Monday 6 August 2018

"On this life that we call homeThe years go fast and the days go so slowThe days go so slow, the days go slow"
Feeling very much this.

Life these days seems like a big push for something else - something bigger, something better that I haven't found yet.  It's that push and pull of contentment versus wondering/wandering/wishing. Where am I? Why do I feel lost?

Every year feels like I'm moving from one phase of life to the next. It's hard for someone who doesn't like change, yet I feel that change stirring so deep within me. Unsatisfied with the present. Needing to move on to the next. Small changes work for a time and then all of a sudden everything needs to shift again.

I'm not where I want to be in life. Work is boring. It's always boring. I'm continually trying to shake things up to be some kind of better - some kind of great. But eventually I get this itchy feeling of monotony, and I realize that the big change I thought I made wasn't that big at all.  Admin is admin is admin. Completely unsatisfying. What the hell am I supposed to do? Where is the next big journey and how do I get out of this?

Next big journey sounds funny because I don't even like big, large movements like that. I like to ponder on the small until I'm comfortable and then work my way up the ladder. Shit. Maybe that's why I'm bored. I think too much for too long. JUST DO IT! ...wait do what?

m o t h e r h o o d.

That's the next, best great.

But the journey toward it feels molasses like. I am wading through this slow, laborious pool and everything around me is useless, boring, unnecessary. All I want is to be a mom. All else is lost on me. I am shedding my skin again: leaving my twenties and all that went with it for something new. Twenty-nine is my trans-formative year. I am transfixed on the prize: motherhood.

How do I commit to a journey of joy? I can't go through my days thinking none of this is good enough. There is good somewhere here. I just have to find it.

journey, journey, journey lead me.  

Wednesday 28 March 2018

I wonder if having a private blog will make me write better or worse? In the last few years, even in my darkest moments, I was writing for some unknown reader. The blog is private now, and there really is no one else here but me. That's supposed to make me write better right?

Life lately has been a big roller coaster of crazy. Mostly I'm trying to navigate who I am in my late, late twenties in the hopes of being one and at peace with myself in my early thirties. I don't think I want to question truth and friendships and loyalty after this phase in my life. I want to consider and ponder and figure it out now so that later down the line, there's no need to reassess. I should know who I am by then.

Is that true?

Nineteen year old Praxis was so naive, thinking that she'd have it all figured out by now. Oh my gosh, I don't. I feel like I'm a little bit older than what I wanted to be in this phase of my life. I wish I figured this all out a few years back. I wish I navigated these waters ages ago. "these." "this." What I mean is, I don't want to be considering friendships anymore. I just want to let go of the bad ones, be alright with the so/so ones, and hold on tight to the good ones. The good ones should be so good there is no doubt. I should be able to count them on one hand. Am I deconstructing this too much?

I think its because I am deeply scared by 2017. Previous posts in this blog show just that. What a shit year. What a shitty time to experience. Heartbreak on heartbreak on heartbreak. Miguel the worst. Pam the second. Everything else surrounding that just adding to it. I felt ruthless letting go of Pam. Especially since she's family and even more so because of everything I did for them. I'm still just working through those feelings and it feels embarrassing to still be talking about this months later. I don't think I've ever properly processed this on my own though. Lots of little talks to people and then moving on. Nothing huge here with myself.

I have to wonder why it matters?

Why can't I just move on to better things? I need to let go of the crap to make room for the good. I can only get better if I move forward.

I do feel like I'm getting there...I think. Lots of triggers have calmed down.I don't think about negative things as often as I used to. Time really does heal. I feel like I am healing.

But then today, when I open this, feeling that I didn't know what to type, look at what comes out... a rambling mess about pain.

Do I keep this blog as a reminder and get triggered every time I open it? Do I use it to help me move on? Do I delete all the negative old crap and continue writing as if nothing ever happened? Do I start a brand new blog with a new name and give myself a fresh start? That sounds the most promising, but Proceed, Praxis has such a nice ring to it.

Lots and lots of thoughts.

Pre-post I was calm and good, but now I feel a little knot of anxiety in my chest. Woah man, you think this place is toxic?

I'm going to go back to my original thought, up there to try and even this out a bit. What I was trying to get to is this: I just want to be happy and healthy, with my husband, in our new home and pregnant with our child. I want a baby more and more and more as each day passes and I want that feeling to be good and surrounded by good people whom I love and I know without a doubt truly love me back. Doesn't feel like that much to ask.

 

Wednesday 10 January 2018

When a deep injury is done us, we never recover until we forgive.
- Alan Paton 


thinking thinking thinking
feeling feeling feeling 

almost done. 

Thursday 30 November 2017

I still feel a lot of anger inside of me. I know from last time that eventually it will subside as time passes, but the days feel so heavy with this rage living inside of me.  The days feel so long. I'm not enjoying them. Maybe that's a sweeping statement... maybe it's not. I just don't feel happy.

Strange. Alien.

I feel so trapped inside my emotions that I can't seem to even put the words together to demonstrate how I'm feeling. It's all just jumbly, messy, tangled up strings of anger where the balls of string are just so damn knotted up that there's really no point untangling them. That's what my chest feels like. Heavy. Tight. Alien.

