to love for the hope of it all

the prodigal daughter returns.

after an unexpected but needed hiatus, i find myself drawn back to this space and in the larger sense, the analysis of my thoughts and feelings. january felt neverending, but february oftens brings new levels of madness and emptiness that i completely forget about until they return. i’m sure there’s some very deeply-rooted reason for it, but i think i can simplify it quite easily to still a bunch of shit going on in my life that i constantly have to deal with.

i adore writing in purely lowercase, i must admit. i think it brings a weird sort of aesthetic that genuinely brings me joy – some strange, surface-level poetry vibe that reasonates with me despite always being terrible at poetry and never quite understanding it. prose, in all of its glory, makes infinitely more sense to me with the level of detail and sentences sprawling hundreds of pages; rather than trying to fit all of the emotions a person is feeling in three, weird iambic-metered lines.

i always find the beginning of the year the most uncomfortable, having to deal i suppose with the consequences of the end of the previous year, but even more than that: the changes it brings. the indecision i often detest in others seems to be extremely prevalent in myself nowadays. more than simply being unsure about my own decisions and thoughts, it seems more difficult than ever to be in sync with the world around me – it feels like while i’m existing in the same time and space to everything else, i’m on a completely different line in some sort of wavelength / timeline existence, and i’m waiting until i inevitably join it back. i think the word for that is lost. i feel lost.

i’m not entirely positive as to why frankly, as i feel like most of the things in my life are actually somewhat objectively settled; but i don’t seem to be. i think this might genuinely be the most frustrating state of mind to find myself in: ___. i have to take a moment to actually consult the wheel of feelings i have saved in my phone in an attempt to try to name exactly what i’m feeling. following the chart, i often struggle to even start trying to quantify how i feel at this exact moment: happy? no. surprised? no. bad? yes. fearful? maybe. angry? no. disgusted? no. sad? yes. how am i meant to put a finger on the actual emotion i feel when i’m meant to be detailing a general feeling i also can’t pinpoint? years of intellectualising emotions, particuarly over these last few months, seem to have really taken its toll on me.

i think i like the word despair a lot. it’ll go away, but i think that’s the best word for it right now at least. i may continue to write later.

i think i give up

The difference a good night’s rest makes in my mood cannot be ignored any longer. It genuinely removes too much of my anxiety and uncertainty of myself in such a staggering way that I must finally start incorporating a good routine that actually lets me start the day with as much joy and energy as possible.

‘mc’ and I are having an intense conversation about feelings and life, and where normally I feel uncertainty and just general unease at the topic being brought up because I feel so disconnected from my own wants and desires – I don’t. I think the conversation with Mom about it last night also helped. I feel sure enough in my own understanding of my current self (you can tell I’ve gone through therapy and learnt the terms) to not spiral into questioning every single decision I make. I think a bit thing that I constantly overthink is whether or not I’m interpreting a situation correctly, either because I worry I’m reading into it too much, or perhaps not even enough and thus rely on other people’s opinions far too much. In all honesty, I did that anyway with the apartment my dad sent me and launched into a full conversation about it with ‘mc’; but I think I’m allowed to do that while still figuring everything out. I deserve some grace. I think by constantly acknowledging my anxiety and how it impairs my judgment and interpretation of things over the last few years, something I especially learnt to do in Montreal, I’ve sorta discredited myself in my own eyes. I realise that I write off a lot of my more emotional or worried thoughts as being part of my anxiety and inherently unhelpful to consider rather than try to work through to find the truth behind it. 

I’m still in the middle of the conversation with ‘mc’ and it’s throwing off my own thoughts as we’re debating something else completely. I echo a sentiment I think I’ve previously shared in this journal – I wish I had kept things between ‘abs’ and I, actually between just the two of us rather than involving other people and opinions. From the beginning I’ve just been defending myself, him and everything, and I’m so tired of it. I know the reaction should be to just push me away from him and the situation but I feel it’s having the opposite effect. I desperately wish I had, from the beginning, let this be something that we figure out without external influence; but I just wasn’t able to or didn’t know how to because of my own need for affirmation in my actions, unable to actually trust myself in it. It’s impossible to go back in time and change anything, so I suppose what I’d ideally want is a start over. I don’t actually think that’s very realistic either, for either of us, but at this exact moment in time, I can’t really focus on that either.

