Make it Stop

This one is going to be rough, because if I stare at it too long it’s not going to be published. You’ll see why in a second.

Welcome to everything in my brain. More than you probably ever wanted to know about me.

Sometimes I feel like I have schizophrenia because of the constant battle between my polar opposite personalities. Maybe I do. I should probably have that checked out. On one hand we have perfectly confident, happy, proud Shelby who will stop at nothing to get what she wants. On the other is the Shelby riddled with depression and anxiety. We’ll give Sunshine Shelby the ADD to even it out a little bit. Sunshine Shelby and Hateful Shelby constantly argue. I argue with myself? There are two voices in my head arguing. God this is weird. I’m crazy, just say it.

It’s been months since I stopped taking my meds, but to be honest, I could down an entire bottle of abilify and the voices will still scream at me. It is so….so….difficult to be sunshine when the other half of me is telling me loud and clear that I’m worthless. You’re bothering people. God, you’re pathetic. Get out of the way. Failure. You’re stupid. They’re so loud it’s hard to think past them. And then comes the panic attack.

How is one supposed to keep their chin up against a cruel world when they can’t even handle themselves?

I’ve been suicidal twice in my adult life. The first time I realized what my thoughts were and immediately fought it. I was actually angry because I wanted to live. How dare my brain and heart deny me that! The second time I gave in, because there was nothing left. Nothing was on the balance to keep me afloat this time. If it hadn’t been for my best, oldest friend and my persistent mother, I wouldn’t be here. I didn’t think I would make it out of that.

I don’t know what else to say, other than how exhausting the constant roller coaster of Sunshine Shelby’s anger and Hateful Shelby’s put downs is. No wonder I’m so depressed.


What are your stories? Do you struggle too? How do you cope?

The Outcome of 6 Months of Typing and Deleting

I started to write a poem, because that was what I felt at the time. But the more this thought grew, I knew it was a blog post. The funny thing is….I think my last blog post was about the very beginning. I’ll have to go check.

It’s been 6 months and 5 days since my relationship ended. It feels like a lifetime. I’ve come to the keyboard so many times over these months to tell my story, but then I realized none of it mattered anymore. The hows, the whys, the fingers pointed at other fingers. I have done my analyzing, and it didn’t change anything. It’s over. It was over on day 1, to be honest.

You see, as much as these things don’t matter, I have to explain something for you to see the whole picture. He never loved me. Not once in the 2 1/2 years that he said he did. Not when he promised me it would be forever, that I was his life, that we were partners. He tried. That’s ok. It’s ok, because I loved him with every fiber of my being. My soul. I have never loved a human with so much of me in my entire life. And while people may argue differently, I know deep down that this is the absolute truth, no matter what. You might be wondering, how could I possibly think this when the relationship was so flawed and he didn’t even love me back? None of this impeded the ever growing adoration I felt for him. Granted, I didn’t know he didn’t love me until after it ended…but that is besides the point.

I thought I hadn’t found that great love yet. I worried that I never will. But it was there. Just because it wasn’t reciprocated doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. I have felt this great love. The love of my life. I can only imagine the awesome power of that love when it could be reciprocated. Over these 6 months and 5 days….6 days…it’s now after midnight…I have met and dated countless men. At first it served to fill the void…the need for affection and companionship I felt when suddenly my life partner had evaporated. I found some who have made me hope for a new start. False hope, but hope nonetheless. I’ve never been down for long, and this was no exception. But underneath the hope, I realize now that I’ve held onto my great love. It has never left me. It never will. I feel it when I open my pantry and see those damn Kahlua chocolates, or I eat our favorite Dijorno’s pizza. I feel it when I sleep perfectly on my side of the bed like I’m waiting for someone to hop into bed beside me. I feel it when I turn on the computer we built together, see the icons for the games we played. I feel it when our four-legged daughter does something cute and her daddy is not there to share the moment. I feel it in the silent darkness as I open the door to my empty apartment after a long day and there’s no one here to welcome me home. To our home.

I have felt this great love. My sweet, so intelligent, so gentle, so funny love.

It’s been 6 months and 6 days. I still cry. Hell, there are tears now. It’s not the hour long sobbing sessions that definitely spooked my neighbors in the beginning. The pain is still there.

After hearing a story, not so unlike mine, a very important question came to mind. What now? What do you do when you have loved so hard and so brilliantly so young? When you have given your soul to someone already, but an entire life lies ahead of you? What do you do when you have had your love of a lifetime, your white picket fence, so soon? I used to ponder this question out of love for a friend and their future, but now it seems this is my fate too. Although it makes me determined to find an answer, I worry that there is none. Do you wander aimlessly, because none of the faces you see are the face? Do you have hope? Is there even hope? Hope for what? Something less divine than the love we felt? Something beyond belief, dare I say..better?

