True Life: I Stress Eat
Hello! The planning and launch of this bad boy nearly cost me my liver (champagne is on sale at Market 32 this week), but we did it, and frankly, I’m stoked.
It’s been a tough year — I quit a really strange and unhealthy job and did the same thing with an even stranger and wildly more exhausting and harmful relationship. Somewhere between working sixty or more hours a week and trying not to drown in said relationship, I lost myself. More specifically, I lost my inspiration. For everything. I barely had the energy to breathe.
It has just been within the last month or so have I begun to feel… normal (?) again. Breathing is getting easier. Of course, by nature I am still overly stressed all the fucking time and am always questioning what I am actually doing with my life, but my mind is starting to feel right. I have even started dreaming again, which for me, is huge. I’m a heavy, imaginative dreamer and was genuinely worried I was dying when I realized I hadn’t dreamt in months. I am incredibly in tune with myself; I always know what I need to make myself happy. But any sort of personal intuition had faded away, and when I realized what was happening to me, I was worried about myself.
“If you think you’re going to have a mental breakdown, you probably are, so slow down and take a nap.”
In the last few months, as I’ve been winding down from all of the hectic bullshit that the last year threw my way, I have spent a lot of time doing… nothing. Yep, you heard me…. nothing. I’ve been working a very easy, stress-free serving job that has been great for allotting me time to just chill. At first, it made me uneasy and I felt gluttonous and useless, but one day it hit me — “girl, you deserve this!” I do. I deserve it. Of course, this lackadaisical schedule will come to an end soon, but for now, I am enjoying napping a lot, reading, snacking, binging anything and everything on Netflix, and drinking at inappropriate times of the day (ahem, sometimes before eleven am).
I went back and forth about how to kick off my first post, but I couldn’t write about anything without expressing my personal mantra and giving it to you straight. So here it is:
Life gets so so so weird. Sometimes it’s too overwhelming and we are exhausted and practically lifeless and everyone tells us to just keep going. I am here to tell you to STOP. Slow the fuck down. Listen to yourself. What do you need? What will make you happy? What makes you the best version of yourself? Do not ever stop listening to yourself, whether it be needing to eat a fucking salad (note to self: please eat a vegetable in the next year), or just shutting your stupid phone off and spending a weekend in alone watching American Horror Story and eating marshmallows for all three meals. Don’t get swept up in the stress and the hard stuff, because it will, in fact, be fucking ok.
Celebrate yourself because none of this is easy and you’re probably not blessed like me and can nap whenever. That must be really hard.
I decided to celebrate myself today (and all of you amazing humans) because its almost the end of the week and we are all exhausted and needing some booze. But also, I need baked goods. So, I made cookies. Cookies so perfect that all you will be able to do is crawl into bed and eat the whole fucking batch (don’t even share, just dig in). I, of course, found the recipe through one of my one million food blogs. I usually black out mid-scrolling sesh and get really carried away, but alas the baking goddesses guided me to the sweet Joy the Baker, who just casually posted these confetti cookies on her story as if they were waiting just for me.
(disclaimer: I am not a perfect baker, most of my shit is super awkward, but I have found that baking/cooking of any kind is just ANOTHER great way to avoid going out in public. You’re welcome.)
ok, love you guys bye
xoxo rose
most adult thing I’ve done this week: read an entire New Yorker (and then promptly cancelled my free trial so I wouldn’t have to pay for it)
