Believe, Create, Attract

Moving through life one day, one step at a time.

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

Past ramblings of April 2016

Tonight, I left work. Tonight, I left my house. Tonight, I left the bar. Lost. Tonight I was broken, again, as I have been so many times before. And tonight I set out to see where the night would take me. Not to see who I would meet, or where I could rest my head, but where I would end up when all was said and done. Tonight I thought that I would end up on your doorstep, construction paper in hand, washable marker (or maybe even crayon) penning such a strong letter to scotch tape to your front door that it would lead you back. Back to me. Back to where I thought we were heading before the world stopped. Before my heart was shattered in to a million more pieces than I thought was possible. But instead, tonight I ended up in a circle. I passed my house - 3 glasses of wine deep - and I drove. I drove the way that inevitably (per my memory) would have lead me to your place. I put my fate in the hands of the universe, because any and all higher powers knew that I was no longer in control. Wine Jesus, take the wheel. I turned right and left and kept going straight. I merged, and I navigated a rotary, and I texted, and then I realized… I was heading home. Not to you, because I guess you aren’t, and never will be, home. In my head I had this beautifully written letter all down on my colorful construction paper, written in marker that is most likely on its final day (or nearing it). I had the words, powerful enough to get my point across, to alleviate the brokenness inside of me that pushes any sign of rejection away and shields me from any added hurt I may feel, words that would make you understand just how much I care(d) about you and just how deeply the day you ended things really cut me. Words that would bring you back, words that would cut you as deep but also somehow fix you, and fix “us” - the “us” I thought we could be. But instead, despite knowing I had gotten onto the highway in the right direction, or so I thought, I somehow ended up in the direction that lead me home. And it wasn’t until I had already passed my own exit that I realized it: the songs, the Universe, the whole entire world and then some, was leading me in the opposite direction of you. And all at once I realized, my future is in the opposite direction of you. My happiness is in the opposite direction of you. And it pains me, damn near kills me, to admit it but tonight was a sign. Because happiness doesn’t live in the past, the maybe’s, the what if’s or the why not’s. Happiness lives in picking up, and moving on, and growing up. And going home. Because home, wherever it may be, is where you’re safe and sound and can finally begin to move on.

[law-of-attraction-central]

The first step towards the life that you want is what you do in the now. You can not live with regret, because you are living in the past. Start with forgiving yourself and move forward, The universe will do the rest!

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

Sting Like A Bee

You would think over time it would hurt less. Instead it boils up and eats away at you It stings more and more as you get older It hurts more and digs into the deepest darkest parts of your being It’s not easy, and it’s in all of us. There is not a single person in this world who can honestly say they’ve never felt it - that ripping, gnawing, tearing feeling of being utterly and terribly alone.  Feeling like nothing is going to change, but at the same time you know it has to. It’s like the Universe is tearing you in all directions trying to make sense of life in any way it can. You search, and you hope and you plead, maybe even bargaining “If you let this happen, I swear I’ll…” Empty promises. They’re always empty. The ones he made you. The ones you make to yourself. I won’t text, I won’t bother, I won’t care, I won’t try, I won’t let this hurt. If only we had control over the latter. Eventually you move on. You move on from him.  You move on from her.  You move on from the things currently ailing you, tearing at you, gnawing, biting and freezing you inside. But it doesn’t just go away. And that’s the worst part, isn’t it? The lingering sting. Like the bites of the vermin of summer. The bumps and bruises they leave, lingering, itching, sometimes stinging, maybe even leaving a piece of them with you - if only for a moment - just to remind you that the damage was done. That they were there. And that the choices you made lead to a failed attempt at something. Or maybe it was successful, fun while it lasted, terminating appropriately but leaving marks you didn’t realize until later. Either way, I guess it goes away eventually, but you’re always cautious after that. You’re always putting on repellent to attempt to prevent the discomfort from happening again.  You’re guarding and blocking and preventing in any way you can. And sometimes you block so well that you have a great wall around you, and other times you just stop doing the things that lead you to put up those defenses in the first place. Fearing, every time, that the discomfort will happen again.  That the stinging and tearing and biting will happen again. Maybe one day it will stop, or maybe one day you will just heal enough that you can move on and never let it happen again. Or maybe none of it ever makes sense. Maybe like this post. Maybe not.

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

Can we be back at 2 AM yesterday?

The ramblings from my head at 2 AM today are killing me. But also not.

What’s going on in my head right now?

Maybe he’s mad at me. Maybe he’s mad because he has a mark or two. But I’m all marked up too.

