Here are 7 words I thought I'd always be above saying;
I've slightly lost myself in a relationship.
I thought it was impossible for me to feel so comfortable with someone that I'd lose sight of my own self-actualization. Feeling heard, loved and like I'm on a team with Willem has had a weird effect on me and the strong independent woman I aim to become. I've been so excited about us that I forgot to continually seek fulfillment in my work and life. Whenever I was unhappy with my work or school, I would lean into him. He would help me to feel better and even challenge me to try new things but I wouldn't take the advice. I was satisfied enough that he believed in me.
The other day he asked me, "What's the one thing you want to do before you leave Chicago?" I didn't have a vivid answer for him. I gave myself moments to think and decided on a one woman show or a movie I write with my friends. Upon saying that, I thought about how I don't have a group a friends that I could make a movie with. Before we started dating, I wasn't really a "hang out" kind of gal. I had great friends but I always felt like we needed to be doing something if we were going to hang out. If we weren't, I would just rather be alone because I didn't want to have to try and be super social or entertaining. When I began dating him, I wanted to be with him all the time. I just couldn't get enough. I enjoyed entertaining him. As I got more comfortable with him, it was less about entertaining and more about just existing with him. He accepted me for every weird thing I was and every not super interesting word that I said. This had helped me realize that my friends feel the same way. The "having to entertain" came from my own insecurity, not they're need from me to be entertaining. Because I've spent honest time with him, I've learned that hanging with real friends means being chill and not trying to prove anything. But now on nights that he isn't available, I search through my phone and feel bad about asking any of my friends to hang out because I feel like I've abandoned them and I'm now just coming to them because he's not there.
His question also made me think about how I'm not doing/creating any work that fulfills me which makes me lean more to him. I'm a part of many different projects right now but I'm not looking at them as opportunities for growth. I used to look at former projects things that help make me and my art better. Now I've stopped focusing on that and only focus on getting the work done so I can relax. This is a simple mental switch that can help not only my art but also our relationship. Leaning on him too much for fulfillment and happiness is a huge no-no in any relationship but especially with the impending foreclosure of ours as we know it. (Oh yeah, he's moving to L.A in August for those who don't know.) I feel like I need to find my personal happiness even more because of this.
It's spring break and he's about to leave for over 5 days to visit family and some other fun stuff. During that time, I'm challenging myself to re-connect with my wants and needs. I'm re-evaluating my happiness, the happiness that is separate to the happiness of our partnership. Self-Actualization has always been my goal and being in love shouldn't stop that. I'll keep you updated.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
The Trap
At 2pm today, I entered the Student Health Center to figure out why I've had a noticeable loss of appetite. At 3pm, I exited with the knowledge that I am, in fact, depressed. At some point, the doctor even said, "Yeah you should be seeing a counselor, these [results to the depression test] are pretty severe." This isn't a long post. It's just a documentation of this day for me. I've been feeling rather depressed but blamed it on myself. Saying, "If I could just get up and go do something, or write something or just look on the brightside, I'd feel better. It's my fault for feeling this. I have no reason to feel this way."
This is the real trap of depression. There is no reason for it. It's a chemical imbalance. It isn't the person's fault but most people blame themselves anyway.
Moving forward, I'm going to need counseling and possibly medication but honestly just knowing that it may not be entirely my fault and that I have a strong support system around me, makes it easier already.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
This is the real trap of depression. There is no reason for it. It's a chemical imbalance. It isn't the person's fault but most people blame themselves anyway.
Moving forward, I'm going to need counseling and possibly medication but honestly just knowing that it may not be entirely my fault and that I have a strong support system around me, makes it easier already.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
Friday, January 1, 2016
2014: The Last Year I Was Innocent
Wowie kapowie. I haven't written one of these in a while. Some say I'm happy. Some say I'm busy. I say, I just haven't had an inspiring idea. With the year 2015 behind me, I thought back to when it was only just beginning.
2014 was a year that shaped my existence as more than any other year. I moved to Chicago, Taylor Swift released 1989, and I felt the largest heartbreak of my life so far, the death of a former best friend. 11 months of that year I was young and excited. For the first 3 months of the year, I was re-vamping myself, in the 4th month, I put my attention and efforts towards accomplishing my dream of moving to Chicago, by the 8th month, I accomplished that dream, but during the 12th month, all that happiness and overwhelming joy faded. Dave took his life and I wore the pain on me like a raggedy coat for months.
2014 was the last year that I was innocent. It was the last year that I thought heartbreak was only caused by a boy breaking up with you. It was the last year I just kind of grasped the concept of loss, instead of fully understanding it. It was my last year as a girl.
