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.
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