I have to be clocked in at Dollar General in 44 minutes. I don't want to clock in at Dollar General, but somebody's gotta do it. I don't have another persona that can go work for me and pretend to be okay.
I killed all the other Andreas. They were getting in the way, but they were good liars, and now having all of them weighing inside of me, keeping me grounded instead of in space where I usually am, makes me want to cry.
I can't, though because now I have 42 minutes, and I already did my eye makeup. I am so, so tired.
Please stop showing me things I no longer belong to. Stop making me cry at night. Stop making me de-forgive people after I've stopped being angry. You're relentless and cruel. You steal my laughter and reverse it like playing a song backwards. You shove it back into body, make it strangle me for your amusement. You pound my mind with sorrow until my headaches pound me back to numbness.
I'm begging you. Leave me alone. Stop making me log in to look at pages of people I no longer know; I no longer want to know. Stop dragging me through mud and rocks and broken glass because I've chosen to be in love. You make it so hard for me. I'm sorry for what you went through; I am, partly because I enjoyed you going through it, partly because I'm no longer in it with you.
You're miserable. You tell everyone. You write about it in my diaries. You keep postponing the therapist's consultation. You don't want me to forget.
Stop it. Fucking stop it. I'm trying to be wholly alright. You're trying to be holey, incomplete. You need excuses; I do not.
The only problem is that this isn't an open letter to another person, another force. It's to me. Let me live.
Hiya. Case ya didn't know, I'm Andrea, and I author this blog.
MY INSECURITIES HAVE BEEN COMING FOR MY NECK LATELY.
As much as I hate it, I constantly reflect on my adolescence because truthfully it wasn't that long ago. I'm only twenty.
Throughout most of my adolescence I was bullied a lot by regular classmates and even friends. I'm trying to get to a point where I don't really hold that against anyone because after all, we were all shitty in our teens, but yikes. I've just resorted to pretending a few people don't exist.
There is one friend, however, that teased me, and I've truly been able to forgive, so I'm really pleased with that. Anyway, my insecurities aren't so much based on my looks. They're usually about my intellect or my social skills. I have intense social anxiety, and it's worsened since moving to Louisiana where no one knows me, and I've literally been able to fall off the radar for most of the people I used to know.
I can't post a caption, but the above photo is me hiding in the bathroom at a function Sunday. That being said, being insecure about my appearance is super weird, but that's what's been happening lately. I don't really know what to do for it. I've removed myself from my main social media source (Instagram) for a little while because that usually helps. Don't get me wrong. I think I'm really pretty, and I like myself. I've worked hard to, but I just....I don't know. Sometimes it feels like something's missing, and like today I was on the verge of tears because my two year natural journey is coming up in April, and I feel so baldheaded.
My hair is at a decent length, but I figured by this time my afro would be huge, and I'd just have this voluminous natural hair, and that's just not the case. It's disappointing because I've taken care of my hair and, to a lesser degree, myself. To have a goal and not even be able to see it really has me feeling a way.
It's not even about my hair at this point. It's really just about the fact that I did what I was supposed to, and I'm not reaping the benefits.
ALSO I'M REALLY TIRED OF COLLEGE?????
This is a pretty smooth semester, but I still have a good ways to go before my Associate's Degree is in my hand, and I'm really exasperated at this point. I want to finish, and I plan to finish. I don't want this to be time I've wasted, but god. I keep trying to tell myself I'm a published author, and I'm on the right path to my dreams and yada, yada, yada. I'm just really impatient and trying to create roots anywhere is difficult for me. I've always been on the run. My family moved all over town when I was growing up. I changed friends like draws in school. I've always had to flake on plans. I can't even pretend, however, that I'm a product of environment. Most of this is just me and my inability to let things go. Before I go, here's a song I really enjoy. Hope it helps you too.
