Summer in New York City | August ’17

First of all, I am very well aware of the fact that I haven’t written anything of value on here in literally months. Ya know, just figured I’d acknowledge my complete lack of commitment and say that I HAVE THINGS TO WRITE ABOUT AND I WILL SHARE THEM SOON.

In the meantime, check out August’s vlog ft. my friends with video footage to prove that we do in fact watch sports occasionally.

Lost Magic

Sometimes I catch myself missing the novelty of my teenage years. Does that make any sense? I miss the way even the littlest of things felt like they mattered so much. 

I remember sitting on the car roofs watching the stars and listening to old music, feeling like the world was filled with so much wonder. 

I used to drive through town with friends, with no destination in mind, thinking about how we had the whole world at our fingertips. 

A night spent smoking a joint and having a deep talk felt like it would never end. Even parties felt meaningful. Kisses felt adventurous, secrets felt deep, and days felt full. 

I just FELT more then I guess. 

Driving with the windows down, listening to a great song at full volume, seeing the ocean with the sand in my toes. None of it feels as magical anymore. 

Experiences roll off me like water lately, never penetrating deeper than surface level. 

Do I feel old because I’m depressed or depressed because I’m old? 

alexkrump:

There’s no eloquent way to say this…or if there is I don’t really feel like trying (lol)… but I just wanted to say how weird it is to look back at old pictures I posted on my Tumblr during the first couple years I was using it. 

Someone recently liked a picture I posted during my freshman year of college (2011) where I stated, “a couple of the biggest changes in my life thus far have happened recently”. That comment alone boggles my mind.

I feel so far removed from that person I was 5 years ago, yet I am consistently having this crisis about feeling like I’m still an 18 year old trapped in a 23 year old’s body. 

I posted that picture in 2011 before my parent’s divorced, before my brother’s accident, and before my dad’s arrest. Since then, I’ve also made so many new friends, lived in 6 different houses/apartments, and worked in 3 different cities.

Sometimes I really have no idea who I am right now, because my life is basically just constant change. When I posted that in 2011, going to college was one of the first real HUGE changes in my life and I really craved it. Now all I crave is stability. 

No point to this post aside from the fact that LIFE IS WEIRD MAN.

It makes me excited and also extreeeeeemely terrified for the future. 

Perceived Confidence

alexkrump:

I’ve been thinking a lot about confidence recently, or at least perceived confidence. As I’ve mentioned multiple times before, I have a problem with being passive and letting my social anxiety take control. For a long time I think I just assumed the two went hand in hand. Being socially anxious does sometimes make me passive. I avoid conflict. I avoid conversations with people I’m not completely comfortable with. I avoid anything that makes me vulnerable and that could potentially make an interaction become uncomfortable. I let others determine every aspect of how my social interactions will go. I, by definition, am pretty fucking passive. But if New York has taught me anything, it is that being passive is not only not going to get me anywhere, but its ultimately going to eat me alive.

I let my perceptions of myself be defined by other people’s perceptions of me. When my dad was arrested last year I let my shame determine how I handled all of my interactions. I always found myself making excuses for people that started treating me differently because of it. I was always walking on eggshells hoping not to offend anyone with my presence. I literally remember apologizing to so many people as I opened up to them about my dad. As if my personal struggles were in some way something I needed to be sorry for? ? What I failed to realize at the time, was how often I was offended in the process and how badly my emotional stability was suffering as a result.

This weekend I went out to a bar in my hometown for the first time in a very long time. (Backstory: I haven’t truly lived in my town since high school, but until recently, my mom still lived there and I visited often. My relationship with my “home” is complicated… maybe I’ll elaborate in another post sometime. But for all intensive purposes, I really like it there, regardless of some of the negative memories I have associated with it.)

Anyway, I’ve always been a little hesitant to go out to bars in my town. But I have some awesome friends from home still, and I don’t see them as often as I should almost entirely because I am afraid that I’ll be put in uncomfortable social situations with people that will judge me based on my family.

So on Friday I decided to go out to celebrate a friend’s birthday. While at the bar, I ran into a lot of people I used to know/be friends with that I haven’t seen in years. The idea of seeing these kinds of people in this type of setting usually TERRIFIES me because 1) my anxiety makes the thought of small talk with acquaintances seem literally crippling sometimes, but more importantly because 2) almost everyone in my town thinks they know about my family due to all the publicity my dad’s arrest got and all the gossip said publicity created over the past year and a half. This aspect of the situation alone is usually enough to keep me far away from any social situation at home.

This time I faced my fears head on. I threw caution to the wind and spent my night divulging a LOT about my life to a lot of people who definitely were NOT expecting it. Granted, I was drunk so I had a lot of ~liquid courage~ but that’s never helped me to be more ballsy with anything like this in the past! I went on and on about my dad being arrested, my mom hooking up with guys I graduated with, my brother being bullied after the arrest, my own mental health, etc. Basically, when it came to anything that people could and have read or talked about over the past year – I was an open book. It was a RUSH! AND I’ve never had such positive responses! I felt like the most confident girl at the bar.

Now listen, don’t get me wrong, this shit still hurts. These things still get to me and clearly I’m not all that confident with any of it yet. But if I can act like I am, and open the dialogue on MY terms, then I finally can be in control. I finally feel like I don’t have to be seen as someone begging for acceptance, but instead someone promoting understanding.

I think it opens people’s eyes a bit to see someone acting visibly confident about something that can be seen as controversial. And honestly, even more-so than that, I feel like opening up about personal issues allows people to be more comfortable vocalizing their own. Everyone has something they’re struggling with. I’m a strong believer in the fact that there really is no such thing as “normal”. 

The experiences we go through in life, both good and bad, make us who we are. I’ve always been willing to accept that about others, but It’s pretty liberating to finally be accepting that about myself too.