12.01.2018

 

  • Wednesday was stressful. After work, I went to H Mart because I impulse shop when I am upset and I bought snacks and a milk tea latte. I remember crying on the drive home. My only comfort that day was drinking the milk tea in bed. The rest of the week was better.

 

  • Rachel McKibbens’ “letter from my heart to my brain” is a poem I’ve been thinking about. That poem is everything I have felt over the past two years when I was in an abusive relationship, but I didn’t know it at the time. It was easier to tell myself I deserved it. There are so many harmful thoughts about myself that I’m trying to unlearn.

 

  • It’s okay to lock yourself in the medicine cabinet, to drink all the wine, to do what it takes to stay without staying.

 

  • I can’t say it, but one person knows and he didn’t think I was stupid for doing what I did that night. He just told me that all this was going to take time, that I was going to be okay and I believed him. I mean, and I don’t trust anyone these days.

 

  • My mother’s homemade hot chocolate is one of my favorite things about the holidays. She makes it the Peruvian way and the taste brings me back to my childhood. Which is just a cliche way of saying I feel joy in that moment. Nothing but joy.

 

  • Show: The Sinner
    Book: Maryse Meijer’s Northwood
    Song: A Perfect Circle – Thomas
    Film: When Animals Dream

 

  • On my morning walks on the weekends, I am alone. This is important to my sanity. I put my headphones in and notice the colors of the dead leaves beneath my feet, the sunlight on water. I wear the bomber jacket my ex returned to me, the one I spent $500 on as a gift. I don’t call it “his” anymore. It’s mine, which feels good to say. On the back there is a drawing of a skeleton man walking his dog. It keeps me so warm.

 

  • Money, I guess? I’m earning it now after a five-month lull of unemployment, and every now and then I treat myself to beautiful things. I deserve this, and I don’t have to remind myself of that.