;;;

oh, blog, i am drunk and i am sad, but i am not drunk enough to express that i am sad.
that's why i have you.

1.
 i was looking at the stuffed animals i bought when we were at the zoo for your birthday. i almost forgot about them, sitting there on the bottom shelf of my bookcase. now they're soft and cute and the zoo was the last time you and i ever spent time together and it really felt okay. it's hard to believe it was that long ago. i miss you.

2.
i can't be at work for more than an hour or two anymore without feeling sad. there's a small part of me that wants to quit, but i know that i won't like it better anywhere else. i used to feel at home there. now, i stay because i need to for isaias. you quit your job, but i'm not there anymore. not really.

3.
i'm looking at the baskin robbins christmas photo from 2012, and it's genuine. more than anything, it's genuine. i won't ever forget that era. the era of daniel, of emily and emma. of a happier isaias. a happier me. hell, just a happy me. i'd be fine with just a happy me.

4.
i'm getting worse. i always used to think that losing romantic love was worse than losing platonic love because the things you do in romance are unique to one individual. what i realize now is i have other friends but none of them are taylor. you were a friend to me like no one else was, and nothing has ever hurt me all the way to my core more than the way that you described me to other people. it doesn't feel like the pain of losing you will ever stop. i know it will, but i think part of that will stay with me forever. how melodramatic.

5.
all i have been able to wonder tonight is if you're going to say happy birthday to me when the time comes.

6.
you would've been my maid of honor.

These days I cannot help but find myself inescapably sad. Six months ago, I never would have thought that life would bring me where I am today.

Isaias is the only part of my life in which I find real joy. Other times, I do what I am supposed to do - I go to work and I clean and I serve people and I make cakes and I wash dishes. I go to school and I listen to lectures and I take notes and I do homework and I take tests. I fill my life with things that make me feel lonely in places where I used to belong.

My mother kind of knows, I think, that I don't really have new friends here. I wonder if she realizes that I don't want to make new friends. I don't care enough to make new friends anymore. Everything has changed and I am inescapably sad.

A lot of this stems from you - and it's funny, I think, because I have always thought it was silly to treat losing a friend like the breakup of your life. But isn't it? Ten years is how long it took to form the bond that we had until a couple of months ago. It hurts.

I've played this record too many times. I never wanted to lose you. We had our ups and downs, but you were my best friend. Hell, you and I even talked about living together on campus next year. It was a bit of a pipe dream, but we were friends. We were best friends. All of my bonds with my friends are special, and yours was no exception.

Now I feel a little empty because what happened between us ripped so many different layers of my life away with it.

You took my job away from me. I still work there and you don't, but I don't belong there anymore like I used to. I can't explain the way that job used to be. I felt lucky. I felt loved and I felt like I was so excited I found a place where  I could make friends and work hard.

I know things happen. I know that I have other really, really good friends. I know that I have obligations, and I know that work relationships fall apart and personal relationships fall apart. But if you, dear reader, understand one thing about me, understand this: I am incredibly sensitive. I am extremely insecure in my position with others and even sometimes with myself. I feel like I have the whole world at my fingertips and it's all just out of reach because I'm not tall enough. I'm not good enough or pretty enough or smart enough or funny enough or musically/scientifically/artistically inclined or good at math to be distinguishable.

I've created an entire heartbreak around this, and I can't help it. I lost too much at once. My heart isn't strong enough for that.

I want to go back six months ago to when my life was good and I was happy.

rodeo

Medication can only work if you're taking it. I never mean to skip a pill. Honestly, I never do. It just happens, more frequently than I'd like, because I'm always running.

But I can't keep myself from getting that sort of pill-popping ambivalence that people on attitude-altering drugs feel sometimes. I feel weak when I take my pills. I am letting ten milligrams define my personality. My entire life, I have not been able to achieve what those ten milligrams have achieved in a matter of weeks.

Ten milligrams of Lexapro. One tablet every morning (or afternoon or night or whenever I remember, I'm not picky) as directed. That's all it took to change me. Ten milligrams of Lexapro, the smallest prescribed dosage of anti-anxiety medications on the market is the thing that keeps me sane.

