20 Somethings for 20 Somethings

millennial- A word often used by old people to describe individuals raised throughout a financial crisis, graduating college with endless debt, working at the mall part-time to maintain a budget for urban outfitters, drowning in cheap trader joes wine, and successfully failing at anything & everything found on pinterest. if this is you, this is for you. for questions or info: [email protected]

[the20-20]

if I told you that just about everything I’ve ever written actually happened to me in the last year, you wouldn’t believe it. I’m sure along the way you’ve developed your opinions on me & the validity of my writings. I’m sure you don’t believe that I’d ever write farewell letters to friends or openly discuss my post-relationship sex horror stories. No, a sane person would never tell the entire “world” (I don’t think my reach is that huge but you get it) about issues with mental illness and total breakdowns. Nope. No one would ever do that. In this “highlight the great moments” generation, it’s very easy to believe that life solely consists of the clips we see on Instagram or the Facebook posts about major life events that generate nothing less than 100 likes. It’s also easy to assume that reality only happens to you, and not to the people you see with bottles living like rockstars every weekend. The entire purpose of this blog was to tell you that it’s all fake. Ok, maybe not all but most of it.

There is no soul on this earth exempt from experiencing life. We all win, we all lose, we all have to make decisions that aren’t always the most popular. Each and every person is faced with a moral dilemma at some point along the way. I’m probably the most flawed person I’ve ever met but I’d never ever change the path I’ve walked thus far. I’m a better woman as a result of it. 

The20-20.tumblr.com is no more. The posts will still remain (I’ll never let the handle go) but my work will no longer be here. A few weeks ago I sat in a dark room (this dramatic life chose me, so hush) and wondered where I’d take this…then I started searching basic web design and coding on youtube…then I discovered GoDaddy…then I purchased 20sfor20s.com.

I told you I’d get serious. Told you I’d never change. Told you I’d work on consistency. I hope you love the next chapter as much as I plan to. See you on the other side. 

-Rif. 

[the20-20]

another pointless "netflix & chill" write up.

Let me start by saying that I am so damn tired of these term. I’m sure I speak for all of the good folks at Netflix when I express my annoyance with this new, completely bogus phenomena (yes, I’m exaggerating but this is my canvas & Ima paint it paint it paint it how I want to, nigga. fuck you.)

Now that we’ve cleared that up…let’s begin :)

I’m not much of a Netflix & chill kinda person. Not because I’m some saint who believes that every single woman should be courted & taken on $1000 dates before even so much as responding to a “good morning” text, but because I just don’t like sitting in people’s house. I prefer watching movies alone, at home & in theaters. I also don’t get the point on turning on a movie in hopes that it leads to something. If you really want to smang, you don’t need to wait until Ace finally starts selling drugs in Paid in Full. what annoys me most about this entire thing is the numerous “think pieces” about how chilling & enjoying Netflix has somehow diminished the art of dating. all of the posts are super apocalyptic like “if you settle for Netflix & chilling you’ll never amount to anything else thus leaving you alone forever & ever, with cats & a scarlet message across your forehead so the entire world can see you for the Netflix & chilling Jezebel you truly are.” Girl, shut your ass up. I’m always always always here for friendly advice but I’m not here for standing up on a pedestal shouting "get like me" when in most cases the one on the elevated platform is just as flawed, if not more. 1. Who the hell do you think you are? If dating for you is sitting in a park--do that. If dating for you waiting for the billion dollar date that will never come--don't do that. If dating for you includes sleeping with someone during a Netflix original when you really want to binge watch Power but can't because ole boy doesn't have premium cable--don't do that either. You deserve HBO & Starz, boo. Don't you ever forget it. Moral to my story, stop letting these fake ass philosophers tell you how to live your life. The author behind your favorite advice column could be waiting for a text back JUST like you. She could be getting played while preaching about why you shouldn't be giving it up until after he courts for you for 5838594 days & sings outside of your window twice. This ain't a movie, bih, & there is no one way to do it. While we're on the topic, have any of you ever wondered whether or not Rob Hill Sr. is some type of womanizer? I swear I think about that shit every time I see one of his tweets. No? Just me? Ok. Bye.

