Memories Make Us Forgetful

Hey, guys.

So, today I’ve been thinking a lot about kids.

And for once, it has nothing to do with wanting them or not wanting them.

My biological clock is completely OUT of the picture on this one, though the problems that surround it are still not completely absent from my daily thoughts; as those are the thoughts that perplex me quite often.

No. Today I was thinking of kids and their memories. I want to conduct an experiment here, so comment below if you want.

Gather up all of your clearest memories of who you were or what you wanted before you hit age… 10, let’s say. How many are there? Who were you? What were you like? Do you remember every detail of yourself?

It’s weird, right? You can’t. Not completely, anyway. Not like the memories we had during high school or middle school, even.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this all day and wondering… what if we lost who we used to be in place of who we’ve become? Did we become someone our child selves would have hated? Or would we be our own hero? What made us change so drastically? And, if we had a recollection of all our memories, with complete clarity, would we be able to pinpoint the moment or the influence that so drastically rocked us at our core?

This has been bothering me all day, because I cannot for the life of me, remember who I was… as a child. I remember things like, what toys I played with and the color of my room… but what made me want that toy? Why did I like that color? What was I thinking about back then? And most importantly… what made us forget?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just babbling about nothing, but I felt the thought was drastic and important enough to try to get it down into feasible words and utterings.

I don’t know.

I just feel like lately, I’ve been having an inner battle with myself and I think I want to try to backtrack to the exact point that happened… what made me dislike myself? I used to be so content and carefree… when did that all change?

When, did I change? -Dee

Screw Valentine’s Day: Pun Intended

Hey, guys.

It’s the worst fucking day of the year.

Valentine’s Day.

They should call it, “Disappointment Day” or “That Day in The Middle of Tax Season” or “Gain Ten Pounds Eating Shitty Chocolate Then Getting Drunk Off Your Ass and Watching {INSERT SHITTY ROMANCE MOVIE HERE} Day.”

Because any of those titles are more fitting than fucking Valentine’s Day.

I guarantee you NOBODY even knows who Saint Valentine was.

Do you? Seriously. Comment below if you do. Bonus points if you know what the fuck he has to do with Hallmark/Whitman’s/Teddy Bears.

Cause I sure don’t.

Look. I’m not one of those sour chicks that hates the day because some fuckwad boy back in middle school didn’t draw me a heart or give me a card on the day we had to come in and exchange with the whole rest of the class.

I’m the girl who doesn’t understand the hype. Why do we need to pin human affection on one fucking day? Who needs a forty pound teddy bear to validate their relationship? Who needs to be let down because your S.O. couldn’t afford that diamond bracelet you really wanted on THIS. SPECIFIC. DAY?

What is with the pressure, people?

Yes, I admit… it would be nice, for once, to be surprised and swept off my feet with something incredibly sweet and unexpected. But Valentine’s Day? Where’s the romance in that? Everyone KNOWS you’re gonna go do something romantic with the person you love/like. There’s no surprise factor. No spontaneity. It’s mostly just a mass disappointment for those expecting that one big gesture and going through the whole day, never to receive it.

I’m not sour on the concept. I’m sour on the pressure it puts on everyone. I’m sour on the way it makes lonely people feel. I’m sour on the way it makes taken people feel when they didn’t get what they wanted. I’ve been all of those people at some point, on this day.

That is why I hate this day and why it shouldn’t really matter. One day cannot define your love life, that takes many days, many gestures, and way less pressure.

If you’re like me, fuck it. Be your own Valentine. Treat yourself. Do what you would do for the only love in your life that matters. Yourself. That’s what the day should be called, “Love Yourself Day.”

Although, that should be an everyday thing too. Right? -Dee

Finding Happiness

Hey, guys.

So lately, Depression, my unwanted mistress, has been looming around me and doesn’t seem to get the hint that I no longer want her icy cold embrace. If you too suffer from her suffocation, you know how it goes.

I’ve been battling to get out of bed, neglecting my responsibilities, ignoring phone calls, and watching an INSANE amount of Netflix.

It’s been an ongoing war within me for quite some time, we’re talking years. Decades.

This year has been especially hard, even though we’re only two months into it.

My bills have been multiplying, yet despite my efforts, my income has been the same. (I’m lying, it’s gotten lower.)

The job hunt continues, with not much promise ahead. Despite my degree(s) and various bullet-pointed treasures scattered throughout my resume.

I’m living alone now, as my S.O. cannot afford to live with me anymore. That has also taken its toll on our overall relationship, and talks of breaking up have surfaced, more than once. As of now, we’re still together. So. There’s your silver lining.

He also took the dog. So the nights have been quiet and much less hairy… but that has only made my heart heavier and my tears more frequent.

Loneliness is at a high point, although I have an amazing group of friends who’ve tried their best to lift my spirits. They’ve gotten me out of the house when I needed it most, talked me down from the darkest corners of my mind, and assured me that things will work out, somehow.

Things… are still not great. I won’t lie. It’s been repetitive and not very promising.

However, you can’t force life. You can only keep going. If you need a day in bed, take it. But the following day you owe it to yourself to get up and accomplish at least two things, no matter how small they may be. Two things accomplished, is all you need. It’s more than you did yesterday and that’s enough. Keep adding two things a day to your list and soon, things will start getting better. They’ll make the future seem less bleak. It takes two to make things go right, or so the song says.

Just, keep that in mind. And tell Depression to fuck off. -Dee