I’ve been avoiding this.
I didn’t want to write because I didn’t want to face what I was going through.
So, instead of writing, instead of facing, since I couldn’t even begin to deal with the things that keep me up at night, I decided to stop. Stop writing, stop facing.
You know what I did instead? Nothing. Sweet, blissful nothing.
Well, not nothing nothing; I mean “nothing” in more of a figurative than a literal sense.
Sometimes I sat and looked out the window in complete silence, or I would walk for hours until I needed to do something else. I learned to appreciate how long it can take to do the dishes. Then, I would find more things to clean that weren’t even dirty to begin with. And during most of these things, I cried. I cried more in two months than I have in years.
I didn’t dance to music, I listened to it. I didn’t numb the pain, or try to understand it before I felt it.
I just felt it.
A little over two months ago, I was so afraid of where the consequences of my own actions would lead me. And in the months before that, I was too busy anticipating my impending doom that it kept me from being able to prevent it.
I’ll be keeping things pretty vague, so without going into a gruesome amount of detail, here’s what you need to know:
I royally fucked up.
And in the process I ruined a handful of things for my future self – including, but NOT limited to, having a place to live for the foreseeable future. Believe me when I tell you that this is only the beginning of the list of side effects.
The worst part was not necessarily dealing with my own consequences as much as it was sitting with them. Sitting among the mess I created and marveling at it rather than finding a way out.
In the past, most of my impulsive habits led me into quick decisions, but I always reasoned with myself that everything would be fine. If the worst case scenario were to actually happen, the biggest reaction you could get out of me was a whopping, “Oh well!”
And you know what? In some situations, that was a great quality to have. However, that same quality has gotten me into the habit of doing things (or in some cases not doing things) without having an ounce of a thought about them. This same quality has now gotten me into the biggest predicament I have had to deal with in quite a while – far too big for my typical, “oh well.”
I had really outdone myself this time.
Usually the thing I would do after making a mistake was try to move on as swiftly as humanly possible, then ignore it forever. I made that my pattern (emphasis on the ignoring part). I thought keeping mistakes I had made in the past – where they belonged – was the best way to keep myself from making them again. As it turns out, pushing my past missteps so far out of my memory was only making the original problem worse.
Somehow, each time that I repeat a mistake, I become more and more confused and disappointed in myself.
“How could I have done this again? Why do I keep fucking things up?? What am I STILL doing wrong?!?? I thought I was growing up, I thought I had changed.
… maybe I’m incapable of changing.”
Here’s where I am now: sitting in my apartment, looking out the window – at peace with myself and where I’m at in life.
Turns out I was capable of changing.
Sure, it’s nice now that I’m here – but Jesus Christ, getting to this point was a bitch and a half.
It took a lot of sitting with just myself and the mess around me to figure out what I wanted, what I actually really wanted. Especially being twenty-two years old in a college/mountain town where everyone around you is doing the same thing as each other. I often feel like I’m doing something wrong because I’m going against the grain, and I still have to convince myself almost every day that just because my path looks different doesn’t mean that it is inherently wrong.
I have spent far too many days in the past couple months staring at the walls of my apartment, wondering if I made the right decision while trying not to cry. I know that sometimes the hardest choices are the most worthwhile, I know that, but most days I still need some convincing.
After a number of minutes, the moment passes. When it’s over, I talk myself into having a good day and then I do. Not because I have to, but because I can.
The pieces have fallen into place, as they often do. I have landed back on my feet, like I knew I would.
Now, that I have gotten through the adjustment period, I am ready to face the choice that I made. So, here we are. In case you were wondering what was taking me so long to get back to writing, that was it. I’m back in a good place and more than excited to write more.
I promise I’ll make plenty more mistakes and have plenty of things to say, probably very soon.
And if not?
Oh well!
Love always,
Kristin
love always, kristin 
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