Return

Welcome back, Rachel.  For a little while there, I forgot I even had this blog...
Life has been so crazy over the past year (almost two years, actually), that I've forgotten a lot of things.  I forgot the friends I had, the life I once had.  I forgot what it was like to laugh, to cry, to feel normal.  I forgot what it was like to get pleasure out of doing things that used to make me feel awesome.  I forgot how to talk to my family, how to talk to my mother without freaking out over nothing and starting an argument.  And during this past year, I've blamed everyone around me for the way I've been acting and the things I've said and done to others.
That was never the case, though; it was never their fault.  I just couldn't hold myself accountable for the way I felt and the way I was behaving.
I'm better now, though.  I can talk to people– I can talk to my mum again.  I can smile, and laugh, and sing at the top of my lungs.  I can cry.  For the longest time I couldn't cry– I would just lie there at night, with no way of expressing the darkness that was sitting in my chest.  I guess that's why it was so easy to hide myself from everyone around me.
At one point, I thought that was a good thing.  If no one noticed what was happening, maybe it wasn't real?  Or maybe they'd think of other reasons why I was isolating myself and pushing everyone away.
And then maybe they wouldn't be able to welcome me back.
I'm feeling so much better now, and it's amazing.  I'm patient, calm, happy Rachel.  I'm productive Rachel, who loves to help others and surprise them with little things to make their day.  I'm going outside, enjoying my days, talking to my friends again...
Well, talking to most of my friends again.  Funny how the people I knew for almost 7 years refuse to welcome me back into their circle.  What used to be our circle.
I don't know who to hold accountable for this.  I was the one that pushed them away; but they were the ones who did nothing to stop me.  They're the ones who are crushing my attempts to fix the last two years.  But maybe I deserve this?

Today, I feel okay. 
Mind you, it's a pathetic example of "okay", but at least it's something, right?  Anything is better than when I felt not okay. 
I ate today (high-fiving myself), I tried to do something good, and I went to /all/ of my classes.  DID GOOD.

On Saturday, I'm going to visit the University of Toronto for a tour, lecture, and strings masterclass.  I'm excited!  Hopefully this will demolish my fears in regards to the confusion that is post-secondary education, and I'll have one less thing to worry about on those sleepless nights.  

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

Sometimes, I want to kill myself.

Remember when, for roughly two weeks, I was seriously considering auditioning for Humber with violin?  Remember that dream?
Remember when mother didn't rest until she had crushed that dream?  Until it was nothing but a faint memory of what could have been?

I do. 

Sad Night

I am having (clearly) having a sad night.  So instead of seeking comfort from people I care about, I have chosen to listen to Mumford and Sons and blog about my worries (I'm really good at sulking).

Sometimes I regret cutting myself off from you.  Maybe it was dumb. 
But I can't handle this.  

Some days I would feel guilty; talking to you would remind me of pain I may have caused you. 
That would remind me of the pain I caused for others. 
The pain I will cause. 

Other days, I would feel like it was all a lie.  Maybe lie is too harsh of a word.
Or maybe it isn't.
When there was no hope of a happy ending, you left me.
I'm too scared to make you understand how that made me feel. 
How it makes me feel. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCUpvTMis-Y&feature=related

The moon reminds me of your eyes,
shining bright in the depths of my mind.

ANOTHER ONE?

When I started this blog, I was really active (for me). 
I skied, I was biking trails, I ran, I swam a lot.  
Physically, I felt awesome.  Emotionally, not so much, but that's beside the point.  

In the past year, shit has happened.  I saw my doctor far too frequently, had sort of a cancer scare, had a bunch of other scares, realised he lied to me a lot, saw another doctor even more, tried a bunch of pills, did a bunch of tests, saw a specialist, did some more tests, still doing tests.  Only to realise that there isn't anything wrong with me?
The conclusion that we have arrived at is I have an eating disorder.  I do not have an eating disorder. 
I do not have an anything disorder I AM OKAY GO AWAY.  I do not need a therapist, thank you.

Then I saw a chiropractor and he's the first person to tell me that I'm fixable (good news).
So now I'm going to get fixed (hopefully).  
And then I can swim again.  I miss swimming. 

On a happier note, I have more presents. 

(and a sad one)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgLm2gInV4A