[the20-20]

if you know me, you know that I am a HUGE Beyonce fan. I have every album, every concert DVD, I know all of her songs (the radio version AND the concert version), I know the choreography (even with no rhythm I can do the “Single Ladies” routine in my sleep), I’m a proud member of the Beyhive & have a hard time trusting those who aren’t. Beyonce Giselle Knowles-Carter, mother of Queen Blue Ivy & wife of Uncle Shawn Carter, is the truth. The way and the light. There is no other artist alive who can match the intensity of her performances or work ethic. Beyonce is the exception & the rule.

Ok…now back to my story.

This weekend I attended my first music festival & you know, it was an experience to say the very least. I walked down Benjamin Franklin Parkway with thousands of other drunk 20-Somethings, anxiously awaiting the start of the festival & nervous about where I’d pee after the alcohol started kicking in. (Yes, this is a huge concern for me.) Once Janai & I passed the “Made in America” sign I knew shit was about to get real but regardless of the 90 degree weather, Beyonce was only a short 6 hours away.

The lines for everything were long. The grassy areas were filled with dust. Despite my phobia, I had the displeasure of using a porter potty to relieve myself (& rubbing hand sanitizer on my hands and legs) so that I could be 100% for Beyonce’s performance. Sitting through Meek Mill was a bore, but meeting random strangers who professed the love for black women in a line for Korean food was fun. Aside from the obvious, the people probably the best part of the entire experience. We shamelessly drank 24oz strawberry lime-a-ritas (I like em flavored cuz I'm a classy bitch) & indulged in free Budweiser on top of a makeshift rooftop bar. This was also a really fun time. (This is still day 1, btw.) On day 2 I laced up my dirty from the day before converses & trekked through the dust in hopes of seeing Future. This was a fail. #FutureHive is probably worse than Beyhive and I'm sure the drug intake is significantly higher but, I digress. People were fighting. Kissing randoms for extending amounts of time (no one fears mono like I do, apparently). Girls & guys passed out along the sidewalks like empty bottle cans. This shit was a madhouse & I'm sure that's typical for music festivals, but I'm not exactly a music festival kind of person. Overall, I'd have to rate this experience a 6/10. Seeing so many artists was great but not at the expense of my back, legs, & OCD. Standing up for 6-8+ hours made me feel like I was working for the holiday in a department store...not fun at all. While I'd toy with the idea of a music festival in the future depending on who's performing, I think I'll stick to concerts with seats for now. :) Also, happy 24th birthday to me! 🎂

[the20-20]

23.

A few years ago a great friend of mine suggested that I write summaries at the end of each semester & place them in a folder that I wouldn't revisit until after graduation. I'm not sure if this person still even knows that I believe them to be great but either way, thank you. 23. I started this year off with pretty strong feelings towards people who had been deemed "special" & "great." Feelings of betrayal, mistrust, & a host of other things. There was a time when I was ashamed to admit that I have yet to reconcile or make amends with those people; not anymore. I hate to dwell on what was or ever be perceived as some type of tell-all writer because that's not my thing but this...this is important. Our seasons ended & yes, that did trouble me for awhile but you know what? I'm ok now. That's the only closure you'll ever need from me. A few weeks into 23 I abandoned my lease, got threatened with a lawsuit, moved into a big ass mansion in Georgetown & worked in a bar as a way to "save myself" from the depression (see: debt) I was drowning in...it didn't work, but I did meet some great people. I even took a shot at tapping into my jungle fever during this time. That was also really fun :) During these months I shared a love that I've always carried but never had the balls to reveal--writing. I wrote. I wrote to keep myself from choking the fuck out of the dark forces I called management at my last job. I wrote when I took a bus from Georgetown to my shitty house in NE (also whilst dodging crackheads in the alley but whatevs). I wrote when I wanted attention from the bozo not responding to my texts. I wrote when I laid in a "rehab" (see: psych ward) with an IV in my arm. I wrote when the doctors said I was ok to leave. I wrote when my job took my clearance & told me to get the fuck out. I wrote when my mom suggested (see: demanded) that I leave DC & come home to get my shit together. I used you, this space, as therapy even when you didn't know. I masked my pain with jokes about bad sex & naps in graveyards (that was wild af, btw) & you enjoyed it. You sent well wishes when my posts got dark. You cheered for me when I began to find my way. I want to be completely honest & say that you, the readers of the20-20, were here for me more than people I've let into my house & would give my last to. You wanted nothing but something to relate to, I needed nothing but someone to listen. I thought I was real before. I thought I was a fighter when I clearly had no idea of what my real battle would be. You can put me up against just about anything in this world & I will succeed. Even when I didn't fully believe in myself, all of these things were still true. My toughest wars have been & always will be the ones that I fight to preserve myself. I'm blessed to say that I've won so far. I'm especially thankful for that this year. All of the bad shit happened to me in the first, I would say, 5-4 months of this but since then shit has been dope. Not dope in a "look at me! I have everything together!" kinda way. More so in the way Kendrick Lamar expresses in "Alright." Yes, there may be many days when I'm fucked & yes. you may also experience such things but guess what? God got us so we gon be alright. sn: I'm really gonna have to answer for using curse words & God's likeness in the same sentence. Anyways. I'm looking forward to 24. Fighting off seasonal depression, studying for business courses (I'm originally poli sci so pray 4 dekid), & all. I'm ready. I'm proud of the woman I fought for. I believe in her strengths & have the tools to eliminate her weaknesses. I am who I am...and that's ok. -Rif.

