Epilogue

The end of an era, the beginning of an epoch.

Today is officially Initiative 116; I’ve not blogged for 3 weeks.

Between my last post and this, so much has dented my soul. I’ve been putting off this post for a long time, searching, scraping for the words to describe how I feel.

But I no longer feel. Sleepless nights, the inability to  grieve, the inescapable duty of holding up to responsibilities keep me somewhat cold, cynical, and overly caffeinated.  I’ve alienated and abandoned people and projects that really matter, in hope that they don’t ask or question because this road is ultimately mine. Every now and then I venture outside my protective electrical fence but that world is far from where I want to be now.

One of my dearest and oldest friends ended her life on October 21st. One of the most intelligent girls I’ve ever met, we lost touch after I transferred to a different school but reconnected through the death of a mutual friend, ironically enough. She was 5 weeks pregnant.

At first I pushed her death away, thinking it was a hoax of some kind. She had emailed me only the day before to congratulate me on my performance that weekend and I peruse that email everyday now, searching for a hint of some kind, as if I could have done something to prevent this. If only. This makes the 5th person close to me who has passed away in the 2 years I’ve been in the States.

All the funerals that I’ve not been able to attend.

You wouldn’t believe the extent of which I’m berating myself right now. For even wanting to venture outside of home, on moving to the other side of the world. For what?

I came all the way here only to realize that what I really needed and wanted all long was home.

All the people who truly matter to me are not here and while I’ve established new circles, friendships, and traditions for myself here, my heart yearns to be home. Disclaimer US friends: It’s not that I don’t love you! I’m a long term kind of friend, as much as I try to, I don’t warm up to people very easily.

There is nothing more important to me than the people I love and care for; not being able to be there for them. Kills.

Funeral Composition III by Yannis Moralis, Photo taken by Tilemahos Efthimiadis

For a while I buried my grief in classes, took long night walks and worked on storing the memories of us. I’ve been trying to physically run away from the truth that I’ve been an awful friend of late. Nursing insomnia at night added to my glazed need for caffeine and the vicious cycle of barely sleeping 3 hours a night began.

I’ve refused to blog or ‘talk about it’ as my imbecile of a therapist says, I’ve ended relationships that have added to sudden bursts of sobs and mild depression, and pretty much forgotten about the state of my kitchen. I’ve danced everyday since, somehow hoping that by physically draining myself I won’t have the energy to ponder my apparent failure at being human.

I’m very proficient now at hiding how I feel.

I don’t think I understood what I was feeling, and I still don’t. Forgive me, I’m young and naive and at heart, a kid who’s still trying to make sense of this world. This mixture of disbelief, cynicism, guilt, I have yet the tools to deal with and I keep thinking about the fetus, the baby-to-be. My love for children in all forms doesn’t help. Really.

I’m getting there. Bit by bit. Somehow, doing one thing a day that scares me now has become a comforting sort of routine; knowing that I’ll feel little pain and fear for much satisfaction and celebration later is actually quite..a relief.

The first post..The kick off party…all the memories. Sigh.

Right now, I’m facing my biggest fear; to come to terms with death and its’ inevitability.

Yesterday I slept from 10pm to 1pm. Missed a bunch of classes, unusual for even my eracticness. My brain regained some clarity though And direction. And today, I woke up out of seemingly nowhere at 3am and cried. I cried and cried and cried.

OH GOD THAT FELT SO GOOD. I’ve not had cries like that in a while, the kind you just heave out of you.

All this while, I’ve been rethinking my blog too and the direction I want to take it to.  My blog is but one tiny facet of me and who I am.  And while Initiative180 has been somewhat of a chore, somewhat of a distraction, but always my pillar of strength in last 3 weeks, this blog no longer meets my needs.

Colin wrote a great article on blogging about living life versus writing about it; I’m expanding on that to include sincerity.

If I continue writing in the style that I’ve set previously for this blog, I will have less time for life and my friends and my fears and my Dance. I would no longer be true to myself ( as cliched as this sounds..) and I’d start losing respect for myself for compromising on integrity. For being an insincere bitch of a blogger.

I don’t want to write like that and I’m sure you don’t want to read crap like that, there’s enough Internet litter-ature.

I blog because I want my writing to live in a shared space and this particular medium.

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection.”

Yes, I’ve been reading a lot of Anais Nin lately and the quote from one of her journals seriously jumped at me like a mtffing cow.  I blog to taste life 3 times really; once in the moment, once in retrospection, and once in someone else’s perspective.

This pivotal time in my life needs to be honored with the decision to do what’s best for me. To change things for the better and not hold on desperately to the relics of the beautiful past I created.

Tuesday will be my last post – Initiative#120 and I will list (wait for it!!!) all the things that I’ve done so far, hopefully with pictures begged from unscrupulous sources For those of you who still want read about me ( gosh really??? aww ), I will post the url of my personal blog on Tuesday too. It’s nothing fancy but it’s very me.

Today’s challenge is facing change and accepting it. I hope you’re reading this Ching, this is for you.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone and thank you, thank you thank you for reading this.