***Sidenote: the upkeeping part of all of this really sucks. or maybe i just suck. anyways, here i go. trying again. best wishes are welcomed***


So, during the spoken word/poetry part of my class, I always tell my kids that when they feel something really strong that they can't really seem to get out verbally through speaking, resort to pen and paper. Let it come out in their writing. Maybe it'll help.

Tonight's the night to take my own advice and see where I end up.
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It's not even homesick anymore. It's borderline depression.
This whole independence thing is really hard to enjoy when every part of me wants to be at least 50 miles within reach of my family. I want independence, yes. I want my cute studio. I want to continue to lounge around naked and enjoy my own company in the comfort of my own bedsheets. I want to love my car and have it love me back by not dying. I want all of this and more....but more than any of this....I really just want to be home.

Tomorrow is the 1 year anniversary of the earthquake/tsunami that hit Samoa, and I am completely numb to how I should probably be feeling right now. Instead, I feel pent up in myself. Like I have something better going on than to re-focus myself on how I used to care so much about this last year. I hate that the fire in me has been put out. I hate that I was the water. The urgency to cry is there, but it doesn't come out when I want it to, thus leaving me feeling really anxious, like I don't have control of my body, and that scares me a lot. And experiencing this all alone in my studio, by myself?

I think I'm writing right now to keep myself from hurting myself.

There is nothing holding me accountable for my own shit and the only one who should be in charge of that is me. If I fail this class, I will give myself what I deserved all along. If I don't get on top of my shit, I will make sure I pay for it. This is not a suicide note. I don't want to die. On the contrary: I want so badly to come alive again.

Everyone is leaning on a piece of me, hoping that I can be there to hold space with them, when in reality, doing that will do them no good. I am no good right now, not for you, and especially for myself. My sisters. I want to be there for them so badly, but how do I sit there, conjuring up some kind of recipe for wisdom and have the audacity to feed it to them, when I've been starving myself on purpose for a long time now? To her. I don't have what it takes to be away from her for longer than 2 days. We both witnessed that ourselves. I can't stand what she reminds me of. I don't have the heart to tell her what that is. I planned on taking this to the grave way before she put all her trust in me. I'm scared that she won't be patient with my process. I want her to be happy, though. If she's the kind of lover that turns beauty ugly, than I'm the kind of person who turns happiness into grief.

There you are, tears. Long time no see.

I need someone stable to come to me and hold me steady as I breathe for myself. This feeling of not knowing how to take care of myself is killing me, and I don't want to die. Not right now.

Going to go try and sleep the rest of this off.