GLAD YOU'RE NOT HERE! OR, WHY I NEVER SEND YOU POSTCARDS FROM HELL


I had a marvelous discussion with a friend today about why I stop myself from posting "ZOMG LIFE IS SO FUCKING HARD AND I REALLY HATE ALL THE THINGS AND I DON'T KNOW WHY I KEEP LIVING!" on the internet when, in reality, I feel this way a lot more than you'd think.

There are normal things in life that get to me just like everyone else: a tough day at work, $5000 worth of dental bills (four root canals! Yay!), a car that acts out, straight up rejection, moments of body hate, feelings of overwhelming exhaustion... yes, I have those things. I also have bad days where I know it's just my ghetto brain running on straight venom and vitirol. I'm convinced that my brain thinks it can kill me and somehow keep on living. Silly brain. But in all honesty, mental illness fucks me up, y'all. I have misfiring receptors that sometimes make me want to quit everything I love, sabotage all relationships, burn all my important papers, never get out of bed and sometimes not live at all. While these times are less than ever before, they still happen. Blech times a million.

So, since I'm all about honesty on teh interwebs, I often question myself. Why I don't write while I'm in the middle of  hell with these issues? I know for a fact that I don't want you all to think that the gal who speaks the truth is forgetting an important part of life. God knows we see enough blogs on the internet that ignore the hard stuff in the first place, and I don't wanna perpetuate any more of that glossy shit. So WHY JES? Why do you not write us while you're a hot mess?

Because.

Because it's just not constructive. For you, or for me.

Because sometimes (while it feels real to me) my mindset isn't an honest representation of life at all.

Because the perspective after the experience is worth more than the spewing of awful in the middle.

Walking the line between honest representation and destructive behavior is tricky, and takes a lot of thought on my part. I want you to know that my life can be fucking fabulous AND ridiculously hard. I want you to know that if you experience something similar, you're not alone. I want you to know that perfection doesn't exist, and that's okay. I want you to know that I have so much happy along with the so much sad. And I want to give you all of this information without it being screened through any lens that alters the integrity of my statements. I also want you to have the perspective of what happens after; what the end of the story looks like. I want you to have the full picture.

I definitely don't want to be the person who always says things like "THERE IS A SOLUTION FOR EVERYTHING AND ITS ALL GOING TO BE LISA FRANK RAINBOWS AND PRETTY BOTTLED WATER FROM FIJI AND KITTENS COVERED IN GLITTER!" because sometimes life isn't that way. BUT. Sometimes it is, and I wanna share that too. So, while I'm feeling like the ultimate Chemically Imbalanced Piece of Shit- I utilize my support system, check my medication/exercise/eating habits, surround myself with positive people, and stay busy until my brain decides it's done throwing a tantrum. Only then, when I come back, do I have things to share from the experience. And share I will!

Perspective. It's super important.

So.
I probably wont be writing you straight from Hell.
But I will pick up a postcard and send it when I get back with great anecdotes from the trip.

Want me to send you one?
I'll send you a postcard if you send me a kitten covered in glitter!
Deal?

Guys. Don't leave me hanging.

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