Life

my own little world

It was around 23:40 and my feet were starting to hurt. Home was maybe a few minutes away and it was either keep going or stop. Keep going to the mad house or sit in the dark and have some peace. I chose the latter and it was so nice. I took some I’ll advised selfies (why?!) and flicked through my phone aimlessly, and eventually I put on my music. I sat there and thought about nothing. I wanted nothing more than to just remain there. It was warm outside, but there was a cool breeze that soothed my frazzled nerves. A few people passed by but it was like I was in my own little world. It was awesome and sort of depressing at the same time. I wonder what I must have looked like. 

The lonely girl sitting outside at night doing nothing. 

Hopefully, I was invisible. That’s what I was going for. 
It hit me earlier that day that I don’t have any peace. There’s always something. Mornings are hectic, afternoons are hectic, evenings are hectic. There’s never any solitude, not even when I’m sleeping because I sure as hell haven’t slept well for a long time now. Someone might call that ironic, but there’s a reason why I’m so tired all the time. I’ve grown tired of saying that I’m tired. It’s not even a physical tiredness but mental tiredness. I wake up each day and I just think, ‘here we fucking go again‘. 

The noise. Oh, the noise, and the fact that I feel like a slice of bread just before it pops out of the toaster. Hot and ready to explode. It’s the same shit every day and I am sick of it. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of saying that I’m going to do something and just failing miserably. I’m tired of failing but it’s all I seem to know how to do. There’s always an excuse, and that excuse is almost always tiredness. I’m to tired to go there. I’m too tired to do this. I don’t have the energy. I never have the energy. I’m tired of having to navigate around someone and micromanage every action just to avoid the complaints that will come anyway. I’m tired of wasting what little energy I have on other people who don’t appreciate it. 

I’m just fucking tired. 

That’s not normal, I don’t think. Not that I aspire to be normal but something is fundamentally wrong when I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t tired and I don’t know what it is. Everything is wrong and I have no idea how to get out of it. 

What I do know is that I need to find more moments of peace for myself. 

hiptobesnark.

Awkward Situations, Life

the worst part about crying

I have a new category called Angry Thoughts. It was just a matter of time. First post will be on its way. Random Thoughts is emptyyyy. I’ve been saving Bob’s stories to watch them over the weekend. Luckily, I’ve either missed some or he’s been quiet. Which is good because I think he was running out of things to post. 

Onto the worst part about crying. 

For me it’s not the act itself, but what comes with it and how it comes. 

  • Raging headache

Need I say more?

  • Puffy red eyes 

We can’t all cry prettily like they do on TV.

  • Cuts under my nose

Usually from toilet paper (damn, does it hurt!). I had to rub Vaseline on it. 

  • Crying in public

It was ridiculous and I’m not sure what happened. I started having these chest pains and I was like, ‘I DON’T NEED THIS’ because my heart was pounding really fast and I’m pretty sure my feet were swollen and I have something wrong with my leg and just, I think it was probably a panic attack. 

I know exactly why I had one, but it was awful. The worst part is that I walked past several people and they didn’t even notice. I’m invisible. Tell me something I don’t know. Eventually someone did spot that I was upset and they spoke to me and helped me calm down. That was super nice of them and I’m very grateful. 

I also spoke to my friend about it and she was helpful. I’m so used to bottling every thing up all the time that I was so discombobulated and all over the place. I work really hard at controlling my outer appearance, if you like. I’ve been told by so many people that I’m hard to read or I’m “so quiet” and that’s for a reason. If I think you’re worth talking to, then that’s it. We’re cool. If I don’t, I won’t say a word to you. Life is too short to waste energy on people who don’t deserve it. 

To cut a long story short, I woke up the next day and I was like fuck this and I blasted out New Kids On The Block while I was in the shower. It helped a lot. Boybands are my therapy. Lol!