I’ve run out of words, but I don’t know how to end here is my underwhelming ending. Ta da.

An Open Letter to the Distance We Traveled

Good morning,

I haven’t seen you since…well I don’t really remember the last time. Maybe it was the time I popped into church to retrieve something I’d forgotten and mistakenly said hello to a room full of newly minted strangers. I guess my brain missed the transition between ‘my friends’ and ‘people I used to know’. I guess after 2 years the excitement of seeing loved ones becomes automatic. Or maybe the last time I saw you was when we knocked on all the doors of our building trying to find the owner of that silver car so we could save that kitten. You know, we never got the chance to talk. I never knew what to say. It was already too over. When was the last time I looked you in the eyes and really saw you? When was the last time I didn’t retreat into my room at the slightest sign of life in the apartment? When was the last time I gave more than mumbled one word answers?

Half the time I was too consumed in my pain and abandonment. As usual, my mind would constantly string together all of the problems I’d caused between us and others I’d loved so fiercely, screaming how toxic I am to everyone I know. The word toxic seems to follow me wherever I go nowadays. I fell into old habits, but this time I no longer had my family to glue me back together when I exploded. I’ve been told so many times that there never was any glue, that you were never even on my side. I don’t even know what is real anymore. They say you weren’t good to me. For me. You were selfish, etc. But all I can remember are the ways we laughed together. The long nights, long talks, movie marathons, foods made, foods eaten, our first trip to the new Kroger and how we never wanted to leave…don’t they count for something?

I wanted to tell you that ring on your finger is beautiful. True love. I fought down the happiness I felt for you because I was angry that you had your life together while mine seemed to fall apart. Really, I’m excited for your future. I hope I get the honor of watching it unfold in pictures rather than not at all. I couldn’t help but notice the return of the missing puzzle to our family after everything went down. Now the gangs back together, but I’m alone.

Today you floated into Starbucks like the queen you are and found a place in line just a few people behind me. You wore the sweater I loved so much I couldn’t bare to give it away, so I kept it in the family. Your hair has grown out since you chopped it all off. I can’t help but wonder if you’re growing it out for the wedding. I hope you curl it. I always envied the way your hair curled so perfectly. I can imagine your response to this cold front. You probably pranced around the new apartment, celebrating the return of our favorite season by hugging your jeans, sweaters, and boots. I’m sure your order today was off the Fall menu. Something warm. Too often I catch myself saying something you would say, or how you would say it. Doing something you would do. Little things I picked up from you that became a part of me. Even worse, I hear your voice in my head as if you were still there to witness my life and make comments. I wish you knew how much I miss you in those moments. They’re a constant reminder of what’s been lost. I grew to know you too well, and now all I have is the ghost of you.

I tried so hard to assimilate into the family. Everyone seemed to be on the same page, but I struggled to keep up. I adored the effortless dorkiness I surrounded myself with. In the end, my failure to keep up killed me. This seems to be a pattern lately. In my eyes you were always better than me. You were both a threat and an idol. I looked up to you. Hopefully this explains why I am the way I am.

It’s too late to go back now. I’m not even sure this letter is a good idea. But we couldn’t even look at each other, 3 feet away. I feel safer in my isolation. At least here I can’t hurt anyone else. It should stay that way. Consider this my version of Adele’s ‘Hello’. I’m sad. I’ll probably always be sad. But maybe next time we’ll be able to smile at each other from across the coffee shop.

All the best,


Breaking a Myth

I wasn’t planning on spending my first week back in town by myself in our rather large apartment. I didn’t want to. When I learned everyone else would go back to their lives after our New Years get-together, I instantly dreaded these two days alone. What is there to do in a tiny ghost town with no friends present to accompany you?

Tonight I stood in front of my mirror and silently praised myself for not breaking down and wallowing in my isolated misery. And then I was struck with a lifetime of memories, voices telling me to be alone with myself, get to know myself, be single, etc. I laughed and thought, what could being single have to do with analyzing your person and learning who you want to be? Why do I need to be single to come to terms with the character I’ve been for 20 years?

