This week's prompt is... beginnings. I am an expert at beginnings. I love starting new projects, blog posts, falling into internet rabbit holes, starting a binge watching project like re-watching The X-Files. I am just not so good at follow through and I am terrible at finishing things.
I have been decorating my bathroom for over a month now and the only thing that is holding me back from calling it finished is hanging some shelves which I can't do because the original shelving thing I picked up was defective and I need to return it and I can't make a decision if I should buy different brackets or something else entirely. I also need to clean the rest of the paint off the floor.
For months I have been contemplating buying a new couch but every time I go shopping for one I come home defeated. I could spend a mid-size amount ($800) on one from some furniture surplus place but they didn't have the ones I like in stock. I could spend twice that ($1600) and get a quality one with a ten year warranty, pick out the fabric I want, and have it delivered in 6 months. But my brain goes, then I have to live with the couch I don't like for six more months, I will change my mind before then, and I don't really LOVE this couch it was just the deepest one they had, and $1600 could pay off two credit cards and I am in debt but I will be in debt for a few more years, does that mean I have to suffer for the next two years?
What I really want is my old couch back. My old stinky couch with my old stinky boyfriend in my old stinky apartment with my old stinky neighbors and all my old stinky cats.
I spent the majority of yesterday when it was raining and gloomy trying to sort through some old computer files and spent way too much time looking at old photos from 2018 and it turns out nostalgia is a bitch.
I don't really want the apartment back. I just want a time machine so I can have a do-over. I wouldn't buy this house. I like this house but I wasn't gaga over it. It was the nicest one in my budget I had looked at so far. I was too worried about wasting everyone's time. If I had a do-over, I would hold out for a house that made me swoon. I settled for this one and I have been doing what I can to make it cozy and mine, but I also feel trapped by financial constraints. I am doing what I can for now with paint and rugs. I tell myself five years, five years to get out of debt and save up money to either find a different house or remodel this one.
There's also asking for help. What I really need is a boyfriend with a truck who is handy with things around the house. Can I put that on a dating profile? "I am just using you has a handyman. Will give half-hearted blowjobs in return." I have not been dating, but am half-vaccinated now so it feels like by summer I should start looking. I don't know if I have the mental energy for dating right now. I really only have the ability to focus on one major life goal at a time and right now couch drama is soaking all that up. Progress: I just texted my dad to ask if I found a used couch online if he would help with picking it up. That would save me a few hundred dollars because all these people buying new furniture are getting rid of their used stuff and I've seen some decent looking ones on marketplace.
I have been ordering books and workbooks on intuitive eating and that should really be my focus. Maybe that could be my week day blogs. I don't want to get into it too much now because it is really a can of worms. And this has gone on long enough about nothing, just wasting away another weekend day.
Have I been avoiding the actual subject? Yes, thank you ADHD. The prompt is about can you think of a time that a tragedy sparked a beautiful new beginning or reminisce about the beginning of a beautiful relationship. In my head, the way my brain sorts my life into chapters or volumes of potential memoirs, my twenties and thirties were about trying to find love and messing it all up with drinking and love addiction and finally finding it when I gained a little confidence/self-love which happened when I lost weight. Happy ending right? Except then I gained weight back and the relationship didn't actually fulfill me, although it was nice to have a companion and then I started feeling like maybe it just wasn't the right guy, maybe I do have options, then I became restless and conflicted, drove him away, decided to be independent and stop waiting for a man to take the lead and bought my own damn house. So we are at the beginning of the second memoir wherein the heroine learns that she needs to make her own happiness and accept herself. And she tries to get the same guy back but he won't answer her texts or DMs or snail mail and while she has contemplated parking outside his apartment building she realizes that might be considered stalking and remembers how creepy it was when someone she had broken things off with would drive to her house uninvited.
I mean for crying out loud, we've been broken up almost as long as we were together. Let's blame the pandemic for freezing time because it feels like 2020 never happened. I should have spent the last year actually writing that first memoir which I have been thinking about for years but it feels like that era finally just ended so I should be ready now but also not ready to re-live all of that, although the memories have started to fade. Might be good therapy, not for publication or even consumption by others, but just a record that states I saw, I came, I drank it all.
Maybe I should finally call the insurance hotline to see about getting that ADHD diagnosis finally so maybe I can get some legitimate medication that will help me focus. There's a beginning that I've been procrastinating on. If I procrastinate, it's because I'm afraid of rejection or hearing the word now. I'm afraid they will say, you don't have it, you're just fat and lazy and a bad person with no self-control, how dare you look for an excuse!
***
So I have actually proofread this post because I have been making a lot of silly typos lately and sometimes I clean up redundancies. But I have to say that if I step back and listen to myself as though I am a third party, it seems that one of my major blocks in life is fear of settling and fear of rejection. Probably related, because I settle for things in order to prevent rejection. Is it okay to want the best? To want to be happy with my furniture, my house, my bed companion? What is settling costing me? What would rejection cost me? Can I just be happy and grateful for what I have and what is in this moment or should I strive for improvement of myself and my surroundings?
That'll be $105, please.
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