considering the dd i recently earned, i just wanted to say thank you to all my new watchers and old who have stuck around for an odd update and writing drop. this may be my fifth one (i double checked that number countless times, i'm still in awe) but the shock never goes away.
i went to write an update, and realized i have been gone for nearly a year this time. an entire year. i am so, so terribly sorry to everyone for being gone so long without a word, for not keeping in touch, or even checking my feed regularly. i've missed you all, i've missed your words, your art, and i've missed writing. i don't want to make promises i can't keep, but i'm going to try to be here more.
- semester four of college and my advisor wants me to shoot for my doctorate, probably my psy.d. i have potential, talent, skill. she landed me an undergraduate research position, which are coveted and competitive and my ticket to publication, recognition, and beyond. i am honored, humbled, and some days genuinely excited, but i don't feel worthy or ready. what if i reach and reach too far? what if there is nothing for me at the end of this but repetition, the same song ripped from my vocal cords again and again. this will kill me in less time than it would take to earn a doctorate; this could kill me any day. it steals this life in reverse, swallows the future years i'm struggling so hard just to make viable. i'm working towards more and more years of this life on repeat. some days i don't know if i'll be anything more than this.
- the gas is turned off again, and after a summer of cold showers and microwave miracle dinners (i learned you really can make anything in a microwave, cooking instructions be damned), i'm trying to look into how to grill this thanksgiving's turkey and buy more space heaters for my father and sister. i left them behind because i couldn't handle how heavy the air there presses down on me, but i can't stand to leave her there for another winter without heat, without food, without stability. i keep stealing her away, sending her to my father's red eyes with armfuls of food and finally, new clothes. but that house is a leaky ship and i can't keep it afloat anymore, no matter how much love and money i pour into his hands. i just want her to make it two more years and move on, away.
- i am twenty one, growing older and growing, growing into what? i drowned my coming of age in moscato and my boy's warm body, crying into his shoulder again and again that i am not this, i am not old enough for this, that i am no more an adult now that i was when i turned eighteen, fifteen, thirteen. responsibility makes me sick, adulthood weighs on me like a brand. i can do anything, now: drown myself in bottles, drive until the my car collapses under the weight of itself, into me, into infinity. but i don't feel like i can do anything at all. i feel paralyzed by indecision, at the thought that i must leave my old life for the new one unfolding before me. the person i can be feels too far from who i am. who i am feels too close to who i was.
- one of the reasons i haven't been here in so long is because i wrote something. a really big secret something. something that started as an edited, truthful version of metastasis, became an answer to my boy's questions about that segment of my life, and evolved into a twelve thousand word monster. i'm sitting on it and have been for a few months and could really use some advice. i don't think it's appropriate to post here (length being only half the issue -this is really uncensored and blatantly triggering in many, many ways. i gutted metastasis, kept the framework, and finally told the truth, to him and more importantly myself. there's more of myself in this than anything i've ever written and it seems scary to expose these bits of myself, still). i'm admittedly, at a loss.
i miss and love you all. i'll be working through comments and notes and things but please, please keep in touch