A New Leaf

It's been a year and a half since I posted on this blog, but not for lack of caring, or lack of wanting to. I still want to blog. I'm now going to be blogging again.

Before I stopped posting, I was posting less and less, and less. I can't pinpoint exactly when it started because it wasn't a sudden thing, it wasn't a certain moment. It happened slowly. Bit by bit, I stopped.... stopped everything. I stopped writing, I stopped reading, I stopped cooking, I stopped caring about school, but most importantly, I stopped loving, and I nearly stopped caring.

This blog was one of the first things to go, because no one who read it would hold me accountable. No one would send me a concerned email, and I knew that. Then I stopped writing entire. It was a solitary activity. No one would notice. Slowly, I began to hate myself, and stopped doing things that  made me happy. I knew I didn't deserve to be happy. I knew I didn't deserve to waste my time on frivolous activities that weren't actually productive. I withdrew from my family, from my friends, even though I was having really intense social cravings. I wanted friends more than anything in the world, but I pushed away the ones I had, and I couldn't make new ones - I didn't deserve it, I didn't need it, I'm socially awkward, I get anxious in social situations: I had every excuse in the book playing through my head, constantly.


I still cared for everyone, in my heart, but in my actions, I may as well have been a stranger, or worse. I was even driving a wedge between Jeffrey and I. We started arguing. I was nasty towards him. I'd say mean things, try to get him angry with me, provoke him until finally, he would get angry, and then, when I realized I hurt him, I would shatter. I'd cry, and I'd revert back to the tiny child I had once been. I would crawl into the smallest, darkest corner of the room and isolate myself to get myself under control. He, knowing that small corners are my safe-spaces, would get concerned - Had he hurt me that badly? - and he'd crawl into the closet or under the desk alongside me, and rock me, and let me know he wasn't going anywhere. He'd tell me he loved me, apologize for his part in the argument, apologize for upsetting me.

We argued a while back, a couple weeks ago, I can't remember over what, but I remember trying to think of something to say to make him angry, and I remember realizing, all of a sudden, what I was doing. I hadn't been doing it on purpose, and suddenly I was aware. The whole argument is a blur now, besides that one tiny moment, but I ended up opening up a whole lot that day to Jeffrey. There were a lot of tears and I crawled up under my desk twice, but both times I crawled out on my own, and I made a decision. I know it's February, a little late for New Year's Resolutions, but I'm making one anyways.

I am going to spend this year getting myself back. I'm not going to push people out. I'm not going to be mean to the people I love most, and I'm going to get back to taking care of myself, and my mental health.

When I was in high school, I did my nails every day. I shaped them, I buffed and polished them, and I painted them. Every day, I did my nails. I didn't do it because I like having nice nails (although I do like that too). I did it because I found going through those motions to be very theraputic. But for over a year after I moved out (the second time) I didn't even own a single one of my nail supplies. No buffer, no nail file, no nail polish. I mentioned that to a friend a few days ago, when I was just getting back to painting my nails, and she said "Wow. I don't even know what your hands would look like if they weren't done. I can't picture it."

So this is me, turning over my new leaf. I'm going to get back to being the person I like being, rather than someone I hate. I'm going to be me again.