Maybe I did something weird in my sleep?

This is all insane. I’m over fucking reacting and I’m just making things complicated in my head for nothing.

I miss him. That makes me sad. But I also kind of like having him to miss. I wish I knew if he missed me.

He said he liked me. But he didn’t kiss me this morning when I left. Whatever that’s petty. He probably had gnarly morning breath or something. Not that I would care. Just kiss me damnit. Everything you do is perfect anyway.

He liked my picture on Instagram but didn’t text me back. Why? I hate social media. I really, REALLY, fucking hate social media.

I just can’t get enough of him. I want to know everything about him. I want to spend more time with him. I know he has minimal time to spend though. I just want to see him before I leave for DC.

He’s going to text me back eventually, right? I wonder if he’s going to [one place for work] tomorrow, or [one place for fun]? If he does none of the above will he tell me? I can’t even remember if none was an option. Fuck, I just want to see him again.

I can’t believe how perfectly kind and sweet and respectful he was last night. I think he’s [almost] everything I want. (Scratch that: after re-reading tonight, there’s no almost. He is.)

He wouldn’t talk about future plans and things we should do if he didn’t want to continue to see me or hang out with me would he? “We will change that” he said. And he wouldn’t tell me all those major secrets about majorly important people (close to him, popular to others) if he didn’t trust me or plan on keeping me around, right?

He said he likes me too.

“I like it.” “I like you.” “I like you.” “You’re cute.” “You’re cute.”

Hahaha writing that makes me want to gag but also makes me so happy. Fuck. Just text me back.

There’s no one in the world I would rather wait for. The weirdest part is I’m not even antsy because I feel like you’re going to leave as much as I’m antsy about when I’m going to hear from or see you next.

Please watch the meteor showers with me. I’ll stay up all night if I have to, just to see you.

I would. I would do anything for another minute of your time. And I think that scares me. Because for some reason writing that put tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. But there’s nothing to even cry about.

What the fuck is this? Am I completely insane? Have I lost my mind entirely?

Hell, when I read this tomorrow I’m probably going to offer to section myself. There’s no way this doesn’t sound like psychotic ramblings.

I like you. I like you.

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

I'm pissed. Everywhere I look, every article I read, is more and more about how people are continually oppressed. I'm not mad that the articles are there - not by any means. This world clearly needs these issues thrown in our faces. I'm mad because it's still happening, and honestly I feel as though things are only getting worse. I'm mad because I'm a female and apparently that means the world can blame whatever happens to me on how I dress, the pictures I take, the things I eat, how I present myself, if I did or did not "speak like a proper lady", and so on. I'm mad because people think they don't need feminism, solely because no one seems to understand that feminism is in favor of everyone - male, female, trans, gay, straight, etc. I'm mad because somehow, in this world that we consider "forward thinking" and "modern," we still seem to think that being anything other than cisgendered and heterosexual is a choice or a phase. I'm mad because rights are being taken away and lives are being lost, and humans are being completely disrespected. You know what you do choose? The food you eat, the clothes you wear, the shows and movies that you watch, the music you listen to, the creed/faith/religion/spirituality you practice (and preach.) You know what you don't choose? Your gender identity, your sexuality, your race, your ethnicity, the very basic and inate parts of who you are on the inside. I'm mad because I'm aware of white privelege and I know how much it hurts people. I'm mad because when people see a name that doesn't "look Caucasion" or "look American" there are stereotypes attached - resumes turned away, applications shoved to the side, people stereotyped all because of their name, their assumed racial and ethnic identity. This world has me so infuriated. But what can I do? I can rant and rave and scream until I'm blue in the face. I can yell and scream and bitch on social media. But the best thing that anyone can do? Stand up, speak out, educate and advocate and don't be ashamed or embarrassed to point out what's right and what's wrong in the world. Don't fight violence with violence. Don't scream at someone screaming at you. Don't throw racist comments around because they've been said at you. Don't degrade someone because of who they are. Stand up for what's right. When you hear a rape joke, tell them it's wrong - you never know who around you has been victimized (1 in 4 females and 1 in 6 males - keep those numbers in your head.) When someone says something racially or ethnically charged in all the wrong ways, correct them - there's a right and a wrong way to approach everyone, and every single person deserves respect. When someone refuses service to another person because of their race, religion, gender identity, sexuality, or any other unjust reason, stand up for them - walk out, don't give places like that any business, even if it is legal to do in the areas you're in. I'm mad. But I'm not powerless, and neither are you. Stand up, fight what's wrong in this world, help make this world a more accepting and understanding place. We have the chance now, and the opportunities to do so have never been greater. We are all human, and we all deserve to be treated as such.

