Things I learned during a rough week.

Here’s the thing about meltdowns: I don’t actually like having them, nor do I think they’re entirely necessary. Still, the one bright side of an episode is that it’s a little like when your skin purges: pushes out the gunk so that what remains gets better.

This last meltdown pushed out a lot of gunk, but in doing that, it’s helped uncover some lessons that hopefully make things better in the future.

So, without further ado, here’s a quick brain-dump of the things I’ve learned from my rough week.

  • Fear, not anger, is the most dangerous emotion.
  • There are many different flavors of commitment- and intimacy-phobia.
  • Friendship isn’t a favor.
  • Hurting each other is inevitable. It’s the choices made after the hurt that make the difference.
  • You can’t see people in black and white. Especially yourself.
  • Sometimes there’s no villain in the story. Sometimes it’s just two broken people trying to love each other the best they can.
  • You don’t fix things by throwing them away.
  • You are allowed to hold people accountable for leaving. They will hold you accountable for leaving too.
  • You really can’t love anyone properly if you don’t love yourself. Self-loathing will poison everything. Self-loathing will make you lash out, believing all the while you’re doing people a favor when really you’re hurting them. Self-loathing causes self-destruction, but when you destroy yourself the people around you will be caught in the “splash zone” as collateral damage.
  • Get help. Don’t be ashamed to. We’re all burdened people carrying each other’s burdens. Get help.

~ Actually Frankie

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Random Life/Blog Update: stuff to look forward(???) to.

Hey guys! 

Sorry if I’ve been radio silent (other than some rather unstable-sounding updates) for the past few weeks! I’ve been thinking about how to make this blog more fun/have more stuff to talk about.

At any rate, it’s been a while since I’ve done a consumer review, so I figure I’ll start posting tiny reviews and things here, when I remember to do so. In terms of what to look forward to, I’ve got:

Sooper Beaute Haul + Review: My officemates convinced me to try this local brand called Sooper Beaute, particularly the serums. My friend Nikka says to use up a whole bottle before saying anything, and since the serums are quite small, she said I’d be done with them over a month, considering daily use. I’ll be trying out the Hydrating Hyaluronic Acid Serum + Vitamin C first, over the month, and giving my thoughts.

Zaful Haul and Thoughts: I’ve known about Zaful for a while, but it was an ASMR video + a couple of well-timed display ads (those things actually work, guys) that convinced me to buy. Originally, my cart had a record seven items, but I figured it was better to test them out first before ordering further items. 

My first Zaful order.

I picked up two basic sweaters that looked quite promising, and the coat that the ASMRtist (Be Calm With Becca, in case you were wondering) kept raving about. If these turn out well, I’ve my eye on the rest of the colors of the sweater/mock-turtleneck tops (a cherry red and a goldenrod yellow), as well as two fuzzy cropped hoodies and a vintage-inspired fleece-lined denim jacket.

…Probably not all at once, though. The site charges dollars, and also I need to purge my wardrobe.

South Korea in Snippets: I’ve no longer the patience or even energy for long travelogues, so I figured, once I shut down my attempt at a “Tumblr-Finsta,” that I’d share photos and random stories from my trip here, sort of like a scrapbook. Would that be interesting, you think, or would it be better to do a traditional travelogue? IDK.

Anyway, those are my updates. See you all soon!

~ Actually Frankie

Erasure

“Yeah, foot in your fucking mouth.”

You’ve done this before. You know how it goes.

First, you take out your music device. It’s always a different one, but they more or less work the same: play, rewind, skip, pause, delete. That’s the important one. Go down the line, hitting that button on every one of the songs they ever sent you. The ones they taught you to love. The ones that, no matter how hard you try, will remind you of them.

Eurobeat. John Mayer. This time around, it’s BTS. It should be harder than this, but self-loathing trumps even fandom. Click. One year’s worth of playlists, gone in a minute. Easy as breathing.

Deep breath.

Next are the messages. Set their account to ignore if you think there’s still hope. After that last message, probably not, but you don’t hit block until you’re sure they’ve forgotten you, because calling attention to what you’re doing is sure to bring down a wave of anger that’ll only make it worse. Disappearing is a balancing act. Walking away is a dance: watch your step, find your footing.

You’d do the same with your Facebook friend lists, but you’ve deactivated Facebook this time around, set it to come back online in a week. Maybe in a week it’ll be easier. Maybe in a week you’ll get to the unfollows too: Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr if they still have one. No need to block: the unfollow is enough. Out of sight, out of mind.

You changed phones a while ago, so you don’t have their number. If you did, you’d delete that too, along with any last texts they sent you.

You don’t go as far as clearing out gifts. One day, you’ll be able to look back on all this and smile, though it’ll be a while before that happens. When the day comes, you’ll need the physical reminders, even as you clear out all the digital detritus that comes with loving someone enough to be able to hurt them.

You’re very good at that. Hurting them. It’s the only thing you’re better at than this. And what is this?

This is inevitable. You always know it is, even if you pretend you don’t. Even if you believe things last forever. Nothing does. Eventually, you say something, or do something, or simply drain people dry with the problematic mess of you, and you sense it. It. The sea change.

They’re leaving.

So you leave before they do. You bow out of place. You erase the traces you can bear to erase. Photos. Fandoms. Favorite colors. Inside jokes. I’m sorry-s that came too late.

“Yeah, foot in your fucking mouth.”

Might as well read, “I hate you.”

I know you do. I understand. I’ll go now.

I always do.