Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 2 of 2)

December 9

December 9

I'm writing this from under the covers on my couch. And by covers, I mean a Pendleton blanket covering up the patches of missing leather on this piece of shit sofa.

After two and a half years, tonight is my last night at the Witch Cave. I – I really don't know what to write. How do I sum up those two and a half years into a single journal entry? It's almost impossible. That's not to say those years were the be all and end all of my development into adulthood, but I still moved here at 23. Now, I'm moving out at 26. I've probably experienced the darkest periods of my life in this space. This couch alone holds more memories than I can remember. I've cried on this couch. I've been intimate on this couch. I've been under the influence of so many drugs on this couch. I had my first of many panic attacks on this couch. I have wasted so much time on this goddamn fucking couch.

I don't want to view this move as a failure. If it were a failure, what would I have failed? How can you fail at something you never set out to accomplish in the first place? If anything, I choose to view my move home as the biggest step forward I have taken since I moved out in the first place. I am finally looking at my life in regard to what will make me happy – as opposed to what will fill my time and make me money. The same money I spend all of my time working for, only to live in a space that depresses me.

There's no argument that the Witch Cave plays host to a lot of negative energy. Still, I can't help but think about all of the great memories I have had in this space. Everyone keeps asking me if I am sad about moving. With absolute certainty, I can say that I am not the least bit upset. Even saying that, and knowing it's true, it's a strange feeling for me. I always seem to carry a sense of guilt or regret in so many areas of my life. I don't want to say it's too early to tell – that wouldn't be maintaining positive thoughts and energy – but I haven't experienced those emotions with this decision.

I look around this apartment. I have fond memories. I'm ready to move on, though. I don't want to be here anymore. Although I do hold those sentiments, I know that this space has served its purpose. I was meant to live here. That's why I don't view this transition as a failure. I learned more about myself, what I want in life, and what I want from those in my life. Now that I've become aware of that purpose, it's time to take the next step forward. A part of me will miss this. I find it difficult to get wrapped up in the nostalgia, though. I already have one foot out the door.

Today was pretty relaxed. Big Bird was distracted for the better part of the morning, which gave me a solid two hours to work on my Lord of the Rings article for Amphitheatre. After some Clubhouse work, Big Bird went into a meeting and I took to Craigslist to post furniture for sale.

I often wonder how I manage to make things happen. Particularly this morning, when I woke up past my alarm because I am getting sick – fuck – and then proceeded to make my lunch, peel pomegranates, strip and thoroughly clean my mattress to remove the stains of blacked out nights' past, and get it ready to be sold.

I left work around 4 p.m. After walking home in the ice-cold temperatures of this frozen wasteland we call home, I collapsed at my apartment. I am so fucking tired. I know there is so much to do, though. I have to keep pushing on! Tomorrow is such a big day for me. I am so excited about it. I'm also going to get new hair.

While eating dinner, I began working on my Amphitheatre article. This shit is hard! Well, it's not so much hard, as it is tedious. I want to do a great job on this thing, so I am over-analyzing more than usual. What I really needed tonight was a glass of wine. Maybe I'll have a drink while writing tomorrow. It makes me funnier, I think. Then again, everyone thinks they're funnier when they drink. We'll see what Amphitheatre says.

Tonight's work resulted in me writing six of the 15 interesting facts – with sources – for the article. That still leaves a lengthy editing job and a three-paragraph introduction. Yikes. I can do it. It's just annoying that it took so much longer than anticipated. I do enjoy the writing, though. Sometimes my best work shines through during edits, so let's hope it gets even better.

Writing was about all I did tonight. I talked to Colin throughout the day, but hardly thought of him before he messaged me at lunch. I was so wrapped up in my personal work at the office. Is that a good thing? Honestly, it's still so crazy to me how time can go by so quickly when you are enjoying what you're doing. Yet another sign that the decisions I have made are the right ones.

It's 1:30 a.m. right now. I am dying out. Especially because I know my move starts at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning.

I can't stop keep thinking about how things in life happen for a reason. Even something – or someone – as stupid as Nate Presley coming into my life and introducing me to The Lord of the Rings two years ago. Without him, I never would have given Gollum a shot. I also wouldn't have such an extensive wardrobe, but that's another topic for another time.

One last thing. I had an interesting conversation with Nicolas Fraser – one of RX's best friends – on Facebook this afternoon. As usual, the discussion started off with our mutual love of Mariah Carey. After a while, the chat slowly morphed itself into a strange discussion about the flakiness that is RX. Yeah. It was very odd. Nicolas was speaking quite candidly, too. If I'm being honest, it got to the point where he was sort of being a bad friend to RX. Obviously, I loved it. Some of the things Nicolas said made me think that perhaps the flakiness and despondency I've experienced with RX isn't unique to me. Of course, I react to it very differently given our history – Nicolas agrees that is a natural reaction on my part – but it's interesting to hear nonetheless.

I was under the impression that Nicolas and RX were very close friends. Apparently, that's not the case. Nicolas said he has seen more of me this year than he has RX. I also listened to Nicolas's theory that RX only reached out to him recently, because he saw me post a "Good Mornting" photo on his Facebook timeline. Interesting. And definitely an added bonus for me! I really didn't think that my digital spamming would lead to the annoyance of my ex-boyfriend. Then again, I often give RX too much credit. I truly do not believe that he is clever enough for such tomfoolery. RX is not aware of anyone but himself.

How do I feel about RX right now? I would like to slap him across the face. That being said, I thought I saw him in a store today and almost shit my pants. So, who the hell knows? Why am I still writing so much about RX five years after our break-up? It's lunacy!

I'm tired. I'm sick. I am ready for a great day tomorrow.

Thank you for everything this Witch Cave experience has taught me. It's been a moment for sure.

"We go through a moment, and we come out on the other side!"

— Mariah Carey

Goodnight xo