And I love what it's done, truly. I am a happier person because of Lexapro. Six months ago, this is what I stayed up until three saying:

I've gotten to an incredibly dangerous place. I don't want to go to college.  I don't want to spend time with my family. I don't want to be loved by anyone. I don't want to go near anyone or anything  because I don't deserve it, and I don't deserve it because in my own mind I am dying and I'm only going to complicate it all, only going to cause them pain.

 Realistically, rationally, logically, I need this medication. It fixes me.

But damn, I cannot stand when I am in a bad mood or I am upset and the first question is, "Did you take your anti-anxiety medications?"

I am still a person with feelings and layers and I am allowed to be upset over understandable and sometimes even irrational things about the world despite my constantly-medicated state.

I don't know what I'm saying.

I'm pulling at my hair again.

back to normalcy.

It is difficult to come to terms with things that are long over, possibly more difficult than fresh wounds. When something happens that tears you away from your comfort zone like a tornado, you have to rebuild yourself wherever you land. You can't go back to the way it used to be - you have to take things the way that they are.

It has been over a month, possibly almost two, since everything that happened at work came to an end. It's better now, a better environment for me there. Everyone laughs with me again and talks to me again. I am liked again, I suppose. 

The thing, though: I'm not any better. A lot of times, when I'm talking to Isaias usually, I'll laugh and say, "I'm still bitter." I know he sees some truth in it, but it's not just bitterness and anger that keeps the past on my mind. I am still hurt. I am still sad.

It wasn't just some "shameless work drama" I got involved in that has affected me so deeply. These people were who I considered to be my best friends. I went to Nashville with two of them, stayed in a hotel for the weekend. I loved my job with all of my heart because I thought the people there loved me as much as I loved them. I guess I was wrong.

All it took was Emily's leaving to shake everyone up. Isaias and I tried very hard to make sure it didn't even appear that I was getting special treatment, even making sure I had a couple crappy shifts to keep people from talking. But girls will be girls, I guess. All it took was Emily's leaving to shake everyone up, and the tornado came to my house.

I don't talk about it anymore, but I think about it all the time. No one says anything, I think, because they're embarrassed of the way that they treated me. They're embarrassed that they isolated me, that they talked behind my back without concrete evidence that I'd done anything wrong, and that they lied to each other about me to create an entire web of complete misunderstandings around which their disdain for me was centered. No one else talks about it anymore, so it's no longer acceptable for me to tell them that I am still not okay.

I didn't do anything wrong. I worked hard whenever I was there. I never got better shifts or more hours than anyone else. I never got any say in the things that Isaias did, and I never tried to step on any toes. I just wanted to be kind. I thought that was enough.

It hurts. It still does. It might very well hurt until the day I quit.

d-day

i am trying, truly, to recreate the manner in which i live my life when nothing is happening. it is hard, though, when i have so much to live up to - my personality is so big, so seemingly unchallenged by the petty and the asinine and the impertinent. i am strong, and i try to come at the world with an inexorable, passionate force that cannot be tampered with by anyone.

but, in my relentlessness, i am inflexible. instead of bending, i break. this time, i've broken.

i should have known better. i should have known better than to let myself become so comfortable there. i should have known better than to feel loved and love in return to all the people there. i should have known better than to think that they were my friends, ultimately, who loved me and wanted what was best for me.

right now, i am hurt. i am more than hurt - i am heartbroken. here, i sit in class as i write this, with an ache in my chest and tears in my eyes. i don't want to eat. i don't want to go to my classes. i just want to sleep. i just want to cry. i want to lie down in my bed and wrap myself in my blankets because sorrow is bone-chilling when it wraps around your insides and paralyzing when it moves in like it's there to stay.

i thought that, upon some self-reflection, i might be able to see myself from another perspective. i have analyzed all of my actions over the past month trying to find a reason to feel so hated. the thing is - i can't. i cannot find a single thing that i have done that i would do differently. i have worked hard at my job. i have been fair at my job. i have treated my boyfriend like my manager when it was appropriate and i have treated everyone with respect. i did not deserve this.

and that's what makes it hurt more.

i don't want to work anymore. i don't want to be in college anymore. i don't ever want to talk to any of them again.

(i know it's dramatic. i'll be over it soon enough.)
(i just can't help it right now.)

You shouldn't be friends with your co-workers and you definitely shouldn't date one of them.
People will always find a way to spoil your good mood.