Nobody puts baillee in the corner

How do you completely move on? How do you finally convince yourself you cannot keep doing what you’re currently doing? (And if you do, they’ll be sending Nurse Ratched for you shortly.) How do you make yourself believe the potential doesn’t equate to the reality? I don’t know either, but that’s what I’m trying to figure out. 

For someone who has a dark and peculiar sense of humor, an obsession with horror movies, and comes alive in October, I’m actually a glass half full kind of girl. I always want to find the good in people and situations, and it’s my cross to bear. It’s caused me more heartbreak and grief than I care to admit (mostly because I just put on my eyeliner, and I refuse to let some jackholes from my past ruin my cat eyes, a thank you). I tend to dwell on the 2% of good instead of seeing the 98% of bad; thus, it takes me way longer than the average bear (shout out to the one person who still remembers the Yogi Bear before Justin Timberlake) to understand that sometimes, the bad outweighs the good. It can’t all be Carly Rae Jepsen. You have to throw in some Fiona Apple too in order to appreciate CRJ and vice versa. Sometimes, you have to escape in your mom’s minivan a la Gabriella in High School Musical 2. Sometimes, you even have to let the cynic inside win out for your own sanity.  

You can’t keep avoiding the inevitable by, say, making fall playlists and dying your hair (although channeling your feels into productive tasks definitely shows a great deal of emotional growth, so kudos). You can’t keep reminiscing about the handful of amazing things while all of the negative things close in around you. You can’t keep blaring Jack Johnson’s “Sitting, Waiting, Wishing” (partially because you’ll get a never-ending hankering for pancakes), hoping something will eventually give. You’re going to have to realize the text message (which makes me sound 87 but just “text” made me sound 14) or phone call you’re waiting for is not going to come. You have to make yourself see the glass for what it truly is: non-existent. (Appreciations to everyone who chuckled during the previous sentence because my serious revelation made them think of that one iconic scene from She’s the Man, including myself). 

How do you successfully escape purgatory, my dear readers? I don’t know either, so here’s hoping for a white light sooner rather than later.