Simple Pleasures.

I am trying to be okay again. I am trying to be okay with needing to be okay again. That is my life these days.



Last week Marie's mom and I sent a couple of text messages back and forth to see how the other is doing. She is sad. devastated. and struggling to cope with Marie's death. As I am. She said people at work are trying to help her through this but she wishes they would stop. As do I. She said she misses Marie every day. As do I.



I feel guilty for not actually 'talking' to her mother these last six weeks. I've wanted to. I've even tried several times (at the last minute deciding not to). Because while texting is a form of communication it is so impersonal and I know talking to her mom will help. But I'm not strong enough, at the moment, to speak. I'm not strong enough to hear my voice talk about Marie in past tense. It is hard enough talking about Marie to my mom. It is even harder trying to write about her. I can't imagine, at this moment, hearing her mother's voice or having to hear my own talk about how much I miss her.





Because, while I am getting 'better', I am still very angry and fucking pissed that Marie killed herself. Everything reminds me of her, and what she could have been, and what has been lost now that she's gone. I can be a very difficult person because of this. I am sometimes sullen. moody. and down-right livid.

I am angry at girls who can smile and laugh and have dumb conversations about things and still fit in (like *dumb stupid face co-worker who I loathe* who represents everything Marie and I felt made us strange) while my interesting complicated, stubborn best friend is gone. We were strange together. And unique together. And different together. And I am troubled by her loss because it feels like a rejection of the things we valued. And this is where I get so upset I want to smash things.

My bad days are fewer than my good but when they are bad they suck.



But I am trying to counter my negativity as much as I can. I've been supplementing the depression and grief with spontaneity and self discovery. I trying new things and re-evaluating what makes me happy . I am being selfish and self indulgent and concerned with creating something out of my grief. There was a time, when I thought I was suppose to have things all figured out by 25. I've all but erased that thought from my head. For the moment, I am not interested in that. For the moment i want to wear skirts and take drum lessons and be emotionally available to people. I want to get a tattoo and learn how to dance and take a trip somewhere really far away. I'm okay with just experiencing things.

And I'm not sure how long this pursuit for simple pleasures will last. I'm not sure when or if I'll feel the need to buckle down and go back to the job worrying and writing worrying and general life worrying. For now I just want to find things that make me happy and focus my energy on that.

It's not easy. By any means. But I don't have a choice. I just don't. So I'm sewing (i totally made those flags!) and taking pictures and heading to the city more often these days. I've decided to get a buffy tattoo for my birthday. Just the "B" on my wrist because Buffy represents strength and survival and kickassness.
I've also been 'hanging' out with people. Or trying to. When I'm up for up, I'm making myself available for the occasional outing and human interaction. I've had several diner dates with friends where french toast is usually consumed. And I've played awkward drunk scrabble games until 2am. Angie came up last weekend and we just drank raspberry beer and talked about our lives and Star Trek and ate a lot of food.
And last night Sean, another co-worker (Dylan) and I met at a mutual friends apartment so we could watch some Pay Per View wrestling match (royal rumble) that she has been talking about for weeks. I don't know much about wrestling but she said there would be pizza and drinks and cupcakes and naturally I was sold. And everyone i know seems to be into the campiness that is men, wearing little to no clothing, rolling around in a rink performing wrestling moves with weird names.

I've debated going to this thing for weeks now; mainly because Sean and I continue to have our ups and downs. We sometimes argue like friends, sometimes we argue like two people dating. Regardless I am often attracted and aggravated with him. But this week we've been on good terms and I was looking forward to hanging out with him outside of the bookstore.

And surprisingly we had a really good time. Some guy in really tight underwear won the Big Match and I ate a lot of pizza. Sean and I sat next to each other on the lovesick where i curled up in the corner and rested my feet on his legs (it was nice. wrong. but nice).

Sean was polite and funny and considerate the whole night and totally into the wrestling match. It felt nice to be around people so excited about dumb things. And every once in a while, just watching them (Dylan, Miranda, Sean), made me feel less sad and less strange and less lonely.

At the end of the night, Sean drove a very tipsy Dylan and I home (mike's lemonade is no joke). Before we entered Sean's car though Dylan noticed something in the back seat.

Underneath a jacket or shirt behind the passenger seat was a small wooden object that jutted out from the rest of the crap in his car. I couldn't see what Dylan was staring at but it definitely caught his attention.

"dude is that a fucking stake in your car?"

Now it's dark outside and really late and we are all sort of tired and Sean looks all sorts of adorable in this black leather jacket and his scruffy facial hair and suddenly he looks exasperated at the sound of Dylan's voice and stake inquiry.

