About me, on the eve of 30

My mom and I were close at one time. When I was little, I was at her side all the time. I miss my mom even though she is still alive. She is still my mom, but she isn’t at the same time. I guess it falls under “it’s complicated.” God, I hate that phrase.

I have no idea how I lived this long. I remember being 16 and not believing I’d make it to 30. This is all so strange and wonderful. I’m so excited for what’s to come in my life. It’s almost as if I’m outside my body and I’m watching myself meander in and out of experiences and emotions and discoveries about everything and anything.

Being married isn’t for wimps. And I like the guy. Oy. Onward and upward, right? Right.

Fear is a bitch. And so is comfort. Both hold me back from so much. If you have any tips on how not to let the bitches get me down, let me know.

I am unsure about so much. Nearly everything. How can others be so sure about what they believe? You know, like God and how cool they are and what the weather will be like this weekend. HOW CAN YOU BE SO SURE?

I’m still baffled by how I lost myself for so long. I have to let that go because it doesn’t matter how I got lost. I was lost. End of that story. I’m slowly not being so lost anymore. And I love it.

I miss my grandma. My memories are fading of her and me. It’s more like I remember having memories of us together, her voice, her laugh. I make a point to remember as much about her as I can every day because I don’t want to forget who she was. She was integral to my existence today.  I’m desperate to know that she would accept me today, and love me just like she did when I was little and she was alive.

You have no idea how much I love dinosaurs. Like, a-whole-fucking-lot. Same goes for scottie dogs and pin ups and fossils and fiestaware and Smokey Bear and taking pictures and hearing stories and writing and painting and finding connections with kindred spirits and taking pictures and reading and music and laughing, can’t forget the laughing. Not in that order. Or any order really.

Oh, god. Will I become my family? Because I don’t want to. Will mental illness and addiction and bad luck and poor coping skills take over my life? Not without a decent fight, at least.

I like you. Yeah, you. Thanks for reading. For serious! My cold black heart flutters whenever someone on the internet or in real life tells me they read my blog. They read what I wrote. Cool. Really, really cool.

Alright, 30. Let’s do this. 13 days and counting. I can’t wait!