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

I need its noises in my ear...

I miss the seawall. I miss driving/running/walking/sitting along Saint Mary's By The Sea. I live in Rhode Island, yet I feel landlocked. Back home I had places of my own that I could go to, that I could take solace in.  They were comfortable, they were safe and I could go there with friends or on my own.  Here I don't have a spot.  I don't have a place of my own.  I have my apartment, and I have my cat and my dog (who I love more than anything). When I lived in Syracuse I had "The Spot" with my best friend, under two willow trees on the hills of campus, where we would go and lay and watch the stars - one time even 3 shooting stars in a row right after she said "I want to see a shooting star tonight."  There were 3 of us that night and there were 3 shooting stars.  I can't remember if we saw more throughout our time sitting there, but I just remember the amazing timing that we had right at that very second - she asked and we received.  Off campus there was a lake, in a landlocked part of the world I found a lake.  It was 20 or 30 minutes away but even in the worst of snowstorms it was there, and I would go, and sit in my car, and listen to music and clear my head. When I moved home from Syracuse the Seawall was, of course, still there.  It was the first thing I had.  There was the Seawall, and then there was Savin Rock.  I could go on a drive, 15 to 30 minutes depending on how far I wanted to go, and I was there.  After moving into my own apartment (off campus) there was Saint Mary's [By The Sea] and I started to run it.  I would jog/run/walk it, and if it was too cold I would drive to it and then take refuge in my car when it got too chilly.  On nights when the tide was out I had my own secret location, where the water had receded and you could walk out to a part of the beach that had, until that time of day/night, been hidden to the rest of the world.  It was my secret little hideaway, my own private island. But here, sure I'm surrounded by water but, there isn't really anything for me.  There isn't a single place that holds that certain comfort for me, not one single spot that I can go, alone, and know that I'm safe with just me, myself and my thoughts. Initially I thought the worst part was not having anyone within an hour's time that I could call up and have a random adventure with, or who I could just get up and drive aimlessly with, but I broke that barrier and stopped letting it be a barrier.  Now I've realized, as the weather gets warmer and pictures continue to pop up of places I used to take comfort in, that I miss having a safe space by the water, a place to hide away where no one could find me - good, bad or indifferent.  Or a place that only I knew how to get to, that only I could find, that only happened at the time of day when I felt most vulnerable, when I needed the comfort the most.  A place with rocks that reached out to the Sound, where I could sit and write, or read, or just think, while looking across a body of water at a place nearly 2 hours away by car but from where I was sitting no longer seemed like it was that far away.  A place where anything seemed possible and far away places seemed closer than ever.  A place where, if you looked in the right direction at the right time, the sky and the water seemed to make this beautiful pact to continue on forever, with no end in sight. I'm not sure if it's the places themselves I miss or just having a place like it.  If I lived in Newport I could imagine that this wouldn't even be a problem because I know places around Newport so similar to those back home, ones where I could disappear to for an hour or two and clear my head.  Places where I could go for a drive and, even if I didn't stop at all, still be able to break free from the constraints that my thoughts tend to hold me in. I need that again.  I never thought that I would want to move back to a suburban setting, I thought the city would be all I needed, but it's not.  I need the woods to drive through at random, I need the water to run to when I have no where else to go, I need the salt water air to hug me and hold me tight when I'm lost and completely unsure of everything I know. I need all of that right now, and here I have none of that and it makes me feel more lost and more alone than I ever have before. I need to find my hope again.

[mylawofattractionlife]

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

I needed to see this today.

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

Guises and Facades and Illusions, Oh My.