"just get in the car" he says, trying to unlock the car so he can open the doors for the rest of us.

"dude, you totally have a stake in your car"

So now I'm all interested and peering into the car and i too see the wooden stake peeking out but am not putting two and two together, even tho Sean is visibly pissed at Dylan for bringing it up.

"You're such an asshole man, I was going to wait until later and surprise her....thanks".

The motherfucker made me a vampire stake.

My very own vampire stake.

Holy Crap!

Sure it's dumb and silly and not practical but it's mine. and he made it for me though he didn't have to. And i love it. Absolutely love it.

And like my life these days, the stake and the diner's and the scrabble games and human interaction are things that I suddenly need to be a part of because i want to be a part of them. I need, more than ever, very subtle, simple, uncomplicated pleasures to keep me going. I need them to remind me that in some weird way the life that i am creating for myself can still have value and meaning and be lovely through the pain and loss.

Tomorrow A Real Post.....

.... I promise.

I've been away: mentally, emotionally and physically. but i'm okay. and alive. and watching a lot of Vampire Diaries on Netflix these days. which is where i found this song. i can't stop listening to it. it's sort of my life in a nutshell these days.

but i am getting better. i sort of had a breakdown yesterday (again) but for the most part i am holding up well. i'd write more if i weren't so tired but spending the day at work not helping customers and talking to my co-workers is a hard job. tomorrow tho, i promise. a real post. a real update.

~Beckett

How to be a Alive.

The days are sort of flying by and I do not know how i feel about this.

Life, for the most part, is returning to normal. I am no longer whispered about at job ('what's wrong with Beckett'), my grief and sadness, have been replaced by every one's sense of personal disappointment, agitation or own personal going- ons. It's sort of like the last few weeks have been brushed under some invisible carpet. The people around me know that something is array, that i am different, a little more jaded, angry and distant but they do not bring it up for fear of revealing the mess underneath my facade.

Outside of Saturday when i sort of allowed myself to be sad in front of Sean (even if he couldn't feel me crying against him), I have closed myself off emotionally from letting people into my head. It's my safety net. I have always felt responsible for other people's comfort. I am better at listening and consoling and healing others than I am at addressing my own issues. It's the very avoidance part of my personality I am not proud of. I don't like dealing with personal issues straight on. I don't know how to be the person needing to talk and/or helped.

I talked about this in therapy once or twice. There was this one week when I felt sad, soon after my dad had a heart attack, and I was reluctant to tell my therapist about what was going on. During our whole session i was vague and less willing to talk about what i was feeling. When I finally got around to revealing how distraught I was over his hospitalization (followed by crying hysterically) we talked about my unwillingness to let people console me during times of stress. That it is normal to confide in people and be open about my issues to those willing (and wanting) to help. That shutting off isn't healthy. And while I know all of this, my hesitation to do so in the past and now more than ever, has a lot to do with me not wanting to burden people with my own pain.

I want to talk about Marie. I want to be honest and open about our relationship and what it feels like now that she is gone. I want to talk about the depression and the anxiety and the longing I have to be the girl I was before she died. I can't sleep with the lights off anymore. The silence and darkness terrify me. I'm eating a lot these days but losing weight like a parasite is coursing through my body. I'm more aggressive and cranky. Short tempered and unforgiving. And because i am unwilling to be emotionally available to people I've sort of been seeking comfort out physically.

I'm not whoring it out of course; but the truth is, if I would have had the 'experience' prior to her death, I'm not sure how healthy my relationship/boundaries with men would be (fuck, i hate admitting that). I feel so disconnected lately. From everything and everyone. While there was a time a few weeks ago where having anyone touch me caused severe stomach aches, it's been different these days. I crave intimacy because i feel it will distract me. Or remind me what it feels like to be a person and to be wanted. It has little to do with sex but more to do with that jolt of connection i need to remind myself that I exist even if for a moment.

And I have not acted on this. I would never act on this. But it's a part of the burden and mystery of my grief that I am not able to explain to people. How I've gone from being this girl before my best friend killed herself to the girl i am now. Because they are two different people (the was and am). There is no way around it. Everything i ever thought about love, life, happiness and my own depression have been altered by this experience and I don't even have anyone to talk to this about. And the few people in my everyday life who have offered comfort have no idea how to help me.

