морошка

I still come here sometimes. And every time I get so nostalgic and sentimental thinking of all the people I've met & loved & fallen out of love & cherished. Those years on Tumblr have shaped me into the person I am right now. I've never felt more free than I was here, and I have never felt more trapped than I was in here. I was myself -- and at the same time I was someone else, someone I wanted to be.

I still check on people I've met here -- some of them I follow on Fb or Insta, some of them I rarely stumble upon online. And -- if you guys are reading this -- all of you became great people with amazing hearts. I am proud of you.

hello, Tumblr.

I like to think these are my memories. I don’t have to store them inside my head, I just have to come back here from time to time to revisit them, to hug my younger self, to say everything is going to alright even though sometimes I’m still scared of future.  This is my little box of secrets, box I’ve hid and box I’ve lost. This is a part of me in this box, a part of me who had to grow up but couldn’t. A part of me so wounded and hurt that it couldn’t breathe. A part of me who survived.  And this is me now saying hi to everything I wanted to forget but realised I have to keep it and learn on my past mistakes. This is me now, proud of myself, yet still learning how to be an adult. Happy, scared, sad, free, loved, content with all I have now. This is all me. Hello, you’ll be alright.

I remember, couple of years ago when Adele’s Someone Like You came out on the radio, I was in Paris. It was a cold autumn day, I was in a taxi and the driver made the radio louder. I still remember that feeling, those grey skies, that smell of the river and the sound of the wind. I was just sitting there, singing along quietly and saying goodbye to someone who made my heart feel so bittersweet. I will never forget this moment, it’s in my veins, every time I hear this song, I go back to that autumn in Paris, when skies were falling down on me and I couldn’t help but watch them crushing me into pieces. Of course it wasn’t the greatest love of all, it was just special and losing something special is always hurtful. Time goes by, my heart doesn’t feel so wounded anymore, I am myself and I am grateful for that and for the past. But still, when I hear the first chords, I quietly whisper to my old friend to never forget me. And maybe, just maybe, be my friend again. And I wish him best things in life because he deserves them. It’s autumn in Paris again but I’m not there anymore. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLQl3WQQoQ0

This is a reminder (for myself) that it’s very important to love yourself.  Loving myself was the greatest gift (besides feminism) I gave to myself. I couldn’t believe how easy it is to love myself. Hating yourself is the hardest way to live, I’ve wasted so much energy on that, I felt drained all the time, I felt insecure, exhausted and apathetic because hate is a very strong feeling that sucks everything from your soul and turn it towards you. Loving myself made me feel lighter and brighter. I don’t care if I look bad on photos and if someone eventually posts any of them. It’s even funny to see my face getting all weird on the photos and sharing the most embarrassing ones with friends. I don’t feel guilty anymore after I ate another slice of pizza and I don’t think that people count every bite of food I put in my mouth (even if they do – who cares). I don’t feel like a pig anymore, I can undress in front of my friends or wear a skirt without thinking how my legs look. And I don’t surround myself with toxic people, they are long gone and forgotten, I don’t fall for them and let them treat me like shit. I was surrounded by all this guilt and hate for many years just because I’ve felt like I don’t belong in the entire picture of the universe and now... I still don’t know how to fit in well, but I no longer care. And that’s why loving yourself is the most important thing to accomplish during your young years, – after that you’ll literally won’t have time for that. So just... start it, and if you fail – start over, because you have to fall in love with your mistakes to forgive yourself for them. And that’s the way to self–love. 

To a person (persons?) who sent me messages few days ago. I appreciate everything you’ve said. I wouldn’t be myself if I haven’t met some wonderful people here. For me this place was like... a pan for dough. It shaped me, made me grow some confidence, made me think different about myself and the world. I come here sometimes to share my thoughts but usually I just check out people I’ve been close with so I know they are okay and watch them grow up and become wonderful persons. So I think there is no need to be anonymous, let’s talk without all that stuff. If we were friends you should know that I miss you, if we were not, let’s be, why not?

People always told me to get married to a person who loves me more than I love him. This idea seemed so strange to me because I was always the one who was obsessed with relationships and love.  And then I met him. Now every time he asks me when we are going to get married, I don’t know what to say. Not that I don’t like being in relationships (sometimes I don’t), I just don’t feel that being that serious with someone works for me. I don’t like taking care of someone (except my pets), I don’t like sharing a bed with someone, coming home from work to him cooking dinner for us, I don’t like changing my habits, not being able to watch some tv–show and eat something all alone.  I feel like a hypocrite who asked for love and for a person to share days with and now I am really fond of myself being alone and thinking only about myself. Maybe I am not made for it, who knows. Only time will tell, right?

