intra-changeable

I wish I was about to talk to you about Cosmos, because I feel like that would be so much more interesting. I wish I was going to quote Sagan and take you into a black hole of information discussing whether or not Pluto is really a planet or why Saturn is losing its rings, but if that is the "space" you came here for - X out of the page quickly. Instead, I'm going to be awkwardly vulnerable and tell you weird shit that I think all while obsessively listening to The Cults (I slept on them for the last couple of years and now I'm obsessed again. If you haven't listened to them, put on their first album and just thank me later). A couple of months ago a friend talked to me about space. She told me I had to create space to allow the right things to come into my life. When you fill "your space" with the wrong people, activities, thoughts - it prevents the good from entering. You know when something hits you? Like just knocks you on the floor and you

When I love, I love with everything I have - I love hard, I center my attention around that one person, it consumes me. It sounds good (at least in my head) but it’s not healthy, especially if the other person isn’t loving as hard. You’ve put all your eggs in one basket and then when that basket decides it’s not strong enough to carry your eggs, you are left empty.  As dramatic as it sounds, the worst pain I’ve ever had is a broken heart. When it happens I sit and I pick myself apart. What’s wrong with me? How could I have been better? Did I miss something? Why have I failed? It eats at me like a cancer, it makes me do and say crazy things. I become so incredibly weak or at least that’s how it feels. I read the other day “it’s called a break up because it was broken” and in all my cases, this was correct. But I was always determined to somehow make it work, even if it meant making myself unhappy or enduring some type of pain.  I’ve been cheated on twice in my life.

This letter was inspired by Johnnie Elyse on Instagram (IG: johnnie.elyse) and her Letters To A Crook project.  She encouraged followers to write a letter to their illness and she would pick some to put in a book to be published. Once again, this is something that takes me deep out of my comfort zone but I felt such a peaceful feeling after writing it.  She prompted you to write the letter but in the end, let that illness know that they would not win.  So here's my letter to anxiety... Dear Anxiety, I know that you typically dominate the conversation, you decide when it begins and when it ends. You decide if it’s a full blown conversation or just a quick chat. You decide the time and the place. You’ve ruined nights, family gatherings, work, and my relationships. You are a toxic friend whom I’ve tried so hard to ignore but whose presence I’ve felt the strongest. You’ve caused me to hide under my covers as an adult, cancel plans that I wanted to keep and have complete breakdowns.

I feel it coming on. Electricity pulsing underneath my skin I can’t breathe My breaths are shorter and forced The feeling that I want no one But I need someone to hold me This feeling is like an old lover that disappears for weeks at a time but shows up just as soon as you’ve got everything under control. He’s comforting in an “I want to go to sleep and never wake up type of way”. He never lets you forget where you came from. I would watch for him in every dark alley of my mind, in every drink that flowed down my throat, I knew he would be back and I didn’t know if he was stronger this time or maybe I was - maybe the books, the meditations, the long talks with friends would work this time but maybe not and that “maybe not” is what always scares the shit out of me. I wrote this in the midst of a panic attack last week - I revisited it today and I was hit with a ton of emotions. I was embarrassed, were the feelings I felt at that time over dramatized? Was I just wanting att

I do it every day. I wake up to it and fall asleep to it. I do research, I study, I should have my doctorate in it. I should try to paint I need to cry less and be stronger I should be a runner I should cook healthier meals I should put makeup on before I leave the house, always I should grow my hair longer I should cut my hair I should be a better mom I should be a way better mom I should go back to school and get a degree I should get my eyebrows done I should delete all of my social media I should post more intelligent material on social media I could go on. for. days. It’s not social media that started this - it definitely makes it easier but it’s not the cause. Maybe it’s because I really don’t remember getting affirmations from my parents. I’m sure they did it, I’m sure they told me I was smart and pretty. Actually one of the memories I haven’t managed to blackout from my childhood is one day receiving a flyer addressed to me (I think I was probably 9, so th