The Unknown | 2019

The bathtub is filled half way with cool water. I wanted it hot, but it must be all out. Sometimes that happens.

I try to focus on the drip drip noise that comes from the faucet but I can’t hear anything. I feel heavy and indifferent. My mind is racing, but my body is slow and forlorn. I try to focus on anything but the thoughts running rampant in my brain, but they don’t stop.

That’s the funny thing about anxiety. It doesn’t stop.

Anxiety doesn’t care that I’m a good person, or that I have goals to achieve. He doesn’t care that I have a job to go to and friends to keep up with. Anxiety doesn’t care– it just is.

I sit up in the bath and I try some deep-breathing. It helps sometimes. My body is cold and the water is slowly draining; but I don’t care. I’m slowly draining, too.

The optimist in me knows that I have the strength to conquer even the hardest days–fuck, she’s never been wrong before. What makes lately any different?

My therapist confirms that my worry stems from The Unknown, a term I’m coining for my anxiety. The Unknown is a part of me. It is my ultimate downfall and my biggest blessing.

With it; I am haphazard. Without it; I am not me.

Some days I don’t know which is worse.

I’d like to take full responsibility for how I feel because it seems like the right thing to do. For awhile I blamed my dad’s suicide, and the sexual assault, and this and that. I was hell-bent on finding someone to blame other than just letting it be what it is– a part of who I am and something I don’t have full control over. I’m not a controlling person, but Goddammit, I wish I could be in control of this.

Anxiety doesn’t have to be a negative thing, though it’s damn hard to flip the switch on something with such a depressing connotation. Manifesting something so self-debilitating and turning it into a power tool to create a better you is not something easily mastered. I won’t pretend like I have done it myself– I haven’t. But I have complete faith that it can be done; only, and only if, you allow yourself to become wholeheartedly vulnerable.

I get it. It’s hard for people to come to terms with anxiety and all it entails. It’s hard to admit when there’s a problem; and even worse, it’s hard to seek help. When you do receive help, it’s hard to accept what’s being told to you. It’s too easy to fall into the rabbit hole, constantly wondering why do I have to be like this? and why can’t I just be normal?

I guess everyone is different. I’m no expert, you know? I have no idea what the hell I’m doing most of the time. All I really know is that I go through some shit and with that comes a burning need to help others that are dealing with the same emotions I am. Not everyone is strong and level-headed. I can’t fix these people, but I can be there for them as much as they’ll allow me to be.

The water in the tub has completely drained. The air has frozen my body but I make way to grab a towel. I’m frozen, but my mind is not. She keeps going, and going, and…

I have a theory that everything happens for a reason. All the good, bad, and traumatic has a place in our lives. We aren’t always meant to know why. We aren’t always going to understand it. It’s okay to not understand. Roll with the punches, take shit at face value, allow yourself to be engulfed in whatever life hits you with.

Hm, maybe I should take my own advice?

I’m out of the tub now, sleepy and ready to rest my head.

Tomorrow is a new day, and maybe The Unknown won’t be so bad.

But even if he is, we’ll get through it.

We always do.

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My Apologies

In the new year, a lot of fresh ideas and new beginnings come to light. People are excited to go to the gym, eat healthier, become more organized, and bask in the idea that there’s a better version of themselves ready break through.

I have a different idea.

I have spent a great portion of my life, even from childhood, feeling like a burden and feeling bad for everything; like somehow my existence is a bother to those around me. Because of this; I shut myself out, I don’t talk about my feelings, and I apologize for everything.

I don’t want to be that way this year.

Feeling like a burden is a really exhausting way to live, tiptoeing through life because of the fear of being annoying or the fear of being “too much.” I tell everyone I’m sorry for “this” and “that,” and most of the time I don’t have a clue what it is that I’m sorry for. I don’t think it’s due to a lack of self-esteem or self-worth; but maybe subconsciously it is. I have a habit of thinking that all the good things that find their way into my life are bound to fail. I don’t know if thinking like this is a direct result from the trauma in my past or because I fail to have a balanced way of thinking. I don’t know if it matters.

Regardless of reasoning, I’m tired.

I’m tired of being sorry. I’m tired of thinking that I don’t deserve more. I’m tired of manifesting anxiety, but not accepting it. I’m tired of being too hard on myself. Most of all, though, I’m tired of being tired.

If there’s one thing I’ve come to know, it’s that even the most damaged or broken pieces can be fixed and healed. Even a bad habit or a bitter attitude can be mended with patience and zeal.

