I haven’t given these memories the time that they deserve…

How does one get over things? I’ve spent the last few hours, wide awake, listening to Of Monsters and Men, realizing that the regrets I thought I had are more complicated than I thought… Then, again, I haven’t done much thinking about them. I haven’t given these memories the time that they deserve. It’s human nature to avoid pain, so I have literally just buried them for years. I feel like, at 28, I’m too young to have all this baggage and to be so familiar with the feeling of spiraling out of control.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience when I think back to these things, because it doesn’t seem like it was my life. It feels like I’m watching the home movies of someone else, as I watch her fall to pieces, lose control, and end up very alone.

And, yet, it feels good to feel for once. I’m reveling in the experience of actually feeling something, even if it is regret, guilt, longing and pain. I feel like I laid down in an empty grave and slowly shoveled the dirt over myself during the last 8 years and now, I’m trying to claw my way out. I never thought I’d relish these most suffocating emotions. I feel like curling up into a ball and wallowing in them. I have to admit that I’ve handled some things in my life very poorly.

Growing up, I thought I had it all together. I was a great student, did my extra curricular activities, but being a good kid does not translate to being a good adult. I have failed miserably a few times. It haunts me, so instead of dealing, I just buried it all so deep. I think dealing with these regrets would help me move forward, but honestly, I don’t know how.
“I spend my whole night dancing with my own shadow…” – Slow and Steady by Of Monsters and Men


Anxiety is the most pointless state of mind… It consumes my entire body, physically and mentally, preventing me from making sense of anything. I become unable to think clearly enough to make decisions that could improve the situation. That is where I find myself tonight.

Sometimes, the anxiety is so thick that I couldn’t really discern what is causing it. When I try to figure it out, I end up coming up with a million reasons to be anxious, which makes me even more anxious. It’s a frustrating contradiction and self-fulfilling prophecy: a disabling feeling that you’ll never succeed. And, so, with anxiety choking you, you never will.

I never used to have anxiety before the head injury. I would get nervous and worry, like any other person, but anxiety is a different beast. Distraction just doesn’t seem like a good enough response to me. It just makes me feel more helpless.

The anxiety I feel is the summation of all my everyday fears and worries, amplified, appearing to be imminent. And, regardless of how well I know that they aren’t actually going to manifest all at once, it’s futile. It feels like things will never be OK again, because there’s no way I’ll sort it all out. It feels like drowning.


My first blog post… I don’t really know how to start, but I guess I should give some context to my blog. I’ve always had a passion for writing, but I’ve been living in a world of distraction. I’ve avoided thinking about things, meditating, even just talking about things because I don’t want to bring up emotions and memories that are really quite painful. My drug of choice is Netflix, because watching tv and movies are literally the easiest form of distraction. Your brain doesn’t have to do any work. I’ve recently come to realize that I don’t want to live like that anymore, because it’s not really living. It’s really just a constant state of denial. I live with a mild traumatic brain injury and severe chronic pain, and both have had a tremendous toll on me as a person and my personality.

You see, 5 years ago, I was in an accident that changed my life and I wasn’t one of those people that triumphed over adversity. I fell deep into the second type of survivor: the self-loathing, failure, unable to accept that I wasn’t the same person. I’m sure there are as many types of survivors as there are people who have survived any traumas, but I think all of us want to fit into the first category.

I have ignored the little voices in my head that imply there are certain things I could do to improve my life, like writing and meditation. My mind is so full of ideas and emotions, but I’ve ignored it all for so long. Denying your creative outlet kind of feels like drowning. You have so many things to say, but you just bury them deep. Writing has always been a way to figure things out and decode the jumble of thoughts going on in my head.

I swear my writing will get better. I’m out of practice.