It has been WELL over a weeks since I posted a blog. After much build up and drumming anticipation, I, admittedly, dropped the ball. It isn't that I didn't write. It's that I wrote 4, four, FOR, foar, (4) other blog posts and near the end of each I sat back and said "Who gives a fuck?" So, I never hit "Publish" and they're sitting in my saved drafts until I don't feel like a whiny piece of shit and I rewrite (what I once considered a good blog) and open up to the internet.
I know a lot of you reading this are actual personal friends. Most of you know my life already. But I am seriously struggling with how to even talk with myself about what it's like to be me; to binge drink on Mondays and not shower for a week, or to fall head over heels into one one-sided relationship after another. I'm afraid you you(I)'ll judge me. But that has got to pass if I am going to write a blog and work through my deep seeded issues that I'm sure so many of you are dealing with too. So, todays struggle is a struggle-ception, because I am going to open up to you about how hard it is to open up to an open (up) forum.
The first bit of advice I need to remind myself of, is that I am not the same person I was last week. I am not the same person I was a year ago. We make different decisions based on who we are at the time we are asked to make a decision. My grandmother, on her deathbed, offered the most beautiful and true thing I have ever heard. She said, "If we make the right decisions moment to moment, we will have fewer regrets." It is through this lense that I make all decisions. It is through this same perspective that I evaluate past decisions. And, it is with the same confidence that I can not predict future decisions.
It is with this advice that I have to remember that it is okay to tell you what it was like to be that person I was last week when I got so drunk on a Monday night that I bowled a 33 and fell out of my chair. It is with this advice that I have to remember that it's okay to tell you that giving up on someone is the hardest thing I will ever do. It's those little glimmers of hope that maybe they'll love you like you love them. This part of me hasn't changed, ever. It is with this advice that I have to remember that it is okay to tell you that I had plastic surgery when I was 21 and it was one of the most fulfilling thing I have ever done; and I still hate my body.
Writing that last sentence was one of the hardest things for me to admit. It feels like almost everyone knows that I had plastic surgery, but I do a pretty good job of laughing it off and making it fun. No one wants the sob story. The reality is, it will never be funny to me. I will never feel good about it no matter how hard I try. The humor is just a mask that I wear. My reality is painful and shallow and self-loathing. But, more on that in a serious week.
God, that was scary. Jesus, did it feel good. I think we just made progress. POST 2: Success.
Thank you to those of you who came back. Welcome the newcomers to my life. Let's all work this whole, crazy twentysomething thing out together, shall we? HUGE thank you to Andy Janapoulos for sitting me down this weekend and telling me my blog wont be shit.
Feel free to follow me on Instagram and Twitter @sarahfblack
I wont keep you waiting so long next time. Promise. This is NOT shit. I am NOT shit. I will do this.
-Sarah Black
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