Well it’s come! My one year anniversary with WordPress. *clinks glass*
I’m having a hell of a time trying to figure out what kind of grand gesture is appropriate for such an occasion, but since I am very anti-climactic, I thought I would just take a brief drive down memory lane and perhaps end with what lies ahead.
(This post is filled to the brim with links to old posts … yes, I am whoring myself out.)
So picture this.
I was sitting in the living room of my parents house last July, eating away the sorrows of my failed move to California (read tidbits about it here and here). I was feeling extra sorry for myself; I mean shit, I had tried and failed again and had absolutely nothing to show for myself. I was past the withdrawal phase of quitting drugs and was entering the ‘finally I can feel all of the fucking guilt about it and now I want more’ phase, I had left most all of my belongings back in California in my desperate attempt to escape quickly, I had spent all of my money on the move, I had quit school, I gained back the 15 lbs I had lost from the crack cocaine and added on 10 more, I was triggered by the endless darkness that was still following me around, and I was creatively dying.
I am not kidding when I say that I had nothing left …
which I only recently realized meant nothing left to lose.
My mom sat next to me one day and listened to me whine.
“I want to start a blog,” I moaned, “But I can’t figure out what to write about.”
“Well … ” she started.
“I mean, I can’t do it about cooking or art or fashion or makeup or …” I interrupted, “I mean, I could do it about sex but that would just be trashy and I’d get bored. It just feels like if I stick to one subject, I’ll crash and burn.”
“So why don’t you just write your thoughts? Your thoughts are crazy and entertaining; no one ever knows what is going to come out of that mouth of yours next or which direction you’re going to go from second to second. Write about that. No boundaries, no set topics, just write.”
I contemplate. Lightbulb. “Woah, that’s a good idea.”
And just like that, Thoughts of a Lunatic was born.
I had no idea where I was going with it. One moment I’m attempting to begin explaining the crazy in my head, and the next I’m getting Freshly Pressed for taking digs at some a-hole that I saw complaining about the ‘Like’ button. I tried to gently begin talking about my past suicide attempts, I boasted about some killer jeggings, I bitched about the fucking bullies in high school that I had to deal with, and then mid-October hits and I take a real low dive into my hole in the ground.
But like a true Lunatic, I got out of it pretty quick. By December, I was finding a sort of groove. I still hadn’t talked about the dark, dirty secrets inside of me, but I did write about how I failed at getting thin and got Freshly Pressed again. Have any doubt how excited I was about that? You shouldn’t. I burnt my crotch with boiling water … then wrote about it, for future proof.
January comes and my baby brother leaves to the Army. I start feeling extra shitty because another year has come, 2013, and I already know that it ain’t gonna be any different than ones before. But instead of completely giving up, I decide to send out Valentine cards to some of my readers. It was fucking amazing, let me tell you! It felt like first grade all over again. I can’t believe y’all trusted me with your addresses! [[totally ignoring the rustle outside of their bedroom windows at night]]. I even had the single greatest [non] connection ever … in a video game store.
March. We say goodbye to Shelby-dog. And Sue. And I decide to start sharing more personal stories of my past, beginning with Ali. Why? Because dickhead decides to get back in touch with me seven years after he abandoned me. And I almost fell for it.
It proves exhausting and triggering to share more intimate details about my life, so I just start writing poetry to fill the space and to explore parts of my brain that didn’t want to see light. Oh, and I had my one-year-sober mark.
As I’m fighting for sobriety and cheesecake, I get an email from a dude that tells me that I’M really a dude. And I couldn’t have that, so I made the video as proof. Did it work? Results still pending.
And I did.
I write this post.
I expose my soul; myself.
And it is Freshly Pressed.
And I want to say no.
And I want Le Clown to delete it.
And I want Cheri to take it down.
But I do not.
And because I did not,
a boy happened to find it,
and sees himself in my writing,
and boy sends me an email.
He is just a boy,
at that moment,
just a boy.
Little did I know …
May. I am hospitalized for an infection …
and I meet the boy in person.
And I start to fall in love,
because neither of us are naive,
so we know that this is different.
He is different.
And he gives me the strength to write a piece that, to this day, I have not yet reread.
Secrets I have kept inside all of my life.
The reasons for most all of my fucking darkness.
I reread part of that post last night,
Lets move on.
A year ago, I was growing out of my old self,
a younger self,
a self that I had been clinging onto for far too long.
This blog has helped me,
given me the keys to unchain myself.
Now here I am,
growing into myself,
my real self,
the self that had been hiding all along.
I am engaged,
I am overwhelmed,
and scared. ,
and still crazy,
but I am happy.
I catch myself during the day, staring off into the distance, thinking about my past; where I have been, where I was just last year. And then I smile, just a small secret smile, because I realize that I am in the first real, good, safe place I have ever been in. I feel it. Everywhere. Evolving. And I find great comfort in this.
So with that, a
GIANT THANK YOU
to all of you whom I have had the pleasure of getting to know; to those who read and respond and care. This would be nothing if not for you.
And now I will end with a request. I’m looking for new ideas; new things to write about, new things to add on to this blog, suggestions to make it less-crappy, etc etc. Fill out the form below, if you’d be so kind, and leave me with your thoughts.