These exams in the next few weeks define what the next few years of my life will look like. They define this year in particular, but also my career and basically everything else. The actual realisation of that keeps me up at night and stresses me beyond explanation; but I also can’t ignore everything else going on in my life (keeping the apartment clean – it’s not; eating – I barely am; sleeping – I barely am). I need to find it in myself to really just focus on this for the time being. I may write again later in the evening.

im too tired to hope today. for anything at this point.

I think it’s time I finally trust my own judgment above all else. Everyone seems to want to “help” but that always involves ‘hard truths’ and not much else. I don’t need to be told over and over how illogical I’m acting, because I frankly could not give less of a shit – I most definitely am, for what it’s worth, but who the fuck cares? I’m human, I have emotions, I’m allowed to act off them and do what I want. It doesn’t actually concern anybody besides myself and ‘abs’.

Very quick side note: Jean-Marie Le Pen died??? Today is a goddamn beautiful day. Trump next please.

Getting back to it: there are certain things I need to focus on for my future, such as my health and education; but I can do absolutely everything else I want so long as I’m fulfilling my responsibilities. I let my anxiety hold me back far too much, worried about people pleasing and other people’s opinions; but I’m just sick of it. I’m happy to make my own mistakes and face the consequences of them, so long as I’m doing what I want to do. I’ve never given myself the opportunity to before. At this point, I know where I stand. I have a number of things I want to do to better myself over the next few months, including focusing on my health (sleep and nutrition) and making sure I actually pass these life-defining exams over the next few weeks. I think I forgot a basic fundamental I used to operate on – what’s meant to be, will. Just like my last few years in Montreal setting up my future before I actually moved to London, there are specific things that need to get done; but otherwise I’m supposed to just enjoy my life. I’m supposed to make mistakes and be dumb and feel and live. I think I worried so much about things with ‘abs’ and doing the ‘right’ thing constantly that I forgot to just be myself. 

I suspect that the things I want to improve on in my life are the main reasons he doesn’t see me as a long-term prospect, and I completely understand that. I’d be lying if I said I was ready for any of the things I know that I want. He’s not exactly fit for anything long-term as it stands either. I focus so much on finding what I’m ‘looking for’ rather than focusing on myself, who I want to be, and what I have to do to accomplish it. I’d like to lose weight, I’d like to be less messy, I’d like to have a more normal relationship with food and manage my anxiety better. I have many flaws, as everyone does, but I’m also very close to being happy with myself. I’m a good daughter, good girlfriend and one day, will be a good wife and mother – not anytime in the very near future hopefully. I’m not ready yet. I truly feel like there could be something good between ‘abs’ and I; but as it stands, there is no possibility of a relationship we’d both be happy to without change from both of us – he’s already said he’s not particularly ready to do that, or at least not with me. I think a big part of why I can’t just walk away from the situation is the potential I see for both of us, but I keep neglecting the changes I need to make to get the future that I actually want. Ideally, at least for the time being, it would be with him but I have no intention of forcing or pressuring anything between us. 

I don’t think I intend on having a long, serious conversation with him anytime in the near future. I’m far too busy with my own things, and I honestly think I’ve said everything there is to be said. If he redevelops feelings, or decides to actually deal with how he feels about me in a mature, real way, then great. Over the last year, a lot of the personal development  goals I built were to try to be the ideal partner for him – admittedly, and well unfortunately for me, most of that lines up with the ‘ideal’ person that I want to be (just another reason I do think things between us could be amazing if we actually genuinely tried). I forgot that I was supposed to be doing it for myself and not somebody else though. I want to be a better person, not so that people like me, but because I’d like to be happier with myself. I want to continue being proud of myself. I want to continue collecting achievements that I’ve wanted my whole life. I want to build a life for myself that looks the way I’ve always dreamed, while adjusting to my own changes in taste and vision. I have an idea of who I want to be at 25. I will achieve it. I’ve always done absolutely everything I’ve put my mind to. It’s time to refocus on my goals. 

