The Girl Without A Face

Do you ever notice how easily you can slip into a routine of doing something, and then how just as easily it could slip away? While it’s in your routine it seems so simple, so easy, like it would never change. Like life will always be this way. Although I’ve been around the sun a few times I still get fooled by this false consistency, things always change in one way or another. The one thing that is true is that you create your reality.

I started writing this blog the day after my birthday in late June this year, and I was writing every day back then. Sometimes multiple times a day. Maybe I was looking for a friend. Maybe I had a lot to say. I hadn’t said anything publicly in such a long time. But now, the past few weeks, I’ve posted more irregularly. It’s not that nothing has happened, it’s just that I haven’t much felt like writing. Although it’s always this itch in the back of my mind.

I started going to the gym consistently in June as well. This is not the first time I’ve dedicated part of myself to a fitness routine. But it is the first time where I don’t have anyone else that holds me accountable like I do. I used to take classes, then I used to teach classes. This was my way of never being able to take a break, of forcing accountability on myself. But now, even though I have a gym partner, I’m really only relying on myself for motivation. She doesn’t have the same schedule as me, in fact lately weeks have passed where I’m consistently going several days more a week. But this is my routine. Our routines are different. I can’t rely on her for motivation, I have to go when I want to go. I have to motivate myself. I know I feel good when I’m there and I don’t when I miss going. I know that working out is a part of my routine for a reason.

Those are just the little things, but what about the big ones? When I look back to 2019, I had so many friends to choose from. I had plans all the time, I felt included. I was always doing something. The only downfall of that I suppose is never feeling like I had time for myself. I started to reminisce about all the friends I lost during my breakdown this week. Part of me wanted to reach out, part of me was angry at them for not caring enough to see where I went at any point in the past two years. I understand friendship works both ways. But I was re-learning how to take care of myself, how to work again. I felt overwhelmed even opening a piece of mail. Maybe I had chosen friends who really didn’t care much about me at all. That’s what I tell myself anyways. In reality, I think its just difficult for people to know what to do when something they don’t understand happens to someone they are friends with. Unfortunately, in my experience, it’s a lonely process. It’s a difficult truth to learn. Who will be there for you when you need them? And if they are there, maybe they can only do what they are capable of. I’ve had to change how I viewed relationships. It’s been a blessing and a curse. One I really don’t know how to move past.

I started to evaluate my year now that we’re in December. I’m not quite where I want to be, but who is anyway? Yes, I’ve lost almost all of my friends. Yes, I had a complete breakdown of who I once was. That was two years ago. This year I started to pick myself up. I reconnected with my sister and my dad. I went no contact with my mom. I quit smoking. I started working out regularly. Started a blog. Started reading heavily. Quit my toxic job. Started working somewhere much less stressful. Traveled with my son. Started re-integrating myself into society as who I am now, not who I once was. Maybe I’m still mourning the loss of that version of myself. The only thing that is inevitable is that things will change. My only goal is to be able to live without having to look back and having to heal from anything from this point forward. I’m in the rebuilding phase. The survival phase has been completed. I’m trying to appreciate the journey instead of wishing I was on to the next phase already.