that shit cray.

the unexamined life is not worth living...

sober. 

it's easier than some may realize to fall into a pattern of living that is somewhat problematic. 

it has been a long time since i have put my thoughts to the page. daily blogging was the norm for me for many years, and was an outlet to my thinking. online debate fueled the questions and answers that haunted my thoughts. the near immediate gratification of a school assignment returned with glowing reviews helped keep myself confident that my thought processes were intact and followed some sort of order. 

somewhere along the way the questions got bigger than the answers. somewhere along the way i discovered that my map was off. the world wasn't flat, the sun did not revolve around me anymore. 

suddenly it had all changed. or i had. 

like feet suddenly squished into shoes a bit too small, i realized my 'prince charming' too, no longer fit. everything from my gender identity to my hopes and my dreams. what once had brought me indifference now brought me rage. causes and ideas i once could not understand now became issues of identity for me. 

and to say goodbye to myself meant to say goodbye to everything. but grad school. that had to continue. it was the last scrap of me. and i did it. sloppily, imperfectly, with so many tears and a few mistakes along the way. i took out of the experience some of my best friends, and ultimately my boyfriend now, too. 

the transition from party girl to girlfriend has been it's own journey, too. the death of one life leads to the birthing of a new life. and whatever you can bring along on that process ultimately becomes all that matters. the shreds of loyalty and of love are the authentic bits that flavor the dreadful reality of what makes this lived experience 'worth it.' 

if i may be so crass.

they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. but perhaps old dogs choose not to play the game anymore. 

attaining a masters degree during a pretty horrid recession and being unable to find work is pretty ironic. having finally gotten a job, and finally been able to purchase some usable but not quite necessary hot pink glittery pieces of furniture, i feel that i am finally pulling out of poverty mentality. 

and my scars are fading away and my skin has regained some glow, and my eyes have lost the despair. on most days. on the whole, i consider myself quite content. this is much to rejoice over, but also invokes some fear. to trust again, is to risk. to be alone is a guaranteed lifestyle. there may be surprises, but a hard persona has the same reaction to any stimuli and no matter what anybody does to you, if you don't give a fuck, they can't make you.

but love is risky. 

but then again, so is living authentically, and i think love is the byproduct or side effect of an authentic life. and authenticity can be found mingled within the use of substances, but i do not think can maintain a healthy growth there. 

finding myself sober at the end of nearly every day, and having some white wine fill some of my weekends has been a nice change. it's like i'm growing up. 

(don't worry, i still get sloppy and cray cray on occasion, just much fewer and farther between.)

i have a lot to do. i need to keep paying off the student loan i have, i have some personal debt to pay off from school, and rebuild my credit. i got to figure out what i need to do for my taxes. i need to hound my ex to push through the paperwork for my divorce. i need to keep reinforcing my puppy to poop outside (1 accident in three days at my house, and 1 at boo's!) i got to get back in the gym and sweat out all this bullshit and toxicity that i built up over the last few years. 

i have to pay it forward to my ankle i broke. to my face that i swelled, to my skin that i wrecked, to my psyche that i damaged, to my heart that was broke. i have yoga classes to master again, bags to kick, wrists to wrap, and ink to be tatted into me. 

i have so much more life, real life, to live. 

it feels overwhelming to know i have so far to go still to be a therapist, but i'm confident that i'll get there. for now i am miss holly again and i am learning much and finding challenges. it's interesting being much higher educated than your boss, and your bosses boss. i'm not the type to stress much off these things but it is pretty weird. 

i have many friends that i need to see more often again. it's hard when the heart meets another. it's magnetic. it's exactly what it should be. 

to be psychologically naked with another person is in my estimation, the highest form of intimacy. and trust may be the sexiest feature of a relationship. 

to see in imperfection, beauty. in annoyance, candor. in fear, still hope. 

to not know but to move forward, and to feel the pull of the vortex, and cling like hell to all that can be grabbed- feeling the pull beyond your control. 

it is only after we land, dizzy still with freedom, that we see what has landed with us, we see the faces and the eyes that look at us are filled with warmth and comfort, not with envy and deceit. 

one can weep for the life left behind. one can wish for that place of before, that no place like home. or one can find a home in a new place, with new friends, with new love. one can find that taking off the too tight slippers frees toes to wiggle, and hold firm now on dry ground with dreams up to the skies. 

one can do these things. one can find herself. one can create herself. one can make herself, yet again, once more.