Deep Into The Foxhole, Lifestyle Rants, Soul-Searching Rants

To be.

I am a lot of things.

I won’t list said “things” because I could be here all damn day hitting you with an epic “about me” essay, but obviously one of the main things I am is a shameless over-sharer. Let’s face it, I’m a fan of talking about myself and of my life- the good the bad the ugly. At times I question my ways, I lose my “writing mojo”, I become insecure and I stop writing altogether because I assume my content-choice comes off as boring, or annoying, or useless unless of course you’re in need of a great DIY tutorial on “How To Be a Hot Fucking Mess in Life”. Also I hate coming off as cocky even though I know it’s not because I’m self-centered or full of myself. I’m just a super-flawed, torn up, highlighted-all-over, bent-pages, broken-spine kind of open book when it comes to me and the reckless havoc-wreaking circus that is my mind.

I find myself fascinating ok? I admit it. But fascinating like some peculiar new species who’s behavior and character is so fucking off that scientists can’t quite figure out how to categorize it within the animal kingdom. You know. If anything, I don’t see myself the way others have claimed to see me.. I don’t see pretty. I don’t see smart. I don’t see talented. At least not as much as I should. Atleast not most days. Most days are dreadfully difficult in the department of “loving myself”. I don’t know how to take a compliment without looking down at the ground and getting immediately super uncomfortable and I’ve waited TEN YEARS to decide if I wanted a wedding of any kind, mostly because I don’t want people to watch me walk down an aisle and then I’m not sure what side I’ll be facing when we do our vows because if anyone takes pictures of my “bad side” (I hate my profile) I might just die. I can’t deal with people taking random, unprepared pictures of me because I’m not photogenic unless I’m in control of my selfie and I just don’t want to be the center of any kind of attention.

I’m my worst critic and I’m hard… I mean hard on myself. Sure, some days I wake up feeling skinny and my skin is crystal clear and I just feel badass and boss as fuck. But those are usually dark stormy days. Seriously, I thrive on dark stormy days…it’s become a pattern between the weather and my petty soul. Does this happen to anyone else in the world?! I guess when the rest of the world is down and out, I find the room to shine within myself. I know I sound like a psychopath. I know…

You wouldn’t believe how complicated I am internally and it’s exactly that which I find “fascinating” about myself – how internally complicated I am and the intricacy of how my brain is wired. All the while, finding ways to keep my external shit together so that I can at the very least, pretend to be able to function like a decent human being.

It’s hard work being me. Every damn day. It’s hard. I try to remind myself of the bigger picture, of the little things, of the simple things, of my kids and those who I know are here for me and love me. But the fact I’m almost 32 and I still haven’t figured myself out, tends to affect me in a deep, deep place that no one else can ever reach.

My behavior is so fucking confusing and erratic. My character is so fucking strange. My morals are all kinds of twisted. I don’t know how to describe myself anymore but back to that whole “new species of an animal” thing I’m basically a hyena on crack dressed as a flamingo and with an alter-ego of a tiger mixed with a hippo with a caffeine-only diet and an allergy to daylight and humans.

But I wonder. And I wonder if anyone else wonders. Is this what I’m supposed to do? Am I meant to try to figure myself out? Am I meant to put my life beneath this microscope slide in order to analyze and unravel what makes me, me? In the greater context of all things- is there time to spare in life to use for the purpose of finding or discovering myself? What’s the fucking point?

I feel like the last few years of my life have been about understanding myself and digging through my own rubble in search of answers to justify my choices, my experiences, my failures… in search of closure from a childhood that no-doubt scarred me and contributed in so many ways to who and what I’ve become. Essentially, a disaster coated with iridescent glitter and larger than life sunglasses.

And honestly, I don’t know that any of it matters anymore. I don’t know if there will ever be closure or justification or answers or resolutions because like…the damage is fucking done! I currently am who I am and I don’t know if there’s any sense in peeling the endless layers of an onion that will surely only bring more tears and unclarity. Ok I just called myself an onion. Now I know I’m a lost case.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to understand anything anymore. I don’t want answers to these unanswerable questions I’ve been dealing with since I was a little girl. I don’t want to know if I’m traumatized or if I’m bipolar or if I’m not well, anymore. I don’t want to know if I’m ever going to forgive myself for my mistakes or if I’m ever going to be able to make up for lost time or lost moments.

I’m fucking exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually- exhausted.

I just want to LET GO and LIVE. I want to rid myself of all the horrors that sometimes keep me up at night. I want to SILENCE the what if’s. I want to lay to REST the woulda-coulda-shouldas. I want to simply BE.

I want to BE ME. Whoever that may be. I just want to be. Every day. I want to freely, fully, literally, actually, fiercely- BE.

Happiest of Mondays, friends. May we all find the strength and the will, to BE.

15 thoughts on “To be.”

    1. Now that I posted this comment in the wrong area and it sounds rude as hell…. I can relate to your current feeling/mindset. When I get there, I usually write about it too. It doesn’t always last for me, and re-reading my words doesn’t always help me get back to that place but there is a sense of calm that washes over me knowing at one point I was level headed and not so wound up.
      I’ve been feeling this way lately – and I need to find time to get the words out. Mainly, I’m so stressed and confused I’m not stressed and confused anymore. I just have felt numb.
      More later… Hope you’re enjoying BEing. .xo.


  1. Loved the bit about the hyena-flamingo-hippo-tiger. Sometimes animals are more relatable than humans, who woulda think it? Sometimes I feel like other people know us better than we know ourselves. But when they give compliments, they all blend together and mean a little less each time because we think, internally, we know the truth about ourselves. Maybe we don’t. Maybe all the positive blog comments and in-person compliments we’ve ever received are actually true and that is who we are, and we have to believe it. I don’t know where I’m going with this but regardless of what Susan (I’m catching on now) thinks, you’re awesome.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. you’ve def caught on my friend, LOL and yes animals are more relatable. Except cats. To hell with the felines. All of em. Actually- to Mars with em. Because what if I end up in hell stuck with all the dead cats for all of eternity. I just can’t see that working out. Ok that was dark. You’re not surprised lol, I can tell. Thanks Paul!!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I love your blog because you are honest and you are you. It makes your blog unique. Idk if this helps at all, but I have the tendency to over analyze myself, others, everything happening around me. I’m 29 & I don’t know jack shit about anything, including myself.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ya know every day you analyze a little bit more of yourself you come one step closer to understanding…Most of use are in someway products of our past. You my friend are still young on your journey towards no longer allowing those events to have any power or control….I read a meme once that really spoke to me….”It wasn’t that she was changing, it was that she was becoming herself”
    I know it is often emotionally fucking exhausting and you just wanna go oh fuck this noise I am done with this bullshit but ya keep pushing on because on day the only horrors that are going to keep you up at night is wondering if someone left the fucking toilet seat up again and if you are going to get a cold arse when you sit on it in the dark!!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. LOL I LOVE YOU JAD. So much! THank you. You’re completely right!!! I know for sure we are all products and by-products of all the fuckeries that sum up our lives… some of us just DWELL on the things more than others. I’m no exception. I’m too deep for my own good. And like I’m DONE with the deep shit. I wanna be Shallow LOL that sounds horrible but seriously- I want to stop giving a shit about the mysteries so that I can live in the NOW and enjoy it ya know?! Of course you know! I know you do. Hugs friend!

      Liked by 1 person

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