Happy Birthday, Me.

Yosemite25 is when your brain “fully develops”, or at least that’s what science claims happens. I don’t feel the slightest bit mature. I spent approximately 21 hours of my birthday in my room – my sanctuary. A place I retreat to because I’m a lazy fuck, and could lie on my bed while I entertain myself with this invention called the Internet. I stay in my room sometimes not because I don’t want to socialize, but because it’s where I chill, as simple and as mediocre as it sounds.

My last post was possibly a little messed up, I admit. I wasn’t in a good place in my head. Tried to fake it till I made it, I guess. Anyway, the people that mattered most to me remembered my birthday, and that was enough for me. Although, it was a tad upsetting that I wasn’t able to just spend time with the people I love. That’s all I ever wanted for my birthday, not presents, not surprise parties, not cakes, not even a trip to Disneyland – just time someone is willing to give up, for me, on what people tell me is supposed to be my ‘special’ day.

I went away for a few days a week back to gather my thoughts, to find what makes me feel alive. I remembered having a near death experience months ago while climbing, and remembered how alive I felt after. So I sought that feeling. I went to free climb, something I’ve never done before, and have zero experience in. Something dangerous, just so I could feel alive. Suffice to say, it worked. I hit my head, hard, knocked myself out, fell quite a ways, and survived with a busted forehead, some bruises all over my body, and a sprained ankle. But hey, I felt ALIVE.

https://i1.wp.com/hararebackpackers.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/rock-climbing-harare-backpackers.jpgI know some would say this is the stupidest way to cope with this blackhole of sadness I’ve recently been in, but it worked. I recently made a promise to essentially not be dead. I am a woman of my word, and so, I intend to keep it. I dare say that I am the rare few that takes promises seriously. I have my reasons, but promises are what I thrive on. Before I had that mini concussion on the rocks, I had a divine intervention. I was in an area with no cell reception. But somehow, while I was standing over a cliff, I got a call from my best friend, one, if you read my last post, who tried to off herself recently. She was done living, again, and so was I, again. But we had somebody greater to be responsible for – a 7-year-old girl that was her daughter, a little girl who I was the legal guardian of if something were to happen to my best friend. In that moment, we remembered that we were being selfish.

I was ready to go. Before I left for the trip, I had prepared a holographic will which was a handwritten will that was legal in the State of California where I reside. I had all my ducks in a row, if you will. I said no goodbyes, left no note. I just said I was leaving and will come back because there was no point in explaining anything else that was going through my mind. I have had many unsuccessful attempts in the past. Only unsuccessful because somehow people managed to intervene. Another author of this site reminded me of how we met and how in that moment, realized that he cared for me. It made me tear up because somehow, I was a person that someone else, that wasn’t my family, or best friend, wanted to care about. But I was determined. I was stupid, and determined.

“A friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow.” ―William Shakespeare

In the weeks that led up to that moment, other people have been confiding in me. It made me realize that I still hadn’t confided in anyone. I have best friends I would die for, yet, would rather die before sharing my pain with. That is my best, and worst trait. When I got the phone call, everything changed. Now, dying is not an option I would ever consider ever again. I have too much love in me to give away. I love hard and deep, so when something goes awry, I also fall hard and deep. But it’s alright. Life happens. Not all roses and crap like that, and life is definitely one son of a bitch, but it is also worth living, even if the only person keeping me going is a 7-year-old who sings Let It Go nonstop. People have told me to do things for myself, but sometimes, I hate myself too much to want to do anything for myself. So that 7-year-old, she is my lifesaver. And if risky adventures are all I can do to keep my darkness at bay, so be it.

November has been, and still is, a rollercoaster ride of a month, and we’re not even halfway done with it. But what I’ve realized this month is that no matter how hard I fight with my best friends, how we never spend time with one another, how we are all going through some bullshit none of us want to admit, all that shit doesn’t matter because they are always with me, within me, in my heart.

“True friendship is never serene.” —Marquise de Sevigne


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