Sometimes you have words worth writing down every day for months at a time. Sometimes you can’t even open a word document for a month and a half. Sometimes you tell yourself you’re doing fine and you’re getting by despite every little task feeling like trying to push a boulder up a mountain. Sometimes you tell yourself and your friends that you’re happy and you are actually better off without him, like, you can’t even believe how dumb you were being. Thank GOD it only lasted five months. To the day- did I mention that? It happened on the fifth. Oh, I did mention it? Sorry, it gets hard to remember what I said sometimes. Yeah, no I’ve been getting sleep. I mean, maybe not enough, but I’m getting everything done. Haven’t called out of work yet. They’re actually really happy with how I’m fitting in there. Yeah. It’s exciting.
Sometimes you stop to think about how you’re doing. Like, how you’re really, truly doing. And it scares you so much you start listing the accomplishments you’ve made recently. You realize how easy it is to convince people you’re Happy and you’re Doing So Good, like You Should Write A Book On How You Got Over Your Depression. If Everyone Did What You’re Doing, I Think We’d All Be So Much Happier.
And sometimes you are doing good. Comparably, you’re doing a million times better. Side-by-side to your younger self? Unrecognizable. And you take pride in that. But sometimes your mood dips and a twinge of guilt takes up residence in your chest. You worry the worst isn’t actually over yet and this was just one long moment of clarity.
And as the years go on, you realize that might just be a part of depression. All the coping skills in the world and all the reworking thoughts can’t take it away. There will still be bad days and you might not get out of bed until 5 sometimes. And that’s okay. Because you’ve been through this before and you know the routine: feel bad until you don’t anymore and try not to ruin your whole life in the process. And you’ve gotten so good at not ruining everything.
Sometimes it feels like I’m not myself anymore. But I am, I’m just growing. And changing. I’m finding my way in the world as an adult. Not that that’s new, it’s been a good few years now, but when I was first 18, I didn’t feel like an adult. Even when I turned 21 and I went out and bought a six pack even though I don’t drink, I felt like I was faking it.
But now it’s been a few years, I know my favorite brand of beer and I’ve voted five times. I’ve felt what it’s like to fall in love and I know all too well the hopelessness of heartbreak. I still live at home and I’m still trucking along in college, but both of those are nearing the end of their lifespan. I can’t help but wonder where I’ll be in five years. That feels like a more daunting question now than it ever has. Will I still be living five minutes from the beach? Will I still be friends with these people who’ve lived down the street from me our whole lives? Will I have started my career? Will I be happy?
Sometimes I wish I could go back to being 7, laying in the grass in the backyard of my childhood home, listening to the same song on repeat until I learned all the lyrics. Or until it got dark out. That song was eight minutes and four seconds long. It was a song from before I was born and I still remember most of the lyrics. I wanted to learn the words so bad for virtually no reason other than just wanting to. I would write on a piece of paper for weeks, all the lyrics to this song from my parents’ childhood. And eventually, I learned all the words. I never showed it off to anyone, I never sang it for anyone. I did that purely because I wanted to see if I could.
At the time, that was something that brought me the greatest dopamine rush. Nothing made me happier than to be able to swing on the swing-set, listening on my $30 off-brand mp3-player in the crisp spring air, and quietly singing all the words. It was my project and no one else’s. Nothing could’ve made me happier.
Maybe the key to feeling that freeness again is to pick up that habit again. I should do things for me, to make me proud, not anyone else. I’ve always been a firm believer in thinking: if 7-year-old me knew what I was up to, would they be proud of me?
When I was debating you
and debating moving states
and cutting my hair
but I stayed stagnant
for the hollow feeling
of thinking I was wanted
I should’ve left
I should’ve been spontaneous
and I should’ve taken it as a hint
all the songs I cherished
about running away
maybe I should’ve, too.
It’s not new that I should’ve left sooner
but if I listened to the hurt inside me
just for a moment
I could’ve avoided the whole thing.
I could be better.
I get so stuck on the what-ifs
and the ways I could’ve been better
I forget that I did my best with what was handed to me
if I’d done everything perfectly
if I hadn’t stayed
if I hadn’t debated college
if I knew the outcome
and the way to get there without getting hurt at all
I wouldn’t be better off
I’d be bored
I know what love is
because I feel it
when the sun shines
and when the breeze
blew you into my life
and I know I love you
because I want to try
I was so lost
I got out of bed out of spite,
now I do it so I can see your smile
and on days you’re not around
I do it because I want to.