I'm trying to remember what it was like to be optimistic. I'm trying hard to stop this from taking over me and ruining the person I once was. I don't want this to be some turning point that I'll look back on and say -- mhm. that's when I went mad. Mad in all sense of the word -- angry, crazy, lost. Fuck I hate seeing these words on my screen, they seem so foreign. Anyone remember when I used to blog about fucking restaurants? and good vibes? and loving people? That's all gone now too... or at least buried. Alien.

There are people who ask me how I'm doing. I think they actually care. Sometimes I word vomit out everything and talk about how hurt I am. How faithful, loyal and true I am, and how despite all that I've been burned. How unfair I think it is. Sometimes I don't say anything and shrug my shoulders. Sometimes I smile and say I'm fine. All of it is true. All of it is shit. Alien.

Why can't I learn to let this all go? Leave people behind me that deserve it. Forgive others too. Period. Question mark? Pause. How do I do this again? Wondering if I ever felt a time similar to this fiasco and wondering how I dealt with it. Did I do this in the sixth grade when that bully really hurt my feelings and I stood up to her? Did I do this freshman year when my friendship circles changed and I fell in love and fell out of it and I swore I've never been more hurt? Did I do this in College when I felt lost and lonely and that I had no real friends nearby? Have I dealt with pain before?
Not sure. Alien.

This is the point in the blog where I usually start to turn things around and say something positive. "insert sunshine and happiness cliche here." Fuck I don't have one to say. I'm still angry. If I lay it all out here word for word -- the entire story starting with "once upon a time..." and ending with "and then she lived happily ever after." you think that would help? Will that untie some knots? Who knows? It's all fucking alien. 

Monday 6 November 2017

Bye, bitch.

I'm not going to let you ruin my sunshine.
Even when you worm your way through the mud and up into my air.
Even when you wiggle and squeal your deafening, dull noises
Even when you try to make yourself big to block out the light

It's not going to happen.

I'm not going to let you ruin my sunshine
Even when the air feels thick around me, asphyxiating my throat
Even when the ether evaporates prickling my skin
Even when the storm clouds pass overhead stonewalling the sun

It's not going to happen.

I'm not going to let you ruin my sunshine
When my day begins and the light breaks through my window
When my eyes open and his are the first thing I see
When my dreams disperse and I'm hit with reality

It's not going to happen.

I'm not going to let you ruin my sunshine
Because I deserve more
Because I feel better
Because I am the antithesis of you. The very opposite.

You're not going to happen.
Never now
Never then
Never again.
Not ruining my sunshine.

Thursday 13 July 2017

Maybe I'm feeling all broken inside too.
Maybe I smother you with love too much that you take it for granted.
Maybe it's nothing special anymore.

How do I continue giving you my all if I feel like it's not even working?
Am I over thinking this?

Some days I just don't believe you.

You're broken inside, same as me.
I convince myself that I'm healed but I'm not.

Your depression irks me.

Because I don't know how to help anymore.
Because time has made my normal ails useless.
Because last time you sought solace elsewhere.

It's like I don't trust you
...for some things.
most things I do.

Like my life?
but Not my happiness.
Like my safety?
but Not my security.

Oh my love for you runs deep.

but somewhere inside something feels off.

I wish you never fucked with me the way you did.
How do I heal?

Sunday 25 June 2017

m e d i c i n e.

Its Monday morning and already I'm feeling overwhelmed. Lots of bits and pieces swirling around my desk, and none of them more important than the other. None of them are urgent either, so my desire to complete them has waned. I'm not into it right now guys. I'm just not.

Thinking about Saturday night and wondering how drunk I was and what I said to what people. I've honestly been making an effort to pay more attention to my drinking -- trying not to drink too much too soon etc. I let go on Saturday night, or I forgot to pay attention - not sure which one, and now I'm wondering how many secrets I spilled and to whom. Do you black out when you drink? I'm not sure if I do, but I know that I remember very little of the night. It's kind of scary to have those black holes in my memory. Who did I speak to and why? Will they remember what I said? Did I seem genuine? Entitled? Sad? Does it even matter?

I can see that this blog is me sounding sad and melancholy. Truthfully, that's how I'm feeling these days. This 28 year old version of me is a little lost, a little insecure, a little trite. A lot bitchy. I'm just not into you or anyone else right now. Everything feels so d u l l .

I'm wondering what that means for me. What's the life shift I need to make so that everything feels better again?

Last year must've been some kind of magic because I was so ZEN. I was happy and content and excited for the future. One little shit storm happens and there goes the magic.

Life experiences really do shape you -- good ones, bad ones, ugly ones. I'm definitely a different person now. I think people are noticing it too and wondering if they've done something to make me feel this way. Some have, most haven't. and I'm sure that it's all really stemming from me. The hesitance, the hard exterior, the drinks - it's all me.

Some of it is you though -- the loyalty, the holding me up, the kindness, the conversations, the protection. These are the things I'm looking for in the people that love me. These are the things I'm looking for to help put me back together.

I'm a mess today, but maybe I won't be so tomorrow.

"On this life that we call home The years go fast and the days go so slow The days go so slow, the days go slow" Feeling very mu...