February 24, 2012

• 8 years.

  I've been on Xanga for eight. fucking. years. To me that almost just seems ridiculous, but at the same time I know there's people who've been on longer than I have. I wanted to do this neat little introspective post about my time here, how I've changed, blah blah blah.

  But you know what? I started this blog only a couple weeks after I turned 15. I'm not 23. I think we can all agree that I've changed a lot. There's a huge emotional difference between the two ages. But at the same time, a lot has stayed the same. I still have shitty, weird dreams. I'm still ridiculously insecure about almost everything I do. I still wait for the cool, collected, almost cold guy from the popular shoujo anime to come and whisk me away, even though I'm deeply in love with my very non-cool-anime-guy boyfriend. I still have panic attacks and hide in closets where I cry myself to sleep.

  But the differences? The differences still mean more. I'm still insecure, yes, but I also know my worth now. I'm not as shy, I'll speak up for myself and others. I still hate most people, but I've learned to accept that nobody will live up to my expectations and I can fake it and sometimes even enjoy conversations with random people. My panic attacks are few and far between anymore. I don't binge eat like I used to. I'm generally happy with my life, where I was miserable before. I've lost and gained and lost some more friends.

  The fact is, eight years is a long time when you consider the ages. My life is absolutely nothing like I expected it to be like when I was 15. I had high hopes of getting into a cool college and running away. I've run away--twice, really--but the cool college never came. I never got the cool degree to get the cool job. I still kick myself for not doing that, I still kick myself for the first time I ran away from everything. But I also know I wouldn't be where I am without those experiences.

  When I first joined Xanga, @arenadi was probably one of the most well known people on here. I had followed his blog for a while before actually creating a xanga myself, and I took disappeared pretty much around the same time he took his last long break from xanga. Between thousandthdish and chow. When I was 14-15, he was the ABSOLUTE coolest person ever. I had the biggest crush and I wanted nothing more than the run away and become his bff where we'd hang out on the beach and drink while watching the waves.

  We're now actually bffs, I still think he's a pretty cool dude (let's be honest, I'm way cooler ;P ), and I no longer want to jump his bones. Though I think I was promised mai tais and dancing that I may take him up on one of these days. When I was 15, there's no way I pictured myself AIMing him while I was at work about being an International Madame.

  When I was 15, I never imagined walking to Fridays from my apartment with my boyfriend of 3 years, eating ribs, and talking about WWE wrestling almost the whole time, and enjoying it. I didn't picture myself heading down to VA for a weekend to play Munchkin with friends. I didn't, honestly, picture myself even really being alive at this point.

  I thought at 15 that the darkness would have consumed me by now. That one night I wouldn't have come out of my closet. That the panic attack would just swallow me whole, and at times I was okay with that. More often than note I was okay with just laying there in the dark, my knees to my chest, not being able to breathe. I was okay thinking "this is it", I was okay thinking I wasn't going to wake up.

  Now, at 23, that idea terrifies me. I'd probably have a panic attack just thinking about it for too long. I still have mood swings that I hate, but at least I no longer wish for that. I no longer fall asleep in closets and hope for death. I no longer sit in front of the refrigerator at 2 am eating everything I can get my hands on until I literally cannot get anything else in my mouth. I no longer yearn for absolute silence because I rarely got it at home.

  At 23, I'm happy. I love life. I love myself, though that's never changed. Years ago, when I first got into Anne Rice, there was only one quote from Lestat that I loved, that I wrote on everything and remembered like the back of my hand.

  "I don't like myself, you know. I love myself, of course. I'm devoted to myself till my dying day. But I don't like myself."

  I never liked myself. You couldn't pay me to like myself. I hated myself. But now? Now I like myself. Before I'd never be friends with myself, but now I would be. I'd be my own friend now. I'm willing to be yours. I'm willing to let people in, to get close, to make sacrifices for others.

  And that? That's worth all the differences.
  

  • 7:07 pm
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