Kat tries. She's stepping up in the friend department. She is understanding and forgiving of my sullen ways. She invites me to do things and lets me talk about Marie when i want. But I don't want to crowd her life. She has friends from way back when and doesn't need me being clingy because I don't have many. Sean tries. But there isn't anything more he can do than embrace me. And be there if and when I decide to actually come to him. He asks if I'm okay when he sees me drifting away. He is present and all consuming. I like the idea of his strength. That he wants so badly to fix things. That he is frustrated by his inability to do so. But he has a girlfriend. He has a way of life. And despite our weird attraction and attachment to one another he has someone to take care of that isn't me.

I am suddenly faced with the real task of building relationships with people. Real healthy solid ones, because I know I would find great comfort in them. But I am a complicated girl these days and that seems a hard task to take on (though I'm trying). I am getting better however. I know that i won't be blue my whole life. And I know that I'll be able, maybe, one day to make peace with her death. But it isn't easy. Everything reminds me of her. I sit down to write and i realize I use to talk to her about my story ideas. I laugh and suddenly miss the sound of hers. I feel guilty for having to go on and smile and try to connect with people. There was a time where just having her as my friend was enough. I didn't care that I didn't have many other people to go to. I didn't care that I lacked a boyfriend or at least a warm body to fold into. She was my home. She was my comfort.

And i feel widowed by her loss because we were deeply connected due to our strangeness. I loved and some days hated her. She was my best friend and sometimes worst enemy but she was my mine; however complicated that friendship was. I have not been the easiest girl to handle lately. The sadness comes and goes so quickly that some days it is hard to breathe. But i am trying to rebuild my life now that she's gone. I am making plans and forming relationships (that are healthy and stable). I have a drunk scrabble tournament to attend tomorrow night (it's scrabble and drinking!) with co-workers. Angie (memba' her) is coming up from DC next week so we can hang out in the city all weekend. And Kat and I are going to Brooklyn in two weeks to watch an indie movie and stare at art.

My life continues to go on. Sometimes the grief stops me cold and I am consumed with fear and anxiety but i continue to get up and breathe and live. I continue to try and function like a real human being with hopes and dreams and desires,because one day, hopefully soon, I can feel like one again before life became so strange.

~Beckett

Oh noes!

I may have seriously almost kissed Sean tonight. Or at least wanted to. Or at least had the opportunity to and almost (almost) allowed myself to take advantage of the moment.

Grief has made me a strange girl. I am parts distant and aloof and unwilling to let anyone into my world of sadness and loneliness. This is of course is the very internal side of my life these days. I cry on the way home, I try to keep thoughts about Marie at bay in public, and I worry a lot about the future. I am struggling to understand what my life will look like now that she is gone. I spent most of my day off Thursday crying because I felt guilty for being happy. "James Franco" made me a book ( a honest to god book with a spine and graph paper and a fabric cover) because he wanted me to have a book that I could write my thoughts down in.

And it made me happy, that out of everyone he decided to make me (and kat) a gift. And my gift was a reflection of what he knows about me. And i felt happy, generally happy because he didn't have to make me anything. Why did he make me anything? But for some reason soon after he gave me the gift, I felt guilty and sad because I don't know when it will feel right to be happy about things. I mean sure, i laugh and smile and make jokes, but when will it okay to accept the good in my life, despite this tragedy.

That's what my days are like these days. I am returning back to normal on my terms but the life i new before her death and the one I am leading now are conflicted and struggling to make sense together. In order to handle Marie's death I've been sort of distancing myself from the anxious, self doubting, over-thinking girl who represented that half of our friendship. Marie was such an huge component of my life. I went to her for everything. I rarely made a decision without going to her for approval. And now that she's gone, it feels like I kind of have to figure things out by myself.

And instead of being scared about change, I've sort of been jumping at the opportunity to try new things because it distracts me from my grief. It still has a hold on me but i feel in control of it when I do something the 'me' before her death would have strayed away from. I've been wearing skirts to work and being more assertive about my opinions. I am initiating conversations and going with the flow. I am even being a little more impulsive too, like going in for a tattoo pricing to see how much a Buffy tattoo will cost (it's a small, final girl: the one who survives the scary movie, tribute I'm getting ) Yeah. More about that later.


And everyone around me is taking note of this 'new' beckett. "You look/sound/are so different these days" my friends and mom have commented on and they would be right. There will always be the 'me' that was before Marie died and the 'me' that is coming into her own now that out of the two peas in a pod i am the only one that remains. And I don't know how i feel about this. I feel like this 'new' me that everyone is taking note of is compensating for this loss. I am trying to figure out who I am now that my other half is gone and I am bound to make a few mistakes and/or bad decisions along the way.

Today might have been one of those bad decisions that I will learn from.