I wanted to attend McGill, I spent my last year of high school focusing on academics and easily got in. I wanted to move to London, I completed my degree in Montreal despite all of the family issues I had, made the decision to be realistic about my financials and future with my family and attempted to fix the relationship with my father. When I lost all of my close friends after being overlooked by the sorority for the millionth time, I pursued my interests I never had before, found a D&D group and made friends and memories that I wouldn’t change for the world. I’ve always rebuilt myself – ‘better’, more ambitious and stronger.

I hate that I have to be, but perhaps this is just what life is really. Wanting things, trying to get them, realising along the way that it’s not going to happen or you don’t want them anymore; and just adapting. I chose who I am. I want to feel more educated? Reading and research. I want to feel more comfortable with my body? Proper nutrition, better health and working out. I want to be tidied or more disciplined? Build a routine. I want to feel more put together? Build a wardrobe that aligns with it and upkeep maintenance habits. I’ve only become a better version of myself over time, and right now and especially until my 25th birthday will be no exception to it. I’m sick of disliking myself. I’m sick of wondering what my life would be like and how it would feel to actually have the things that I want. It’s time to do what I have to in order to achieve what I want, and just fucking enjoy everything else. I’m meant to enjoy life. It’s time I do. Which includes trusting my own instincts rather than constantly asking people for their opinions and letting it influence me.

It’s crazy what actually eating food and getting some sleep, sunlight, a morning pilates class and fresh air does. I’m still going to keep hoping things turn out the way I want them to with ‘abs’, because I refuse to pretend to be someone I’m not – I’m much too hopeful as a person, I care too much about him, I yearn for him. That’s how I am in love. It’s not for everyone, especially if the person wants something surface level, but it’ll be for someone. I know it will because I exist. I hope it is for him, but if it’s not then it’s not. I’m going to keep building on the foundation of myself that I adore so far – 2025 and being 25 are going to be amazing, because I’m going to make sure they are, the same way I made sure last year was.

I fear this entry is just going to be self-loathing, regret and a bit of desperation mixed in. I suppose nobody really stays. Not around me at least, not for me. I feel like my entire life has been revolving doors of people coming into my life, adoring and using me for whatever they can, whatever serves them until deciding that I have nothing left to offer and leaving. I’m not even sure where the fuck these feelings are coming from right now, besides just feeling lonely. People want me around when I serve a purpose to them – financially, entertainment based on shitty things I put myself through, company because nobody else is available; but nobody wants to actually stay after. Nobody wants to be there when I’m the one who needs help, not really; not more than just asking how I’m doing on a night out, or trying to get more information about a situation I’ve created (romantic in nature). It feels like my entire life has been trying to prove to people that I’m worth making an effort, worth the hassle, worth the occasional difficulty of being in their life and it just isn’t working, ever. I still feel like a teenager begging for people to give a shit, knowing I’m throwing out signal after signal, asking for help discreetly – the only way I know how to; and yet it’s not working. 

I don’t know if I’m destined for a life of just feeling like second best to everybody, if I’m even lucky enough to be in contention in the first place. I’m terrified that I am. That this is what it’s always going to be like. I can’t seem to keep friends in my life for very long, always feeling like the personal growth both of us are doing doesn’t align in any way, and wanting to leave before they do. God knows I can’t maintain a healthy relationship for longer than a few years, putting up with far too much early on and setting up a pattern of disappointment for myself that eventually gets too overwhelming to deal with when things really get to get serious and long term commitment is mentioned. I can’t stay happy. The only conclusion I can reach is that there must be something inherently wrong with me. As a person, as a human, as an entity in the galaxy. Am I just meant to feel pain, in varying forms, constantly? I keep adapting to thing after thing and trying to glue myself back together after all of the damage but I’m not sure I have the strength to anymore. It’s so exhausting feeling like I’ll never really be good enough for anyone. It makes trying to stay positive and hopeful impossible. There are so many situations where I regret my actions and the outcome they caused, cutting out or losing someone important in my life, but I don’t think anyone ever regrets losing me. 

It’s hard to believe that I’m meant to feel more than this when I never have. I don’t know how to let people love me when it includes letting them in completely; when it comes to trusting they’ll still be there after learning everything about me; because the truth is that nobody ever does. Nobody stays. Nobody thinks I’m worth the effort. I desperately try to prove and convince people that I am, but I have no leg to stand on, no magical argument that makes it true; it doesn’t seem to be. 

