Fall into something

Something changed the other day. I was thinking about my life and trying to map out the last couple of years. The problem, because there was a problem, was that I always started at the most recent moment and tried to go backwards. Remember the problem? Well, I always got stuck. I got stuck on the last mean thing I said or the fact that I checked my bank account. There was always a roadblock and instead of moving towards a better answer, I shut down, I felt defeated. So, I finally asked myself, "When did I stop thinking I could move forward?" I wanted to pinpoint the moment in my life when it all got so confusing. That brought up some pretty depressing truths and I don't know if I am more disturbed by the fact that all of those events have been silently experienced or that they have, in turn, silenced me. So, how do I correct that situation. I get it out there in the open. I write about it because that's what I do. When I had a problem with my mom when I was still in elementary school, I would write her a note and leave it on her pillow. We never talked about them, but I knew she got them. When I wanted to tell a boy I liked him, I wrote a letter. When I needed a friend, I got a diary.. you get the idea. And now, in the world of blogging and media, I'm turning to electronics and praying that those wrongs can be corrected, for now, at least.

I never came up with a moment. I remember high-school, never doubting a moment. I had my friends, my boyfriend, cheerleading, school and grades high enough for college. I had energy to get me through days on end and the stamina to go with it. That led me on to college. I can remember loving my first couple of months. I still had my friends and I fell into the groove naturally. Nothing amiss there. But then, where's the sophomore year? I had started smoking weed by then and my family was obviously not a part of that and we obviously didn't talk about any of that. See the problem is that I know my problems are small scale and I wasn't brought up to complain. You make the most of what you've got and thats the only way to live. But, I couldn't I couldn't be happy because something in me was wrong. I wanted more from my relationship with my boyfriend at the time. I wanted change so badly. That's the only reason I can think of for applying to study abroad. But, I went. Even then, eating disorder and all, I was happy. The newness of the place and the absolute happiness of the people I was living with. Those might have been the best four months of my life. Then again, I cried over my ex on the computer almost every morning. How can those two feelings exist simultaneously. To feel great lows in order to feel great heights. Something like that anyways. And then I went through a depression when I got back. That was awful. I came home to nothing, essentially. My family was there, which kept me alive, to put it boldly. Then I met someone. Not sure why I did that. I guess I never felt my relationship was satisfying, so off I went, looking for love, looking for passion and I found it. I found it in a guy who wound up in prison. Really. I couldn't make this shit up. Well, dream crashing as all of that was, I linked myself up with a former roommate and thought I'd head back to college, pursue the degree in the only way I had ever known how to. I left. Is leaving something I do because I'm reenacting an event I had seen happen as a kid and now I'm trying to replace that hurt or because that's what we all do, for the freedom of it all?
Needless to say that last year didn't get any better. In fact, it got much worse. Better in the sense that one disorder took a backseat to another less physically damaging. Well, shit I don't know why I'm sugarcoating. I finally stopped the bulimia and replaced it with terrible, dangerous sexual encounters and lots of drug using. One drug, two if you count alcohol, but large quantities. Like I mentioned earlier, maybe these issues are small to some people, but I can't help feeling like I want them off my chest.
Clearly these life choices led me into a relationship I could have done without. It never made me want to be anything more than I was, which might sound charming, except I find it disgusting and minimizing. Nothing in that relationship was about me. Which I thought was the right thing, what did I do to deserve a relationship that made me actually happy or even followed along with the principles I had and the expectations I had all of my life? I was wrong, obviously.

I can't tell you what changed. I can't tell myself that I'm any better now than I was then. All I know is that when I pray for something, change happens. Seriously. Before my first overnight camp, I prayed to have the strength to stop wetting the bed, because I did, and then I did. When I prayed to somehow overcome bulimia, it went away. I don't even think I could make myself throw up at this point which is a miracle. The answers to my prayers don't hit me in the face, but I can feel them and I'm thankful.
I know this is personal and it probably has no place in the viral world. I know I don't have any answers, but I have a story and I'm learning how to cope with it.

The next step is falling into love again, with myself, with the person I used to know who followed her heart even when it led her down the different path. Maybe thats the point, I had to go down all of these roads to finally find the right path. The funny thing is, I always knew that it took me longer than most people to do the same activity. I just have my way of doing it, my own slow, thorough way of completing tasks and I can't let all the obstacles keep me back or hold me down. That's why I'm writing. I'm writing to fall in love again with being in love and following my instinct and because I can and because I'm thankful for being able to do what I love, what ever that might be next.