Well here’s something I didn’t think I would be writing at 2am on a Monday morning. Shows what plays on my mind when I can’t sleep, huh?
Long time, no see, WordPress. You’ve given me so much more trouble than you’re worth, if I’m honest. I find it hard to post to you anymore, because I know who reads my blog and I know what they think of me. Still, I’m a stubborn bitch, and I refuse to delete years of my life again. It just means I have about 40-50 drafts that need uploading because I was too scared of what people think.
This isn’t the first time this blog has given me issues either. I wrote a post for an estranged family member a long long time ago, for his birthday. I didn’t use his name, because you read about weird “twists of fate” online and even though rationally I knew it would never happen, I didn’t want to risk him seeing it. That was a big mistake. See, this post was really vague, for the reason I mentioned above. I mentioned loving this person despite the fact they didn’t know I existed, how much I wanted to be at the moment where I could hug them and get to know them, and then I wished them happy birthday. The thing is, a (male) friend of mine shares that birthday, and his girlfriend at the time assumed it was about him. Yeah, that didn’t go down nicely. I understood why she would think so, but I explained the situation to her, and she said we were fine. We were not fine. What originally was just a simple misunderstanding became paranoia, jealousy, and a whole load of anxiety. I used to post about it a lot, in little chunks, hoping that she’d read all of my little disclaimers and finally believe me. You can probably find them if you can be bothered to wade through the pit that is my blog.
Anyway,since then, I stopped using my life as inspiration for blog posts. Here and there you may find something, like my post on living with someone with PDA syndrome, or one about an old friend of mine cutting me out of his life (a.k.a an unnecessarily bitchy post written by a hurting teenage girl in an attempt to feel better). But for the most part, my posts -and poems especially- are written with the use of personas. For anyone unfamiliar with the term, a persona is basically a character or situation that isn’t your own, but you write it as if it was. For example when a book is in first person, the use of a persona (the protagonist) allows the author to write and think as feel as though they were the character without actually experiencing their hardships. But I digress.
I don’t write from experience very often anymore. I write from prompts sent to me by internet friends and random readers and tumblr followers. I write from fairy tales and myths and lore (pretty much anything to do with the ocean or sunshine has come from this really great book about sirens I read as a kid, I’ll have to dig it up and share the name). I write from random little ideas that pop into my head to see how fluent it would be to write a book about; 9 times out of 10 it’s nothing ever comes of it.
So here is my final disclaimer before I hopefully swing back to normal on my blog.
Most of my blog posts are not about actual people or events, and if they are, they probably aren’t about people you know. My life has changed a lot in a year. I’m not the same person I was back at secondary. I have a completely different set of friends, and while I miss my old ones, I get that people change and drift apart. I’m not as bitter about old events anymore. Old grudges I had before I came to college are gone, because honestly, life is too short to carry hormone-fuelled arguments around with you all the time. Humans are messy and unpredictable and we all have feelings and we all screw up. I was going through a lot back then. I had family drama that I’m not going to go into, and I was mourning a friend that sadly passed away. I was in pain and struggling and I blamed my friends for leaving me. They didn’t, for the most part. I pushed them away, and I was too deep in my despair to see it was happening. It was a mistake I made, and I regret it but I can’t change it. I didn’t tell them what was going on inside my head but I expected them to understand what I was going through, and that was unfair. I know a couple of them read my blog from time to time, and I’m sorry for everything I did back then. I obviously was looking at my life subjectively and didn’t understand what was going on, but I’ve taken a step back since then and seen things how they really were. I’m sorry for all the times I expected you to be there for me despite me not being there for you, and I’m sorry for all the times I thought being a good friend meant giving one person my undivided attention. I was in the wrong, and while I know I can’t change the things I said or did, I hope we can move past then one day. I needed some time by myself to get myself together, and I really am sorry that I couldn’t explain that, because at the time I didn’t understand it myself. I must have made it seem like I wanted to get away fron you, when in reality I needed to get away from the person I was, and I guess I couldn’t do that with you guys around to remind me of all of the shitty things I went through. That wasn’t your fault, but I was in such a horrible messy state that I pushed you away anyway. You couldn’t have helped me even if you tried when I was like that, I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t exactly a well functioning human being. Like I said, I was changing. Off came the hair, more and more for each bad event I faced, each time a different colour when I wanted to escape the person I was at the time. I found that if you change the way you look, and you don’t recognise yourself in the mirror, it’s easier to make a change in your personality. It’s like playing a character until they become you. Of course, you can never escape your own life, and I wasn’t trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. But it’s easier to accept what’s going on if it feels like it isn’t happening to you. I don’t know, I can’t explain it very well. All I know is, I’m a different person, and I wanted to apologise for the people I hurt while I was focusing on myself. They say you need to crack a few eggs to make an omelette but there’s no need to smash the entire box.
Wow, that post was just meant to be a disclaimer to end rumours. I guess that’s what late night posting does to you. I really do hope that this clears stuff up and you can forgive me- but if not, I understand, and I hope you’re doing well.