Coming to terms with things that I don't like the idea of is not my strong point. Never has been. And in all honesty, I'm not so sure that will ever change.
I am the person that can you tell you exactly how to handle a situation in your life, but when it comes to mine, I push the situation to the side. Handling a situation, dealing with it, coming to terms with it, is a completely foreign concept to me.
I am the always last minute girl. My passion for living a life of blissful ignorance means I stay up late finishing uni assignments and submitting them with three seconds left on the clock. I call friends the day after their birthday. I do my Christmas shopping on Christmas eve. I tell people I love them when its too late, or not at all. I would need to be on my death bed before I accept that I need to see a doctor. Much to my detriment.
The strange thing is, that I am the most obsessed over thinker out there! Perhaps that's why I choose to be so ignorant, because I have already come up with all the potential outcomes, and decided I'm not happy with any of them. It's like reading a 'pick your own adventure' novel, and not liking how any of them end. So you put the book away, and never think of it again.
This morning, I was, as always, running around with a mental block trying to find a topic to word vomit about. Two sick kids means I'm at home and have been so bored that I am on the verge of actually ironing and the only things I could come up with were 'How to stab yourself in the eye with a fork to cure boredom' and something about porn. By porn, I do mean shoes.
So I turned, strangely, to a friend of mine.
I should have known that would be a bad idea. I should have known not to do it. This friend of mine is the only person in my life that calls me on my bullshit. That seems to understand the way my brain works. That claims to 'know what I'm doing'. The only person that pops my bubble of blissful ignorance.
And today it went POP.
A suggestion was made. A wound was reopened. A self analysis took place. And tears were shed.
I'm still unsure if it was tears of fear and sadness over a situation I am ignoring, tears of happiness over having someone in my life that calls me on my shit, or just tears because it took so much damn work to build that bubble and some pricks just gone and popped it.
Whatever the reason, without my bubble of bliss, I know that I need to make a decision. I need to pull on my big girl panties and toughen up. Face the world. Reality.
Reality bites. But at least someone is making me accountable for it.