I also left my old flame in 2014. Charles and I on the last day of 2014 decided that we wouldn't speak anymore. A decision that felt like a mere scratch compared to the loss of Dave but was still a loss in and of itself.
I didn't want 2015 to come. I wanted the exhilaration of accomplishment back. I wanted my old flame back. I wanted Dave back.
2015 came anyway. I was in Dayton on a dog hair covered couch next to friends that adored me. I counted down. I kissed my friend. I sipped my beer. I played the part of New Years Eve Party Goer to a T.
My womanhood seemed to truly begin that night. With no romantic attachments, no job, an understanding of grief, and a new red lipstick, I returned to Chicago to continue what I started in 2014, my adult life. I went back to school early to be a part of the Comedy New Stew directed by Anne Libera. At a time when being funny was the least appetizing, I tried to throw myself into the work. We had rehearsals in the morning then had the rest of the day to ourselves. Knowing the rest of the day typically resulted in me laying in my bed sleeping or crying, I knew I could escape the grief in the morning. I wasn't thinking about Dave or the sound the rocks made when they hit his casket. I was thinking about Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table. I was thinking about delivery and timing. I was thinking about ensemble and stage picture.
The rest of the year followed suit. I worked and worked and worked. Eventually, it wasn't to numb, it was because I loved it. I was doing theater, stand up, improv and writing sketch. I loved the person I was becoming and life I was leading.
Early in 2015, I had made the decision to stop just having sex and start having a real relationship. The kind that doesn't stop texting you because they found other person to bang or because they got what they wanted and moved on. I wanted a friend that also wanted to kiss my face and touch my butt. I wasn't settling for any less so that gave me even more incentive to keep working and creating.
In March of 2015, Willem Aloe asked me, at a rooftop party, if I wanted to "do something sometime." My response verbatim was, "Yeah! I eat sometimes!" With a response that barely answered the original question in a coherent way, I put my number in his phone. He later specified, "By 'do something', I meant like a date." Playing it cool yet again, I responded with nonchalant, "I mean I don't really know you yet so I mean we'll see but yeah cool." As much as I thought this boy was the shit, I knew that I can't throw myself into him like I had with others. I had learned better.
Our first date was simply walking around Chicago. We walked around for a couple of hours then got chilly and sat in the lobby of my dorm talking, laughing, watching fart videos, until 3am. With a hug goodnight, I went to my room with that Cloud 9 feeling I thought I had forgotten. Over the next 3 months, we began seeing each other. After a brief intermission during the summer, we became official in September.
I never thought I'd finish 2015 living my life WITH someone. A person that looks at me like my shit don't stink. The man who calms and excites me at the same time. Someone who I love because he's Willem Freakin' Aloe and doesn't ever apologize for that.
My relationship aside, 2015 continued to be a great year. I became a tour guide. I started my film career. I got cast in Freq Out (a mini-dream since 2014). I've been able to really explore all sides of the performing arts. I've learned what I like and what I don't like. What I'm good at and what I want to get better at. You know, typical self-actualizing human stuff.
My career will soon take me away from Chicago and lead me West. Before I try to tackle the City of Angels, I'm going to spend my early 20s here, working, learning, improving, so that when I get out there I'm as close to ready as I'll ever be.
With all of this success and happiness, came doubt and fear and lots of tears. Though I was overall happy, there are still days when you just need to sit in the shower and play Hurt by Johnny Cash on repeat until the tears stop. The sad days are a small price to pay for the fantastic ones. That is a sentence I need to have tattooed on me. Probably not in those exact words....YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
There are still moments, hours, days that I feel the pain of losing Dave. Missing him is a feeling I'll never get over. As the regret is taking its sweet time to leave my brain, I still find peace in the passage of time. The grief pops up less often now and even if it does, I'm able to silence it with a good memory or reminder that I loved him the best I knew how.
I didn't want 2015 to happen but it did. It did and I'm better for it. Now 2016 is upon me and I welcomed it with much wider arms. New year doesn't mean a new me. It means a me-er me. I'm slowly becoming a woman that I can be proud of, through all the heartbreak and the success. Both work together.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
2014 was a year that shaped my existence as more than any other year. I moved to Chicago, Taylor Swift released 1989, and I felt the largest heartbreak of my life so far, the death of a former best friend. 11 months of that year I was young and excited. For the first 3 months of the year, I was re-vamping myself, in the 4th month, I put my attention and efforts towards accomplishing my dream of moving to Chicago, by the 8th month, I accomplished that dream, but during the 12th month, all that happiness and overwhelming joy faded. Dave took his life and I wore the pain on me like a raggedy coat for months.