I started dating my freshman year of high school and I haven’t really stopped since. I don’t think I’ve gone more than a few months as a single person since I started dating. Most call me ‘boy crazy’, some even went so far as to call my ‘church girl’ nature an act and I was really a whore. I call it trying. I was trying in all the wrong places…but I was trying none the less. Through out this time, I’ve been told the “advice” you read above. Because apparently I have too much on my plate when I try to live life while in a relationship. So why stop at the boyfriend? Why not cut out every single person I have a relationship with so I can focus on the all important ME? As if I haven’t spent 20 years staring at ME in the mirror and witnessing first hand the life of ME?

See, I find it very odd that people who have known me for as little as 2 years to 10 years find it their duty to inform me I don’t know myself. My oldest friend has been in my life for around 17 years and even though she has the most right to give me said advice, she has never taken the chance. I could bring in thousands of bible references and what not, but I’m going to leave this paragraph at the word hypocrisy.

Do you ever look at the people around you and wonder if they have the same intelligent thought processes you do? Do you ever wonder what makes them tick, how they think, their motivations, their opinions? I do. I do all the time. This is only a fraction of the miles of forests that would die if my every day thoughts were put on paper. I’m going to be honest….half the time what comes out of my mouth does not reflect what goes on inside. I’m sure that’s a problem most if not everyone has. I don’t need to be single to reflect on past actions, future actions, and life long dreams. I do that every second of every day. I reflect on that embarrassing moment at the dance hall while I do the dishes, I reminisce on interactions with teachers, family, friends, and strangers before I sleep at night. I study my face and body in my mirror as I wash my hands or after my shower, noting imperfections and loving other features. I know myself better than anyone on this planet. The only one who could know me better than I do is God. My boyfriend of 2 1/2 years is still learning what it means to be me.

It’s funny because dating boys helped me to learn about myself and shape my character into someone I was proud of. They never once held me back from growing, because when they did, I left. I’ve always been flighty, but it’s important to making ME.

I’ve become very independent through many experiences, most of them dating related. I’ve had to face a possible future without my boyfriend and I hate it, not because I need him, but because he has become such an important part of my life and I thoroughly enjoy having him. I could stand without him. I would be a little wobbly at first, but I could. Who wouldn’t be wobbly after such a long relationship? When you have someone beside you and suddenly they’re gone, it’s shattering. If this isn’t an indication of my independence and confidence in my being, then I don’t know what is.

I’m sitting on my couch, eating 3 Musketeers Bites, and watching Scandal, and I can’t help but think this is how you get to know yourself. Not by blocking your heart off to love, but being independent and unafraid to meditate. Later I’m going to call my sweet boyfriend and enjoy having a best friend to love me for me.



Everything You Need To Know To Survive An Interaction With A Cancer

30 Topic Challenge: Day 10- Me and My Zodiac sign!

CCYou know those stupid little Facebook pictures that say something like “These are the best kissers!” and list a bunch of Zodiac signs? Yeah. So have I. That’s why I decided to do some research for this one. Astrology isn’t exactly taken seriously, so when I googled my Cancer sign, I struggled to find something legitimate. Is anything even legitimate when it comes to this stuff?

Regardless, I found two websites that I decided were close enough. (They’ll be listed below if you want to take a gander!) I’ve always felt Cancer fit me like a glove, which was only cemented by my research this week.

Tip #1: “Just as the moon has its phases, so does Cancer.” No wonder I love the moon so much! Cancer is paired with the moon, which explains why we’re very moody. Anyone who has to spend more than a day with me will understand how moody I am. This is also because we Cancers feel emotions very deeply. We are easily moved, easily excited, and easily hurt. Keep that in mind! So, just like Texas weather, if you don’t like my mood, wait 5 minutes and it will change! (Not kidding) I should probably have this checked out. I might be bipolar.

Tip #2: Cancers are very motherly and family oriented. This also means we’re very loving and doting. We fall in love quickly, are very gentle, and enjoy pleasing loved ones. (the latter is slightly conditional for me. Depends on the situation). I personally feel strong loyalty towards those I love and my passions. If I consider you family, I will go to the ends of the Earth to protect you. Likewise, anyone who speaks against or attempts harm will be quickly put in their place. That’s MY job!

Tip #3: We crabs are afraid of rejection. This is very true, but very unfortunate considering I’m in the entertainment business. Whether it’s a bad review or comment on my writing, or rejection for a role in a play, I definitely feel it. And it takes weeks, sometimes months, for me to become confident again. I’m best with words, but they are also my downfall. Use them carefully.

Tip #4: Beware the persistence! The articles I found like to make metaphors with the Cancer Crab’s shell, which makes sense I guess. I’m very hard headed, and once I get something into my head I will not back down. Passion is a huge part of my personality, and like I said in #2, I will remain loyal to that passion no matter what. I WILL get my way, or I will barrel you down to get there. Don’t stand in my way, don’t try to stop me, because I don’t want to hurt you. But I will.

