reflection pt. 2

I wish somebody had told me how lonely it would be to grow up. Sometimes you out grow the people you care about, or people start to out grow you. We’re all on a different journey, and i’m here dreaming for better days ahead.

The last few days i’ve felt the extreme lows. I tried to leave the house, and that I did. I grabbed my coffee in the morning, got ready and into my car. As my day went on, I began to feel uneasy and anxiety started to rush through my body. I went to my local Starbucks coffee store to work on a big project, but prior I spent some time pacing around the magazine section next door. I was putting it off, as with many other things, i’ve been putting it off because my mind was just somewhere else. I couldn’t find it in myself to focus on anything, besides how I was feeling in those moments. I started to look through the shelves and found “Jungle.” A fashion magazine based in the UK, the title “The introspection edition” is what drew me to pick it up.

Introspection “the examination of one’s own conscious thoughts and feelings”

I found it interesting to see a magazine on fashion incorporate music, art, mental health and self-discovery all together. To see all these amazing disciplines come together from a place of vulnerability and just being aware of your own consciousness. This is what makes me excited. Great art. I’m a firm believer in great art comes from pain (something Yeezy once taught me) but I also know that it comes from a place of reflecting, a place where you’re learning.

I’ve been told countless times that I need to take it “easier.” That perhaps, or maybe I’m just too emotional for my own good. I’ll be 24 this year and in my professional life – I know i can’t be this way. I can’t let the small things get to me. I’m stuck in this clutch – of trying to be who I am and learning to let things be – taking it easier.

I’ve been doubting myself a lot lately.. it sucks cause you gotta believe in yourself. Cause who else will?

I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m not living the life that I was meant to live. Does that make sense? Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so “to myself” or selective. Not afraid to let people in. I’m not sure why I’m always holding back. I get asked that a lot (more than i’d like to hear it). People asking me “why am I holding back from my relationship” for example. I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid. I’ve felt a lot of pain – and I feel so much and I don’t think people understand that. I feel too much and it’s not because I want to – that’s just how it is with me.

Some days, I tell myself i’ll do great things. Some days, i feel like i’ve let myself down.

I wanted to be a therapist – I wanted to help people, I wanted to listen. It’s the reason why I did my undergraduate degree in psychology. As the years went on – I started to feel more and more miserable in my program. I just knew.

I could barely help myself from drowning. I’m here most days – but barely.

I’ve been contemplating whether I should get help but I don’t think my pride will ever let me.

In my head it goes “what are you sad about?”

“why are you sad”

“why should you even be sad” 

I’m not remembering a lot of things recently. I have this fear that i won’t recall my favourite memories. Why do I only remember the horrible things, the painful things,..

I promised myself i would document more. Take more photos – write more – so i’ll remember the times i’ve felt something. But also, just in case, it’s the last time.

Saying “i’m sorry” isn’t as easy as it seems. I’ve been trying to find the opening words to tell her i’m sorry. If I apologize at this point, i’m not even sure if it’ll make a difference.

I love my family, but I’m also sorry that I couldn’t stick by them. When I was 18 I left home. I felt depressed in that house that once made me so happy. It was filled with memories of the block and the kids playing everyday. After dark, when you go home it wasn’t the same – it wasn’t filled with laughter and people. It was just you. I remember how much I didn’t want to go home, even as a kid – I’ve always been straying. I guess, I carry this guilt with me and it stops me from having good days. The voice in my head says “you don’t deserve to be happy. You haven’t taken care of all your business. How could you be happy.”  Then I tell myself, there’s only so much I could do but it always comes up again. My favourite memories of “family time” was visits to the penitentiary. It wasn’t a pleasant place – but we were together and I was happy. Even if it was for a few moments. It was true happiness. And I miss that.. being together, knowing that your time is restricted. You appreciate each other more.

Yeah.. so nobody told me that growing up would be like this…

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