Sean and I have been a terrible mess of arguing, not arguing, 'I want to confide in you', 'you can't help me at all' friends lately. While I only see him a couple of days a week, I have taken my grief out on him a lot more than others because I sort of feel like he can handle it. Part of it has to do with his physicality. He's a well built, strong, masculine guy who makes a point of being macho around me. His job consists of building and breaking down things, lifting and carrying shit. Fixing and putting together objects. And because i am an emotional wreck lately I have a tendency of equating his ability to fix broken things to my own current state.

So i test him. I have in the last few weeks put him through the ringer. I can be cold and distant one moment and then desperately wanting to tell him how I am really feeling . And he's been a champ about it. I mean as much as he can towards a girl who is not his girlfriend. As long as I tell him how I am doing the moment we see each other he is receptive to my feelings. He doesn't push me to talk about anything I don't want to and while he isn't good at dealing with my sadness when I do come to him, he makes sure to let everyone else around me know that I am not in the mood.

And this new, weird relationship that we have is very confusing. Because I am not sure if I am acting out in regards to my attraction to Sean because I'm in this sad place or if it's because i generally like him and trust him and he's been very patient with me these last few weeks. And I know that he has a girlfriend, so i try with all my might to be a platonic as possible despite my actual feelings for him.

Today was going to be one of my cold/distant days towards him. Our newish store manager was being a dick the whole day and I had the 'pleasure' of putting up 12 new shelves in the kids department because it's a part of a large project that I'm sort of in charge of. Five hours of hearing new managers mouth and dragging shelves from the back, taking down old ones, and then putting up new ones put me in a very cranky mood. I was dirty and sweaty and ready to go home when I bumped into Sean as I was putting the measuring tape back into the managers office. I grumbled 'hello' when i saw that he was clocking in but walked out when he called after me because i didn't want to be pulled in for a 'minute to long' hug. I just wanted to clock out and go home.

But he said my name again and when I turned around to deny him a hug, i knew immediately that something was wrong. His face was all red and he could barely look at me and he kept ushering me over with his hang (our hug motion). And when I finally came over he buried my face in his chest and I could feel his heart beating so fast. I kept asking what's wrong but he wouldn't say anything and because we were standing in front of co-workers I dragged him into the hallway, away from them, so he would tell me.

When we pulled away, he was barely holding back the tears. Long story short, he is having a lot of issues with his family (mainly his dad) and they(dad and him) almost came to blows today. He was pacing the hallway between the break room and the backroom (where only employees are allowed) as he struggled to get the words out, so i suggested we go into hallway leading to receiving where no one could see us.

And the moment we are out of sight from managers or customers he can't hold back how frustrated his is. I don't think I've ever seen a boy cry before. Not outside of family members. And I was a little taken aback because he's the strong one, you know. I'm just the sad girl, who doesn't open up to people, who feels alone and afraid now that her pod is gone.

And i can tell he's struggling to tell me what is going on. But he does, outside of trying to hold back his tears. And this is when I take a seat on some boxes nearby, and listen intently. And I don't know what to do because i can't fix it or him or me or life. So I let him cry, in his weird boy crying way. After a while, he goes from being sad to angry at his dad and i can tell he wants to now punch something or curse. And, I don't know if saying anything will make him feel better. Because words have not helped me these last few weeks.

So, in a very surprising move, I just wave him over. I tell him to come over to me. In between his cries (and growing anger) I just, put my hand out and tell him to come over so that i can hold him. It's all I can do because it feels right. And he does. He takes me hand, and he pulls me up from where I'm sitting and brings me into his chest and he cries, and he's shaking and he's apologizing because:

"you've, like, lost someone really important and everything I'm feeling like now pales in comparison. but I'm so fucking miserable"

So then I start shaking, and i let out a sigh (because this is the first time he has brought up what I've been going through without me mentioning it)that turns into a cry that i muffle back into a

'it's okay, I don't want you to think you can't come to me because of what I've been going through. I just kind of need you to be okay because i don't know how to make this better. And I'm scared and freaking out because I don't know if this is helping'

So then he tells me not to be scared and he's stroking me hair and I'm listening to his heartbeat and we remain like that for the next few minutes and when we finally pull away there is like this moment where....

...I wanted to be happy. And I wanted not be sad. I wanted him not to be sad. And I almost ignored reason and my own moral code so that we could connect.

But I didn't. Because I immediately felt guilty for whatever had just occurred. So I patted his stomach, and smiled awkwardly and told him everything was going to be okay and that we should probably get out of the hallway.

And we sort of left on that note. I told him to stay calm as to get through the night and he thanked me for listening. And then, naturally i cried on the way home because I don't understand who the hell I am anymore or what the hell I'm doing or why I've let myself become so attached to him. Or who I am now that grief is such a huge part of my life.