Tip #5: Crabs are empathetic! This makes so much sense to me…I thought I was just weird or crazy!! Call it riding the wave of the emotion in the room. If I’m interacting with someone who is feeling irritated, elated or anything in between, I tend to mirror their emotions for no reason. I haven’t become a sympathetic crier yet, but maybe that will come one day. If you’re brooding and I start throwing things….just know that’s your fault. 😉

Tip #6: This is a biggie. Possessiveness. We are so territorial! It’s almost childlike. If I was “playing” with it, it will forever be mine, and you will not lay a finger on it or I will crush your face. My work, my ideas, my people, my style, it’s all mine. This kind of goes hand in hand with #2 as well. Don’t touch my stuff! Likewise, if I have a favorite spot, self-proclaimed tradition (Such as riding shot gun), nickname, or anything of the sort, I will shoot daggers your way if you step over the line. I don’t care who you are! (…ok…if you’re Jesus, we’re cool, homie.)

I like even numbers. That’s a good bit of information to keep from stepping on toes 🙂 Here are the websites I used:

If you’re interested, explore them a little bit! Or you can read more about Cancer 🙂

Pray for me as I begin to write my “What If” post. We’re about to get deep and dirty. (don’t be a child.)

Over Tired, Under Qualified

The break down came tonight.

Two weeks giving my all to the children and camps I worked for and I’m ashamed to be overwhelmed. This is a problem.

This is a problem, because there is such a gap between teenagers/young adults and their parent counterparts. A divide. I will never tell you one is more right than the other or that they are unequally balanced, but there is miscommunication between the two species. We young people have no idea what our counterparts handle daily. When we get there, we’ll understand the stress of bills, mortgages, and whatever parents think is more important than our problems. For now, we’re in our own world. A world that sits within the boundaries of our own experiences, lives, and problems. What does this mean? We may not deal with bills, but we have large scale mountains to climb every day that are just as exhausting as those payments. The same way we have no idea what they go through, they seem to have forgotten what we go through. Or maybe they haven’t, but they consider it child’s play. Maybe it is. But in this world, my world as a 19 year old, my problems are important.

Your walk of life will never be harder or better than anyone else’s. Why? Because nobody is exactly the same. Not even twins. We all have different stamina, desires, priorities, and obstacles. You’re not going to get a trophy for wearing your body down and pushing people out of your way. Sticking your nose in the air at people who don’t live exactly the same life as you is not attractive.

If we all thought of life as a Planet Fitness gym, it would be 100x better. Nobody would be trying to one up their friends and everybody would be focused on bettering themselves for their personal benefit, because that’s a life well lived. Don’t look at the girl on the bike while you’re on the treadmill and laugh at her slow pace. It has nothing to do with you! Remember when we would all tattle-tell to our teachers at some point, and they would all tell us the same thing? Mind your own business. You worry about you. Because, at the end of the day, you don’t know the other person like you know yourself. You never know what a person is capable of. 

Just some thoughts to start the weekend…I will be back on my topic challenge with the next post!

This One’s For The Boys

30 Topic Challenge: Day 5- Things you want to say to your ex(es)!

Well, to be honest I’ve spent a considerable amount of time worrying about this one. First of all, I have a lovely significant other that supports me as a reader, and I don’t think he needs to know the nitty gritty details of my relationship memories. Second of all, neither do yall. Now that I’ve gotten that over with, I’m sitting here listening to Uptown Funk and I’ve just read a blog post about marriage that made me all sorts of emotional. (blame the hormones. I’m a woman in love, people.) A quick switch to my Florence + The Machine station on Pandora has me thinking I don’t really need to shovel dirt on the graves I’ve already dug. When I think about it, I’ve literally run through a crowd of unsuspecting boys and torn them to shreds. Don’t get the wrong idea…I didn’t come out unscathed. I’m just an intense lover with a flighty brain. I know what I want and if you don’t fit it, you’re simply gone. Unless of course, I try to mold you into my image. Then you’re just all messed up.

