uncensored . . . you've been warned

awhile ago, I went through my entire blog and took out all the cussing and stuff because maybe someday one of my readers is going to be a young child just looking for someone to look up to or someone who was trying to figure life out and wanted to hear from someone who managed to not go through the stage where every other word was an expletive, and I wanted to be the best role model I could be. I decided I wanted to keep this blog clean.

but the other day, I was thinking about it and I remembered the real reason why I made this blog was because I wanted to keep an honest journal - no edits, no touch ups, no frills, no half stories. this was going to be the place where I shared real, raw moments. and I can't do that if I'm censoring it. people need to know that what we say or where we go doesn't make us good or bad. partying and swearing doesn't make you a bad person, complimenting people and going to church doesn't make you a good person. so from here on out, I will cuss wherever I f*cking please. ok? ok.

however, the real reason why I'm calling this the uncensored post is because of what I'm about to share. if you're friends with me on Facebook or Instagram, you've probably noticed that I don't post much anymore, and when I do it's mostly pictures of trees and fountains and cute pretty things. if you've talked to me recently, you probably know that I've been crazy busy lately, working 35 hrs/week, going to school part time, trying to become more active in my church, meetings with clubs, volunteering, running . . . I've had more than enough to keep me busy. because of that, I haven't been able to make as many friends as I had hoped to. this place is huge, and I'm starting to realize that I am a small-town girl at heart. when I first decided to come out here, I was so excited to sit in a cafe alone and not have people judge me for it, to explore a big city and be on my own, to not feel the need to take a picture of everything going on in my life, and to just be able to do my own thing without anyone knowing all the details of my life.

this week, I had an Alexander Supertramp moment (without going into the freezing cold of Alaska and starving to death in the back of an abandoned bus). I realized that happiness, the truest joy in life, is only real when it is shared. I kind of feel like an idiot, but I just realized that I actually need people. I need community. for the past few years, all I wanted was to go into the world alone and go from place to place never looking back. but I really miss being in a small town. I miss driving on little adventures, I miss low-key hangouts with friends till the early morning, I miss loitering in parking lots, and dancing in empty parks. I miss knowing the people who were serving my food, and hanging out with the same group of people so often that we practically lived together. I miss deep conversations and singing/screaming on the top of our lungs.

this week, I had a strong bout of depression which I haven't had in awhile. it made me remember that I'm not doing this for myself.

so this is me being honest and saying, the city and the school of my dreams is no longer that. it's not my dream anymore. there was this book that I read a long time ago that described hell as a place where all the people are starving and there's a giant pot of soup in the middle, and all their spoons are long enough to get the soup, but the spoons are too long for them to get the spoon into their mouths, but none of them know that they just have to feed each other. honestly this place is hell. I have everything and I feel like I can't do anything. my life isn't glamorous. and if I were to post a picture of the best thing I did this week, it would be me sitting in my room on a Friday night and crying by myself, because I haven't been able to cry for the past month, and it felt so good to let it out.

even the smart, successful ones have struggles. on the bright side, everyone I've talked to since I've got here seems to think I have all my sh*t together. the facade of sanity is a beautiful thing.

this month has been one humbling experience after another, and I think by the end of this year I'll basically become a rock. that's the most humble thing I can think of.

no matter where I end up after this year, I'm not going to regret a second of my time here. I've learned so much about myself. I realized that I really do love people, and as much as I love helping people, I really enjoy it when people reach out to me. where I am doesn't really matter anymore; it's the people I'm with that do. not to get dramatic, but I'm a different person than I was when I came here.