Sydney Wonder

Yet all at once, I began to feel so very sad.

Sad enough to turn back to this sad blog of mine.

Twas probably just hormones.

I am definitely too much of a mess to let anyone into my life right now.

There are so many changes I need to make to myself. I’ve got to be more disciplined. More resilient. More proactive. I must work harder. Honor my responsibilities. Stop letting people down. Stop whining. Bear the weight quietly. I’ve got to unleash my inner power. I am too easily overwhelmed. I shut down. I shut people out. I’m full of fear. My own ideas intimidate and paralyze me. I am lazy. I am messy. I can’t seem to get a grip. I think too much and do too little. I want to be more active. I want to get back in shape. There’s so so so so so much that I need to do. The state of my life is an embarrassment.

I am in no acceptable shape or condition to let anybody into my life and see what it’s really like in here. But that’s what happens when guys come poking around. They want to know you and spend your time. They want to talk to you and tour your mind. They steal kisses. They steal feelings. They steal mental real estate.

I want to be in control. I want to be better. I’m still a work in progress. I’m still so far away. I am not ready yet.

What are you
In your brain
Talking about
While your body
Idles, comatose
From the numbing substances
You ingested
While in your mind
You told yourself
“No, no
Let’s get back
To work”


I’m at a loss for words about how deeply and beautifully blessed I am. How can I deserve such indescribably lovely people in my life? My mom, who gives and serves endlessly. My dad, who radiates love and support into me. My sister, who helps me return into the body of a smiling person, when my existence has almost completely faded away. Cindy, who reaches into my abyss and says, “Let’s get you out of here.” Brett, who understands. Sara, who feels like a true friend. Fraser, who shares opportunities, knowledge, and grace with me. Stettner, whose lessons expand my perspective and fill me with joy. Alex, who trusts and empowers me. Smaranda, whose beauty and warmth inspire me. Chris, who always welcomes me. Jon, who cares to text me often. Nicky, who felt my pain and gave her time to save me. Anthony, who gives the world everything and never asks for anything. Inje, who always brings me calm and happiness. Tito, who encourages my art. Dan, who gives me priceless secrets to success. Kiran, who is a wonderful friend. And especially my readers, who enliven my life’s purpose when they show me my writing resonates with them.

The pain in my heart was more than I understood, poisoning me slowly while death stared at me like a hungry vulture. Suffering sits upon my life like heavy black smoke, stinging my lungs, suffocating me. I can not die to this. I can not suffer anymore. I just want to be happy. I have to get out.

If you are looking back and reading this, understand that I did not want to miss the opportunities I missed. I did not want to lose the time I lost. It’s just there was no way to spend the time, that seemed any more enticing than laying playing dead. I wished there was. There wasn’t.

Depression feels very similar to actual death. It wasn’t your fault. But getting out, is on you.

I know that I will survive.

But the honest truth is, I don’t want to.

I just have no choice, but to.

An image has been haunting me for weeks. It comes by often. In my mind’s eye, my head slams down onto the desk or surface in front of me. I drive a large kitchen knife into the back of my skull repeatedly, with the force of a machine gun.

Images like this have haunted me before. From back in reality, they are disturbing. But from inside, the images don’t feel scary. They feel like relief.

Over time, we come to understand that as people get older, they often grow safer, more fearful. They learn to build walls, to protect and censor themselves, to avert risk.

When you ask very old people for advice, they tell you things like, “Live; travel; keep your heart open; go for everything while you can.” They say they regret missing out on so much, by becoming self-preservative and afraid. And because we’re still young, we think, “Of course I will. Of course I will live with my heart open wide, ready to drink in all the life and opportunities I possibly can. I may grow physically old, but my spirit never will grow old or haggard or tired or scared.”

But then we live. We find our decisions lead us to real places and real consequences that actually decide our lives. We live long enough to look back and find hundreds of ways we could have had a better life if maybe we’d been safer, weighed risks better, protected ourselves from some people. Becoming safer seems to be the “right” thing to do, in order to grow up and improve. Life forces us to make sacrifices and trade-offs. Responsibilities become a reality. Acting impulsive and free don’t always work out for the best.

So we try to make better decisions. We try to think before we speak and act. We build some walls and try to become smarter with our hearts. We are all just trying our best. Then, before we know it, we’ve grown adult, and safe. Isn’t that what we were supposed to do?

So what, then, are the very old and wise really telling us?

Something has been weighing on my mind for several weeks now, and it is the idea of how youth and beauty relate to how people treat you. What happens when a woman’s youth and beauty fade? In my research, it seems that women go through a unsettling experience of growing “invisible” to others as they grow older. It can be felt subtly at first, toward the late 20s/early 30s, but it soon comes to a full realization. It’s seems like a challenging shift to go through in life. I’ve been pretty aware of my mortality, but now I feel even more keenly so. Youth and beauty are fleeting, and that’s why I’ve invested my energy and thoughts most in things that will grow with time, not fade. I’m still 22, but now I realize that maybe I haven’t fully appreciated or utilized these two things-beauty and youth- while I still have them. When they’re gone, it will be a challenge to discover: what kind of existence is next? It will be different, to be sure. A new journey to uncover what exactly it is.

I’m lucky, aren’t I, to have so many wonderful people in my life?

I’d like to think that I have earned them in some way, but I don’t think I have. I think that life has just gifted me friends and family who are the most giving, understanding, forgiving people in the world. Because that’s probably the only type of person who can maintain a friendship with me. I haven’t done much to earn such great people in my life. I will do my best though, to keep them.

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