What the hell? This makes me a sort of bad person right? Shit.

Before I left, Sean halfheartedly said (after I told him if he needed anything he knew where to find me) that he wished he could come to my house later after work 'you know, just drive up at 1am in the morning, to talk, but that would be crazy right'. Yes! It would be crazy and stupid and kind of nice but stupid and crazy and dumb and impulsive. And I hate that i feel so impulsive these days. And I hate that I always told him too.

Ugh, I don't know what I'm doing. Everything feels so weird and strange. And I wish I had my best friend here to help me through the feelings I'm feeling and the sadness I don't know how to heal and the grief that is changing me into a person neither better or worse.... but different.

End Rant :/

Hanging in There.

I haven't been able to post in a while.

Work, people, and general anxiety is all consuming lately.

I have a day off tomorrow and outside of grabbing lunch with Heather, I will finally be able to write again. I feel like I can only say what I want to say in words.

I am holding up okay but talking about my grief to other people is not an option. Which is sort of making it hard to get through this. I feel guilty for being sad around people, especially after being so mean and distant towards them the week after her death.

I was angry because I felt like no one understood what I was going through and their attempts at consoling me (pulling me in for hugs, telling me that I could come to them for anything) wasn't enough. Because the only thing that would fix the situation s impossible for anyone to do. So i sulked an pushed people away and unplugged for awhile.

And I guess for a while it made it easier because I can't stand the look on my friends faces when I tell them that Marie killed herself. It is a mix of pity and sorrow and a "i don't know how to react to that. imma leave you alone now". The other night Sean, who i profusely apologized to for yelling at, were talking about something or another and I made the mistake of saying 'the person i use to go to for all these life questions is no longer here. it's weird you know'. And for a split second he had no idea what I was talking about so he asked "who's that person....oh (he face then turned red)...I'm sorry, i should have put two and two together, I'm really sorry".

That's how i feel about everything lately. That my life( and grief) is this big open wound that people are a) trying to ignore because it'll bring them down too or b) that they are trying to mend in ways that aren't helping.

And I can't fault them. Most of them have never gone through anything like this. Hell up until three weeks ago neither had I. But I feel alone in trying to understand her life and death. In trying to put together the pieces of our friendship and why she thought this was the only option. I am coping, I am mending, I am putting one foot in front of the other.

But I am a different girl now, forever changed by her death. I'm resilent and strong though fragile and now timid about opening up to people. My opinions about life, love and friendship are all mixed up and I am struggling to understand why love alone isn't enough to cure depression. She was such a huge part of my life that having to plan my life without her is what often stops me in my tracks. Like a punch in the gut, I am out of breath when i realize there will being many moments when I accidently reach for the phone to call her only to remember she isn't here anymore.

This alone is where grief suddenly gets the best of me. I am consumed with sadness and anxiety because I've never considered life without her. There was never this idea in my head that at 25, ushering in the new year, I wouldn't be able to call her and talk about all the possible plans for our future...together. That Marie will only function as a memory now that I guard with my life.

And a Me without Her feels weird. It's doable. It's a reality that I have no other choice but to accept but it's weird, and strange and for a little while a lonely, lonely, lonely existence. Maybe talking to someone about this would help? I thought about going into therapy again but I just don't think I can afford it especially now that the store is cutting hours (as they always do after the holidays). But I've realized in the last few weeks that my friends here aren't equipped to deal with my grief in all it's entirety. Hell, no one is really. They can give hugs and attempt to make me smile and forgive me for being a bitch and dick some days. But what they can't do is help me understand what happens now to my life that my best friend is gone.

I don't think anyone but I can do that. I just don't know how to go about doing it.

Anyway, I got to work to soon. My mom bought me this really comfortable footed pajama's for Christmas and I must say I'd rather stay in bed wearing them all day instead of dealing with customers. But i only work till 7, 'James Franco look-a-like' made me a Christmas present, though he celebrates Hanukkah so maybe it's a late Hanukkah present i don't know, and tomorrow I have a day off. A much needed day off. So today won't be that bad.

I've also been decorating my room (a lot) lately and there is something comforting in making my living space a sanctuary. I finally got my writing/computer desk area together and am now attempting to build a reading nook/corner in my room. Being handy and crafty is my thing now. It's the one change i'm comfortable with this days. Pictures to come soon once i clean up the small solo new years eve party mess i made. Let's just say there was a lot of pizza, apple cider and singing cher loudly into the night...with tears have you. Now my room is gross and smells like leftovers. Ugh.