Sometimes I’m sad

Anyone else tired of seeing all these stupid people on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram pretending to express no emotions other than joy and happiness? It’s not that I take pleasure in seeing other people in pain (okay, maybe a little), but scrolling through hours of posts from people claiming that their lives are so great ALL THE TIME gets fucking old.

We get it, you love your boyfriend. We remember the #mcm you posted last week, and every single Monday for the last 27 weeks.

Yeah I like hanging out with my friends, too, but I’m not gonna post 13 pictures in a row of them and I at a bar on a Wednesday night, acting like it’s the most fun we’ve ever had.

It’s not the positivity that I’m angry about. If you’re truly happy, great! I’m glad that you’re content with your life. Who am I to rain on your parade just because I’m an angry fuck?

Sometimes I feel like Patrick Bateman

But I do have a problem when people act like everything is all good just because they’re too afraid to admit how they’re really feeling. We’re fucking humans, we can’t control our emotions. So why the clear lack of negativity on social media? Even the happiest of people have less than ideal days once in a while.

Maybe I had a shitty day, and all I want is for everyone to know how much pain I’m in. Sadly, there are unspoken rules and etiquette of social media that determine what is and isn’t acceptable to post.

Expression of negative feelings on social media is looked down upon. No one wants to hear about my thoughts of suicide I have every now and then. Maybe the thought of not existing, of not having to think anymore, is attractive sometimes. But people would rather laugh at a tweet about Drake.

Cries for help on these public platforms are scrolled past, lost in the feed forever. People would rather look at a stupid picture I post of a donut (I’m eating a donut right now shouts to @strangedonuts I miss you) than read one of these posts in which I speak as candidly as I can about things important to me.

I’m guilty of this false positivity on social media as well. I’ve deleted a tweet or two. I derive (dis)pleasure from a lot of (or not enough) likes on an Instagram post.

Sometimes I actually get annoyed when people leave a comment, but choose not to double tap my picture. Reading that typed out on my computer is fucking embarrassing, but it’s the truth. I try not to let people’s opinions affect the way I live, yet it’s hard not to when I can feel people judging me based on how many likes I get on a picture of my dinner (btw I make better sofritas than Chipotle, fuck with me).

Even when I think about sharing this post on Instagram tomorrow, I already know what picture I’m gonna use (thank you Jennica for taking cool pictures of me ily sis) and what time of day I’m gonna post it (in the morning, I feel like that’s when my pictures get the most attention).

Point is, I wish people/I could express how they/I truly felt on social media, or even real life. I rarely talk to people about how I’m really feeling, unless I’m feeling positive.

Nothing good can come from bottling up emotions and pretending like everything’s alright when it’s not. So let’s start talking about our feelings when they’re not alright. Deal?


Still figuring it out or whatever

In case you didn’t know, until recently I was in a committed relationship for many years. Some might’ve called it an unhealthy relationship, but it’s all I knew.

My girl influenced my every move, every single decision I made. She used to pick out what I would wear in the morning and told me what I should eat for lunch. I’m not crazy for thinking that’s fucked up, right? One person shouldn’t have had so much control over my life, yet I couldn’t escape her.

Even when I was alone I could still hear her nagging voice in my head, whispering her stupid fucking opinion even when it wasn’t wanted or warranted. “No you can’t go out tonight because you have a test tomorrow and if you don’t study all night for it you’ll fail and then you’ll never get a good job if your GPA isn’t high enough and you need blah blah blah,” SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I had tried everything I could think of to make things work with her: therapy, drugs and medication, support groups. Nothing worked. A few times I even told her that we should see each other people. She didn’t agree, so I gave in and went back to her.

Enough was enough. A couple weeks ago, I started the drive out to California in hopes of getting this girl out of my life for good. She’s been texting and calling me nonstop, sending me naked pics trying to entice me.

It’s getting easier to ignore her. I keep telling myself that I’m better off without her.

“My ex asked me, “Where you movin’?” I said, “On to better things.””

– Drake, “10 Bands”

The saying “it’s not you, it’s me” doesn’t really apply here because this relationship I just described was between myself and my fear. (I’m so clever, right? Right?? Ha ha hahaha ha.) Not fear of spiders, heights, or commitment, though. Fear of l i t e r a l l y everything. Most people, places, and things frighten me in some way.

My fears of the unknown and being alone ran my life. Fuck fear. I’d lived with this shit for too long. I said fuck it, packed up all my shit, and gave fear the middle finger as I jumped into the unknown and drove to California.

Lowkey the scariest thing I’ve ever done, driving to a new city with no plans and no friends. The idea of getting so far out of my comfort zone is what made me want to do it, in fact. Going to Mizzou along with a large group of my friends didn’t really help me get out of my comfort zone much. It was more like a new and exciting faux-comfort zone.

Sure, I most definitely made my own lane for myself at Mizzou, befriending a bunch of weird motherfuckers that I call my best friends. Yet, I still found myself craving more. A lot more.

It’s such a trill feeling doing the shit that makes me the most afraid and uncomfortable. Since I got to Cali, I’ve been on my solo dolo wave, going to the beach (no pun intended) and hiking by my lonesome. And I’m oddly cool with it.

I even went to a concert by myself one of my first nights here (shouts to my sister for being the plug and making some calls to get me on the guestlist, she’s a real one). I made some friends at the show. We kicked it til 3 am that night. It was cool. And I’ve become really close with them in a short amount of time together. It’s rad seeing new friendships grow. I’m stoked.

In the midst of all these new experiences, I’m realizing something hella important about myself: when I’m faced with something challenging, my instincts are usually wrong. My initial gut instinct is to say no when asked a question or faced with a decision. I tell myself that I’m thinking with logic and reason, but really I’m just afraid.

I was on a solo hike the other day when after a few miles in, I ran out of water. My first thought was to turn around and head back “for my own safety.” Standing on the trail, sweating my ass off from the abnormally hot weather central California’s been experiencing (still more comfortable than Missouri summers though), a wave of turn up came over me and pushed me up the rest of the trail. My exhaustion was well worth the view from the top.

The crazy view from the top of the mountain isn’t the point of that stupid story. It’s that my initial thought to turn around was wrong, and I proved that to myself.

I swear, I feel myself growing into someone different, someone way doper and more advanced, all because I’m doing everything I can to get all these fears out of my mind. I feel these demons inside me trying to fuck with me, and I refuse to let them run my life like they used to.

“These demons, they callin’ my soul. I said fuck all of you hoes.”

– Drake & Future, “Scholarships”

I can’t say it’s all bad, though. All the bullshit I’ve been through has made me and fueled me to conquer whatever I’ve been up against. I’m about to be on some next level shit in the next five years because of it, just wait on it.

“This year I’m eatin’ your food and my table got so many plates on it. Hundred inch TV at my house, I sit back like “Damn I look great on it.””

– Drake, “Versace”

Everything I’ve done my whole life has made me the man I am today, and I’m sure as hell not going to let some bitch called fear fuck everything up.