Bitchin', Life, Social Media

Hiding away from the world

You know, I used to be that girl who talked to everyone all the time, everywhere before I got burned out. I was trying to be too many things to too many people and in the end, I ran. I ran like someone just told me that they’d seen stacks of cash in the near distance. 

I felt like I was a magnet, constantly attracting non-magnetic objects. I was friends with people, but they weren’t friends with me. I was always there for people, but they were never there for me. I was the shoulder to cry on, but all I got was elbows to the face. 

After that, the best decision was to get the fuck away. Anyone who wanted to talk to me would find a way. 

Boy, were my eyes opened.

My newfound solitude was lonely at first, but eventually, I got used to it and here I am.

Occasionally, I fall into the habit. I disappear and when I emerge I realise that so much has happened. Life changes so quickly and these days, you’ve got social media to help you keep up but on those days when I’m like fuck this there is no social media, no news, no nothing. Quite what I do on those days is a mystery to me. It’s like a vacuum in my mind where everything vanishes and I wake up three days later and I’m like, damn, where did the time go. 

I think a lot of this is down to how much we are encouraged to share about ourselves. I used to be that girl that shared every single damn thought in my head. I was an open book until I realised that the more you share of yourself, the less you have to yourself. If that makes sense. 

However, I often find myself looking at my life and I’m like, my gosh I’m boring. Eventually, I ask myself relative to who? We don’t tell people about the mundane shit we do. Like shopping, eating, drinking. Oh, wait, we do. Apparently that’s the interesting part. 

Not for me.

Even with that in mind I still find myself comparing myself to other people. That person looks so put together and I look like shit. I went to school with her and she’s got her life together while I can barely dredge up an ounce of motivation. She’s really pretty and I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backward. He’s got tons of money and I struggle to buy food.

It’s hard not to look anywhere and find some kind of way in which you’re a failure. 

Most days, I can deal with that. Life isn’t supposed to be easy. If it was it would be legal to sucker punch the next asshole who shoves past me at the train station. 

Most days, I roll my eyes and tell myself that a picture doesn’t mean shit. An article is just a snapshot. Everything is just a tiny piece of a complicated puzzle. 

Some days, though, I have to jump ship before I can drown. You know those days when a stupid picture of a Starbucks cup has you think I can’t remember the last place I even went anyway and suddenly I’m wasting my life, I’m not worthwhile, I don’t do anything for anyone, blah, blah, blah. Some days I have to avoid that and I just disappear. 

I can’t tell you what I do on those days because time tends to fly by without stopping long enough for me to take a breath. 

I haven’t worked out if that’s a good or bad thing. 

Awkward Situations, Life

Girl, can you shut up

Hello, snarklings!

You know I didn’t realise that I’d taken a blogging break until over the weekend? Sometimes I get lost in my own head and don’t realise it, but I’m back! 

Last week was relatively uneventful but this happened…


I was on my way home when I sort of crossed the road in a dodgy manner. I noticed these two guys stumbling outside of park and I was like, let me try and walk past unnoticed. 
Didn’t work. 

They gestured for me to take my headphones out (sigh…), asked me if I was alright (sigh…), asked me where I was from (sigh…). Tried to make me guess where one of them was from (final answer was ‘question mark’). 

This was all after midnight, so I’m tired, have a headache and want to go home. I’m hoping that they will go in one direction while I go in mine. 

My hope was unfulfilled. 

They say that they’ll walk me home because it’s late (oh, thank you? Where were they when I was walking home an hour later every day way back in December?).

Anyway, we start walking and one guy, the chatty one, asks me a lot of questions. The other one is quiet…bizarrely enough, he wanted my number but didn’t give me his when I said that I’d take it instead, but his friend gave me his number – but not his name? He told me to save it as Jack of Jill so I went with Rando. I think Rando said that the other guy doesn’t have a phone which explains the number malarkey. 

The number he gave me is an extra digit long as well but the upside is that there is someone out there with a picture of young!Arnold Schwarzenegger as their profile photo on WhatsApp and it’s hilarious. I have no idea if it’s one of these guys or not and I didn’t bother to find out.

