Back in March was my 20th anniversary of being a Suicidegirl. I wanted to take a mini photoset of myself for a sort of now and then but life happened and time got away with me, as time and life have a tendency to do. When I was small an hour felt like eons. But now that I am old a year feels like a nanosecond. Time is a funny thing like that.
There's also the matter of my eroding self confidence, which has never been stellar to begin with. I've always been the rebellious sort but can't seem to rebel enough to love myself for who I am, because self love is the ultimate act of rebellion.
I was gifted a second hand desk top computer from my mother several months ago and only managed to find time today to set it up. It's a strange and nostalgic feeling, typing this blog entry on a standard sort of keyboard and sitting at a desk. It is so wonderfully and wholly familiar. For a moment, I am young again.
How have I been?
I've been ok. I'm still recovering from a long relationship with an emotionally damaged, philandering, manipulative and yet altogether beautiful and wrecked person. It's been a year and nine months since I ended things and I fear I will remain this warped and muted version of myself. Although occasionally I suddenly remember something about my old self and have simple moments of a quiet "eureka".
I'm still bartending and taking care of horses. And of course I'm still raising hell whenever I get the chance. I don't feel like I'm 42.