Combat, I’m ready for combat

I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?

‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

Easy they come, easy they go

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it’s getting so old

Help me hold onto you

I’ve been the archer

I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay? (The Archer, Taylor Swift)

I’m still on that tightrope

I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me

I’m still a believer but I don’t know why

I’ve never been a natural

All I do is try, try, try

I’m still on that trapeze

I’m still trying everything

To keep you looking at me (mirrorball, Taylor Swift)

And I sound like an infant

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen

A greater woman stays cool

But I howl like a wolf at the moon

[…]

A greater woman has faith

But even statues crumble if they’re made to wait

I’m so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I’m just a paperweight in shades of greige

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me it’ll be okay

Please I’ve been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don’t want money

Just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo the prophecy? (The Prophecy, Taylor Swift).

I suppose it makes sense that it’s the trifecta of songs I feel most represent my desperation for just, something. Something that makes me feel like I’m not a mess of a human being who actually deserves love and people around her. I don’t even want to be around myself most of the time, so I do get it; I just wish it weren’t the case.

It’s been a really long day. I didn’t even really realise the date until I started writing this – most of my close female friends I have since drifted apart from are born on January 6th, and I wonder if that’s why I’ve been feeling like shit all day. At this point there could be about a million different reasons wy, including barely sleeping last night because I couldn’t fall asleep. I may need to start sleeping on the couch if I’m just going to keep tossing and turning and feeling the emptiness of my bed, because it’s exhausting to barely sleep a few hours, get dressed and just start my day. This morning felt horrendous, walking to class and around the city like a corpse that’s been made to put on clothes and get done up for an open casket, trudging along with my day waiting to feel better – admittedly, I did by the time I was walking home. I wonder if some form of delayed comedown just threw me off completely, but it’s much more likely to be the lack of sleep and actual nutrients. So far, I’ve been able to keep down a bowl of pasta from two hours ago, but I still find it difficult to want to eat, and thus to eat point blank. I think I just worried my mum talking about it on the phone, so I’ll go back to keeping my terrible habits to myself. 

I have the most important academic few weeks coming up until the end of February, and yet my mind feels so unclear and foggy. I can’t help thinking about ‘abs’, worrying about my family (and especially my brother) and honestly about myself a little bit. I know that time heals all, and things will pass and solve themself and everything, but at the moment it’s just tiring to go through. I worry about ‘abs’ and how he’s doing without a real chance to actually talk to him about it (at least so far) because of how strange things are between us. It’ll be quite nice to see him over the weekend and hear more about his travels – it sounds like he had a lovely time, and if I ignore the soul-shattering thoughts behind it (dramatic) and the company he chose, I’m so glad that he went and enjoyed himself. Frankly I have too much on my mind to even attempt to fully process things, especially wanting to avoid just making assumptions without talking to him and letting my thoughts run amok. It’s been extremely entertaining to start using more intricate language that I don’t really have the chance to anymore as I no longer write essays for university. It’s been really nice to have some form of creative outlet, although I know that revealing my inner dialogue is not necessarily a good idea. I suppose it will do for the moment and help ease the feeling of not being able to talk to anyone about things on my mind. 

I’m so unbelievably worried about academics, and it comes in waves of extreme, intense anxiety that just feels overwhelming, to complete calm, thinking that I have more than enough time to revise and get everything done. I reckon a balance of both is probably healthiest – so perhaps I’ll get there this week. I must completely focus on my exams for the next two weeks, despite everything else on my mind, so we’ll find out just how successful I am. 

I crave company but push people away; I desire love but am terrified of it; I long for something greater without knowing what it is. What am I? Confused. 

What a fun melodramatic first few lines for an evening that frankly is much needed. Evenings like these where I’m just sat on the couch relaxing with no real intention to be productive just make me wish I had somebody to do it with. Not even in a particularly romantic sense. Just some company, sit in the quiet or watch a film / show and enjoy the laid back moment. That being said, part of me is also relieved by the silence of everything that isn’t the show I have on right now, and the fact that I can just sit here in my pyjamas without needing to talk to anyone or do anything. Perhaps it is time I get a lil cat to keep me company – it would do me a lot of good, despite how worried I am about taking care of it. I suppose this is just another example of how conflicting my desires are sometimes. I want somebody or at least something to spend time with, I desperately want to take care of someone but am also just terrified at this point. 

