I'm going to try to make this relatively quick because I desperately need sleep. I haven't had a full night's worth in about a week. Tres mal, yo se.
Things have been interesting as of late. Randomly rocky and depressing, though you'd probably never guess because I've been acting no differently. I think my intense lack of sleep has been factoring into this, but there have been other things jabbing at me here and there, too.
Last week was Thanksgiving. That was hard, but easier than I expected. I still ate too much, though, and ended up feeling like shit all night, which made me angry. I guess I need to listen to my hunger cues a little more and stop eating with my eyes instead of my stomach. It was a nice holiday with my family and my boyfriend, though. :] They all really like him, and that makes me really happy, especially seeing as my family is pretty damn judgemental sometimes. Not that I particularly care what they think, because I'd date him anyway, but it's nice to have the reassurance. He was sick for the rest of the weekend, so we went back to his house and snuggled and I took care of him (or at least tried to, haha). It was actually a relatively enriching experience for me because I haven't had to play caretaker in a rather long while and given that it's something I'm natural at, it was definitely nice to have the opportunity. So, though he was sick and we just laid around all day, I couldn't have been happier just to know I was possibly making him feel better.
Saturday I went home and then to the Brand New concert at Nassau Coliseum. For whatever reason, I was actually really nervous about going, mainly because I went to school in Long Island for almost a year and didn't exactly impact that community in a positive way or in a way that would have me remembered nicely. So, I was apprehensive about seeing anyone I knew from the area. I kept my head down a lot, honestly. I didn't see anyone, though, which was nice, and I got to spend some bonding time with my best friend, who I don't see so much anymore because of school and whatnot. But, it's the same as always whenever we're together, so I can't complain. The concert in and of itself was fantastic. The last time I saw Brand New I was 16 and not exactly a big fan. I went to the concert because my boyfriend at the time got me tickets to see them for my birthday. I mean, I liked them and all, but they weren't my favorite band, so though I was excited to go, it wasn't like, a life-altering experience (though I did pass out and hit my head. good job, jess). Seeing them now, three years later, held much more weight for me because now I've been a fan for three years and have grown to absolutely love their music. They're in my top three favorite bands, but that's irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is that I had an amazing time with one of my favorite people, saw my favorite band, and didn't even see anyone I knew. All in all, a really positive experience.
So, you're probably wondering where I started getting cranky. Truth is, I don't really know. I would say after the concert, but I'm not too sure.
I recognize that though Brand New is definitely one of my favorite bands, it's also a band that has had a lot of negative power in my life because of the associations I have with it. Without the associations, they're just a band and the music is just music. With the associations, the music has a tendency to be agonizing, to a certain extent, and depresses me very deeply. I'm still not sure why if affects me in such a way, and so quickly, at that, but it seems that it always does. I usually snap out of it rather quickly, but given that this was a concert and not my iPod, it was a little unsettling. As I rode home from the concert that night, I was very quiet and just thought and thought and thought about my past, and about the last time I saw brand new, and the whole thing, the whole process of thinking like that, made me profoundly sad. I've lived a shit ton of lives in these nineteen years. And, I've done a lot of shitty things. A lot of them. I can't make penance for them now because it's too late, but I wish I could. I know spilt milk is spilt milk. I believe that. But, that doesn't stop the past from hurting and that doesn't stop the past from existing. I've been sicker than sick, crueler than cruel, and number than numb. And, I haven't cared an inch. I've painted people absurdly negatively and I was just too biased to be objective and give situations time to heal. I've always been so quick to jump the gun and jump down someone's throat. How I wish I hadn't been me those long six years I was sick and mean and sad. Sigh.
A lot of this also stems from the fact that it's winter and winter is never, ever an easy time for me, only because I've never been well during the winter, omitting the one during which I was in Florida. But, seeing as I was in treatment, I didn't exactly have the option, so that Christmas cancels itself out. At fifteen, and sixteen, winter was a time of near unrealistic happiness. At seventeen, I had fallen back down the hole of disease and was alone. Mind numbingly, all encompassing alone. It was that winter that I almost lost my life. At eighteen, I was at school, in college, trying to make the most of my life, and failing miserably, falling again, right back down the rabbit hole, too high and drunk to ever bother protesting. And, alone. Always, always alone.
At 19, now, I'm not alone. I have people around me. So, so, so many people. And, I have that one person I wanted more than anything. I have, essentially, everything. But, still I fear this season more so than anything else. The cold stiffness of my bones, the silence at night except for my slow, nearly inaudible breaths, my little, bony limbs peaking out from under so many blankets. Dying. Frostbite may thaw. But, every winter after, it will always ache. And, it aches.
I'm only cranky because I'm stressed. I have more school work than physically possible and I'm actually on the verge of pulling my hair out because I'm so exhausted it actually hurts. Which is why I wnt to go to bed early. Though I have to get up tomorrow and do it all again.
And, though this post actually sounds fairly miserable, whiny, and a bunch of other lame negative adjectives, I'm bizarrely quite happy in spite of all of these things. Regardless of the fact that winter is hard, I'm having a great time of it. I'm alive. I'm well. I'm BREATHING. It's unreal. But, it's amazing. Christmas may not be that important to be anymore. I doubt it'll ever hold the same promise it once did. But, even so, Christmas is MY day, MY celebration - of life, of love, and of health. Fuck the presents, fuck the food, fuck the religious aspect of it all. I have my life. If that's not present enough, I'm not quite sure what is.
and on that note, I'm going to sleep.