Tag / quarterlife crisis

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: desiring stability while creating chaos

its no secret that i was (am) an agent of chaos. maybe ive always been, getting a high out of getting a reaction out of people, catfishing all those desperate, horny tinder boys for the fun of it all (its so easy to pretend to be someone youre not), testing those closest to me just to poke the bear.

i like to stir the pot – i dont really know why. i dont understand my need for ruining the bonds i have with those i cherish most, the self-sabotage of it all. maybe in my own fucked up fashion, i want to see if they care. after all, actions speak louder than words.

i need to see if they care (and self-doubt creeps in, the happiness blockage that tells me im not good enough), whether they can save me when i cant even save myself.

i destroy everything i touch. and i cant fucking help it.

maybe in the end of the day, theres still a part of me that feels like i dont deserve any of it; not my friends, whove given support and nourishment in times of need, the ones whove survived all the rough patches of my emotional turmoil, check-ins via text to reassure me that they give a shit about me; not my boyfriend, not the daily morning coffee he makes me, the patience of someone who has to tolerate my antics, the attention and care that he and i both know i crave and need, the small acts of love and affection (or maybe just love as a whole).

and sometimes i wonder whether i deserve someone toxic and manipulative, someone like me; i wonder if im ruining my boyfriends life and that i should just let him go (let him be free). i want him to be happy, to be free from all the chaos i carry and represent – he can have someone he doesnt have to coddle because theyre too ill to take care of themselves, probably a nice but bland girl, quiet and on par with his calmness, someone who never gives him as much pushback as i do.

he will never find someone like me, someone with the stories (and the trauma), dark humor that even my therapists have laughed at. but maybe chaos and stability just dont mix and he deserves better.

id like to think i have the stability part down, at least externally (internally, not so much).

does it make me selfish if i pity myself but i have a good life?

minuscule happenings, unpredictable circumstances that transform into emotional monstrosities, until they materialize into a beast of its own, the battles that cant be won without the hurt – and ill continue to break whats unbroken (just because i can), and ill still shatter each time i purposely cause problems, ruin things.

having a good life but a brain that eggs me on to self-sabotage because i dont deserve any of this, ill keep on shattering, the master of my own hell.

GFY, fleur

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: “and our hearts still beat the same”

i dont have much to say these days. i turn the world off, tune out the noise by blasting la dispute, hole, tonight alive on repeat through my airpods, crawling back into my safe space as i try to make right with the world, my world (and myself).

im okay, i think – or as okay as one can be under these circumstances.

im trying, okay?

my life feels a little less heavy this week – maybe its the louboutins (courtesy of my boyfriend, more about this later), maybe im tired of feeling sorry for myself for no reason in particular. maybe its because people do give a shit about me, im just too disconnected and detached to realize.

maybe its just time to heal, or at least attempt to, before things are too broken to repair.

i need to fix my relationships with others (most notably my boyfriend, because lets be honest, im kind of a high-maintenance pain-in-the-ass); to save what we have left or find the love and infatuation that connected us in the first place – i dont really know.

i need to heal my relationship with myself, stop the self-loathing for never feeling like im enough, for always wanting more, the inferiority and bullshit of it all.

and quite honestly, i dont know where the fuck to start and its all just overwhelming, wanting to be something but not having the motivation or the discipline that it takes to achieve the “goals” id (want) to strive for. and in the end it all comes down to my laziness, maybe even my lack of potential.

and then there are the facts, the familiar patterns that ive engrained into my life, my stupid fucking brain.

i know that i dont want to live in the shadows forever, concealed by this darkness (heaviness) i find belonging and safety in. the thoughts of inferiority have caused me to spiral out of control, so now its time for me to realize (discover?) what i bring to the table.

i also know i dont want to be alone.

i push people away, i know i do.

but everyone needs to grow up at some point (or pretend to), and i realize that not all love is fake and that not all love can be taken granted for.

and my mother says to me: “please treasure him.”

and im trying to – to not speak to him in harsh tones, to learn to control the toxicity and negativity that i project onto him (the bitterness ive held thats outlasted the distance), to not resent him for his shortcomings or his successes, even if they make me feel inferior.

teamwork – thats what im trying to drill into my head, that in order to make this work, we need to be playing for the same side. we shouldnt be pitted against each other – over who can be more petty about money and reckless spending, over who can hurt the other more with words spoken out of spite or stupid, passive aggressive actions.

i dont want to lose you – i cant lose you. i guess thats what it means when you date your best friend and theres just too much to lose.

