we've had many discussions on the subject,
the idea that there is absolutely nothing more scary for our generation than getting your life together and realizing you're standing on top of solid ground.
shitstorms, breakdowns, the buildup and the fallapart.
these things we are bloody experts in.
when the proverbial shit hits that fan, we know what to do.
we've made our lives out of picking ourselves up and gathering all the pieces of our shattered lifestyle. picking up the shards of shattered glass. we've spent years climbing out of holes, cleaning up our messes, adopting addictions just to spend months getting over them...
this is the familiar, this is our damn bread and butter.
keeping ourselves busy.
disappearing into a den of ridiculous amounts of drug use for six months, just to spend the next three years recovering. nursing ourselves back to health.
i actually recall making the decision to start smoking cigarettes.
it was the first night i hung out with will. he gave me a menthol. ha.
and here i am, getting back into the groove, here i am trying to quit smoking cigarettes.
thinking about, planning around, finding out how to NOT smoke eats up hours of my day.
my whole life revolves around the absence of deviances which, to be honest, i only adopted in the first place so i could let them go.
this is how i've come to be comfortable. this is how i've always lived.
until. cigarettes, and maybe someday alcohol...
these are the last bastions.
these last few months are the first time in years where i've actually made an attempt at real progress instead of just catching up. this is the first time since i was... twelve? that i've been on solid ground long enough to take a few steps forward.
otherwise, i'm digging or i'm climbing, but i'm never, never level.
i'm in or out of an addiction.
in or out of a horrible relationship.
i'm looking for a new job or another place to live.
i'm drowning in withdrawals or restraining orders--
sometimes i'm really on top of my game and i'm drowning in both.
but here i am, free as a jaybird.
and i'm giving up the one thing i always said i'd keep around.
fuck cigarettes.
and i'm finally going back to school and i'll have insurance and i'll have prescriptions.
and i'm so tired of being stupid over stupid boys i don't think i can even stomach letting myself disappear into another fucked relationship with a sadistic alcoholic.
i've got nothing left to drown in.
and i'm trying. so hard. to keep my head above water.
and now i've gotta start moving forward and nothing
nothing could be more foreign or more cold. nothing could possibly scare me more.
nothing could make me want to dig a deep deep rabbit hole and hide in it more.
but my goal for these upcoming months, i guess,
is to get excited about the solid ground.
