Friday, March 8, 2013
Dreamweaver. I may need one of those.
Before blogs were a thing I used to write in my journal. I started at the age of 8 and currently, I have 15 completed journals filled with my sorrow, angst, excitement and dreams. I stopped writing in my journal awhile ago. I tried to write in it leading up to my wedding but it didn't last. I tried to keep a honeymoon journal in Thailand and that did not work out either. I don't know why I cannot seem to will myself to do the thing I love most: Write.
It may be that the rejections I last wrote about are starting to weigh on me. The constant feeling that I missed the boat in really getting anywhere big and the realization that has come with losing my job at the magazine that people no longer find me as interesting as they once did. I do not have the free concert tickets anymore or the cover stories or the "in" to the parties in Salt Lake. I do not have VIP seating and I do not get to hang out with rockstars. I miss those things very much. But the realization that I was only liked for those things is harder to deal with than the loss of the "ins."
Lately, it has occurred to me that maybe my efforts to keep some friendships alive are more hurtful to me than they are beneficial. I was never famous, not even a little bit, but I did experience being known in the community. And I am experiencing learning who my real friends are. I am also experiencing a sense of sadness and loss by the relationships that I had built and thought would last longer than they have. I feel like sometimes living in Salt Lake is like being in high school all over again. I was never cool in high school. I was kind of cool for a minute here in Salt Lake. But now, I am no longer in the cool kids club and I am feeling that.
It kind of sucks. But maybe this is the time that I stop longing for what I had and pay attention to what is around me. I have some amazing real friends who I trust. That is much more important than have a huge group of superficial friends who only want to be around me because of what I might be able to do for them.
To the real friends out there, you know who you are and thank you. Thanks for loving me for the weird, super annoying planner person that I am who over analyzes everything and never feels good enough. Thank you for being a support during a crazy year and half of ups and downs.
Time to hold my head up again and try to find my new dream. Maybe write in my journal again and listen to Conor Oberst over and over until I figure it out. Time to go back to being the weird kid. I think I am alright with that. I just wish I could get all those piercings back and still be considered professional!
A new tattoo it is.