In which a month of emotions throws up all over the blog post.

Over the past month, I've come to realize that I am a workaholic. Maybe it's because it's all I have to occupy my time these days, or maybe it stems from watching both my parents work endlessly my entire life. Either way, it has consumed me. I like to believe it's because I actually do care a lot about the business I work for, and it may be partially true, but I think boredom and loneliness also contribute to my 40+ work week.
I reread your post, Laura and I think I'm also scared. Actually, I know I'm terrified. I want to travel and I want to do cool things with cooler people. I want to not worry so much about money, and not always be the responsible one.
I hate being the responsible one all the time. I know that in actuality it's who I am and I'll always be this way, but for once, I wish my best friends didn't look at me as the mom friend. I know this sounds really whiny and ridiculously stupid, and "'wow it must be so hard to be good, Grace your struggles are soooo real." and I really do realize this, but I don't know. It's hard to explain. Like, how can I talk about things I'm going through with people who are coming to me to tell me all about how they're currently screwing up their lives? Ugh. I hate myself. I hate how I can't actually talk out my problems, especially with the people who love me the most, and want to know the most. I just feel so stupid, or silly, or embarrassed and things never come out the right way.
Do you even know the amount of time I spend talking to myself? It's weird. I talk out my problems and I solve my problems, and I give myself pep-talks, or sometimes, on exceptionally dark days, I remind myself how much I really suck. But really. It's all day every day that I have to talk things out to myself. It's like, I'm the only one who will really listen without giving an opinion until I'm 1000% done with whatever needs to be said. And even then I don't always give advice, usually I nod and smile and say, "i don't know man."

Honestly guys, I've turned into an emotional mess over the past six months and I hate it. Something has come over me and I am terrible at life and I don't know how anyone puts up with me. I sometimes wish I could just take off and have some space from everything. Work, family, friends, boyfriend.


In some positive words, the spring weather is making me feel better about some things. Like the fact that there are beach days ahead and that ice cream is now socially acceptable to eat multiple times a week. And I can wear dresses more often. And my birthday is now only 4 months away. And it's on a Sunday so I wont have to work, and I can do what I want and appreciate life for a moment and I guess tonight was a terrible time to write a blog post. But I think I say that every month. So I guess nothing has changed.

Laura, if you actually read this, and if you actually made it all the way through this than I applaud you and officially knight you as the best person on the internet with the most patience.
Hopefully you'll write next week again.
<3 Grace

Also I know this is the worst blog post of all time, but it was necessary to just write and cry and listen to Mumford and let someone know a little bit of what goes on in my head.

Sorry there weren't any GIFs.

My name is Laura and I am an idiot.
    I'm also definitely breaking the "no post on Sundays" rule that I so vehemently insisted on making at the beginning of this year.
    But I had it in my mind that I was definitely posting the week of the 4th. And as usual, my math was off and I feel awful, because I got so annoyed that Mercy and Rose didn't post and then I went and did the same exact thing.
    Almost. I almost did the same exact thing. Except I'm here now.
    I'm going to respond to Grace's post now, because it was the only one written this past month:
    Grace, we all have feelings.
    Sometimes our hormones are coasting along perfectly at homeostasis, our menstrual cycle blissfully inactive, with perfect weather and a good song stuck in our heads and a date with The Cute Boy coming up.
    And other times it feels like every day of this past week has been Monday, and we have eleven adult responsibilities to complete, and we're running on crappy coffee and five hours of sleep and our messy buns aren't cute, they're legitimately messy buns.
    And it's important to know that our bad days are just as important as our good ones. That no matter where you're head is, your feelings are valid even if you want to punch a wall, or just curl up into the fetal position and cry.

***

    I understand being frustrated at us for being anemic in regards to remembering to post. And I apologize. I got so caught up in my ridiculous college life that I forgot to make a priority out of something which means so much to me, which I get to do with my three favorite people in the whole wide world.
    And I've been sad lately. I always get sad in the early springtime- the season changes, school gets more intense, and people graduate. These past four semesters have been a wild and wonderful blur, but I can't believe that I'm halfway done with college. Where did my life go? I want to enjoy every possible minute that I have left with the people I've met over the course of these past two years, but I have so much work to do that I can't do it all.
    I want to watch the sunset on the golf course with Rachel. I want to go to Ferris Acres Creamery with Libby. I want to have that Harry Potter movie marathon that Eugene and I have always talked about. I want to have dinner with Liam and Emily because we've been meaning to all semester but we never have the time.
    But I have classes, and I want to be a nurse, but I'm afraid of that transitional period between college and when I move out of my parents' house, because it's going to be scary and depressing and I'll have student loans up the wazoo to pay off.
    And I don't want to just settle down, have a small army of children and die. I want to see the world and make an impact.
    What if I never get to do that?
    For the first time in my life, I'm less afraid of ending up alone than I am of never going on an adventure to save the world.
    My thoughts are heavy tonight. I've been home for the majority of these past 24 hours, and whenever I spend a lot of time here I am reminded of the loneliness I felt in high school. It presses down on me and makes me tearful. I feel like nothing is ever going to change and I'm always going to live with my parents and never change anyone's lives.
    I have to remind myself that those are only lies. That God has a purpose for my life and it is my job to keep the faith and figure out just what He wants from me. But sometimes, when the sunset is just too beautiful or when I haven't seen my friends in awhile, it gets hard to believe.

    ***

    This post was supposed to be something lovely and uplifting but then it wasn't. And I'm sorry, but it's better than nothing.

    Mercy, I can't wait to hear from you this week.

Love, Laura :)