Sometimes I wish I could lose you again

Obviously, I'm supposed to be sleeping. I'm not. For hours now since my cousin asked, I've been craving the written word. I feel like I've been holding some unspoken feeling in the back of my throat. I get these feelings often. I've probably complained about them enough to actually be secure in the fact that I've been choking for a good long while.

Originally, I wasn't gonna blog without Gail. We had an idea for our next ones, but I'm holding onto some sort of complicated feeling. I feel like everything in my life amounts to nothing. And I think its true. I think I live for appearances. Like a drug addict, I'm just chasing a feeling and destroying myself in the process to find it.

Let me elaborate. This stems back from a conversation I had a long while ago with a friend of mine that had a really bad meth problem. Before I get back ontrack, let me side track to her. I'll abstain from her name, but I will say that she is my hero. Honestly and truly, she's one of the few women that I can look at and be honored to know her. This woman used to be a Meth Addict. From what she's told me, she was pretty bad too. What makes her my hero isn't the fact that she just overcame her addiction. A lot of people have them in this day in age. What makes her my hero is that I can look at her and absolutely know in the depth of my soul, that she will never again go back to that demon. Its not just her strength, not just her will that I admire in her, but its the grace and love that she still lives her life with.

Addicts, somewhere along the line, lose themselves, their dignity and their soul to whatever it is that drags them down. They become the shell of what used to be a functional person. Maybe she did get that far and lose that much of herself, but looking at her today, you'd never know it. She's strong and independent. She lives, works and breathes for herself, but I think more so, somewhere along the line of her addiction and her recovery, she remembered how to love herself. That's something not even functional people can do. I know that I can't... but I think that's why she's my hero.. because some day, I hope to be able to love myself the way that she loves herself. Thank you, Ames (Nickname).

Back on track! An addict only becomes an addict because they're chasing that first high. I find this to be a true enough statement because that first high, that's the best high you've ever had. Its that initial feeling of elation of something new, something different, something that makes you feel not like you. Its the very paramount of what you could ever feel off of that substance and every other high is going to pale in comparison. An addict continues their addiction, and their addiction escalates because somewhere in their mind, they're chasing down that feeling again. They want that absolute paramount of feeling that they had achieved at one time off of this substance, but what they cannot understand is they can never get that back.

I use this reference because I'm chasing a feeling inside of me. I remember what it was like to be happy. I remember what it was like to know safety and comfort for longer than a moment, a few weeks. I remember what it was like to simply love... Now.. my life is meant only to chase down that feeling again. Like an addict increasing their dosage to try and hit that euphoria... I find myself desperate to find that right amount of passion in my system. That new feeling that would make me feel like I could fly.

I fear that THAT feeling... is long since dead. And that soon, I'll just burn out in a blaze. I feel like I've been reduced to embers subtly crackling away on the last bits of oxygen and tinder.. only to be left forgotten, to burn up, and out.


Complicated feeling, like I've said. Now though, I think I've set enough out there for the universe to chew on. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I love you all. Always know that

-Mous

She took the Midnight Train goin' anywhere.

Welcome back! So its been a while since I sat down and wrote out a blog. Tragic I know! But the deal was, with Gail.. my other cohort in the “Gsquad” here at work.. that we would blog when we worked together. Apparently this means once a week. Exciting no!? So since I picked such an awesomely deep topic, it was Nehnay’s turn and I think she’s matched me for the week… So without further ado.. here we go…


Three pieces of advice you’d give your high school self. In honestly, this was actually was really hard for me. Since a lot of high school I spent running away from a lot of things, I think there were few enough times I had to stop myself and regret what I was doing. Looking back, there were probably a lot of places where I would have liked that pause button and some advice.

Tell him the truth, before it was too late. He’ll never read this blog. Never. But there was a point in time where I was hopelessly in love with someone I was spending a whole lot of time with my Sophomore year of high school. He wasn’t the most ideal person in the world but he had a great personality, he had an even better heart. He was everything that I could have wanted out of a guy. He made me laugh, he was attentive. Hell he knew I crushed on him so hard before I’d even said anything, but by the time I worked up the courage, it was beyond too late. I had fallen somewhere in the ‘best friend’ category. Somewhere in the “No Fly Zone” and while we had remained close, my chance to make him happy, to love him more than just that, had gone far, far away. I think my life would have been a shit ton different if I had just said something back then. Back when he really was mine. Sure years down the road he admitted that he had crushed on me as well, but he wanted something more solid than just that sort of high school puppy dog crush. I suppose he found it too. Now he has a wife, had a kid with her in high school. From here, he seems reasonably happy. I just wish I hadn’t missed that boat, wherever it had led to.

Be honest about your problems: ..I think that a whole lot of my masochistic phase that I have now as an adult is because back then, I wasn’t honest about my problems. I took all of that pain that I felt, all of that pressure and angst and I internalized it. I took a lot of that in and bottled it up. More so, I took all of that and I used it to made myself smaller, feel more insignificant, and I hurt myself so deeply with it. I think if I felt like there was someone I could be honest with, someone I could talk to then maybe it would have saved me. I was so fixed on being everything that was ‘okay’ that I couldn’t see that there were people there all the time that were worried about me. I was so interested in the mask that I put up that I didn’t see what it was in front of me. I didn’t see that I didn’t have to be that way, that I didn’t have to hurt myself. I think hearing that, knowing that someone knew there was something wrong inside of me, that I was lying,.. It might have stopped me from hurting myself in ways that I never thought possible, even now.

Its okay.. no matter what happens, its okay: I spent a lot of time freaking out about things. Grades, friends.. my parents. I never really stopped to believe that it was all going to be okay. I spent a lot of emotional pain on freaking out. I think just knowing somewhere that someone knew it was gonna be okay and hearing that. I think I would have smiled more. Its that knowledge of the future, that security that somewhere someone knew that it was gonna work out. My parents got divorced. Its okay. My friends were Gay, it was okay. My life felt like it was going to suck, but its okay. I think that more than anything would have lifted a whole lot off of my chest.

I’m sure there are other things around that I would have told myself. “Watch out for the slidding glass door” “It’s a mistake not to stick to college” “Watch out for that second one”… but none of those pale in comparison to those three lessons up there. Those three I think would have changed things drastically. In the end, better or worse, I’m me. Every step I’ve taken on this path has led me right where I am (Sitting next to Gail for an hour of my day). And if changing any of that meant that I wouldn’t wind up right back here, I don’t think I could change it.

I may not always like where I am in my life. Sometimes, I may down right hate myself, but I wouldn’t trade me for the world.