I’m a control freak¬†

Yep, you read that right. A straight up, plan everything to a T, determine how things will go, controlling control freak.

I’m 25. I can admit that about myself. I’ve done a lot the past year that’s been a total quarter life crisis wake up call.

I couldn’t control my ex dying. I can’t control that I, unlike what I thought, have not found a house worth buying yet. I can’t control my coworkers. I can’t control what occurs around me. I can’t control how people treat me.

However, I can control how I react. I can control who I let into my personal life. I can say no to a house I do not want. I can miss my ex, without guilt. I can kick people out who treat me wrong.

Here’s to 2016. Here’s to letting God have that control that I so badly want. Here’s to having control over not having any control. Here’s to living life and laughing and crying without any guilt.

Here’s to no control whatsoever. 

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Dreams can heal

On June 28, 2015, my ex boyfriend died of a drug overdose. He was 25 and an amazing person. Heroin stole him from the people who loved him.

But since I don’t feel like I’m drowning today, that’s all I will say about that. 

I had a wonderful dream last night. I was back in college for a race that was running and swimming. My friends were all there, and all of a sudden, he walked up to me and said hello. 

Everyone around me kept whispering that they thought he was dead. He told me that he was there to be my partner and helps me through the race. I jumped into his arms (he was 6’4″ to my 5’4″) and hugged him. I wasn’t sad. I was just so happy he was there.

As the race went on, I realized how healthy he looked. And further, I realized that he never left my side. When we were together and he relapsed, I would lose him often for 30 minutes at a time. He would make an excuse, but I knew what he was doing. There were no needle marks either. I kept touching his arms and noticed they were clear. His scar on his forearm (he put his arm through a glass door when he was a kid) was even gone. I even told him I was sorry to be so clingy to him, but I missed him so much and he looked so happy and healthy.

He smiled at me and said “I’m happy and healthy where I am now, babe.” And then I woke up.

I’ve struggled so badly with his passing. Contrary to what you may think, I’ve never been a drug user. I just loved him so much it didn’t matter. I still love him. I can’t understand the addiction that overtook his life, nor can I understand why God took him.

But I am so thankful for the time I spent with him. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I am even more thankful for God and him coming into my dreams and telling me that he’s okay; he’s clean, sober, happy, and God’s got him.

If he can’t be on earth with us, I couldn’t ask for much else.

I miss you, babe; always. 

Sorry I’ve been gone so long

It really sucks when people let you down..family, friends, coworkers, etc. But it sucks even more when it’s a significant other.

I don’t know about you, but I think one of the best parts about being in a relationship is having that person there for you. They celebrate triumphs, they commiserate failures, and they squelch fears. They take our hand and tell us to relax. They sit by when you need to just unload about the stressful day you have. They laugh when you tell a funny story or something humorous that happened to you. They’re just…there to live life with you.

My on-again, off-again ex and I had been on-again here lately. We were talking daily, he visited me, among other things. We had talked about getting back together, but he had some personal issues to deal with before. I was fine with that. I understand and can respect waiting until you give your all in the relationship.

Until a few days ago.

I despise requalifying with my firearm for work. I just get so nervous and work myself up for no reason. It’s fair to say I dread it.

I had discussed this with him and he had said some kind words to me. However, the day of, I heard nothing from him. No words of encouragement. No words asking how it went. And a full 36 hours later, still nothing.

I was upset, but then it hit me. I am not his girlfriend. He has gone out of his way to make sure that I’m not. He doesn’t have to listen to my fears or be there for me or help my anxiety. He doesn’t owe me jack shit.

And that made my heart break again…just a tiny bit.

(By the way….I rocked the fuck out of it).

It’s easy to confuse being grateful with being in love

That quote is from my all time favorite book, “You Remind Me of You” by Eireann Corrigan. Whenever I have a question about why I’m doing something, that always pops in my head.

It’s also easy to confuse being comfortable with being in love.

It’s also easy to confuse being nostalgic with being in love.

When someone returns to my life that I feel I didn’t get the right amount of closure on (or when I feel that it just wasn’t over), I seem to forget the bad times and just remember the good. I forget the 6 months it took me to get over him. I forgot how often we argued (once a day). I forgot that he would purposely push my buttons to try and get me to crack, like it was humorous.

Love stories also glamorize the idea that if someone returns to your life after leaving it, it’s “meant to be.” What that fairytale fails to mention is that that door they strolled through should have been dead bolted, double locked, and sealed with concrete. Instead, we decide that it’s a sign (which it is- a sign that they don’t have boundaries, can bend your feelings to suit them, and have little respect for you) that we should try again with thoughts of rainbows and puppies and marriage in our heads.

And then I act surprised when he plays with my feelings to bait me, and then stomps on them again. And I’m shocked when he can’t make time to see me because he’s too “busy.” And I’m floored when he ¬†tells me he’s just not sure he’d want to get back together (but hey, we can still sleep together, right?).

Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting different results. It’s time for me to get off the roller coaster ride.

Snapchats from Satan

Do you ever look at a situation that’s effecting your life and wonder how you would’ve handled it 6 months, 1 year, or 5 years ago?

I’ve noticed a change in myself recently in the way I handle a failed relationship. For instance, I went on a date last Friday, and there was no spark. It was fine, nothing bad happened, but there was nothing there. A year ago, I’m sure I would’ve thought that I should force it or else I’d be alone for the rest of my life. I’ve grown enough that I know I should just let it go.

Turns out I was right, too. He spent last night staring at my roommate and I from across the bar and shit talking the “girls in the gray sweatshirts.”

I also noticed it for the month and a half that my ex was trying to come back into my life (and my vagina. Is that crass?). He said some really mean shit to me (Ie: he couldn’t treat me like a decent human being, he was just incapable of it), which would have sent me over the edge when I dated him over a year ago. But instead, I changed his name to Satan in Snapchat and my phone, told him good luck with his sad little life, and rolled on.

Life is all about perspective, right? We can allow someone’s actions to ruin our day and our attitude, which, in turn, allows us to become someone the people who truly love and care about us have no desire to be around. Or, we can decide to not drink the miserable Kool Aid of the person who is trying to drag us to their level, laugh, and move on.

Every day is a chance to be a better, happier person. Every day we have the chance to give something to the world and be kind to those around us. You can’t do that if you’re busy playing into other people’s bullshit. You can’t do that if you check your phone every 5 minutes for a Snapchat from Satan. Instead, we need to put the phone down, smile more, and hush that demon voice in your head that tells you that you can’t do something or you’re fat or you’ll never be married or that you can’t accomplish your goals.

Plus, who wants to have a Snapchat argument with Satan anyway?