i had to -

i had to say goodbye. i had to close the door. i wish i could say i'm sorry, but i'm really not.

this coming in and out of my life, leaving messages that leave me dangling, hoping, wishing, lying to me about pertinent information, dodging information that you think i don't already know and haven't already known - it had to stop. we couldn't continue on torturing the past over and over again. it was an act of self-preservation and of protection of my sanity, something i desperately needed to be okay.

so was leaving you. i'm a firm believer in doing things because you want to, because you are so compelled to do them that you don't believe you could ever do anything else. that tunnel vision feeling in which you are so locked in to your desired thing that everything else looks like a blurred vision at best - this is what i'm talking about. and yet, in the last 3-4 weeks, you painted a picture for me of how you saw me. being with me wasn't something that you desired, that you wanted with all of your heart; being with me was a means to an end, a way to keep from facing your fears of not being alone. if i've learned anything over the last year, it's that love doesn't force. love doesn't control, and that's especially true when it comes to the goals and the dreams of those in a relationship. you told me that i'd risk everything if i thought you were worth so much, but when it came back around to it, i don't think that you would have risked that for me.

both of you, really, just on different sides of the coin - two completely different people, two completely different situations, but i see now that i'm growing and creating better boundaries through which i am able to grow and become who i am. i'm alone for the holidays, and that's tough because i dread coming home and i dread spending christmas by myself. at the same time, however, i'm also pleased, because that means i haven't settled for less than i deserve (and, in the same way, i haven't allowed you to settle for less than you deserve). i'm choosing to see this moment as moving toward a higher path, and, in doing so, am going to seek a great perhaps.

i reject the notion that women have to be in a relationship to have worth, or that i need someone close to me in order to live my fullest life. my goals, my dreams, and my ideas are worth more than being in a relationship to me. i value love, i value friendship, i value connection, but i'm tired of giving all of myself to someone who does not give all to me.

depression is like...

disclaimer: this is a post i'll be updating (hopefully) rather frequently because a). it's something i need to get out and b). hopefully somewhere along the way, it will help someone to not feel alone (even though i know depression manifests in so many ways).

depression is like... watching a scene in a movie where you can hear everything that's going on, but the first person perspective is completely quiet - you can hear the sink running and your feet moving across the floor, and you know it's your body, but you still feel like you're just watching it on a screen.

depression is like... knowing you have so many things you need to do, but having absolutely no motivation to remove your body from a bed, much less do any of those things.

depression is like... making mental plans to do the things you love the most, and then when it comes time to do them, just feeling so mentally and emotionally drained that you can't possibly imagine doing any of them, even though you know you love them.

depression is like... being in a room of people you love dearly, knowing that they love you and that you love them back, and yet still feeling like a complete stranger.

depression is like... the massive weight of the rock of "disappointment," "guilt," and "shame" perpetually being placed on your chest, often to the point of being unable to breathe.

depression is like... hearing people say things like "it'll be all right," "things will get better," "you deserve to be happy," "just think positive thoughts," and wanting to do everything possible to get to those points, but feeling so confused that you don't even know where to start.

depression is like... tears welling up in your eyes when you want them the least.

depression is like... the realization that the only reason why this feeling hasn't been more pronounced in the past is probably a). because of age and b). because you probably drank/did drugs to get through it, and since you're making a renewed vow to your mental health, you now have to just sit with it.

depression is like... the understanding that dogs really were put on this earth to be the best comforts in the world.

depression is like... constant, absolutely overwhelming, incredibly frustrating exhaustion. especially from someone who is always striving, who can't sit still, who is working as hard as possible at all times.

depression is like... scrubbing the same spot on the kitchen counter 5 times because you long to shut the voices in your head up so much.

depression is like... feeling like you just swallowed your body weight's worth of bricks.

depression is like... the feeling of constant irritation, and then instant guilt for that constant irritation because you know, deep down, that you don't actually mean to be irritated at all.

depression is like... the feeling of shame because you just need to suck it up, snap out of it, and get over it, right?

i wish:

i wish i could tell you what it really feels like.

oh, no, wait - that's exactly what it feels like.
exhaustion, curling up behind your eyes,
resting in between the muscles of your arms, your legs —
confusion, wanting to explain this mass
of mixed emotion in your heart, but left quieted
by things never expressed in words —
indecision, going between wanting to sleep
and yet never wanting to sleep and
being with people but wanting to be nowhere near them —
irritation, at the slightest hint of things
you know would never both you before —
shame, guilt, pain, confusion, anger, apathy,
isolation, frustration, stress, embarrassment,
all moving under these curtains
on a cold december night.

노스탤지어

pulaski.
nashville.
columbia.
cookeville.
franklin.
spring hill.
incheon.
jeongju.
gwangju.
daejeon.
namhae.
busan.
seoul.
pohang.
manila.
puerto princesa.
el nido.
bangkok.
chiang mai.
krabi.
railay.
tokyo.
ibaraki.

rose-colored glasses: 닫힌 문을 계속.

a written history of my anxiety:

i never knew what anxiety was until i explained it to myself. it was myself, 7 years old, lying on a soft chair that was a roll-out bed, staring at the stars on the ceiling of my bedroom at my grandparent's house, listening to their gentle snores - reminders that they were alive and not passed on to a realm where i could never reach them.

year in and year out, the memory remains the same but with small changes at every turn. is there something crawling on me? do i have too much body hair? are we going to crash? am i going to fail? what do they think? what is (enter person's name) doing? question after question after question -

and yet i never noticed it. the tingling in my fingers, the feeling of spinning, the ringing in my ears, the tightening of my chest without warning, the feeling of being short of breath, the intense moments of fear, the paralysis, the tears, the stream of words flowing from my mouth, the desire to stay as far away from crowds as possible, the fear of failure, over and over and over again, like a clock ticking out the time of infinity.

it was only when YOU left that i realized it had a name and i stopped thinking that maybe my stomach was trying to invert and kill me slowly. i could keep it at bay in college - though memories pop up in my head, binging and purging, crying on the bathroom floor, insomnia, drugs, alcohol - but when i started to do away with my vices, so stopped my ability to bypass these moments.

and then, with even more intensity, came the moments where i realized my anxiety manifested so many times with YOU: when i couldn't reach you, and i allowed my mind to think, convince myself that you were dead, that something had happened to you, sinking to the kitchen floor with tears running down my check, letting the food burn on the stove - and i think about how right you were for leaving, because who would want that?

in the quiet of my townhouse, in the dark of my office, looking off into the horizon as the sun sets quietly, without notice, another cold december night - all i can think is of the tingling in my fingers, the ringing in my ears, the dull ache of my head, the sharpening of my breath and the pain in my chest, and, after the persistent thoughts of sinus infection and thyroid cancer and ear infection and stomach cancer subside, i realize that this monster finally has a name.