2015 can suck my dick

  

A tad different from the obligatory white-girl, what-I’ve-learned-from-2015-post… 

2015, you royally fucked me. Maybe I’ll thank you for it one day, but today is not that day. I am not grateful blonde… I am fucking angry.

You have been a learning curve, but you’ve taught me to be more bitter, less trusting, less sentimental… You wore me down, humiliated me often and probably aged me about 10years. But your 12 months are up – your reign of terror is over. I’m leaving your shit storm behind in miserable December and I’m gonna make January my bitch.

I’m gonna hold back my tears, hold on to my anger and punch your ghosts right in the face – do not try and haunt me. 2016 is looking to be a lonely year but I will be a spider, safe in my web, recovering in the dark and striking at each opportunity. 

You took a lot away from me, 2015, but the fresh air blowing in from the new year is already giving me clarity. One positive you’re leaving me with, however, is gratitude and appreciation for the right people and the right things. In the most cruel way you’ve brought the people  in my life together… And with the death of you comes the dissipation of my fear, abatement of my mourning and the chance to enjoy this bittersweet gift. 

I’ll thank you one day… But right now, you can suck my dick.

Yours sincerely,

The spider.

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Image via Instagram @visualpursuit

Allowances

 Does looking past a person’s flaws, working with them, making allowances for them make us more selfless, more worthy of that person’s love? Or does it make us a mug? At what point do we cross the line from caring into foolish?

My older brother and his girlfriend have just got engaged. A few months back things were a bit rocky between them. When she met my brother she had just come out of a pretty terrible relationship, the impact of which didn’t hit her until the new-romance-honeymoon-phase was over. So, understandably, trust issues she had buried started to resurface, she pushed my brother away. Things were hot and cold for a while (but never turned nasty). Anyway… you’re probably wondering why this is relevant. Now that they’re engaged and officially moving in together, she said to me that she’s just so glad that he put up with her shit (I’m sure she actually worded it much nicer than that but my memory fails me – that was the jist of it anyway). … (is jist a real word?! You guys know what I mean, right?)

SO. My brother put up with the hot and cold; he understood she was going through a hard time, working through some issues, and it paid off. She appreciates him for doing that and they’re going to live happily ever after (which is lovely but I wish they’d stop with the baby talk… Have they asked me if I’m ready to be an auntie? NO! How selfish of them…).

But how long do we put up with that for? A few months? A year? 3 years? Is that love? Is that like, accepting somebody for who they are, warts ‘n all? Or do we only do this expecting the person to eventually change? And is it really so bad to want somebody to change? If we have entered into a relationship with somebody, then obviously we like them as a person, we recognise all of the good in them… but as we get to know them better, as we invest more of ourselves into the relationship, we will discover things that could use a little adjustment. I don’t think that’s so awful. As long as you don’t want to change the person’s personality… or something fundamental about who they are. I mean, there’s definitely things about myself that I’ve changed for the sake of a relationship and I’m a better person for it! We all need called out on our bullshit sometimes and often we need to adjust things about ourselves in order to get along better with others. But it takes two… it takes compromise.

How long do we wait for recognition?

Are we lovers or just fools?

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Pic via Instagram @theloversanddriftersclub

Fight

  

I am the least competitive person ever.

If we’re playing a game, I’m a total bore. Can I just keep score? I’d rather not be involved at all. I don’t get angry at monopoly, I’ll play dead before I play fight… I don’t do competitive.

In school, I was always a straight B student. I could‘ve got straight As if I’d bothered to apply myself… but why would I put in effort when I could just cruise through with Bs? My parents were satisfied, my teachers were satisfied, my school reports constantly said ‘could try harder’ but, you know what? I’m just far too fucking lazy. I wasn’t competing with anybody (even myself) to get a better grade. B was fine, B will do. Now I regret leaving school with 3 Bs in my A-Levels… I could’ve had at least 1 A if I’d just tried.

