I called my mother earlier. I haven't been much into calling other people lately. I guess it is my need for some distance as I sort through things. I'm not sure really.
Just the idea of reaching out to others about things seems exhausting though. 
Or the idea of them reaching back too. 

I am in this self enforced social seclusion. 

I am trying to slowly come out. I write this blog in hopes some girl who also had a hard day will someday find it and though she is entrapped in her own depression, she will know she is not alone.

It was hard today. 

It was all fine.

SO.

I went to soccer practice today. In the middle I had to leave.

It was all fine. I had picked flowers on the way there to press into my notebook. I was listening to Taylor Swift. I had slept a lot the night before and spent the morning languidly in bed with a new book.

I started to have a panic attack and I didn't bring my meds today.

My body was already sore. I began to be pushed to the edge. 

Lately, when I am really at the edge physically, I began to reach the emotional edge too.

So we were doing drills. My body was achey. All of a sudden, I couldn't breath very well. 

I knew what was happening.

In a way it was like getting my period. The first time I was scared. I saw the blood and it was all real. I felt how my body was going to change and how I would have to deal with pregnancy and navigating womanhood.

As I began to not be able to breathe, I stepped away. I sat down. 

It was not all fine.

I stared off at the fence for a long while, trying very hard not to cry. 

I put my sunglasses on and I cried anyway.

I cried because the field I had been born into suddenly became this dark space. The field whose music I had known since I was a little girl, and I had to stand up and say this isn't me anymore. 

This isn't me.

There are too many people here.

And none of them get it yet.

They get to have these years to fuck around. They will take long walks on the beach and cry in the laps of their roommates and sometime sing with a man in a musty apartment that the man's mother may have lived in once. 

They think it will all work. The dreams and the soccer and the shit that happens.

It doesn't just work out.

It doesn't happen where I get my heart broken, go on a mission, my grandfather dies, I come home and then it is all just magically okay.

It's not okay. I loved someone in a way that made me feel inspired to be who he believed me to be. Then we parted ways.

I keep trying everything . I tried a mission. I tried ballet. I tried a series of long baths with lavender Epsom salt. I even once kissed a very gorgeous black man near a glowing fire. He didn't taste like the beer. He tasted like nothing. I was there for only a second with him before I started thinking of someone else and then I was numb. He could have fucked me right then and I wouldn't have felt a thing. My body would have floated above and he would have been left fucking an empty hearted pussy. Nobody wants one of those. They don't work so good.

So I'm not playing soccer today. I'm sitting in the cafeteria of the old community college watching some people play Super Smashbrothers and throw their lives away slowly.

It's funny you know. I wanted to live too fast for you. The dreams you had did not contain the smell of my hair. And the sheer quantity of my dreams drowned out your soft underbelly. I cannot go on like that.

I know better now. I want someone who wants to live big. Who knows the bigness is there and that we can own it together. As much as I wish your right hand could still be guiding my left hip, I cannot go on any further. 

I have to find someone who will heat my mashed potatoes in the middle of the night. Who knows how to hold a baby. Who is willing to buy me ample amounts of orange sherbert and who remembers to bring flowers sometimes on days that I least expect it. 

Someone who will say halfway through dinner,
LETS MOVE TO ITALY! 
And I will say, 
OK. 
And then pack our stuff and our son's things too.  And I don't want a dad anymore. I want a lover.

And until then, I would like to slowly throw my life away with the rest of the dickfaces playing Smashbrothers and eating cheetos in this world.

M