Sticky Tape Life.

Have you ever felt like your life is being held together by sticky tape? The past four years of my life have been chipping away at a once ‘whole’ life, some cracks bigger than other, some heal over time and others are so large that you are barely keeping it together? That is literally the only way I can describe my life at the moment. I feel things keep getting so cracked, so damaged that it is only being held together by a string which is so close to letting up and dropping everything.

I have exactly a month unit I am done with my degree. My life just needs to stay together long enough for me to have the ability to pick up the pieces when they fall. I have felt this coming; four years in the making. Stress, lack of sleep, hard work, lack of food, lack of enjoyment, and no ‘me’ time…it’s taken four years to get to a breaking point (which realistically is pretty darn good). I knew this day would come, when it all just broke, when the sticky-tape just gave in…I was just hoping it wouldn’t be until after October 29, 2011.

In hind sight, the decisions I have made the choices which I stood by and the path which I have been following is the best thing to ever happen to me. However, I am starting to wonder how different life would have been, how easy my life would be if I didn’t make these choices. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I didn’t move out of home young, I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I didn’t spend almost every free second of my time working or doing studies and I wouldn’t be the person I am if I took the easy road. But sometimes I wonder, maybe the alternative to my lifestyle wouldn’t have been so bad?

Its days like today I feel I am drowning. So much to do, so little recognition for my hard work and so many things which I’m not able to prioritise due to the importance of each thing. For the first time in a long time I feel I am dropping the ball. I am not giving anything even half to energy it deserves. I have lost sight of what is important to me and I hate everything in the way at the moment. Sometimes it feels the mountain which has become my life is un-climbable. I’m crashing, and I am not quite sure how to stop it happening.

Finding Friendship.

I have never had a problem making friends; in fact I consider myself pretty good at making friends. I am confident and relatively carefree so if you put me in front of a room of strangers no matter how young or old, male or female, smart or ditzy, I can usually hold a conversation with people and spend time with them on an on-going basis. However, I don’t like people. We as human beings are difficult, impulsive, selfish and all around difficult beyond my own comprehension.

When I was younger I changed my friends a lot. I fought a lot with my ‘friends’, had a new best friend every week and trusted anyone without a second thought. As I grew older and entered high school I got a little more picky with my friends, but in hind sight I was nowhere near picky enough because I ended up surrounded by ‘the wrong people’.

The fact that I can easily talk to people and ‘make friends’ came to be quite a bad thing during my high school years. It meant I gained friends that I didn’t necessarily have things in common with, instead people who I could hang out with. Bar one person I don’t think I ever had ‘true’ friends, more just people who filled my time and who at the time I liked to be around. Towards the end of high school, my friend choices got better; however, I lacked the fundamental ability to meet people who valued my friendship as I did theirs. I somehow always found myself the ‘second friend’- the friend you call when your best friend is busy. In some ways, I am still always the backup plan to many of my friends.

I have never been good at friendship; I have never found it easy. I am good at a lot of things, I am good at being in love and being a girlfriend- but I am not good at choosing, keeping and being a good friend. Friendship is basically a mystery to me. When I think I have it down packed, I realise I don’t. When I think I know who my real friends are, I find out their not. When I think I am happy with only having a handful of close friends, I realise I’m not. I am sick of having friends walk in and out of my life. It makes me sad to think that some of my past friendships I didn’t work at maintaining them. But I guess like in a relationship, in a friendship two individuals evolve and it’s whether they can do it together that is the test of a friendship.

Maybe the fact that I have a great boyfriend to rely on means I don’t ‘need’ friends to rely on? Maybe the fact that he has outlasted almost any person in my life bar my family and my best friend with complete consistency is why I can’t trust friends to do the same? In my life, I want nothing more than simplicity and reliability and maybe I don’t get that from friendship in general?

I don’t know what I expect out of friendships, but whatever I think I expect sure isn’t getting met in my mind. Maybe I need to readjust my expectations so I don’t get disappointed?

eight months.

As we edge closer to the one year mark of Jason's death, I still don't feel as if it's real. Every time I go into his office I expect him to be there, yet it never surprises me when he isn't. Every notable change in dynamic in life seems to get a little worse. Every situation which he could have resolved or alter seems a little harder. Every mention of his name feels a little more bitter. Sometimes I wonder how long it will take to get over these feelings or if one day it will just be ‘okay’ again.

It kind suck doesn't it? We have no choice in life as to who we get to keep and who leave us. We have no choice as to how things play out, and no reasoning as to why we are here over the people who may be equal to if not more deserving of life.

Though I accept death for what it is, I can’t say I know how to accept the aftermath of death. I understand people die, sometimes too young and that’s just how it goes. But I don’t understand how to move past it and help everyone else most past it too. Personally, it doesn’t hurt that he isn’t here anymore- it just sucks that he isn’t. So many facets of my life I think what he would do or would have done or how different things would be and that doesn’t make me want to cry anymore, it just annoys me.

There is barely any conversation which we have that doesn’t mention Jason or doesn’t make me think of him. It’s the ‘what if’s’ which disappoint me the most. That’s really what it comes down to; I am disappointed that he isn’t here for everyone who needs him. I am saddened that it’s so hard to move past it and I am surprised how much life continues on.

The thought of going through this again in the future sickens me. The thought of losing anyone closer to me easily makes me want to cry. I just wish we could live life without losing the people we love.