avicii

the wave has definitely returned this month, but I've been so busy distracting myself that I haven't acknowledged it. but if writers are good at anything it's projecting. so I'm going to mourn the death of my favorite dj: avicii. this man created some of my favorite late-night-speeding-thru-the-city songs, aka "the nights", "hey brother", and "broken arrows", but more importantly he got me through the worst 6 years of my life... 6-11th grade.

he introduced me to the amped world of edm, helped me tune out the world, and taught me to live life to the fullest. music is a really powerful force. honestly, there are only a few people who got me through those nightmarish years and avicii sits right next to Jesus. and I don't fangirl over anyone, but avicii was and is amazing. I'll never forget what his music meant to me.

man, this fucking sucks. I feel like this is the equivalent of when you pack up the box with your favorite childhood stuffed animal, or when you say goodbye to your best friend in high school that you just know you'd never see outside of high school.

this the worst writing I've done in awhile, and I'm severely out of practice, but I am at a loss for words.

I can't think. I miss avicii. and I miss my sane brain. I miss having issues/worries that didn't really matter, but now everything matters.

every few weeks, I get this feeling where I'm genuinely purely happy, and when people ask me how I'm doing and I say "I'm good," I get this really light feeling in my heart because it's the first time in awhile that I don't feel like I'm lying. and in that moment, I think wow I can't even remember what depression feels like, and part of me thinks it's past me. even if I remember the moments that made me hurt so deeply, I can't recall that distinct feeling of emptiness. for a little while. then slowly but surely there's glimpses. and then nothing; just this empty pause, holding my breath, and it hits me like a bus. and all I think of doing is running until I feel the pulse of an oncoming re-fracture of my shins, eating until I want to puke, or just burying myself under the covers and crying.

I've struggled with the waves for the past 8 years, and I still can't explain it. I can barely talk about, but I'm trying. trying at least to be there and listen and suffer with when someone else decides they want to talk. because that's what I'm best at. taking care of others, because it's a lot easier than trying to take care of myself.

this was a sad post that probably will ruin anyone's day who reads it, but I'm not going to apologize for it. I'm tired of excuses and apologies, but mostly I'm just tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired.