I have been trying to be more Quiet recently.

Complain less. Pick on things less. Nag less. Generally just speak less.

The desired effect was to see if it could make it easier to practice gratitude, that maybe the first step to being less ungrateful is to stop vocalising my ingratitude. That maybe if I stop vocalising it then eventually I will be able to stop thinking it.

But I am not sure if it is having the desired effect. All I feel is suffocated, and I don't think the recent Quietness is coming from a place of restraint, but more from a place of being too tired and having no more fucks left to raise issues.

Which leads me to think that maybe Quietness doesn't work when my head space is still Noisy.

Also I actually don't know if my desire to be Quiet is truly because of a desire to be more grateful, or because I'm being silently passive aggressive and expressing how I'm sick of talking when no one listens. Is self-serving gratitude a thing? 

caught

Too old to have an identity crisis. Too young to have a mid-life crisis.

Too experienced to be hopeful. Too optimistic to be cynical.

Too happy to be sad. Too discontent to be grateful.

Question of the day: what do you take me for? (repeat x infinity)

Finding it very very difficult to be grateful today.

But I suppose gratitude also means being thankful for the difficult days because without them you wouldn't know how good the good days are.

reminder to self

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.
- Melody Beattie

hello 2017

As I get older it gets harder to truly dedicate time to people - time without the distraction of a mental checklist of errands that need to be run, necessities that need to be bought; time to enjoy days off that aren't half over from fatigue before it even begins, days that aren't cut short by sickness, petty disagreements and senseless fights, or obligations to friends and family.

It becomes impossible to pinpoint a single day that wasn't made of deadline after deadline, whether given without choice or self-imposed.

And yet amidst the rush of life, between work, meals, exhaustion and everything else that comes with growing up, there exists little snippets of joy, love and pure friendship that I've experienced this year.

I'm grateful that the people I hold closest to my heart have stuck by me through it all, putting in effort to keep in touch when I haven't had the capacity to, and understood enough to continue to love me unconditionally when I've been thoroughly undeserving. Thank you all for navigating the madness with me and making 2016 more than just a test of survival, but a very humbling year of learning to discern what's real from what's not.

2016 felt like 10 years and 6 months all at once and I'm not ready for 2017 but if there's anything 2016 has taught me, it's that I'll always find a way to deal and come out on top. Here's to more laughter, good food and travel. Here's to learning to be even tougher in 2017. Here's to true friendship and unconditional love. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

disquietude

I suppose in the wake of a lengthy, honest talk, I should be feeling relief, the easing of this knot of anxiety in my gut.

But instead all I feel is uncertainty and... ambivalence?

Now that it's out there, there are no more excuses I can make for you, no more maybes, no more benefit of the doubt.

And in the wake of this ongoing apathy on your part, I'm terrified that all that will be left to do would be to walk away.

I should really learn to start writing when I'm happy, and not just when I'm sad. This space needs to stop being a sad dump.

But that's for another time.

Tonight though.... My heart hurts.

Goodnight world.