It’s unrealistic and foolish to think that this is something I can change overnight. It might take months or years before I don’t feel like a burden anymore. I’m going to fail. I’m going to make mistakes. I’m going to royally fuck up. The good news? I have a lot of time to get up and start over again.

I’m lucky enough to have a few people in my life that truly understand me and accept me for who I am, despite my many flaws and weird habits. When the going gets tough, I know they’ll be there. I take great comfort in knowing I don’t have to go through anything alone.

“You and everyone you know are going to be dead soon. And in the short amount of time between here and there, you have a limited amount of fucks to give. Very few, in fact. And if you go around giving a fuck about everything and everyone without conscious thought or choice—well, then you’re going to get fucked.” –Mark Manson

Lessons From a Dead Man

Someone highly important to me recently recommended I read “The Last Lecture,” by Randy Pausch. I never even heard of it, nor did I bother to see what it was about before purchasing it.

I won’t reiterate what can easily be Googled. Instead, I want to emphasize the importance of the message:

Positively overcoming obstacles and making the most out of any situation– even the tragic ones.

Randy Pausch knew he was going to die. He was well aware that he could spend the last of his days sulking in his unfortunate demise and feeling sorry for himself. That’s exactly what he didn’t do. Due to the nature of this book, I don’t want to use the word “positive” to describe it, but that’s exactly what I got from it– an overwhelming sense of positivity.

When you find yourself in turmoil, it’s easy to become engulfed in negativity. It’s easy to ask dead-end questions.

“Why did this happen to me?”

“What did I do to deserve this?”

For a long time, I dwelled in my sorrow. I made excuses for why things weren’t getting better. I became complacent with my self-destruction because it was comfortable for me. The less I had to think about the root of my problems, the easier it was to ignore them.

I don’t know if I have a definitive answer as to how I got myself out of the mess I made for myself. I wouldn’t expect it to help you either– we are all vastly different individuals, set on different paths with varying degrees of hardships. My answer may not be your answer.

I will say that I woke up one day incredibly tired of the way my life was panning out– after having been in the hospital for complications with my anti-depressants, experiencing sleep paralysis nightly, completely emotionless– I knew I had to make a change.


In the ever-evolving world of social media, it’s hard to make positive changes in our lives when we are constantly reminded of what we don’t have. I pretended like social media was helping me in a positive manner, but really, it was destroying my self-esteem. It’s easy to lose yourself in the mess of the world wide web. It’s easy to forget what you do have when you’re surrounded by images of things you don’t.

Differentiate what is real and what is not– only then will you find peace.

I think a majority of my unhappiness stemmed from Facebook and Instagram because I was not emotionally secure. I was outwardly happy, but inside I was a mess. I was not confident. I was not proud. I was letting my past and the struggles I had faced dictate my every move. The image I had yearned for was not realistic. It was not me.

So I cut back, like a smoker trying to reduce the amount of packs she smokes per day. It sounds ridiculous, but it’s true– social media is addictive. I spent so much time trying to keep up with everyone elses’ lives because I knew it distracted me from my own.

Maybe not completely, maybe not a lot, but I did cut back.

And just like that, I was happier.


When I made the decision to move away for college, I had been broken up with my on-again-off-again boyfriend for a few months. I knew I couldn’t have made that decision while dating him. Moving away was something I needed to do so I could grow as a human being, so when we got back together again– and became engaged– I knew it wasn’t going to work and I knew it wasn’t for the right reasons for either of us. I loved him, but I loved myself too, and I knew this was something I needed to do alone.

So I did.

I moved.

And along the way, I found myself and I found the things I knew I needed– self-love, ambition, and a drive for happiness and well-being. I slipped up along the way, but that’s fine– good, actually. Everything that has happened can be chalked up as a learning experience, a lesson, and maybe even a laugh.


Randy Pausch made a valuable point:

“We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand.”

Truth be told, life can throw us some pretty shitty, inconveniencing, nasty shit. It’s what we do with it that means the most.

One year ago I was stuck, but I was fortunate enough to know it didn’t have to remain that way. I didn’t have to stay in my situation if it made me unhappy. I was free to live life how I wanted to, despite what anyone else thought of it.

You know the cool thing about that?

You can too.

You are not shackled to your past, or your problems, or your insecurities. You have just as much right to live fully and freely as everyone else. What others think of your passions or dreams is none of your business. After all, this is your life. Do what makes you happy.

If a dying man can do that, we all can.

Be good, do good, and remember that everything you want out of life is attainable; and if nothing else– know that I am rooting for you.

We need you.

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