Updated: Apr 21, 2020
RESTLESS. Can't seem to sit still because there is ALWAYS something else to do. When I finally do sit down, I can't even remember why I sat down in the first place. OH, to write. Wait, there goes a message from my mom. No, No, No! I am going to sit here with my half of a bottle of wine in a mickey mouse mug and WRITE! Sometimes there's so much swishing through my head. So this time, I am just going to sit here..... and WRITE. There is so much bubbling up inside. Is it the excitement of starting this new journey of writing, Blogging, etc. Is it that dang Orange rose? Is it the therapy session that I just left? Is it the sadness I feel because I can't call my aunt who had the ability to make my life make sense in 2.5 seconds? Is it nothing at all?
RESTLESS. It's apparently called my twenties; the decade that was supposed to be regrettably fun! The decade that I was supposed to make all the mistakes I would later learn from. Tatted, pierced, party, laugh, take amazing selfies, and have a THOUSAND friends! [I do take pretty cute pics though LOL]. I "Should, Coulda, Woulda" been in a completely different position in life. Married; possibly with children. Degreed; two times over. Not rich but financially stable in a 2-3 bedroom Brownstone home in the city. Wise and in charge! [Insert Easy Button]. I mean doing the damn-thing. Yeah I said damn, didn't I? See, nobody ever told me about the second puberty! Where my thoughts flip, emotions go haywire, I want to hug and cuss out almost everybody. Aunt Flo pounces in on my ovaries every 2-6 weeks, and my face breaks out like I've got the Chicken Pox.
RESTLESS! I'm supposed to be that Christian and has THEE answer, not the one secretly seeking for it from "health professionals" and "non-professionals" all over the world. Trying to be fixed; like a dog so I can no longer reproduce the crazy I feel sometimes. At TWENTY-eight, I'm exhausted. Not even from any one particular season of life. I'm just tired [pronounced: TYED with a soft d]. And being tired and restless don't mix. So I find myself on these "temporary" legal drugs. One, in particular that makes me more restless, and increases the possibility of life and death so we have to take something else to balance out.
JUST RESTLESS!!! Typically, in blogs and articles there's some sort of magical life lesson, diet, deity, or resource that gets pushed. However, I am a mess! A HOT ZESTY MUSTY TANGLED MESS!!! One, that likely won't be fixed. And for today, right now, that's okay. It's the step I've taken, as small as it may be. It wasn't until recently that I knew unconditional love could be tangible outside of God. That I could be fully accepted by a human being without conditions or alternative motives. It wasn't until about a week ago that I knew it was a possibility for myself. Typing through these tears [beautiful, fat & out of shape, hardworking, in debt, loving, grieving, inconsistent, caring, living out of a parent's living room, in more debt, emotionally unstable, voluptuous, writing, singing, playing, cooking, LOVES REALLY HARD, heartbroken, unsure, excited, scared, music loving, and Christian} is likely one of the hardest places I've found myself in a long time. But IT IS where I've found myself. Restless.