Warren Zevon Videos and working through my metaphorical demons: Thoughts on growing up and shutting up.

Warren Zevon has nothing to do with this post, other than he's all Brandon and I have been listening to lately. I just wanted to throw in some sweet jams to maybe lighten the mood a little.

I've been trying to write about what's been going on in my life. Half a fucking notebook, really. I've written so much and it's all the same. The anger and disappointment I've been feeling has made me pretty shitty, and everything I try to write is one big trashy, scream-y, airing of dirty laundry (gross).

I want to be better than that. I want to keep ahold of the *small* amount of adult composure that I have...or that I'm capable of.

I've let myself become a hermit lately because someone close to me has gotten so god damn deeply under my skin. It's embarrassing, and it's made interacting with friends difficult. I realize how unhealthy that is. My head has just been constantly 'somewhere else.'

My best friend chose drugs. Ruined her life, ruined the lives of everyone around her, and thus here I am...also pretty fucked up because of her choices.

And it's taken countless pages of rage and shit talking to get to a point that I could just say those words, and really leave it at that and not dive head first into something I would regret.

I try to be a good person and writing or blogging is my go-to for mental health self care, but everything I've been trying to get out has made me feel dirty, and my thoughts and feelings truly scared me, and I'm finally starting to reflect on that. 

Maybe I was an awful person. Maybe I need to try harder to know when to just grow up and shut up.
Maybe I really am stronger than I give myself credit for.
Maybe no one needs to see me fall apart on the internet.

Because that's not me, and it's not who I want to be.

I've let this go on too long and I'm done.

The last few months have been a lot to handle. I can deal with anxiety or depression, but rage and hatred are emotions I'm not used to having to deal with, and it's really been difficult to learn how to appropriately clean up the mess in my head.

For the first time, I wasn't writing to connect to humans for the greater good through political opinions, mental health awareness, or music. I was writing words that could have been found in my angsty and unstable teenage journals.

I was writing to expose and to shame. To tell a story that I am a big part of, but it's not my story to tell. And I don't know if I wanted sympathy, or simply just to talk to someone about how much meth has affected my life, and I now realize that there are much better ways to go about doing that.

Today I'm writing to let go, instead of writing to get even. I'm trying to get to a point that I don't make myself sick to my stomach every day by giving someone so much of my energy, someone who truly doesn't deserve it. 

And it feels pretty damn good because I didn't think I could feel ok without writing some awful, embarrassing manifesto and digging up childhood trauma. 

I'm feeling more like myself today just realizing what it is that I've been doing. Everything will be ok, despite the vague train wreck I've described here...I'm fine. I'm a little shaken up lately but I haven't collapsed into the black hole of anxiety and I'm still making art and doing things I love, so I think I'm going to walk away from this.  

Hope ya'll are good.
Cheers, and a little more light than normal today,
-Chels