“your hands still catch the light the right way and

our hearts still beat the same,

and our hearts still beat the same.”

– la dispute, “nobody, not even the rain”

and through music and one tree hill, maybe we can find our way back to each other. la dispute puts it best: scars will remain.

they will but i cant guarantee another broken, beating heart that matches mine nearly as well as yours does.

that has to count for something, right?

GFY, fleur

p.s. tbh this whole post is horrible and i kind of hate it idk why i decided to word VOMIT but im learning not to bottle up emotions so here goes (enjoy my chaos). i cannot live in my head forever

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: in my feelings

“im smoking while im runnin’ on my treadmill,

but im cutting up roses,

could it be that i fell for another loser.”

– lana del rey, “in my feelings”

maybe theres a part of me that just loves losers, pathetic and sad people who just need me, those willing to bend backwards to please me. its narcissistic (i know) – to having a running mental list in your head of those you know you are better than. then there are those you dont even bother competing with at all because youll never win.

and i need to win. i always need to win and “enough” will never truly satisfy me.

i need to prove myself. it seems like no one comprehends why i need to prove myself, why being “just me” isnt good enough or worthy in my eyes.

lately, ive been thinking that my need (drive) to prove myself is less to show the outside world that i matter. i need to prove to myself that i matter, that i have a contribution and a voice.

we have empty dreams of making a difference, leaving our marks on this world – legacy, name, whatever. maybe were all just terrified of being forgotten and left behind when the world continues to orbit and i just exist, stagnant.

ive always loved losers – tinder fuckboys like roaches, the ones who always come back to regain a lost past; the temporary friends i paraded around like minions, constantly at my beck-and-call and friendship defined by my terms.

i cant stand being told what to do. but i love the power in telling others what to do.

tell me what i should be doing and the vessels in my brain snap – i explode. i guess i dont do well with authority, or superiority, or any of the like.

and losers always provided me with that – the superiority i so desperately crave (need), the attention-seeking and ego-feeding infiltrating my brain so that i can feel worthy, even if its temporary.

maybe it just takes one to know one – they are all fucking losers and im a loser too, and we just live in a world of degenerates who are essentially aimless but fake goals and pretend that the universe actually gives a shit about you or your damaged ego.

my boyfriend has proved hes not a loser – with his six figure salary, high profile job, a life that seems so fucking put together im not sure where i fit in anymore. i had envisioned our intertwined lives finding our way together under disturbed, unexpected circumstances but it turns out the world despises me and strives to punish the shit out of me despite the fact that im actively trying.

im trying so hard every fucking day – to fake that smile and radiate positivity, to pretend everything ok, just fucking ok.

and at this point, maybe its time to make nice with myself and face the facts: i am a fucking loser, who loves looking down on other losers because those are the only people beneath me in this mental hierarchy ive created within my universe.

maybe some things will never change and we just have to accept the shitty hand were given.

keep faking it – it might not pay off, but at least youll fool everyone around you.

GFY, fleur

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: “riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a bitch”

as a kid, i felt like my life was defined by competition – who was smarter, more talented, who was prettier, skinnier than me. at times, i still find myself defensive because my childhood was painted with so much inferiority and it felt like i always had the short end of the stick.

if i dont stick up for myself, who the fuck will?

no one in this life is perfect and maybe thats just that – its life itself; messy, unpredictable, and so completely fucking out of control.

we search for truth, for answers, and as much as we deny it, the unknown scares the shit out of us. so honestly, whats the point of it all?

whats the point in being a good person, in wearing your heart on your sleeve, if life continues to kick you in the ass no matter how much effort you put forth?

whats the point in putting forth kindness and positivity when karma turns a blind eye to the injustice and those whove wronged you just get away, scott-free? the wrongs are never made right and people are riddled with lies and empty promises; the only guarantee is the inescapable disappointment in the universe as a whole.

i dont need anyone coming to my rescue. i believe im fully capable of taking care of my own shit – ill fight my battles alone, simmer alone in my hatred for all those whove wronged me.

i dont need anything from anyone, and i dont owe anyone a single fucking thing.

but i feel like the world owes me; for all thats taken and lost, for the lack of signs or direction, for putting my soul in this body and this brain, for forcing me to deal with shitty people who still live in my mind rentfree.

