Is it me?
Yes.
My last published newsletter was December 7th, 2023— it would be pointless to run through the list of changes that have occurred over the year. What I will say is that I’m here and I’m trying. I’ve started, scrapped, restarted, laminated over, scrapped again so many of these beginning paragraphs of entries that have never seen the light of day. This one, though, I’m hopeful about.
Admittedly it’s a little difficult to write— saying I’m rusty would be an understatement. But my sister urged me to go back to doing things that make me feel better. And this I think I love. I have Fiona Apple subtly playing in my ears, my phone is flipped on its face within 3 inches from my fingers, my ADHD is in full swing and my brain is at max capacity but I’m trying to settle all of my distractions and practice a foreign concept to me called discipline.
Earlier this week, in my journal, I wrote about all the variations of myself I’ve been the last few months. All of the characters I played. I suppose this happens when you’re fresh out of a long relationship. You try so badly to rediscover yourself or lean into new qualities— some that you know deep down you could never really possess. After the constant searching and meditating, I found that the realization I’m most plagued by is how badly I can’t recognize myself. Who is this new person? And why is it that recently when I finally feel like I’m close to myself again do I run so far away in the opposite direction?
In a long text message from someone who knows me very well are lines that stung but stood out. “We gotta do some self reflection and figure out some of the root of the problem because I know this isn’t the person you want to be. We have to learn from our mistakes.” So many friends have just let me cruise this year. They allowed me to behave however I wanted and chalked it up to a lot of the changes I was experiencing. But it’s funny and so clear when you can feel people finally getting sick of your shit. I fear I’ve reached the end of people making excuses for me. And as much as I want to be annoyed at this, I love getting cut some slack, it’s probably for the best— sometimes I really do need a wake up call so loud.
It’s a really unique experience when it finally hits. And even now I hate that I have to admit it: I’m the problem— this last year I’ve been the problem. I’m not even saying it for pity or comforting words— I’m not beating myself up over it either (this might be the first time that I’m the villain…). All of the conflicts, the difficulties, the separations- those that were romantic or even the platonic ones- were all consequences of my behavior. Whether I subconsciously self sabotaged and destructed or just blindly made errors. But what do I do now?
The first step is admitting you have a problem (in my case that I am the problem). But what’s the second step? Because while I’ve recognized all of this— I haven’t sat there and thought about how to make mends, bandage open wounds and I definitely haven’t written down all of the necessary steps to be better. I suppose I’m due for drafting some apology texts. Maybe the first one should be addressed to myself.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself over the last several months and even in trying to pick up the pieces now, it’s my inability to wrap things up. This entire year served me a brutal and beautiful reminder that phases and experiences almost always have endings. I just need to know when to push that button.
Keeping on that note— I’m historically bad at closing off these entries. And I’m even worse at proofing them. But if I overthink it, I’ll never publish. You get what you get.
I hope I can get myself to write on here more. And if not, I’m sure you’ll hear from me in 11 months.
x M
