welcome to the liv files

racing thoughts, anxiety, and a minor hangover. a remnant of last nights wine. just something to take the edge off and help put me to sleep. curing insomnia with sauvignon blanc, just what the doctor ordered. lately it’s been exhausting just to get through the day. and it doesn’t help that every day i get a reminder that i’m not good enough. no literally, i just had to go to a whole meeting to explain why i was doing such a bad job at something. god forbid a girl wants to focus on school and can really only handle one thing at a time. this sent me down an all too familiar spiral of feeling like a failure. a lazy disappointment. i hate that i have to focus so hard to get things done and that i let things slip through the cracks. i always wanted to be, and thought i could be, someone who could handle her sh*t and juggle all my passions and interests even if those interests come with responsibilities. maybe one day i’ll be that girl. but right now i have homework to do.

everything was just getting to be too much, and with the tears rushing down my face to no end, i had no choice but to call my mommy. the best person to call when i need someone to make me feel better and tell me i’m smart and perfect and and a genius with the soul of an angel. even though she was a thousand miles away i fell over from the sense she knocked into me.

what are you gonna do when something real happens?

well…that’s a pretty good point. but it all feels so hard and i’m tired of feeling like i’m not good enough. “you have friends! you have ur family! a beautiful apartment! live in the moment!!!” another great point. once again i have proven myself to be a debbie downer with fake problems. my mom knows better than anyone else i have a tendency to spiral in on myself. calling myself a prisoner while laying the bricks that trap me. that’s not a very practical way to live. and that’s not to say that my problems don’t matter, especially when it’s something chronic and real like my mental health, but acting like they’re completely unmanageable, inescapable, and everything’s fucked? well that’s just childish.

my mother and i came to a compromise. it’s okay to feel out your feelings, cry, ask your best friend for a hug, as long as you put those feelings into perspective and take action after the tears have stopped falling.

pre crash out, the hair sort of gives away my mental state

i’ve always lived in my bedroom. well obviously, but in the sense that i didn’t get out much in high school and spent most of my time in my room. i put hours of tender care into making my room somewhere special. adorning my walls with inspiring pages from magazines and lining my shelves with books, trinkets, anything special with a story. a beautiful cave in which i could hide or escape into a world of my own. when there’s fun posters on the wall, a cave isn’t such a bad place to hide. that’s the way i live. injecting beauty into every facet of my life. i love to decorate. decorating my room, decorating myself with clothes, and now decorating another website with my own work. the liv files is my online bedroom. a place to call my own where i don’t have to pretend, i don’t have to compare myself and feel like i’m not doing enough, a diversion to prevent the little problems from turning into a hurricane, and a beautiful place that i can love every inch—or pixel i guess—of.

i could pretend to be this completely self assured, ultra confident girl who doesn’t have time to care about insecurities and tells anyone who doesn’t like her to f*ck off. i want to be her, but for now i am simply me. mulling over insecurities has taken up a great chunk of my precious time over the past couple weeks. this would make the hundred and twelfth leaf i’ve turned over when it comes to telling myself that i’m giving up insecurities. but it’s different this time…now i have the liv files. instead of lying to myself or forcing my brain to flip a switch, i’m going to be gentle. i’m not going to be afraid of insecurities. what’s a creator if they can’t question themselves? assess the insecurity, determine if it’s rooted in logic or anxiety, find room for improvement. when i feel lost in the mist of insecurity, the liv files is the one places i’ll always be good enough—i’m the only one here. but i do love visitors (pls subscribe).

if the curse i bear, my biggest problem is to be a prisoner of my own mind…well then i might as well make it a fun place to liv. that was cheesy. f*ck off it’s my world.

xoxo