[the20-20]

promises.

“you set expectations that I could not always live up to. even when I tried my hardest to be what you needed, I fell short. my human nature often made you believe the scales in our relationship were imbalanced. I can’t say that I blame your hesitance to take another chance on the imperfect being who could never quite get her actions to match her intent. I’m sorry.”

every single relationship we enter involves a promise. a promise to do right by the person who loves you enough to dedicate themselves. a promise to show up on time to the place paying your bills (regardless of how much you may or may not hate the people you deal with while there). or in my case, a promise to produce content on a continuous basis for those who have found in their hearts to read the randomness that dances around in my head from time to time.

no, these promises aren't always outright but with actions come expectations. I’m notorious for telling the guys I *deal* with that our situations include no expectations...I mean, cmon. that’s just a complete lie. even if I don’t expect you to be my man, your actions (especially the ones I fancy) will bring forth expectations. however, unexpressed expectations often lead to seas of disappointment, right? right.

anyways, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I expect from people and how severe my reaction can be when they fail to produce. if I come to work everyday and do the best I can, I’ll probably curse someone the fuck out if my direct deposit is for some reason anything less than what I worked for. much like that time when I keyed a very bitter message into my ex’s car after finding out that he had been cheating. no, it didn’t make me feel better but I can’t say that it made me feel worse. as you can see, I take the promises made by others seriously and have a hard time dealing with what I like to call “being slighted.” well, let me not say I have a hard time dealing because it’s more like I can’t deal with it all.

when my friends fail to stick to their promises I am especially unforgiving. I take the concept of friendship EXTREMELY serious and that’s why it’s hard for me to backtrack after I’ve been made to feel betrayed or alone by someone I’d do anything for. when I sat in a hospital a few months ago, the people who ran to my aid were those that I certainly did not expect and while I am thankful for their selflessness, I’ve never had much time to sit and consider how I will never be able to resume the relationships with those who weren't. those who walked out on me when I counseled them through all of life’s troubles, the ones who I’d drop everything for only to find out that they wouldn’t even drop a text. I don’t want this to turn into an “air em out” kinda thing so I won’t do that but yeah, it was a pretty tough pill to swallow. 

the shit that I experienced in November changed me A LOT. I no longer have an interest in the government security career that I dreamed of as a child, I no longer look at living back with my parents as something to be embarrassed about, I’ve grown so comfortable with the fact that I struggle with mental illness that I can now counsel others...for those things and many more, I am truly grateful. however, I’ve also learned the importance of being very serious about who I accept promises from. do I believe that all of these people set out to go on with their wild parties and fancy lifestyles as I laid in bed debating if life was worth it? nope, but I will never allow them the chance to deliver such a promise again. I, too, am now very cautious of the promises that I make to others to keep them from developing similar feelings towards me. for once in my life, I acknowledge the existence of expectations even when they are not explicitly communicated. even a small lighter can burn a bridge. 

-Rif.

[the20-20]

You're last post about "everything happens for a reason" is one of the realist things I think I've ever read on here. & it's exactly what I needed to here. One time for you!

thank you. thank you. thank you. I really appreciate that.

