not quite nostalgia
Oct. 20th, 2019 12:38 pmOne of the bingo squares for a reading challenge I'm doing is Book you last read in high school, which somehow led me to reading private LJ posts I wrote when I was seventeen: a traumatized, hormonal, unmedicated bundle of insecurity grappling with being in my first romantic/sexual relationship while simultaneously applying to college and living under my dad's emotionally abusive thumb. It's not quite as bad as watching a slow motion train wreck, but it's. It's a lot. The Urban Dictionary entry of Everything Happens So Much should have a picture of my teen self next to it.
I just want to go back say, things aren't going to get better for a long time, but you'll get there; I promise. (Also, you're not going to believe me now, but you're way too fucking good for him and he isn't worth your time or energy or emotions.)
Also, can I just say, holy shit I'm glad I'm not seventeen anymore. I've never more acutely felt relieved and grateful that I am 31 and a mostly functioning adult who pays bills and has a job and can just do pretty much whatever I want whenever I want. Sometimes you need a small reminder of what freedom feels like.
I just want to go back say, things aren't going to get better for a long time, but you'll get there; I promise. (Also, you're not going to believe me now, but you're way too fucking good for him and he isn't worth your time or energy or emotions.)
Also, can I just say, holy shit I'm glad I'm not seventeen anymore. I've never more acutely felt relieved and grateful that I am 31 and a mostly functioning adult who pays bills and has a job and can just do pretty much whatever I want whenever I want. Sometimes you need a small reminder of what freedom feels like.
