Panic!

I was having an off day, I didn’t feel like going to the gym, I didn’t cook all day, I slept more than half of my day and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I thought it was just another off day, I’ve been having those a lot lately. I wasn’t even in the mood to watch my favorite shows that evening so I decided to take a swim.

I spend more than two hours swimming, thinking, and at the end just looking at the stars, I went home dissatisfied at the day I had wasted away. I changed into dry clothes and sat to read articles online.

Then it hit me, the panic attack.

I was hyperventilating, I felt miserable, I couldn’t sit still, but I felt the need to sit with my legs and arms close to my chest, I needed to be wrapped tight in a hug, but with no one around I grabbed my blanket and wrapped it around my arms as tight as I could.

Afterwards I was terribly lonely, scared, and exhausted that I just cried. I wasn’t particularly thinking of any one thing but of all the ways my life had gone wrong these past six months.

I hadn’t felt so afraid in years, so completely alone and terrified that my life was going nowhere. Had I made all the wrong choices this year? Was karma coming back around to make me pay for my mistakes? Was this just another rude awakening that I have been living the wrong life all this time? How was I supposed to make sense of all this? When would my head stop spinning so I could think straight?

I slept through the rest of the night and much into the next morning. Emotionally exhausted. Still questioning my existence. Doubting every decision I made. Wondering how I’d make it through another day.

But like every other time, I survived; I regrouped and brought the pieces back together. I’m not saying I have my life figured out, far from that, but I’m not in a state of complete panic… for now. I live a never-ending battle with my own thoughts, ideas, and feelings that form the perfect environment for another attack.

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Love Lost

I realized I was pretending, I had employed the false smile to make myself think I was okay. And I hate myself a little for that, I don’t like to lie to myself but I felt I had to. I felt I had no other choice or I would have broken down completely.

I lived in denial of my pain and my love. I’ve known I loved you but I never explained what that means to me.

I loved you for your soul, a kind of love I never imagined. A love so strong it hurt months after you left, a love I cannot imagine feeling again.

One day, after months of being friends, I saw you in a different light, I looked at you and I knew you were my soul mate. I knew we were meant to cross paths, to see each other at least once in this lifetime, even if we messed things up our souls were meant to be together. That’s how I loved you. Even if you didn’t realize it or never heard me say those words, I loved you unconditionally, for everything you were and ever would be. You understood me, you knew how to comfort me, and you were romantic, sexy, and intelligent. You were everything I didn’t even know I wanted.

Ever since I saw the real you I cannot undo anything, I cannot stop thinking, I cannot forget, I cannot go back to one year ago when I didn’t know you existed, when my life was set, when I thought I knew what my life would be like right now. You’ve changed everything about me and the way I see the world for better and for worse.

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My First Love

Falling in love a second time made me realize that not everyone you will love romantically you will love the same.

My fist love: I liked him and he liked me, I liked him because he liked me. He took care of me and made sure that I didn’t cry and that I smiled every day. He bought me gifts for our anniversary, Valentines Day, Christmas, my birthday, and for every holiday. I loved him for that, for his caring nature and because he never missed an occasion to tell me how beautiful and smart I was.

I loved him for all of that, until the day I didn’t, until the day I took my blindfold off and admitted that he wasn’t the love I was meant to love forever.

I had refused to accept the truth that he wasn’t the love of my life. I was ashamed that I didn’t love him because how selfish and heartless could I be to not love someone who loved me with all their heart?

One night I caved and I cried. I told him I was confused and I wasn’t sure how I felt for him anymore. He understood, he comforted me and I hated that. I hated myself because despite his understanding and caring nature I felt nothing more than deep regret for not loving him like he loved me.

I replayed the various scenarios over and over in my head and despite my desire to want to continue loving him; he didn’t show up in a version of my future where I was happy. It was a sad truth to realize after many talks of getting married and having a family together, that he wasn’t the forever love. How could I be so selfish? How could I sit there and think about how I would break the heart of a man I cared for?

Despite all the questioning I know I made the right choice. I couldn’t look back ten years from now and regret a life I had built, so I had to end it now before I made a mess I could never take back. It hurt. I was the cause of someone’s pain. I dug a whole in my own life, left an empty space where once there was laughter and joy. I felt empty, numb, disappointed.

