you without even a request. People who want to take care of you and give what they are able to give and consistently. It is a humbling experience when you do.
It is so easy, especially for me, to get so wrapped up, no, obsessed, with all the tally marks in the terrible column and to forget to mark the ones that go in the absolutely wonderful one. And those can most often out mark the aforementioned.
I wallow in the not-so-good. It's how I got to this place. But, if I allowed myself to really look around I'm surrounded by so, so many gifts. To a point that I also feel so, so undeserving.
And that right there, my friends, is the bottom line.
I once told someone long, long ago that I was content with things the way they were. She told me that was a shame. Being content is not living. I don't really agree with that entirely (and honestly was pissed when she said it), and the things that were being discussed at the time all went bad and are no longer pieces of my now life, but maybe what she really meant was that instead of just letting things be "okay," you make things the best you can.
The root of all this, if I really dig deep enough, is I have to believe that I deserve the best, and, I don't. I settle for content, okay, can't complain and that has gotten me to a really uncomfortable, unhappy place at the end of the day.
But, at the end of the day, a not-so-good day, I sat and cried because of how humbled I am by the good. And it felt so fucking good. I might not have the best of everything, but I'm starting to make a pretty good list. Lots of tallies. Whole nine.

something ain't right

I woke up this morning and my first thought was "since when did 'What-does-it-all-mean-Sunday' fall on a Tuesday?" And then I realized that it's been a What-does-it-all-mean-coupleayears. And I know you can relate. I've got to fight back. I've got to remember that it's all worth it. I don't know what I'm fighting for. I haven't come to grips with my reality that I don't know what the future looks like anymore. Everything's changing. I don't know if it's for the better. I have to hope so. That's all I got.
God, the future used to be so excitingly scary and now all I see are glimpses of the same day every day over and over and over again.
I'm a fighter. I always have been. I trust my gut, my heart and I go after it. Usually quietly, but I conquer the mountain nonetheless. But now, it takes everything I've got to get out of bed and make a cup of coffee to face the world.
I live so many different lives and none of them feel right because something's not right. I feel like in every situation I'm just faking it until I can go home and just deal with myself, but even that seems fake now. I'm not lying to everyone else though, just to myself.
My coffee cup's empty, now it's time to face the world in another day that is so much like yesterday. But I have never agreed to fake it til I make it so that stops now.

"They heard me singing and they told me to stop
Quit these pretentious things and just punch the clock
These days my life, I feel it has no purpose
But late at night the feelings swim to the surface."

moody blues

I really wanted to hate Hank Moody. Three episodes in to the first season of Californication I wanted to stop watching. Here's this guy who stands for everything I hate about someone- selfish, sleep-with-anyone-who-will-spread-for-him, egotistical, the whole nine. But then, I began to love him. I'll let all of the aforementioned slide because, I mean, really, the dude's just lost, I can't really blame him for the crutches he chooses to live on, I've got my own.
I don't know what it is, but I want to be his friend. I don't know if it's because he so aptly portrays the struggling writer (even though I want to hate him when he bangs out a novel in a weekend) or the undying love he has for his daughter and his baby momma and his relationship to both, I can overlook the rest on the basis of just those things. Because really, that's what we all do with many relationships in our lives, people don't meet our every expectation and I have found myself way too many times looking the other way when lied to my face and still loving friends through their indiscretions no matter how much I hate them.
It's gotten me thinking about what others may over look about me, but I pick myself apart enough. I'm aware of my flaws, I just have to stop pretending other people aren't. The difference between Hank and I is that although we're both aware of our own bullshit, he's unapologetic about it. He does what he feels, when he feels it, deals (or doesn't deal) with it later. But he wears them like a badge on his chest and his heart is rolled up in his sleeve.
So here they are, I care too much about what you think, I'm so self-absorbed that I've become a flake, I say I want to live this big, full life, but I continually find myself ignoring my phone and opting for a night on the couch with my cat, I seek approval from anyone and everyone, my expectations of you are way too high, I sometimes say I'm a writer, but I rarely write, I feel like you really want my opinion and I'll give it to you anyway, every day I wake up and say I'm going to be better and I go to bed mad at myself for lying again.
So, there you have it, call me on it. I promise I'm working on it, but, shit, old habits die hard. I just might not apologize about it anymore, right, Hank?

ghosts

I've always feared them, and, now, I find myself choosing to live with them. Daily. I allow myself to be haunted over and over again of my ancient past just to have it back momentarily. But, when the moment passes, I am left with such a raw, longing feeling. Leaving myself to deal with the gut reactions to tell the ghost what I'm feeling the next chance we run into each other in attempt to bring him back to my life. Telling myself if I'm just honest about how I feel, no doubt that would be enough to breath life back into him.
The truth is, life has gone on and almost always will and the past that I so desperately want back is the one I've just created. The beautiful, rose-colored one with all things neatly and perfectly arranged. No problems. Perfection. Instead of channeling those things into the here and now, instead of seeking real, tangible possibilities, my only desire is to revive the past and make it right.
Always, always fucking ghosts.
I fear the future now, even though, as I was told over dinner, it's happening every day. If I would just tell the present what I need to and let go of the past, I could be moving toward a rose-colored future (when I wear the right glasses). The words never come, hell they haven't even found a page until now for far too long.
I fear altering my present so as not to later discover more ghosts that I'll want to hold close for their fleeting comfort.
All of them are lessons learned wrapped in beautiful packages of hindsight tied with a neat bow of mistakes made. I should leave them as they are. But, once the knot is loosed and tossed aside all I am left with is the beautiful gift of what I really wanted it to be.
It's a painful, self-destructive, non-productive attempt as a better life.
Says the girl who always says (and believes?) "everything happens (happened?) for a reason.

half way

Today is the start of all of the things good I've been wanting for myself, but haven't had the courage to do. It has been a hard parade. It is time for me to be courageous.
My 24th year took me to personal depths I had never expected, but ones I needed to explore. It was heart-breaking, lonely, exhausting, difficult, beautiful and rewarding all at the same time. I allowed all of the relationships in my life to exist as they were meant to which allowed me to find so much more value in the ones I had previously neglected. Those are the ones that carried me through.
I never thought that I would be sitting just where I am, but the best part is, that it's exactly where I want to be right now. I'm working harder than I ever have, but am proud of it daily. I'm living in my own little nook in the world that is an external reflection of how I want to feel on the inside. Simple, bold, strong, comfortable, confident. I'm surrounded by people that have watched me grow in so many ways. That have always been there and I know will continue to be. And I'm getting my mind back so I can give myself what I need most.
You know this twenty-something business is so much harder than I ever, ever imagined it to be. Shoved into the real world only to find out that everything you've been told or thought just isn't so and you've got to figure it out from here.
Your whole life you are constantly passing mile stones. Every summer you move on the next school year. You lose teeth and gain inches. You get smarter and stronger. You achieve.
You graduate college and it feels like you fell off a cliff.
And you did.
But, see, here's the thing I just found out, life after college and as a twenty-something is going to be this ridiculous hardship as you climb up the side of this mountain to the rest of your life. Each inch up, as slow and pain staking as it may be, is taking us to this place of, "oh, okay, this is where I was supposed to end up." And the best part is, we're doing it on our own. Sure there are people cheering you along from below, from above, even next to you. And there's also people doubting you waiting for you to miss a step, but those people should make you want to do it more.
Half-way up, I've learned that no one's going to do it for you. No one can show you how anymore.
And I kind of like it better that way.