Should I start with an introduction? I imagine one would want to know at least a little about the person whose ramblings they're reading. I suppose I can start with the basics. My name is Amanda. I was born in Raleigh, North Carolina, raised in Willow Spring, NC, and after graduating high school I moved to Emerald Isle, a tiny sandbar that makes up part of the Southern Outer Banks. Here I find myself, aged 27 and living in Springfield, Missouri. It's kind of a long story, how I ended up here. Though isn't that what blogging's for? Personally, I'm still unsure.
Personality-wise, I'm reserved. I'm much more eloquent in writing. Awkward in conversation, at best. I prefer listening to other people talk among themselves over adding my input, a fly on the wall, if you will. I'm an INFP-type, to explain my temperament better. I like making digital art and at one point aspired to become an animator. Lethargy is one hell of a demon to overcome, though.
Here, have a thing I did recently:
I love pirates. Don't judge me.
"So what brings you to Missouri?" I'm frequently asked by unknowing customers when I finally admit to my vague knowledge of the area. It's still a difficult question to answer, which I don't think it will ever be easy for me to. I try to skirt it with a vague response. Something not unlike, "Change of scenery," or "Better job market." Which I can immediately see their call of "bullshit" written on their faces. Some have been wily and persistent enough to weasel more of the truth out of me. But it's a truth I hate to admit to someone I've just met. Especially when it's my duty to make every second of their experience pleasant. No one wants to hear some sob story right off the bat.
In fact, it's a story that to this day few ears have heard. At first when I tried to talk about it, I could see my listener's eyes all but glaze over. And not too long after I started feeling shame for what had happened, so I stopped trying to make my story heard. I'm silent about everything else, so why not this as well?
Anyway. I'm not expecting anyone to have read this far, or to read much further, so here I go. I'm casting my tale like a letter in a bottle out to the vast oceans of the internet.
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November 2013. I moved here with my boyfriend at the time. We'd been together going on four years, having lived together for 98% of that time. We went through a rough patch the weeks following up to the move, which resulted in me leaving. One can only take so much verbal and emotional abuse. Somehow though, we got back together and with all better judgment thrown to the wind, I made the move here. Where things inevitably got worse between us.
Without too many details, I found what little confidence I had being whittled away. To this day I'm still struggling to rebuild that confidence which pales in comparison to the vibrant girl I once was. I think most of my shame comes from the fact that I should have known better. It was just all too predictable. When I spoke with a social worker at the career center during the great job hunt, even she picked up on my situation intuitively. She gave me her business card and very seriously told me to not hesitate to contact her if things weren't okay at home. It took all I had to not start crying then and there. I'm deeply affected by an gesture of kindness towards me, especially from a woman who has only known me for five minutes.
Another thing about me is I am stubborn to a fault. I couldn't, and would not, ask for help. So I made a goal to be on my own by my birthday, despite not knowing anyone or knowing the layout of the land at all. I was able to accomplish it, though. And that alone helped boost my confidence a little. That was a year and a half ago, and although I try to put the past behind me, I still find myself lingering on some pretty dark moments from time to time.
This year has seen me overcome alcoholism, and hopefully soon the depression that comes along with it. I can only hope that I keep pushing myself forward and that soon I can glean the lesson from my experience and finally be at peace with myself.
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That was the abridged version, but I thank you for reading it nonetheless. Perhaps I'll be able to make this thing (blogging, that is) more of a habit in the future, because I admit that I feel a little bit better, just having purged a portion of what was on my mind.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done. Nothing you can sing that can't be sung. Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game, it's easy. There's nothing you can make that can't be made. No one you can save that can't be saved. Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time, it's easy! All you need is love, love. Love is all you need.
—The Beatles
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