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like most things in my life i intend to do, writing has fallen by the wayside. grandiose plans are always good in theory but when faced with such coping mechanisms as paralyzing avoidance tactics its usually a losing battle. but wallowing in self loathing gets one nowhere so instead of dwelling on what i haven’t been doing i am going to focus on small steps towards a greater goal. chances are i will slip back into what is comfortable now and again, even if it’s not what is healthiest for me, but that’s a part of the process and someday the progress will supersede the stagnant. or that’s what i hope at least.
i need to start writing about the x. for a long time i chose not to write about him because i didn’t want my grief spilled all over the internet like a sloppy crime scene. i feared in writing about him and our relationship, i would be accused of trying to make him look bad, or trying to get revenge, or being a catty bitch. i need to get over that. what happened between him and i is just as much mine as it is his, and while i have no need or desire to tarnish his reputation on-line or anywhere else, i do need to write. i need to write what is true, what is mine, what i need to reflect on, process, and release. because its been about year from when i last saw or spoke to him, since i glimpsed the man behind the curtain, and still there are nights when he interrupts my sleep with dreams. dreams that leave me shaken to the core, hollow, and painfully aware of just how hard he broke my heart.
i need to start saying goodbye to portland. my move has suddenly shifted from a noun to a verb and i need to focus on getting myself together before it happens. i need to start actively looking for a job, furiously saving money, and stumbling upon the perfect studio apartment to house myself and my cats. i’ve got less months in maine than the fingers on one hand, and while nothing is set in stone and no one is pulling or pushing me to NYC, i know that it needs to happen now, i know that this is necessary even if it’s hard, even if it’s the scariest thing i have ever done. i know that if i chose to stay in portland for the next five years i will never be happy.
i am starting to take a serious look at myself, my life, my history and i am beginning to see the ways in which i am really unhealthy. my gut reaction is to distract, ignore, hide, but that hasn’t really worked so far and i think it’s time to start doing things differently. and not the kind of change that involves getting back to the gym and watching less tv [though that is part of it], it’s the kind of change that feels like something inside of you is painfully dying, the kind of change that forces you to let go of all the dysfunction coping mechanisms that have kept you afloat but have kept you back, the kind of change that means you will not only hold yourself but also the people around you accountable for the way they treat you/the way you treat yourself. and even though it scares the shit out of me, i look forward to seeing what things look like on the other side. from here it looks like hope.
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