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It’s Been One Month

I still think about you when I wake up
You’re still my last thought before I fall asleep
I’ll be at the store and I’ll remember you and wonder how you are
I still hope I’ll see you again one day
I still look at the empty space beside me when I sit on the couch
I still think about you every time I hear a love song
I’m still the fool who thinks I love you
I think about the day I have to go back to school, and I wonder where you’ll be
Every time my phone goes off I still hope it’s you
I hoped it was you when the sales guy knocked on my door
Despite my arguments that I’m a robot with no human feelings, I’ve shed a few tears for the broken and failed relationship
I remember that I still have your sweater and I think about giving it back, but I’ll only be admitting to you that I still think about you
And it seems that although I’m getting better, I yearn for you to still be in my life

It’s been one month but I still think about you every single day

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I’ve Annoyed Myself

I’ve had enough of thinking
I’ve had enough of writing
I’ve had enough of living every moment with thoughts of him
I’ve had enough of typing my sorrows away
I’ve had enough of believing
I’ve had enough of hiding
I’ve had enough of denying
I’ve had enough of pretending
I’ve had enough of waiting
I’ve had enough of patience
I’ve just had enough

I’ve had enough of impatience
I’ve had enough of hoping
I’ve had enough of dreaming
I’ve had enough of pursuing
I’ve had enough of understanding
I’ve had enough of compassion
I’ve had enough of caring
I’ve had enough of love
I’ve had enough of him
I’ve had enough of being scared
I’ve just had enough

I’ve had enough of running away
I’ve had enough of facing my fears
I’ve had enough of fighting
I’ve had enough of positive thinking
I’ve had enough of me
I’ve had enough of stinkin’ thinkin’
I’ve had enough of change
I’ve had enough of happy couples
I’ve had enough of fairy tales
I’ve had enough of feeling numb
I’ve just had enough

I’ve had enough of being tired
I’ve had enough of loving
I’ve had enough of feeling
I’ve had enough of being broken
I’ve had enough of being emotional
I’ve had enough of crying
I’ve had enough of holding back my tears
I’ve had enough of everything
I’ve had enough of trying
I’ve had enough of ice cream
I’ve just had enough

I’ve had enough of chocolate
I’ve had enough of trying to get over him
I’ve had enough of trying to replace him
I’ve had enough of filling the void
I’ve had enough of wounds
I’ve had enough of scars
I’ve had enough of healing
I’ve had enough of bitterness
I’ve had enough of pain
I’ve had enough of the dream
I’ve just had enough

I’ve had enough of rules
I’ve had enough of being sad
I’ve had enough of depression
I’ve had enough of my bed
I’ve had enough of my T.V.
I’ve had enough of wanting a cat
I’ve had enough of holding back
I’ve had enough of lying
I’ve had enough of small talk
I’ve had enough of being independent
I’ve just had enough

Yet I continue writing.

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About Failing 

tryfail

I’ve failed a lot, and it always made me feel inadequate. It made me feel like I hadn’t accomplished anything in life. But I’ve realized that the reason I fail so much is because I don’t stop trying.

I tried to be a chef, but I failed.
I tried to ignore my anxiety, but I failed miserably.
I tried being in a long-term relationship, but I failed.
I tried to graduate in 5 years, but I failed. Make that 7.

I won’t stop trying because with all the things I’ve tried I’ve learned something. Sometimes I had to pay a price (of blood and tears, of pain, a broken heart) for that knowledge, but it’s my knowledge. I learned it, I lived it, and I don’t regret it.

I was inspired by a quote I read one day, and I still live by it: “the only things you regret are the things you don’t do” – Michael Curtiz. I take chances because I don’t want to wonder the rest of my life. From peeking into an insignificant classroom closet out of curiosity, to taking a trip abroad to Spain, to confessing my feeling to that guy, I don’t regret any of those things. I’ve learned what I like; I’ve learned what to not do.

I take chances, I don’t always follow the rules, sometimes my gut instincts get me in trouble but it’s all worth it. I make my choices, I try, I make my mistakes, I live my life.

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Stained Shirt

I wash my shirt over and over again. But he stain is still there. I wear that shirt again hoping the stain will simply fade away, but in the meantime I still carry that stain around. It was a great shirt; I loved the peach color and the coolness it exerted in the hot summer days. It was flowy, edgy, clean, but after that month of happy memories with my shirt, a big stain marked it, perhaps forever. I might have to throw the shirt away, but I still hope the stain will fade or wash away. Maybe I’ll just get a new shirt, throw this one in the donation pile and go forget about my stained shirt. But if I see someone wearing my old shirt will I become upset? Should I rip it apart and shred it instead?

But in the end I decide to keep the shirt, continue to wear it and wash it, making the stain slowly disappear until one day I won’t even notice it anymore.

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