I miss you so much right now. It's just been four days but it feels like forever already. Actually, what makes the days feel so heavy is the looming feeling of not knowing. Not knowing where I stand and where I'm headed... not knowing if we are still on the same road or not. It's depressing and it just makes me miss you more because you always take my sadness away (regardless of whether you are the cause or not).
I miss you so much I do not know what to do with myself anymore. It has began to affect my functionality. I would break into tears at work, in the road, before I sleep, while I shower. Of course the random crying delays things so you can just imagine how many minutes I've lost trying to ugly cry quietly. The restroom has been my favorite place in the world these past days actually. It's the place I feel safest in because it's the only place I can be alone and truly be honest with my feelings (because even with my blog, I unconsciously filter some things). In front of the toilet and dripping sink, I don't have to explain my feelings. They won't judge me or pity me or tell me things I don't want to hear. I can just ugly cry and not be told I'm ugly (even if I really am)
I miss you so much and I miss being able to tell you that at the instant I feel it. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. Let me chant it in the hope that my desperation will fly my message to you wherever you are.
I hope you receive my message and if it's still in your heart to reply, I would love to hear what you have to say... whether it's an "I miss you, too" or the opposite. Because right now, I miss you so much any reply would do.
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.
I just can't say it enough. I miss you.
It's like I never learn. This isn't the first time I had to deal with "withdrawal" yet I still commit the same mistakes. I keep running back to the thing I am supposedly running away from. And that is not helping "withdrawing" one bit.
I keep myself updated any way I know how about where you are and what you're doing. I'm not sure why I want to be updated when what I should want is to forget... but deep inside I know that I just want to see a sign that you miss me, too. That you too are waiting for my next post, or upload, or tweet in the blind hope that it's about you.
But so far, my hidden agenda has brought me to more disappointment, sadness and pain. Because from all the things I see, it looks like life has become better without me. That all these posts I keep myself updated with about you is simply updating me that I am already an outdated piece of you.
It already hurts me to think about the possibility of you being capable of erasing me. So it hurts even more now that I can see proof of this dreadful thought.
I know I should stop looking. I should have learned from the past 2 or 3 times...
But I just never learn.
I've been trying to be poetic about my feelings these past few days, with the hope that with every word I type in, a little bit of the pain goes away. But this coping method has failed me so far. The only thing this blogging does is formalize my feelings. It just gives me a concrete view of the chaos that is happening inside me.
To an extent, yes, the blogging has helped me clear a few things. Writing down what I feel and then being able to reread it, makes me look at my feelings from a third person perspective. I can objectively look at my thoughts and analyze how flawed or how painful or how exaggerated some of the things I am going through are. But nothing more. It's like I'm just slapping the truth across my face.
But for those like me who have no other choice, who have no idea what else to do, we just keep doing what we are doing... even if it isn't any help. I mean, I want to talk to someone but I can't muster enough trust or comfort to even begin. Maybe if you get me drunk enough not to care, maybe I can let off some steam in front of another human being instead of my lifeless blog.
But isn't getting drunk worse than blogging? Yeah, thought so, too. Will stick to blogging then... that is until I get that desperate.
I love that I can really drive now. As in drive, drive. Drive without someone in the passenger seat constantly telling me what to do. I really love that I can drive now.
And for the past months that I have finally been bestowed with this overdue privilege, I thought of the skill as nothing but a positive thing. Can you imagine all the freedom and control I had over my life just because I could drive? I could go anywhere, anytime I wanted.
But after tonight, I have developed a tiny bit of hate for it... because it just leads me back to you. And I mean that both literally and figuratively.
My brain seriously needs an on and off switch. I can't stop thinking and it's driving me crazy! One moment my brain tells me I'm happy and I should be reassured that I'm going to be better. But by the next minute, my brain gives me all these negative thoughts... thoughts that make me want to lock myself up in a room and cry... or sometimes, just find the closest living thing and hold it, just to feel that I can still be close to something.
I'm very scared. I haven't been this terrified about something I can control. I should be able to control my thoughts, right!? But I can't. I'm so scared and I don't know what to do. For the first time in my life, I just want people to tell me what to do. I just want to know what to do next. Tell what I should do, please! I don't want to be sacred anymore. I don't. I really don't.
"Sometimes you have to grow apart to keep growing together" but you know what, sometimes you just grow apart. Period.
I haven't figured out what kind of separation is the worst - through death, through physical fights, through lies, through growing apart, etc. but I have tried to weigh the pros and cons of each one. At first you'd think being separated by death is the worst but sometimes it's the least painful, simply because you know it wasn't really your fault. You lost someone you love because of something beyond your control. Although the tough part is that the loss is permanent and there is no way to fix things again. On the other hand, you'd think being separated by misunderstanding is the easiest because by the time you part ways, you already hate each other's guts! But when you think of it, this kind of separation brings so much regrets because it was a loss you could have done something about... and didn't.
I have been very bad. And I have been doing bad things intentionally. I am quite amazed at how fun and difficult it is to be bad... since, you know, I've been "technically" good my entire life. Everything is so complicated but excitingly new!
I have never done anything illegal (and I use this term to refer to both those according to law and according to my parents, school, society, etc) so I never knew how it felt to be a "criminal." But last night, I was laughing at how wrong everything I was doing was. I was giggling! Yes, giggling with matching twinkly eyes. I kept saying out loud how no one would ever believe that I was doing what I was doing because it was so out of character! And I just couldn't stop laughing! Imagine, a regular person would have been shaking and sweating and just panicking but I was laughing like crazy and wasn't thinking of tomorrow or the next hour, even! I was so pumped up! All the adrenaline was rushing through my veins and I felt like I was the new poster girl for Cobra Starship's "Good Girls Gone Bad" song.
But honestly, what I did wasn't technically the most bad ass thing I could've done. Actually, I think most people will actually laugh at me for thinking I was so bad for what I did. But whatever, by my standards, I was already shaking hands with the devil and I was laughing as I did!
On normal days, I would be so scared of myself right now... but it appears I am not normal today. Actually, what's starting to scare me now is that this may be my new normal! Because if I did it once, I can definitely do it again... actually I want to do it again! And you know what happens if you keep doing things... it loses it's spark and you try to escalate things. And who knows... soon enough people won't be laughing at my idea of bad anymore.
Oh my, I think I'm going back to goody Andy again. So I'll just stop now and savor this bad girl thing I've got going... albeit internally.
Finally, some blog time! I think I could've posted 10 blogs already with all the thoughts I've been playing with over the past days but anyway, I won't waste any more time talking about that. On to the post!
These past weeks, I have been dealing with a lot of stress. For the most part of it, I kept saying my job was just too hard and I am not as capable as I thought I was to handle all of the responsibilities that came with the position. But now that I've detached myself from the stress by finally getting my to do list done (well, at least down to a reasonable amount of to-do's), I can actually see what the real source of stress was - me!
I've never called myself a perfectionist but I think I finally understand why people call me such. I like to get things done and not just done, but done the best way possible. And that's not the worst part actually. I am not just a perfectionist based on results, I am a perfectionist even with how I get those results. I hate mistakes. I hate it! Whenever I take two or three tries to get to my goal, I just want to flip the table and give up. But of course, I never do give up because I have this stupid fixation on proving I can do everything! See! Isn't this internal tug of war between giving up and not wanting to give up sounding so stressful already? I know there is something terribly wrong with this mindset but I can't help it! Every time I make a mistake, I get frustrated and stressed. My self esteem suddenly drops and I feel I am born to fail.