Back to the story…

Oddly enough, little old quiet me wasn’t quiet for once. Oh, no, I was snarky, chatty, and I actually let them partially walk me home. The usual me would have doubled back and taken a different route just to make sure that they were gone. The usual me would not have said a word. 

However, my aversion to people tends to temporarily malfunction when I’m tired, irritated and have a headache. I was/had all three and talking to these guys actually distracted me from that. I, of course, had a bright yellow bag with me which I’m never taking out again. Clearly it will attract all sorts, lol. 

At one point, they were almost jogging to keep up with me and they continued to try and guess where I worked. The funny guy asked me why I was in a rush. Fam, it’s after midnight and I’m on my way home from work, I’m not really going to be taking my time. I’m not that big of an idiot.

Anyway, me being the introverted social anxiety sufferer that I am, I’ve now replayed it a million times in my head. The running theme of the conversation was where I worked (they would guess, I would say no). That was because I told them I was on my way back from work and also sort of mentioned the area that I worked in before I finally had a brainwave and I was like, girl can you shut up. 

How do I go from saying nothing to blabbing uncontrollably? I don’t babble at strangers. Ever. 

So I played it coy from that point on. It was nice to have someone to partially walk me home and we did have a funny conversation – I asked if they were chilling and they were like LOL NO AT THIS TIME? I just said, ‘well, you both look pretty comfortable that’s why I’m asking [as you stumbled out of the park at this unsociable hour].’ 

Maybe you had to be there, but still, it was interesting. One of them freely admitted that he was high and not making sense and I was just thinking…that explains a lot. 

However, like I said to my friend, I hope I never see them again…

  1. I am probably older than both of them.
  2. …. I’m not sure if approaching a female who’s on her own after midnight is a good thing? Is this a thing that people do outside of club areas? This was a residential area and there was no one else around. 
  3. For my own safety. My friend asked me if I was scared and I genuinely wasn’t. Maybe I should have been? LOL. 

      If you’re wondering why these guys were even interested in me at all, you’re not the only one. I looked absolutely awful.  I wasn’t wearing a single lick of make up. My hair was a mess, my face was greasy because it’s so hot. I was sweaty. I didn’t look hideous but I didn’t look special either. . 

      I guess it was just the perfect day for two strangers to show up and walk me home. 

      Bitchin', writing

      stay in your lane

      Hello, people. I am here to snark, rant, consciously uncouple my feelings, whatever you want to call it. 

      Let’s just say that this post is about writing about bees. 

      Writing about bees is common, people reading it is even more common. I could write two thousand words about bees and I’m sure everyone would love it. Bees are everywhere and anywhere and people naturally gravitate towards it. It’s popular with everybody. 
      Everyone but me. 

      See, I am not a trend follower. If I was, maybe I would have been a popular writer but I like to be different. I like to write what I would like to read. 

      Continue reading “stay in your lane”

      Life

      hit backspace and breathe easy

      Night time anxiety, y’all. 

      The worst kind. 

      Today I’m wondering why I have such a big problem replying comments. If you’ve noticed that I reply at odd times or somewhat infrequently – you’re observant. I have to be in the correct mood to reply comments otherwise it won’t happen. 

      It’s a byproduct of something that I went through years ago. There’s nothing like a group of people nitpicking every word just to belittle you or bring you down. Now, I was no shrinking violet. I held my own and defended myself but what no one tells you is that defending yourself gets exhausting after a while. It’s a lot of energy that could be used elsewhere. So eventually I just started keeping my mouth shut. The amount of time I type up comments and then hit backspace and breathe easy is crazy. 

      Anyway, when you’re opinionated, this is what happens, but still. I just want to comment without the internal monologue or second guessing myself. I’m tired of just writing lol instead of this is so great omg let me babble at you.
      Continue reading “hit backspace and breathe easy”