nothing lasts forever – not you, not me, not this shitty ass universe that is on a mission to welcome us all to the dark side.

maybe none of it – nothing – even matters (everything and everyones temporary anyway). my default is just angst and recklessness, the inability to forget and forgive and the inability to let go.

if this were a competition, id be taking the prize for angry, bitter bitch. years of pent up resentment – thats what i hold.

i hate my ex-best friend who ive known since we were in preschool, who was always trying to one up me as we rounded the corner into high school, the type a kind of asshole whod push me to tell her my test scores even though she knew i had failed.

i hate the first boy who decimated my faith and trust in humanity (its been almost a decade and i still dream of the day he gets run over by a bus).

i hate my ex-dogsitter (“friend”), who would always remind me how much skinnier she was compared to me and wouldnt shut the fuck up about how “tiny” she was. she knew i struggled with body image, but she just had to push me to my breaking point in which ive opted to skip meals for the spirit of competition. if only she could see me now, the drastic weight loss – i just survive, barely eating unless stoned and feeding off pills for sustenance (and sanity).

i guess i always feel like i have something i need to prove to show that im worthy. im tired of trying, to vouch for myself and show im capable.

ive made my peace with letting people go – its not so difficult when you dont really let them in to begin with. letting go of the situations and learning to forgive – now thats out of the question (even if it destroys me from the inside).

in the end of the day, maybe im just “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a bitch.”

and im okay with that. being a “good person” has never lead to anything but hurt and betrayal anyway.

nothing lasts forever, and there is no point in supporting and tiptoeing around people who dont have a place in your life when there was never a silver lining to begin with.

GFY, fleur

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: selective mutism

i can pin point when it all started, when i just stopped talking, opting to bottle every emotion i had and letting the heaviness (the burden of carrying this weight) rot me from the insides. it was memorial day weekend of 2019, my return home after graduating from college and learning to navigate (or at least trying to) a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend after living with him for months.

i hate change. maybe thats obvious at this point. too much change, and i crack completely (orchid children or whatever they call it, the fragile ones prone to breaking).

i hated living in houston for pretty much the entire time that i was there for college, retreating back to my hometown the second i finished my last in-person final, spirit flights purchased on impulse out of the need to be home.

you changed that. my last year in houston was by far my favorite, and its all thanks to you. i owe you for that, for making the best year of my houston/college experience, for being part of my story; i cherish those days when things between us were just easy, light and i just really fucking loved you.

i was happy. maybe the happiest id ever been.

i dont even know if im capable of that happiness anymore.

and on my final year, i found myself struggling to let go of that dirty, old houston apartment, even though the apartment has smelled like cat piss since we moved in and no amount of baking soda or professional cleaners and products had been able to successfully eliminate the atrocious scent. but that apartments important, monumental; because thats where we began, thats where our story started.

sometimes i wonder if those days are gone for good, that our lives together will ever feel as pivotal as it was back then and all i needed was you. and i wonder if we hold on to these memories too tightly, and were just lying to ourselves to try to make “us” work.

what changed between us? did we already reach our peak, and all thats destined is the inevitable fall?

i need clarity, so fucking badly (ive even reached out to my psychic, since all her predictions have come to pass and the universe refuses to offer me a sign).

and i cant stop thinking about when things went south with us, why i cant stop snapping at you lately, what happened between us to make conversations more scarce to the point of just pure silence. i cant stop being a bitch to you and i know im going to push you away, and maybe i already have.

i miss “us,” the old “us,” and i mourn that loss everyday as i continue to give you the silent treatment, plotting my escape to my parents house just for the sake of running away.

im shutting you out – i know i am. i just cant help it, imagining the worst case scenarios, that youll leave me because i dont think i make you happy.

maybe theres still a part of me that resents you for putting me through a long-distance relationship in the first place (through no fault of your own). youre here now; physically, i guess i am too but mentally, ive been checked out, engulfed in my own world, consuming thoughts.

you werent there when i needed you the most and maybe theres a part of me thats unable to forgive you for that. you werent there that night my 16 year-old maltese passed away, when i received that frenzied phone call from my parents while out to dinner with our friends. they said he wasnt able to hold his head up, and doesnt seem to be lucid, that were losing him.

you werent there when my mom told me my nanny/my third grandmother died due to surgery complications when i was in my last semester of college. my parents never fucking told me when it happened. conveniently my mom had to tell me this immediately after my dogs passing (great timing, mother).

it signaled an end of an era – the end of college, the end of childhood itself with the combined losses of my dog and my nanny, someone i had gone to visit each time i returned. the last time i saw her, i had a breakdown. maybe even then, i knew i would never see her again.

too much change, too many endings – so i stopped talking. i shut the world off, closing the blinds and surrounding myself with my thoughts. i kept (keep) everyone at a distance, and the shift was palpable.

these days it seems like anger is my primary reaction to everything, and i cant seem to find a balance in any aspect of my life; not with my boyfriend, not with my friends, not within myself.