Bear with me here, after re-reading the beginning of this post I realized that it might start off sounding like a post meant to gloat, but it's quite the opposite.  It's a post meant to show people that I'm human... so here goes... I've been told more times than once in recent weeks that my positive attitude and ability to keep my head up through the work that I do, which most people see as tragic and depressing, is something of an inspiration.  Currently I work as a Domestic Violence Educator.  Prior to that I worked with adults in the mental health system who often times were battling demons outside of their diagnoses as well (alcoholism, drug addiction, homelessness, family turmoil, various traumas both past and present, etc.).  And initially, almost straight out of college I began working with victim/survivors of domestic violence and sexual assault.  Through college I did work with MADD, monitoring DUI and DWI cases through the courts, and I also spent a little time doing service learning at a domestic violence shelter prior to transferring from Syracuse.  Never once have I lost faith in humanity, and never once have I ever done anything less than fight for what is right for those who need it at the time. But sometimes I don't feel strong.  Sometimes I feel like I'm completely falling apart.  My work never feels tragic or miserable, and the causes I take up, the people that I work to help, those are the things that keep me going.  Some people might look at me as a girl who has never known a hardship in her life - I'm a white female from Connecticut (trust me, not everyone in my state is rich) and I have lived on my own since I was around 20 years old (renting began then, but I was away at school prior.)  The reality of it is that I haven't always had things easy, and they still aren't - although they are starting to look up. I get down and out sometimes.  I get frustrated with people, places and things just like everyone else.  I hate the hand I've been dealt sometimes.  I came from a household where my mother was battling her own demons, and on weekends I was in a house filled with tension for one reason or another (as I've gotten older I've realized that a lot of it was for reasons compeltely different than the ones I had attempted to conceptualize as a child, and that I was potentially swayed in one way or another by different parties at certain times in thinking each way about each situation.. but that's another very personal story that I don't feel the need to get into). Sometimes I worry.  I probably worry more than anyone even realizes.  Some of my close friends know where my brain goes when I let it rest - to all the bad things that could happen, that have happened, and that I'm terrified of happening again.  To lies and betrayals of the past. I so badly want to open up and talk about everything but I'm always terrified that the more I tell people about myself, the more they'll push me away and then I'll end up completely on my own starting all over again. In recent years it's gotten better, I've learned to let go of things that I don't need in my life, of situations and people that are completely unhealthy no matter what.  To protect myself and start to recover the person inside of me who has kept that will to fight going the entire time - no matter how down and out I got.  No matter how pushed down and defeated I've felt. Since moving from CT to RI things have gone so incredibly south, but things have also gone so completely and utterly amazing - in ways that I never thought possible.  I am a completely different person than I had ever expected to be.  I've proven to myself that I can make it and that I can keep going no matter what.  That I can continue on my journey of making the world a better place.  That sometimes, without ever even realizing it, I make such a huge impact on people's lives that they turn something around or that their day is made better just by something I've said, or done or written.

I could never ask for more than that - to touch other people's lives in ways I never thought possible.  But at the same time, I wish I could find that in myself.  I wish I could find that eternal positive and hang on to it the way that I apparently am able to portray myself as to other people. Part of me wants to scrap this whole post, in case anyone who has ever been affected positively by me finds it and finds out that I'm just a regular human, with regular feelings and sometimes I'm more hurt than I will ever let anyone know (I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you yesterday.. I hate knowing things I'm not supposed to because I act out in such irrational ways and I'm sure I made you feel like garbage too..).  But part of me also knows no one will probably ever come across this, so basically it's a draw. Wow.  It's amazing how different it feels to write this all out again. I used to blog.  I used to do Blurty & LiveJournal like it was my job.  And here I am, back again.  Words will always make life feel lighter for me.

[adayinthelifeofa20something]

There's No Place Like Home... Literally

For the last few years all I've been looking for is a place to call home. Somewhere to set some roots and finally be at peace.  I've been moving once a year since 2008, after losing the home that I grew up in - and even more since 2005 if you count the back and forth in college - and it's gotten pretty exhausting over the years. That being said, when I found this quote (while searching for something entirely different), I didn't take lightly to it.  It felt like a clear sign that even though I've been searching for years that I, ultimately, have found a home.  At least for now. From moving to Syracuse for school (2005-2008), back to CT (2008) to finish college (graduated in 2010 and had multiple apartments during and since then), and now to Rhode Island for a job in MA almost a year ago (May 2013), it has been quite the journey.  I keep saying, over and over again, that I want to find some place to settle down, a place to call home, but it never occurred to me that this journey I'm on, this one right now where I'm gearing up for yet another move and leaving what I've come to know behind yet again, is actually home for me.  Now, I definitely don't think the moving and bouncing is for me forever, but it's nice to think of what I once saw as hectic and bothersome, such a huge burden, as a makeshift home instead.  In fact, the only thing I've really known consistently since 2005 has been change, so change and venturing onward and upward really has become a home for me. I still do look forward to the day that I can buy a place and call it home, and settle in with the person I love and hopefully have it be a place to raise a family of our own, but until then I'll take the journey and I'll make it home.  After all, there is only so long that a person can continue to live this restless and untied for.

[demo]

It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.

Wisdom of Confucius (via demo)