In uni I was much the same (although averaging more of a C grade than a B, if I’m honest). One time though, I had to write a critical commentary on a passage from a book that actually interested me (which was rare). I was always falling asleep in that class (the professor had the most monotone voice, I’m yawning just thinking about it) so I don’t think my Prof. liked me too much. I don’t really remember why but for some reason I worked pretty hard at that essay, as if to try and prove something to my professor? Honestly I’m not sure if I felt that at the time or I just decided that afterwards! It helped that I naturally had a good understanding of the passage, so I could already write a good essay.. then, with a bit of work, I wrote a great essay (srsly, I kicked that assignment’s ass). I got a really high mark, my Professor said it was the best critical commentary he’s ever read AND I beat the know-it-all, most competitive, suffering from small-man-syndrome, ralph-lauren-and-chino-wearing dickhead who always bragged about his good grades. He couldn’t hide his annoyance (and downright confusion at how could get a higher grade than him)… (which tbh baffled me too!). Anyway, it was probably the only time I actually applied myself and did really great at something. Sadly this was WAY too late in my student life to learn this lesson and carry on to get a 1st in my degree (I settled for a 2:1… B student 4 lyf).

Anyway I graduated and spent the summer drinking and falling madly in love, giving no thought to my career or .. well, life in general. And now I find myself ruing all the apathy. I’m lazy and I had cruised through school and uni with minimal effort, I guess I thought real life would go the same way.

Nope.

I’m envious of my friends who have their shit together.. have a house, have a career. Friends who really excel at something. I’ve never been really good at anything… I have no real achievements to speak of. All the things I’m proud of seem pretty sub-standard. If I had a competitive bone in my body this might not have been the case. I have the ability to be good at something (maybe even a few things!), but never take it far enough. At this point, I’m actually terrified of competition. I’m really afraid to apply myself… to push myself harder at a sport I want to improve in, to make a bona fide effort to land a job I might actually like. What if I fail hideously (like I did in the relationship I was oh-so-sure about). And I’m embarrassed at my fear of competitiveness. Now for most things, I genuinely don’t give a shit… Sure, it’s great to win or to do well in something you care about, but when it comes to family board games? I’m not gonna get excited over it… I just don’t care. But that seems to bring the mood down for everybody else? I’m boring because I’m not desperate to win or because I don’t scream at the TV during sports (all I even watch is UFC and Moto GP, on occasion). What I need is to get a bit of (healthy) aggression around me. To turn my anger at things (and at myself) into a bit of competitiveness. If not, I’ll keep letting everybody else pass me, and some times I do actually want to win. Or at least put up a fight.

 
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Absence makes the heart grow colder

  

I haven’t seen him in over 2 weeks now. I really wanted to see him when I came back from Budapest but first he was too busy and then he was being an asshole and then he was still too busy. Once again he had me up all night in tears. Although this time it wasn’t for fear of losing him, it was because I was so stupid to get back together. 

I just don’t understand what he’s getting from any of this. I don’t understand why I still can’t just walk away… 

The less I see him the less I want to. I can’t imagine him holding me in bed at night or kissing me in the morning the way I could at the height of the heartbreak. I wonder how it wasn’t like this for him… After months apart, not speaking to each other, he decided he missed me and wanted me back in his life. It’s frustrating how we can never truly understand another person. I guess we barely even understand ourselves. 

He’s still hurting me and this time I don’t feel like I’m to blame. When he treats me badly he has no excuse for it. So I dislike myself for not being strong enough to just walk away. I just keep hoping he’ll be nice to me again. I remember he used to feel very comforting… When my head was like a thunderstorm I could lie on his chest and just fall asleep. It would be nice to have that back, especially as I feel so inadequate right now. 

After basically being told I’m shit at my job and that I need to take more responsibility (in areas I’ve had no training in, I might add), I was then given all the shitty jobs that nobody else wants to do. I struggle at a sport I really want to be good at and I don’t think that I’ve done very well in the tests for the job I applied for. The maths was tough (and totally irrelevant to the job – typical).

I’m just feeling very apathetic towards everything and I really hate that. It’s strangely exhausting. I wish somebody would just come along and set me alight again. Make me feel like I am somebody. Meanwhile, I’m spending weeks in bed dreaming of another life entirely. I’ll wake up after Christmas. 
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