“im gonna tell you how it is, dont give a shit about how you feel.”

im trying to find my voice again, to have the ownership and power of my own words. i need to be in control of my life again.

“look me right inside my eyes and you tell me the truth.”

what exactly do you even see anymore?

emptiness and sadness built on resentment, selective mutism, and the refusal to forgive, but maybe a slight glimmer of hope (the light at the end of the tunnel). thats what youll see.

GFY, fleur

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: mememe (do i sound like a joke when im talking to you?)

i hate forced positivity. its so toxic and fake, plastering on a smile for the sake of someone elses wellbeing even though your silent wounds ache.

its always about everyone else, isnt it? everyone else – anyone else but me. each day since entering 27, i just seem to get more transparent. ill eventually become one with the background, vanishing into nothing. im trapped in a soundproof glass box thats my life, and i need an escape.

phantom pain – going unspoken about, untended to. were all hurting and no one gives a damn (especially if they dont know).

theres a part of me that stays silent because i dont believe that others deserve to know what im thinking at the core, how i feel about them, whether theyve done something to bother me to the point of these happenings living rentfree.

if i said all the things i want to say, id probably be left by everyone (and maybe its time to make my peace with that).

words bite – both mine and theirs. and “forgiveness” isnt an emotional attribute that im capable of, foreign to my vocabulary completely. if i dont forget, i cannot forgive.

but silence and unknowing – that might be worse to receive versus a confrontation. forever a guessing game, and whether one rude comment would push me over the edge and the silence that follows, thats up to their own interpretation.

so ill leave apology texts unread, issues unresolved for weeks while i simmer in my anger, boiling into hatred. silent pain on both parties, but at least im in control.

theres another part of me that holds everything in my heart because i truly believe they wouldnt give a fuck, that no one gives a rats ass about me and my fragile emotions.

ive befriended my pain, my misery. its a part of me, my secret to hold, my comfort to keep. ive learned to rely on it (the misery, and no one else). maybe once youve had enough practice – years, even – of playing the role of “ok,” you become the expert of hiding behind that mask.

i guess its such an easy game.

theres a weight, a heaviness that i cant get rid of because my mind keeps whispering to me that no one cares.

mememe – i cant help but wanting to make more conversations revolve around me. and i expect everyone around me to be psychic, dancing around my expectations and creating a me-centric world.

i thrive off attention.

the third part of me knows i have a delayed reaction to anger (and most other emotions) and i cant tell if my anger and dissatisfaction is justified or all in my head.

i dont really know me (in that case). whats real, whats fake – it all blends together and love immediately transforms into hate and sometimes back again, an endless cycle depending on how much they hear me.

maybe no one really knew me to begin with.

maybe youll never know anything about me.

GFY, fleur

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: not your backup plan (but you may be mine)

at 7, i had no idea what a backup plan was, the whole meaning behind the concept, the insecurity nonexistent to my tiny little world – the innocence of it all. at 17, i made due with being the backup plan, filled with angst and self-loathing and bullshit – complacent and desperate for attention, and never truly happy, never truly worthy.

at 17, i hated myself. i hated my world, friendships so fake i couldnt even lie to myself about how much the core of these people irritated me – these people i once thought so highly about, put on a pedestal. boring, bland, basic – and i wanted so badly to be like them at one point in my life (no fucking idea why, maybe i just enjoy torturing myself) as much as they represent and illustrate everything ive learned to hate.

and like that, the main group (the one i had desired to be a part of for so long) got downgraded as i surrendered those deadend friendships in exchange for a smaller circle (only two from high school remain in my current orbit).

im 27 now (as of this week actually; cheers to the virgo/leo cusps). im 27 and i have not an earthly idea what im doing with my life. the curse of 27 is hitting at full force and all i can do is let myself spiral, silent sobs that go unheard because i dont exist.

