In light of one of the most depressing celebrity suicides of my young adult life, I am compelled to post one of the most personal posts of all the posts that I may post. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you about anything too dark, but I would like to acknowledge that it gets that way. Dark. Sometimes to the point where, yeah, there doesn't seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel because that tunnel has somehow shifted ninety degrees into a hole with no opening. But there is a way out, even if it isn't up (I would just like to note that I edited out the part where I made a Dugtrio reference, but decided to keep this annotation because it was a really hard edit to make).
Here's my angle- the fact that I am probably the least qualified to tell anyone how to get their shit together might actually make me the most qualified. This year I went from being the most carefree person I know, to caring so much that I am forcing myself to watch The Bachelor in Paradise because I need to know that Marcus from the last Bachelorette is okay and will find someone to love. I don't own a real hairbrush, the checkout girl at my Trader Joe's keeps tabs on my love life, my apartment building is literally 67 years old and falling apart before my eyes, and today I decided to buy cigarettes instead of paper towels.
Instead of dwelling on all the things that make me want to punch a baby in the face, I'd like to share with you some things that make it just a tiny bit better.
1. People. I know that when you're feeling like ten thousand tons of shit, being around people sounds as enticing as eating your own innards. But do it. Friends, family, strangers, it doesn't matter. Surround yourself with people who want the same things as you and distance yourself from people who don't. In my case, I've been gravitating towards my most creative and nurturing friends and pulling away from the ones that just need a body next to them as they shop, drink, or whine. After deciding to switch out my weeknight drinking dates for whenever coffee dates, I've realized how much the company and advice of other babes makes me feel so much healthier.
2. Honesty. Ask for the things you want and address the things you don't. It's okay to ask for help and it's okay to say, "Fuck that." and it's okay to be vulnerable and, every once in a while, it's okay to be a dick. If you don't feel like going out, it's actually okay to admit that you'd rather watch Shark Week naked and eat peanut butter out of the jar. No one else is going to be true to yourself and your needs except for you. (And, well, I guess maybe your mom, but like, you know what I mean.)
3. Lots of Fiona Apple but then also bands whose vocals don't really matter when you are doing things like driving around and chain-smoking at 3am. Slowdive and My Bloody Valentine are good for this. If you don't have a car, running works too. However, I don't suggest smoking and running. I also don't suggest going running at 3am. If you don't chain smoke, good on you. Okay, maybe number 3 is for a very specific night owl with bad habits. Ie. Me.
4. Affirmations. Okay, like not the kind where you stand in front of a mirror and tell yourself that you are special. But, like, accept that you are human and awesome or, at the very least, the result of thousands of years of natural selection. Accept compliments. If someone says you look/smell/taste good today, maybe you do. Own that shit. And if you wanna get in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, do it. Here's what I would say: "You're kind of rad and you can be funny (sometimes) and people like your hair and you're good at your job and people totally wanna make out with you and, hey, you've kept your animals alive for this long. Good job, Kat."
5. The little things. When you're caught up in work and bills and dating and adult-ing, it's easy to forget all the hobbies and books and food and records that make you feel good. Today I re-read "Where the Sidewalk Ends" in it's entirety while drinking coffee on my couch in my underwear and then took a nap. I woke up feeling good and decided to write this post.
I know that it takes a lot more than this to get out of a funk. I know how fucked up it feels to feel like no one gets it. And honestly, they might not ever get it. But there's always a release, it just might not come right away and it might not come in the way you'd expect it. I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you're holding on tight, I am too. And I'm only letting go to light my next cigarette.
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