[the20-20]

the discretion of time.

"everything happens for a reason" did I ever tell you how much I hate that saying? I think it's only second to "no" for things I hate to hear. seriously. you could be on life support somewhere & a motherfucker will whisper "everything happens for a reason." what? what good can possibly come from this?! what is the "reason" for starvation, poverty, or children dying? what lesson is to be learned from terrorist attacks or slavery? ok, maybe that was a bit dramatic but hear me out. I really really do despise that phrase & I have my reasons! when I ended up in the hospital...I heard it. when the government deemed me "unfit" and "mentally unstable" and snatched my clearance away...I heard it. when I ended up flat broke & unable to maintain my jazzy (sarcasm) DC life...I heard it. when I found myself crying on my mom's couch because home no longer felt like home...I heard it too. again, have I ever told you how much I despise that saying? "everything happens for a reason" is only a satisfactory response when the reason is clear. however, when you find yourself at the shitty end of life's stick it's not exactly the greatest advice one can offer. why? because it makes you sit and wonder what the fuck you could've possibly done to end up in such horrible position. so since I've made it painstakingly clear how much I loath those 5 words when they're strung together to fill long pauses during conversation, I won't say that but I will tell you what I've learned about the importance of time. yesterday was the first time I ever sat back and felt like my struggle was necessary. I have never in my life rejoiced about my fucked up experiences or took the time to connect their importance to where I am currently. yesterday I did that. I thought about how receiving certain things two, three, hell, even one year ago could have completely altered the course of my life. how pertinent many situations were to my growth/development & more specifically, how they relate to the woman I am today. a few months ago I didn't exactly trust the discretion of time. it was hard maintain an optimistic spirit during torrential storms & I wasn't about to pretend like I could. however, a few months ago I also didn't know what life was preparing me for or how I'd soon look to memories of those dark days for inspiration. how I'd say "I didn't die because I wasn't supposed to" whenever depression had a grip on me so tight that I didn't think I'd make it out of bed. I didn't know what was to come & none of us do, that's why I don't say "everything happens for a reason" but I will say "trust the discretion of time." time took things away from me & while some of those things came back eventually, some didn't. some of the places & people will probably be gone forever but for no other reason than to make space for new beginnings. doesn't that sound much better? doesn't that make you more excited for the future instead of searching the files of your memory to find the occurrence that has caused the "everything" that is currently happening? maybe I just needed a way to make sense of shit. I don't know.

[the20-20]

something you forgot.

hello, old friend.

by now I’m sure you’re annoyed with my antics, my ability to stop in & make you feel like you’re the only one who matters only to leave as quick as I came...I’m sorry. now you can say you know what it’s like to experience the whirlwind that is loving Sharifa. you now know how it feels to establish a connection so deep that it had to have been destined, only to lose my interest once I am no longer stimulated. 

you.

I’ve never been a special person. I didn’t come quipped with anything that made me stand out or shine brighter than any of the other stars in the universe but you made me feel like I did. you made the formerly unordinary girl believe that she had a gift. there were times when I fought this gift and yet, you pushed me until I laid my heart on the line and clicked “post” with the blood from the blow still dripping from my fingers. you watched me laugh. you watched the world laugh when I joked about falling asleep in graveyards and making drunken mistakes that later led to blocked phone numbers and blogs about bad sex. we were, no, we are gold together. even in my darkest hours, you were the love that I found in a hopeless place and no, we never grew to be quite as successful as a Rihanna song but that doesn't change the importance of what we created.

I am not poetic. at times I sit and look at my words wondering how people will read and laugh about how “fake deep” I am or how I am caught up in some “let’s all get high and mispronounce Jean-Michel’s last name despite having his crown tattooed across our bodies” crowd. I’m not that. I’d be lying if I told you that I’m even slightly sure about what I am. I’m rambling now but I do miss you. I hope that you forgive me for seeking solace outside of this space. 

while I’ve never apologized for my lack of consistency in any other situation, I do want you to know that I’ve never forgotten you. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the time to post 2-3 times a day again but I do know that I’m always here. 

stay tuned. 

-Rif

[the20-20]

Please bless the timeline with a sermon on how not to be free pussy.

LMAOOOOOO. I feel like I've done this before but I can always run it back.