if i tell that to myself enough times, will i disappear? (i dont exist, i dont exist, i dont exist).

maybe its all in my head, the assumption that everyone can treat me as temporary, tossed aside like trash and left to rot, forgotten. or maybe everyone has a personal hierarchy, a ranking of which friends they value most and im embodying the second-class citizen energy and bringing it to fruition.

there are so many happenings that take place in a decade.

people leave, people come back. ive made my peace with that. people are temporary – they dont matter and neither do i.

and at age 27, i realize i no longer have a backup plan (not with my friendships, not with my relationship), it just feels like im running out of friends.

i still remember the days where people in my life resided in different categories – there are “the primaries,” the friends you actually want (care) to be associated with, the ones with the privilege of priority. then there are “the secondaries” – they serve a purpose, reeking of desperation and approval, those ive bailed on once “the primaries” come calling.

if i call myself a second-class citizen in my own life, id be the first to admit to having a hierarchy, an order of who matters more.

and it amazes me, that five years ago, i was creating my own definition of chaos and reckless behavior but i always had a backup plan so id never be alone. guys queued up, ranked by how much i liked them – security blanket in the advent of rejection, but then again i always loved moping in private (my pity party), bottled up feelings and loud thoughts.

at 27, i think ive lost faith in the world – in my world – and i wonder if the nagging loneliness will ever leave for good.

i wonder whether its time to find some more unsuspecting, lonely-hearted people (temporary friends, so reminiscent of my past) to become victims to my backup plan, lining them up like plushies on an assembly belt, neatly packaging them away in boxes with gift wrap, only to be opened when needed, “secondary” friends like some fucked up consolation prize for all thats loved and lost.

“i told myself im tired of holding up your backup plans.”

this time, ill return as the one in control, curating my backup plans in case my current world fails to work out according to my plan.

maybe emotional attachment isnt for me, and if i need to let go of my life as it stands, ill need to be ready.

id rather be an asshole who plays with heartstrings than be alone.

GFY, fleur

by girlwithlandline

GIRL SPEAKS: dark blue

does anyone else ever feel like a second class citizen in their own universe? as if those you chose to be your friends are always superior to you and you just exist in their realm for the sake of it.

ive always been the girl with a consistent friend group and a girl i call my twin that i met on tumblr who lives across the country; but ive also been the girl with the occasional new (and inconsistent) “best friend” popping into the picture, usually someone i just met and barely know but the we-must-must-must-hang-out somehow leads to something that vaguely resembles a friendship.

the foundations of these friendships (these temporary best friends) are built on loneliness and convenience. they usually end when i realize that i never intended for them to be my best friend in the first place, that i dont want to be like them or i just completely fucking hate their personality (after all, i already have a best friend, my twin).

these friendships, they never end well.

as for these unfortunate souls that sit in the “non-permanent” category, its usually infatuation on their part. the only reason id know that is because i know myself (and they dont know me) – i refuse to reach out, initiate or anything. at the same time i wouldnt say im shy; i guess some of us are just built more fragile (like porcelain dolls) and we just cant handle rejection, too arrogant to come off as desperate.

i keep these miserable people around even though i know are temporary (and that ill eventually reach a breaking point with them) all to soothe my injured ego, to make me feel superior in having a minion.

maybe im power hungry (or maybe im just a bitch).

maybe i dont get enough of that in my current friendships – the power-trip of having someone willing to bend backwards to please you, someone you can look down on and keep to make yourself feel better. the temporary friendships are never real, doomed to fail from the start.

its fucked up. im fucked up.

in the words of jacks mannequin, “have you ever been alone in a crowded room?”

its like everyones in on an inside joke that you just dont get, like i dont belong here (not in this friend group and not on this planet) and im just here for the convenience. and i think about whether theres too much history and mutual friends and acquaintances to just cut me out completely, as if im not worthy. i just exist among them, neither here nor there, a side character even in my own movie. existing but not participating, invisibility cloak and all with the “mute” button constantly on.

im ok – im always just ok.

“what could you possibly expect under this condition?”

at least when im here with you, the whole town feels less lonely, the water subsiding and im able to breathe; the chirps of my friends, conversations im not a part of, fading into the background and none of it fucking matters anyways.

“if youve ever been alone, youll know.”

and you do know – you know me better than i know myself and id be so completely lost without you. youve felt the same way in our universe, unheard and unseen.

so you know – and you see me, thats all that should matter.

GFY, fleur