My life has become so normal. I like my job, I found new friends, sometimes I miss the old ones but just because of the memories we share. I am calm and I don’t rush myself into any kind of relationships. The only time I feel uncomfortable is when men try to approach me but that’s it. 

But the more normal my life becomes the more I want to run away. You know, the older you get the less possible it is to run away from your life. Suddenly you find yourself surrounded by circumstances you can’t overcome. You get pets, relationships, jobs, new apartments, you start having a plan for your next 5-6 months and it feels like you’re an anchored ship. A ship that was made to explore the world but is trapped in a dead calm sea. 

I don’t miss my insanity, I don’t miss the days I couldn’t get up, the days when I felt all the weight of the world on my shoulders, I don’t miss my toxic relationships that made me believe in some mystical concept of love, I don’t miss being destructive to myself and others. I just miss being able to escape and run away without any regrets.

My biggest fear is to become one of those persons who dreamt big but ended up working for the same place for 30 years and counting how much money they can spend on christmas gifts this year. I have always hated that. I hated the idea of waking up in 40s in a bed with a man you don’t love anymore, going to a job you despise, talking to people who don’t make your brain orgasm with the ideas. I hated the idea of not seeing the world, not traveling to the hidden waterfalls on the Cape of Good Hope or not seeing the Northern Lights. 

I am more than that. And I want to run away. Again.

And I'm sorry, Andrew. I don't know what made you think I'm evil (probably I did by being clingy and passive aggressive) but I am not. I was just trying to be real friends like years ago and didn't succeed. Probably you will never read it, but if you do, I'm sorry. And I'm still here if you need a friend.

When I come back here, it’s usually late at night and I finally give in. This blog has become some sort of my diary which I’d never reread, because I hide my deepest and most negative feelings here. I am doing fine which surprises me because I don’t think I’ve been feeling fine for such a long period of time since I’ve turned 16. That’s when the depression’s come into my life and decided to stay. I don’t think I’ve beaten it completely because such nights as this one still happen once in a while. But I am definitely not the sad girl who avoided people and going out. 

One year and a half ago my abusive relationships were finally over. I was really happy about it and I could never think that one day I would face the consequences, some kind of side effects I’ve developed while I was with that person. A month later I’ve found myself in an even bigger depression, surrounded by suicidal thoughts I could’ve never talked about to anyone and I did things I am not proud about. I’ve always thought of myself as of an extremely strong person. So when one night I’ve got this big idea of suicide, I felt terrified. I felt like I’ve lost the last piece of me that I've been keeping safe, the sanity, the survival instinct. I didn’t know how to prevent myself from doing what I’ve planned to do so I’ve left some kind of an online suicidal note to a person who was close to me at that moment and finally, when I hit “send”, I understood how absolutely and entirely stupid I was. They say it’s always darkest before the dawn and I still don’t want to believe it because I’m afraid of the darkness that comes after the day is gone. But last summer it felt like that, it felt like darkness and I was acting like some sort of a housewife who always smiles and never tells anything to anybody until the day she blows her brains out with a gun. 

This is why I don’t understand why people romanticize depression, why they make it look trendy, why some of them pretend they have it. Depression is ugly. It turns you into some monster who always pities himself. It makes you act like a douchebag and lose people. It makes the world seem like a very dark place. 

I haven’t been able to bring some people back who I’ve lost due to my not-very-good behavior during depression. I was an obsessed and whiny girl who acted like she is 15 and craves for attention. And I have no one to blame but myself. Or... wait, I can blame my ex, because of his gaslighting and abusive behavior I’ve become really unstable and absolutely sure that everything I do is weird and crazy. But a huge part of the guilt is still on me, because I’ve let myself go further and deeper into the darkness that I should have. 

If you can beat the depression, do it. Do it to save yourself. The guy I’ve met on Tumblr, Robert, he was depressed too and one day he just ended his life and I can’t stop thinking what’d have happened if he (or any of his real life or online friends) could have prevented it. Maybe he would be a happy handsome young man and we would hang out somewhere in Boston and drink ice tea and watch the seagulls. If you can keep the people who you’ve offended because of depression or any other disorder, please keep them and make them feel safe around you because they suffer too. Better days will come. I know it. I can promise you this. Maybe not tomorrow, not next week, but they will come and only you can make them happen. I am not completely healed or how do you say it. Sometimes when I am tired or out of energy or stay awake for too long, I fear it’s another depression coming. But I am just adjusting to the normal human phycological condition and some things seem really weird to me after 10 years of being depressed. Don’t let yourself turn your life into a complete mess like I’ve done. Fight.

Please God, forgive these fucking bastards I have to deal with.