It's the principle of the thing.

Sometimes you have to make a decision based on your principles. I find that when you're in a situation like this, it usually really sucks.

You've done something wrong. Not just oops-I-ran-a-red-light-wrong. More like I-did-something-unethical-wrong. But you're the only one that knows. Do you go on with your life and not tell anyone, or do you confess and face consequences?

Some people might say "It depends on what you did." Some might say that clearly the right thing to do is confess. A few would go the "tell no one" route. But what would you actually do? As someone who's been in this situation, I can tell you that it's very tempting to not tell anyone, and then just never do it again. And as someone who has done [what I think is] the right thing and 'fessed up, I can tell you that it really sucks. It's not even as relieving as everyone thinks it is.

You have a friend who takes you for granted. You help them out with everything from emotional support, to giving them rides, to lending them money. But you get nothing in return. Do you continue to do what you're doing because they're your friend, or do you tell them that they need to start doing things for themselves?

A friend of yours says they can't remain friends with you if you continue to talk to someone that they don't like. Easy enough, right? Drop the guy/gal who's giving you the childish ultimatum. But what if that person is your best friend? What if it's someone you love?

I think the thing about making decisions based on principle is that you have to really know what your principles are. You have to ask yourself "How far am I willing to go for ___?" or "How much am I willing to give up for ___?" or "When is ___ the right/wrong thing to do?"

So I guess if someone who calls himself/herself my friend is taking me for granted, then I'll see if he/she sticks around when I stop doing him/her favors. And I guess I'll continue to tell people the truth, even if it means condemning myself. And if someone I love can't handle me being friends with someone they dislike, then I guess I'll leave it up to them to decide if it's worth losing me over.

Polka Dots

It started and ended with polka dots. Black on white and white on black. Colors that were indisputable, even between us.

I find myself at a loss for words. Instead I've got a slideshow in my head of everything we've ever done. It was brief and wild and saturated with new experiences and kisses and knowing smiles. 

Sometimes we were so foreign to each other that I often wondered if it wasn't just our eyes that saw different colors.

My thoughts are disjointed. This is all I can bring myself to say.

We're not the same, dear, as we used to be.

I feel like I'm finally starting to figure everything out.

As the days go on, I'm beginning to discover more and more of myself. I'm sorting out my feelings, figuring out what my limits are, and realizing what's important to me in the long run, versus the things that only make me feel good in the short term.

Probably most importantly, I'm learning what it means to be me. Just me. I'm figuring out what makes me happy, and I'm learning to live with myself. You know how they always say you must be able to love yourself before you can love others? I always thought it sounded a bit corny, but the more time I spend really growing as a person, the more I realize how true it is.

It's late and I've got a lot of work to do, so I'm going to be lazy and steal a metaphor from a Death Cab for Cutie song:

It's as though I was standing on a frozen lake and pretending it was solid ground. But as time went on the ice grew thin, and eventually I just fell through. These past few months I've sort of been struggling just to keep my head above water... and now I've taught myself how to swim, and I'm slowly working my way toward the shore. And hopefully in the coming months I'll have come to a more solid foundation to stand on.

Okay, I'll stop with the corny analogies for now.

My point is, things are really looking up. And who knows, maybe future me will be able to make up for some of the not-so-great decisions that past me made.

Questions

I find it incredibly ironic that after all I've been through, I have trouble taking care of myself. Don't get me wrong-- I know how to take care of myself. I just... don't.

I guess I didn't even realize I was doing it until recently. Several of my friends have expressed concern for my well being, and it's forcing me to really sit down and re-evaluate my current state. I don't ever get enough sleep, I  haven't been eating well, and my anxiety levels are through the roof. I'm unproductive, I'm unmotivated, and I've been relying heavily on the company of those closest to me for emotional stability.

I guess when it comes down to it, I know (better than most people) how to survive. Because that's all I did growing up. I survived. And as they say, old habits die hard. Despite the fact that I have a great deal of resources to get me through any hardships, I take it upon myself to deal with my own issues. I'm very private when it comes to my own emotions and struggles, and the one thing I almost never do is ask for help. From anyone.

Instead of taking care of myself, I get done what needs to get done and push all other issues to the side. Instead of letting other people know what's going on, I spend hours alone trying to work them out for myself. I survive. 

But sometimes it gets to be too much, and sometimes I have to let people what's going on. But it's always the same. "Hey, I'm going through a lot right now and I just had a crazy break down, but don't worry, I'm fine now and I'm handling it." "Hey, I've got a lot of work to do an it's entirely too overwhelming, but don't worry, I've got a plan." "Hey, I'm not getting enough sleep and I've already skipped class twice this week, but don't worry, I'm working it all out."

I'm handling it. I've got a plan. I'm working it out.

I can't just say it: "I would appreciate some help."

When I was in Chicago this weekend, I went to the Art Institute and saw an exhibit piece by Peter Fischili and David Weiss called "Questions." We sat in a dark room, and a projector would project different questions on the walls in all different languages. One of the ones that struck me was "Could I put my everlasting effort to seem normal toward something more productive?" It made me think about the way my life has been for the past couple of months. Could I put my everlasting effort to appear normal into really taking care of myself?

So, I'm taking steps. I'm going back into therapy for a bit, just to get my thoughts and emotions straightened out. I'm going to start running again and sleeping more to get my body straightened out. I'm going back to my old eating habits and I'm going to see a doctor to get my health straightened out. 

Hah, listen to that-- "I'm taking steps." "I'll take care of it."

So maybe I'm not quite there yet.