I haven't felt like blogging lately. To be honest, I haven't felt like doing much lately. But really, I shouldn't be surprised. It's February, and my body is right on schedule for the Mid-Winter Blues.
It's this time of year when nothing seems to go right (or maybe nothing is happening at all...?) February is a horrible month (I've decided) It is jammed right in the middle: too far away have the end in sight, but close enough to feel uncomfortable with the norm. I'm squirmy and restless and bored and uncertain and uncomfortable and excited and insecure and hopeful and pessimistic and confused. I have the ability to feel so much...but nothing is happening! None of my plans ever seem to follow through. I want to feel and see and look and touch and taste and live and laugh and love. I have a hunger for culture and stories and adventure and beauty and history and the future and people and God and everything wonderful about His creation and how do I find that on a miserable February afternoon in a town with no Starbucks?
My body has this incredibly heavy feeling all of the time...I'm so disconnected from all of the people I love (and I want to love me?) and who inspire me to be the best possible version of myself. The people who remind me...stop looking in that mirror and ripping yourself to shreds. The people who grab me by the shoulders, spin me around, and force me to look to the cross. I spend a lot of time by myself-there is no constant swim practice, and softball just hovers in the future. When I'm around people, it is generally school functions. To keep from punching stupid people/saying not nice things, I tend to keep to myself. However, this leaves Alanna with far too much time to think.
I contemplate the meaning of life (42. Anyone? Anyone? Seriously. Please tell me somebody out there has read Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. No? Nobody? Honestly people...live a little!)
I psych myself out about college. What are the chances I will fail on a scale of epic proportions? Is Marquette, MI going to suffocate me as much as Portage does? I'm really not as intelligent as I think I am. Do I have the balls to go get what I want out of life? What happens if I'm not happy?
I worry about my carbon footprint. I weigh the pros and cons of going all Henry David Thoreau on this world's ass and living alone in the woods.
I wait for the day when I can decorate my own house. I want to paint the walls crazy colors, and hang lots of mirrors and paintings on the walls and I want my house to creak. I want it to have personality! There will be homemade quilts on a bed that swallows you whole. I want long staircases and nooks and crannies and big sofas and a crackling fireplace and a huge farm with horses grazing out back and a giant kitchen full of fresh fruits and veggies and lots of pie and cookies and homemade bread. I want a huge porch perfect for early morning with my cup of coffee. Bliss? I think so.
I miss my "friends" entirely too much and in fact get a bit obsessive. I imagine hanging out with them and my brain comes up with dialogue for what we might say. Sometimes I forget whether or not these things have actually happened. I expect too much from our relationships (really, what right do I have to expect a text back?) I've found it incredibly hard to figure out how to stay in touch without...touching. (Don't take that the wrong way.) There are these friendships that I want to keep alive so badly and yet...I can't think of a way to hold on.
I think about colors. They sort of make me drool. Who sits in class and instead of conjugating German verbs thinks about what would happen if she mixed these two colors....? Mmmhmmm. You guessed it. This girl!
I get angry. Like, really angry. My mind tries to wrap itself around the things I'm feeling and when I can't seem to grasp it (or just can't find words to describe it) I tear myself apart trying to figure it out. I falsely place blame, and I know what I really should be blaming is myself. And I do blame myself, for a lot of conflict and hard feelings and mistakes and misunderstandings. (How does one become a people person?)
I struggle with the ideas of Confidence and Humility. I know that I'm incredibly fantabulous. But, whenever I have a thought about how awesome I am, I get hit by this wave of questions. Why do I have the right to think this about myself? Why do I deserve love and respect? What was I thinking, expecting so much out of someone? Its a vicious cycle, and there is such fine line between loving and hating yourself. I recently found this in a novel I was reading last week:
"It's disturbing how fast weeds take root in my garden of worthiness. They're so had to pull. And grow back so easily."
At the top of my To Do List has been to FORGIVE. Can you imagine how hard it is to ask for forgiveness when I haven't figured out how to give it? Today's rosary before Mass (I think. I hope.) was the first step. The Lord's Prayer. It comes between each decade. Who would have thought it would hold the answer to my questions? (I know, ridiculous right?)
"And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
DUH. Someone kick me please, for looking everywhere but the Lord's Prayer. (Ok, so I knew it all along. It's the forgiving those who trespass against me part that is the problem...)
It's true, I'm sort of an emotional wreck. (But I seriously can't explain why. There really isn't anything wrong. ) Mostly, I just miss ya'll. And I wish I had immediate veto power over everything my mother ever says. However, none of these things are easily remedied. Such is life.
Stay classy, LITs. Much love, many laughs, and a whole lot of awesome.
Alanna
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