suck it up, cry baby

it's really beautiful how, without fail, i tend to mourn past versions of myself. what i mean to say is, i'll look at an old photo of me and think of that me so fondly. i'll be so kind to her, and wonder where that me went. i'll say, "she was so pretty, she was so gentle, she was so intelligent. i'm a shell of her." i do this without fail every 6 months to one year. there are certain versions i like better than others. there are some that i look back on with the keen sting of hindsight, and laugh her off as a more naive but bright-eyed version of myself. the beauty of this is, these past versions of myself didn't always like the present edition. all i needed was time and wisdom for the self-loathing to fade away. i don't know what this says about me.

lately my fixation has been my hair. i miss my long hair. it was fun and debaucherous and i want to be fun and debaucherous again. instead, in the words of charles darwin, i am very poorly and very stupid and hate everybody and everything. i've been having the kind of anxiety attacks that make me feel detached from reality, and all the things in my house and the lines on my face seem foreign, and i feel like everyone in my life is out to get me. and then i come down and i make some food and have some ginger tea and i remember that you need to be patient while peeling hard boiled eggs. 

i am consumed with anxiety and sadness lately and i know you're not supposed to, but i feel sorry for myself. sometimes it feels good to feel sorry for yourself. to admit that it's hard. to not feel so alone. i don't normally invite others in. i suffer alone, because that's how i know how to survive. but it's lonely being the last buoy in an endless ocean. and eventually i fill up like a rain basin and it makes a mess everywhere and i finally understand everything but i need a shop vac to clean it all up. i'm starting to realize that if there's anything people should know about me, it's that i'm emotional. a warning label, E M O T I O N A L.

i've been gone a long time, i know. i've been so full of words but they wouldn't leave my head. i sat lima in my lap and listened to class of 2013 by mitski and cried my eyes out. then the words poured out. 

what else to say? it's getting colder. i haven't been counting the days of quitting. abstinence is a choice, attraction is an impulse.