[the20-20]

What's your personal tumblr?

this is actually my only tumblr but I tweet! lol, it’s @yeahrifasaidit

[the20-20]

You should post more! :))

hi there!

That is definitely a hope of mine. my life is hectic but I’m trying to get back to a post a week. maybe every Wednesday? what say you?

:)

[the20-20]

a few more Rif rants.

heyyyyy yalllll! 

don’t give me a side-eye like I just walked into a family event with my 3rd man this year. have some manners and say “hi” back to your bae. :)

so a common joke amongst people in my life is that I don’t actually have conversations, but I rant instead. this is probably 100% true. I DO rant. why? because I’ve thought long and hard on anything I decide to speak about and don’t just talk out of my ass to fill space. I take my portion of any conversation a little too seriously. (note: I am very certain that this is a direct result of my desire to be smarter than everyone.)

ANYWAYDOE.

I’ve decided to start discussing multiple topics on each post. more like my thoughts on several things, as opposed to everything being super centralized. I feel like this may spark some type of consistency. (note: I care much more about being consistent with you guys than anyone else in my life. see how much I fuck with yal?)

Baltimore

I spoke before about my disgust with the mistreatment of Blacks by police (& everyone else but let’s keep some focus) and this is no different. I am so fucking tired of these hashtags. the videos. the t-shirts. more importantly, I’m tired of having to prove to other people why I deserve the rights promised to me in the constitution, or why I deserve respect. they call us animals but really, when you try to rationalize the murdering of teenage boys for stolen cigars or cases of mistaken identity; who’s the real animal?

Don Lemon & Stacey Dash

Fuck you. (you too, Fox News.)

Single Girl Shamers

For those of you who feel the need to drill single girls I have a few words for you. First off: bitch, shut up. Relationships are dope (when they’re actually worth something but I won’t shade you and Tone/Mike/Ty/Sean/WhateverAintShitDudeYouHaveLyingToYou today) but don’t you go trying to tell us how to live now that God finally got annoyed with your prayers and sent you someone to lay with. SILENCIO. 

Any man starting a sentence off with “Ladies,”

Have you ever had to bleed for 3+ days and still be expected to function like a normal person? Have you ever had to deal with random tenderness in your breasts? Just because it’s Tuesday? Have you EVUH had to do the same job as someone else and be paid significantly less because your genitalia splits and doesn’t swing? No? Wait, NO? You mean to tell me that you’ve never ever had the world tell you one day that you’re too small, then too large, then too Black and lastly have too much of an attitude? Can’t say you have, can you? Alright, then shut the fuck up. 

Fellow Brown Girl Bloggers

Thank you. Our stories, so precious and valuable, are being told now more than ever. There’s a place for us in this all-boys club they call writing. We can be powerful, sometimes we can be playful, we can even be a little ratchet but that is up to no one but us. I am so inspired by the creativity of all of you and I want you to know that our heroes aren't just the ones on TV. Because of you all, I am greater. 

That’s actually all I have for now. I really want to know what you guys think of this new thing I’m trying so yeah, holla at a hoe. 

Bye!

[the20-20]

"I see you."

there are very few things I hate more than being asked what I want. which is pretty strange considering my princess attitude but, yeah...I hate it. that question completely disrupts my train of thought. I'm usually in my own world, processing things as I choose to, & being asked "what I want" forces me to suspend my normal routine & deal with the inquiries of someone else. I know that's a bit much but look, if you've been reading long enough you have a good idea that I'm not exactly the most simple person. in this moment, I kinda want some ginger ale. I don't have my notebook with me so I kinda want that too. can you tell how much I suck at this? I can barely answer it when I'm the one who poses the question. anyways. the whole relationship thing is the usual source of this question & it's pretty annoying. the simple answer is "I don't know." the answer that most people actually want to hear is bit...much, I guess. I know what I like. I know that i typically go for stupid eye candy because I'd rather not have to listen to them talk & prefer only dealing with them when I absolutely just need a release. these situations are so easy. they're so dumb that they don't even realize how I've used them & will continue to whenever I'm bored enough to do so. I can't say that I've ever really dealt with someone who has challenged me mentally. even the smart eye candy was only "intellectual" enough to listen to in the time that it took me to see them without a shirt. after that, they could shut the fuck up...forever. I've always kinda wondered if that in itself is some type of "wall." Like, dealing with meaningless flings as a way to avoid real connections. I guess this is the part where I say I'm "scared of commitment" because I've "been hurt before." fuck all that. I just needed to clear my head. bye.