I think that’s part of why I was so withdrawn in my approach to the situation with ‘abs’, worried about what I thought he wanted and what I should do rather than what I actually wanted to. There’s just always been a lot of pressure surrounding us, at least in my opinion, especially with everyone in our friend group being somewhat involved. I think that’s a huge reason I keep holding on to the possibility of an ‘us’ again, because it truly does feel like neither of us were particularly genuine in our approach to it and that things would work perfectly between us if we actually both tried. I suppose the issue with that is that he has made it clear that it isn’t something he would like to do, so I guess I’m just hoping that changes at some point. I don’t think continuing to yearn, long and ‘wait’ is the worst idea. I know it may not be the smartest for myself and my life, but it kinda reminds me of my own criticisms about modern society – people want everything, as soon as possible, and move onto another thing the second they don’t get it. I don’t particularly want to just move on rather than actually believe in my instinct that there might genuinely be something real between us. The confliction lays in what I want versus what I think I should do. 

I don’t find it particularly easy to trust my own instincts as of late. I have a feeling it may be linked to my perception of my own mental health since my teenage years – the guilt from not knowing what to do between my parents, never being sure what the best way to fit in with friends and at school is, and since I turned eighteen what I’m supposed to do with my life. I often am sure of my decision of pursuing law as it’s something I adore and feel I’m good at, and allows me to actually make some form of difference in the world. I wonder if it’s a reflection of a deep-seated need to prove myself to everyone, including myself; seems extremely likely frankly. I think I just want to feel useful and needed, potentially a main reason and motivation for wanting to have kids, seemingly in a rush for absolutely no reason. I keep hoping that getting older, and learning things that I’ll somehow figure out who I am, what I want and what I should be doing to achieve it. So far, not quite what I was expecting. It is however really interesting to keep discovering things about myself, even if they are hard to deal with sometimes. I think that’s probably enough deep thinking for the evening as I’m lacking sleep and should probably eat something. 

Sometimes you just need a nice night out, too many drinks, too many drugs, surrounded by friends – that was last night. Apparently in 2025 I just try things because I trust the people I’m with, which is actually quite nice. I was feeling extremely rough this morning, no doubt exacerbated by my few hours of sleep; in a tale as old as time, throwing up what little I had in my system was honestly a godsend. The comedown from the (copious, at least for me) cocaine is not as brutal as I expected today, which begs the question about my general level of happiness recently, if a comedown that usually causes suicidal ideation or at least some form of depressing internal reflection has little effect on me at this point. I think I’m just thinking about my brother and family too much, and my very internalised guilt about the situation to really focus on anything at the moment. 

Finally spoke to ‘abs’ on the phone literally just now and it’s so nice to hear about his trip and just chat, worrying about it made me forget just how easy it is to be friends with him and just,,, talk. I’m hoping I’m going to be able to keep food down today, because so far it’s just not been working or helping at all. I might write more in the evening but I think I’m just tired and don’t want to focus on my thoughts really.

I wonder just how far into my childhood I would have to look to understand why being ignored triggers such an intense feeling of shame, embarrassment and disappointment. I suspect it has to do with my father’s lack of attention to me my entire life, despite my mum trying to overcompensate for it. I suppose that’s how it is when two incompatible people, however much they may have seemed compatible at first, must raise children together and one of them just does not put in any effort. I wonder if that’s the future I’m dooming myself to. Of constant disappointment. It’s a thought I often ponder when trying to understand what I want for my life and trying to imagine what my future looks like. Frankly, I’m too tired to delve deeper into the sadness of my psyche at the moment. I just feel unsure, nervous and exhausted. 

This is the main problem with my overthinking and why I constantly feel the need to distract myself – I had a lovely time out with people tonight, attempting to play monopoly, and yet coming home just makes me feel so empty. It no doubt has to do with the emptiness of the apartment itself, and knowing that I’m the only one responsible and who can put it and myself in order. I’m the only one who can drag myself out of the pits of my emotions, despite how much I desperately want help. I think it’s time for me to get some rest before what will be, I’m sure, a long and confusing day tomorrow with ‘dc”s event.