2014 was the last year that I was innocent. It was the last year that I thought heartbreak was only caused by a boy breaking up with you. It was the last year I just kind of grasped the concept of loss, instead of fully understanding it. It was my last year as a girl.
I also left my old flame in 2014. Charles and I on the last day of 2014 decided that we wouldn't speak anymore. A decision that felt like a mere scratch compared to the loss of Dave but was still a loss in and of itself.
I didn't want 2015 to come. I wanted the exhilaration of accomplishment back. I wanted my old flame back. I wanted Dave back.
2015 came anyway. I was in Dayton on a dog hair covered couch next to friends that adored me. I counted down. I kissed my friend. I sipped my beer. I played the part of New Years Eve Party Goer to a T.
My womanhood seemed to truly begin that night. With no romantic attachments, no job, an understanding of grief, and a new red lipstick, I returned to Chicago to continue what I started in 2014, my adult life. I went back to school early to be a part of the Comedy New Stew directed by Anne Libera. At a time when being funny was the least appetizing, I tried to throw myself into the work. We had rehearsals in the morning then had the rest of the day to ourselves. Knowing the rest of the day typically resulted in me laying in my bed sleeping or crying, I knew I could escape the grief in the morning. I wasn't thinking about Dave or the sound the rocks made when they hit his casket. I was thinking about Dorothy Parker and the Algonquin Round Table. I was thinking about delivery and timing. I was thinking about ensemble and stage picture.
The rest of the year followed suit. I worked and worked and worked. Eventually, it wasn't to numb, it was because I loved it. I was doing theater, stand up, improv and writing sketch. I loved the person I was becoming and life I was leading.
Early in 2015, I had made the decision to stop just having sex and start having a real relationship. The kind that doesn't stop texting you because they found other person to bang or because they got what they wanted and moved on. I wanted a friend that also wanted to kiss my face and touch my butt. I wasn't settling for any less so that gave me even more incentive to keep working and creating.
In March of 2015, Willem Aloe asked me, at a rooftop party, if I wanted to "do something sometime." My response verbatim was, "Yeah! I eat sometimes!" With a response that barely answered the original question in a coherent way, I put my number in his phone. He later specified, "By 'do something', I meant like a date." Playing it cool yet again, I responded with nonchalant, "I mean I don't really know you yet so I mean we'll see but yeah cool." As much as I thought this boy was the shit, I knew that I can't throw myself into him like I had with others. I had learned better.
Our first date was simply walking around Chicago. We walked around for a couple of hours then got chilly and sat in the lobby of my dorm talking, laughing, watching fart videos, until 3am. With a hug goodnight, I went to my room with that Cloud 9 feeling I thought I had forgotten. Over the next 3 months, we began seeing each other. After a brief intermission during the summer, we became official in September.
I never thought I'd finish 2015 living my life WITH someone. A person that looks at me like my shit don't stink. The man who calms and excites me at the same time. Someone who I love because he's Willem Freakin' Aloe and doesn't ever apologize for that.
My relationship aside, 2015 continued to be a great year. I became a tour guide. I started my film career. I got cast in Freq Out (a mini-dream since 2014). I've been able to really explore all sides of the performing arts. I've learned what I like and what I don't like. What I'm good at and what I want to get better at. You know, typical self-actualizing human stuff.
My career will soon take me away from Chicago and lead me West. Before I try to tackle the City of Angels, I'm going to spend my early 20s here, working, learning, improving, so that when I get out there I'm as close to ready as I'll ever be.
With all of this success and happiness, came doubt and fear and lots of tears. Though I was overall happy, there are still days when you just need to sit in the shower and play Hurt by Johnny Cash on repeat until the tears stop. The sad days are a small price to pay for the fantastic ones. That is a sentence I need to have tattooed on me. Probably not in those exact words....YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
There are still moments, hours, days that I feel the pain of losing Dave. Missing him is a feeling I'll never get over. As the regret is taking its sweet time to leave my brain, I still find peace in the passage of time. The grief pops up less often now and even if it does, I'm able to silence it with a good memory or reminder that I loved him the best I knew how.
I didn't want 2015 to happen but it did. It did and I'm better for it. Now 2016 is upon me and I welcomed it with much wider arms. New year doesn't mean a new me. It means a me-er me. I'm slowly becoming a woman that I can be proud of, through all the heartbreak and the success. Both work together.
Thanks for listening. Come back for more.
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