[the20-20]

This guy &I have been dating I moved out of state a couple months ago,we talk everyday. He tells me he can't wait to see me &how I need to come visit & I was down for it.. Fast forward 5 months I go back & visit him, finally! We talk, hook up (finally!) after 5 months,we leave on a good note talked abt the next time I come up there. I go back home. A week passes...I txt him. Nothing. 2 weeks later haven't heard a word. Should I tell him how I feel or just move on. My little feelings are hurt.

first thing, hey boo!I would personally chop this up as a loss. it's an unfortunate situation but we sometimes don't learn people's true intentions until it's too late. I wouldn't, however, completely count out the chance of something actually going on with him. it's a bit of a reach but it's possible. going forward, tho, I wouldn't think too much about the time it took you to actually hook up with him because it'll only piss you off even more (in this situation or any other.) I'm really sorry that it happened this way but with some people you just really never know.either way, I don't want you to get caught up on the idea of something being wrong with you. you're fine. you're probably even great. it's just that people will ALWAYS act in accordance with their own interests & seldom consider the feelings of others.

[the20-20]

when it gets personal.

today I got a message from someone asking what advice I could offer on patching the wounds created by a cheating spouse. I want to thank & dedicate this post to her for giving me the courage I never thought I’d possess to actually write or post this.

hey girl!

I actually haven’t written anything specifically about cheating because it’s a wound for me that is very much still open. As you know, I loved and committed to someone who I believed to be a dream for about *redacted* until I just completely walked away. I was embarrassed in school, having chicks coming to me about how my “man” had been selling these insane amounts of dreams and telling them my personal business. Even stuff about my depression which is just…smfh. I thought these girls were just haters because that’s what he told me. they “just didn’t want to see us together and see me happy.” I sure you’ve heard that before, right? It’s the easiest tool in the book for a cheater. Make you feel like you’re the one who is winning when the reality is, he’s the only victor in these sick ass love triangles. you’re not winning anything, you aren’t some champion gaining access to the “prize” that he believes himself to be. you’re a woman who is being taking advantage of. having her love used against her as a tool of control. this is not fucking fair and I am sorry to tell you but it is also something that you never actually “get over.”

these games stick with you forever. you’ll go back to certain memories and think about what you could’ve done better. how you could’ve loved harder or been more supportive when the reality of it is; you did every single thing you were supposed to do. you loved someone regardless of when they weren’t the angel they often presented themselves to be. you gave parts of yourself that you are no longer sure even exist. you did not do anything wrong and I need you to not just read that for sight but for comprehension and understanding.

I don’t know if I can tell you how to get over these things because I’m not sure if I have but I will tell you a few things.

1. you will LOVE again and it will be the most beautiful thing ever. it won’t be perfect and sometimes you’ll even find yourself yearning for the person who stripped you of your dignity just to prove to yourself and the world that you are capable of love. you don’t need to do this because you don’t have shit to prove to anyone.

2. it’s ok to be sad but it’s NOT ok to be out here letting go of yourself out of dependence on someone else. guess what? you will drive yourself to an early death and he will STILL be out here finding bitches to lay up with as he mourns the loss. don’t lose/gain weight, don’t let your hair start falling out. don’t do any of that bullshit. be fab and accept the lesson.

3. know that everything I’ve mentioned is shit that I’m dealing with as I type this. I’m not some all knowing being and I want to make that very clear. I don’t have the answers to questions that I am still working to resolve in my own heart but I’ll tell you this, as long as I have ears and a heart that is eternally sensitive to the tears of other women; I will be here to listen to any memory or random thought. that, to me, is what womanhood is about.

I really hope this helps.

Rif

[the20-20]

updates.

Hi All!

If you’re reading this: thank you. Pretty sure I’ve said that before but I don’t think you can ever thank anyone enough for saving you at any point. This, you, has been that for me more times than you may be comfortable with knowing. Your acknowledgement, your questions, your feedback…it has all helped me gather myself during some of my darkest hours. I will never ever forget the therapy provided for me, and hopefully for us, through the love letters and letters of love lost posted to this page. Thank you.