Love is more than us
but it’s so strong with us
that I feel it even after you’ve gone
and I’ve always loved
I’ve loved the fall
and I’ve loved singing in the car
but they don’t complete me
like you do.
Being 23 is nothing like what the movies make it seem like. At least not for me. Movie-23-year-olds are at their dream job, engaged to the love of their life, and have life figured out. I think watching movies like that did not prepare me for what being 23 is actually like.
Being 23 means you’re either still in school or you’re freshly graduated, and you’re so overwhelmed with what the rest of your life will look like that you don’t want to plan it out. You just want to nap. Or have a drink. But it’s only 4 in the afternoon and if you do either of those right now, it’ll ruin any plans you had for the night, so instead you try not to think about it.
I remember at my high school graduation the teachers asked us where we imagined we’d be in five years. Well, it’s been five years and I don’t think I could’ve predicted I’d be where I am. I figured I’d have my degree, I would’ve transferred from my community college to a four-year, then gotten my Bachelor’s in Writing or something of the sort. I didn’t think I would’ve changed my major four times just go to back to where I started. I didn’t think I would’ve switched schools after taking a year off. I definitely didn’t think that I’d still be in school now, barely even a Junior.
I remember when I graduated high school- I remember the feeling I had. I felt so free, I had so much to look forward to, so much ahead of me and it was only just beginning. I imagined that by 23 that feeling would’ve dissipated by now. I still feel like I’m only just beginning and I’m pretty sure it’ll feel like this for a while.
I think I’m at the point where I’m getting an idea of what I want to do with my future. I think the initial excitement of “wait, I can actually do whatever I want with my life???” has died down a bit and I’m thinking more realistically nowadays. There’s still a lot I want to do in my life, and I can’t even imagine where I’ll be in five, ten, fifteen years. I just hope that I’m happy. I just hope I’m going down the path I think is right for me, no matter what job I have, no matter where I live. I just want to be happy. I think that’s what I said when my teachers asked me that at my high school graduation, too. And I think I’m getting there.
Am I where I should be?
Is this what I want?
Does anyone know what they want?
Or are they just blindly chasing a feeling?
People put on a reassuring smile
and say they’re happy,
they’re doing what they want
and “don’t worry, you will be, too.”
Sure, maybe they’re right
and I know I’m still young
but that doesn’t make this
uncertain feeling in my chest
Days all blend together
and I wonder if they’ll ever stop doing that.
I want to grow
I want to bloom
I want to look back on this time
and think of how much I’ve changed
for the better
and be proud of myself
I’ve always been growing
I’ll always be changing
I’ll always be looking back on the past
with a hint of nostalgia
and a wave of pride
because I’m always growing
and I’m always changing
and I used to think I would stop changing
when I reach a certain age
but I don’t think that’s how it goes.
You learn new things
you find new hobbies
you find new things to talk about
with strangers and with close friends.
I think it’s beautiful
how the world is always changing around us
and we’re changing, too.
if ever there comes a day
where I stop growing, stop changing
I hope it is my last
because if I can’t change with the world
then I can’t change the world.
.. Lauren Hayden ..
I’ve been at my worst
I’ve been at my best
I’ve stood face to face with anger
and I’ve given in and I’ve given up
but I’m done stewing.
Now when I come face to face
with anger or despair
I’ll ask if it needs a cup of tea
or maybe more sleep tonight.
I want to believe
that these bad thoughts aren’t real
but they are,
they’re just poorly communicated needs
I just have to ask them what they are.
it’s nothing against you
I’m just bad at remembering to talk.
It’s something that’s been a constant since I was a child
and I’m not sure it’ll ever go away.
I get in these moods
they’re not necessarily depressions
though maybe they once were;
they’re like riding the subway late at night
when you’re the only one on the train
and you don’t feel lonely,
you’re just there
and you’re sort of tired,
but you still have enough energy to make yourself dinner when you get home-
at least something filling, if not a full meal.
It’s not a cry for help
and I’m certainly not lonely
but I want you to know I’m still here
I’m just less
Black coffee is not Bad
but it feels like a punishment.
I will continue to put milk in my coffee
on days that I feel I deserve it.
When I need to be Bitter
I will have it black.
Today I deserve