So, I wanted to update you on a few things. I’m so sorry that I don’t post more often. If I had more time, I would. I also have a real fear of ever overstaying my welcome. So I never want to be the old dude in the club still wearing air forces and talking about what I used to do in the 90s…even in blogging. I never want to be too much or redundant in any way. I try to post when I’m experiencing or thinking of something that I haven’t covered previously, and with the subject matter I often choose, that’s not necessarily an easy task

First things first, I’m ok. I still have to force myself out of bed to be productive sometimes but it’s become a lot easier. That’s important. I want you, specifically anyone living and dealing with MDD as well, to know that happiness is not a “lost cause.” It’s something worth spending your life fighting for. I can’t say whether or not any of you have hit bottoms rockier than mine, but I do know that if I can do it you can also. 

Someone asked me if the posts slowed up because I’ve discovered a great love of some sort…LOL, no. If anything, a great love would inspire to do more. This newfound introspective spirit has caused me more loneliness than depression ever did. I am now ok with ridding myself of those who aren’t instrumental to happiness, regardless of how long they’ve been around. I’m ok with being alone. I’m ok with making the hard decisions that my former self was not brave enough to face the outcomes of. I’m ok with reading when I actually would prefer cuddling if it means protecting my fragile nature from experiencing more stress than necessary. I haven’t always been able to say this. 

Work. When I first moved to NJ it was hard as fuck. I went from two jobs to none. As someone who’s worked since age 13, that reality nearly killed me. Not working, not being productive, not getting calls back after doing 50 apps a day almost completely took me out..but that’s the funny thing about me, nothing seems to really have the power to off me. I found pretty cool job & I’m flourishing. I’m the current top performer in my department and I feel damn good about it. 

My love life is a LOL but it’s cool. I’m somewhere in between not actually wanting that & just not wanting to jump into something only to find out that it wasn’t for me. The Universe has always done considerably well at giving me signs whenever I need them and the signs have never been anything less than apparent. Knowing this, I feel like when the time is right it will smack me like a woman on Maury who just found out that she, indeed, was not 5000% sure that Trey is lil Trey’s dad.

again, thank you. <3 

Rif :)

[the20-20]

[bound.]

If I had to give a list of my worst phobias, I think it would be a little like this:

1. Midgets/Dwarfs 2. Oversized cartoon character costumes 3. Being tied to anyone/anything after I no longer wish to be

For obvious reasons, we’re gonna focus on #3 today.

At no point in my life have I ever loved anything or anyone enough to risk my freedom for their comfort. I am a mental wanderer (just made that up) of some sorts & I am extremely fearful of making any decision that could possibly link me to anything after I no longer want any parts of it.

This is why I do not have unprotected sex. This is why I will probably never move in with some love interest. This is why I am always upfront with anyone I become involved with that my needs, happiness, & desires will never be second.

I am obsessed with the thrill of new things. New shoes, new cities, new guys, new jobs. I am also extremely impulsive…as I’m sure you’ve already gathered, this is often a recipe for disaster. Once a situation no longer benefits me in the ways I need it to, I do not see the point in staying. I had someone say to me that I act as if I don’t need anyone & like all people are replaceable…at first I felt bad but in retrospect, she was right. Well, not 100% but close. People may not be replaceable but they are, however, very much interchangeable.

Before you get to side eyeing me…let me tell you how I got this way…

The little girl who waited for someone (not just a daddy like the world loves to say) to show up as promised & they never did will grow into the woman who doesn’t even bother looking for a return on the promises made by others. Once the seed of mistrust is planted, the cycle almost never ends.

I won’t pretend as if I’m some ice queen with absolutely no feelings because that simply is not the case. I just don’t wait on the stoop for people to show up anymore. I anticipate that they won’t so when they make good on that, the blow is much more softer.

Enough about that, though. Back to the point.

I live in constant fear that if I don’t settle for life as I know it that I’ll never be happy. With the idea that there is no much thing as true happiness & contentment, just toleration & adaptation.

Adapting to the life you hate but are scared to leave because of the dangers of the unknown…

Tolerating the lackluster love that no longer excites you out of fear that you’ll never experience love again…

Growing content with the idea of dreams being visions you see while resting & not an actual life to be had…

just completely bound by all of your fears.