The point is, I’ve done enough damage in my life. Why not thank the boys who directly/indirectly shaped me into the person I am now? They certainly deserve a round of applause for leading me to my current boyfriend. Without them I wouldn’t even be near anything he would want, for sure. (Feel free to contradict me)

So what have they contributed? Let’s see if I can do this without being too specific. With them I have fallen in love with the first bursts of happiness when one finds out they’re in love. I’ve certainly learned how not to break up with someone. In the span of 4 years I’ve been crushed, used, abused, and manipulated. I’ve learned how to take care of myself as an adult-like child. And then I learned how to take care of my significant other, who was always more of a child than I was. Scratch that…after a certain point they were immature. But as much as it was bad, it was good and worth it. I experienced new things with each of them. I’ll never forget how #7 was my best friend before anything else. When #6 fell short, he picked up the slack and made sure I was alive and smiling. This devotion earned him his spot in the ranks, because I can’t really resist a gentleman, even if he is the biggest dork. As much as I felt unappreciated because of it, he also taught me to slow down and enjoy life instead of jumping from task to task. #2 had..still has…an unconditional respect for me that makes me feel like less of a disaster. #4 helped me to break free from social standards. And so on and so forth…

So, this is what I have to say. We can all say “F You” to our exes. It’s quite easy. But I’ve never enjoyed tearing people down. If you are one of the 8, thank you for your time. I’m very satisfied with my life. Now, go listen to We Are Never Getting Back Together by TSwift so you don’t get any ideas!

That was a squirmy topic. How about a lighter one? Next: My views on mainstream music!

This Is One Of Those “Don’t Even Get Me Started!” Moments

30 Topic Challenge: Day 2- Something I feel strongly about.

I want to tell you I spent days mulling this one over, but it took a matter of minutes for my brain to flip through all of the things I feel strongly about. It was a matter of what is censored, what doesn’t have enough content, and what I feel like writing. So, I’ve come up with something really good. Let’s start with a quote.

“No fast food worker is worth $15. Not even management.”

Dear person,

your face isn’t worth $15. I hope your servers have the instinct to spit in your food. That comment deserves so much bad karma.

So, why is this important to me? Because, even though I don’t think the minimum wage should be that high (maybe $10), I still believe a human life is worth so much more. And all people here to do any service for you should be treated with respect.  Had he said “no fast food JOB is worth $15” I might have let it slide. And maybe that’s what he meant. But he didn’t. He made it sound like fast food workers are the scum under his precious, gold shoes. So this is a post about service for all the faces of ignorance out there.

1. Fast food isn’t a job for slackers. We might all think it is, and maybe it’s where a lot of slackers turn, but it’s not a job FOR slackers. One of my favorite quotes from a favorite movie, Stardust: “There are shop boys, and, there are boys who just happen to work in shops for the time being.” Do the math and $7.25 makes a little less than $14 grand. And that’s working 9-5, every weekday without holidays. We all know it doesn’t work that way. Now you big, weathered adults tell me if a single person can live off that, let alone a family. They’re just people like everyone else trying to make their way! They probably hate their job too, or maybe they’re really interesting and they actually enjoy working there. Who are you to judge? They’re happy. They’re trying. It IS a career, by definition.

2. There’s been so much debate at my university about tipping waiters. Now this is extremely infuriating to me, because I’m close to a few servers and former servers. Every time they get stiffed, it’s not only a punch in their face but a punch in mine too. It’s extremely distressing to go on the floor every shift and pour out all you have, just to get 5% sometimes. If that. Some people like me and others I know try to help out with that and give a little more than 20% so our hardworking servers can have a good day. Again, they’re just trying to get by. So the debate. Question 1: “why should I tip well all the time? I’ll tip 18% if they’re above and beyond, but if they don’t do well they don’t get a tip”. Always remember; servers have to give a certain percentage of their tip to the hosts, busers, and bartenders. Don’t make them pay you to eat. That’s not how it works, guys. 15-20%, all the time. I don’t care if they were the worst server you’ve ever had, don’t go below 15%. Question 2: “I don’t have money for a tip after I pay for my meal.” I hate this excuse. You shouldn’t be eating at a restaurant if you can’t afford a proper tip. Especially when you sit there and eat like a pig. Yeah, I’m talking to you, lady who ordered 4 bowls of rice. Servers depend on tips for their income. If you can’t afford said tip, go some place where they don’t need it. Like McDonalds. I hear they get paid a whopping $7.25, a whole $5 more than servers!

3. Nobody, not janitors, not cashiers, not burger flippers, not servers, not sales people, not teachers, are beneath you. Ever. End of story. They are there by choice, to provide service to you whether they need the money or like the job. They are not your slaves. Courtesy will get you ever where, I promise. To this day I’m extremely disturbed by stories I’ve heard of rude behavior such as snapping to get their attention and leaving large messes for them to take care of, knowing they will have to because “it’s their job”.

All in all…treat your neighbor with respect. That’s what I feel strongly about. Nobody is higher than the other in the totem pole.

Check back next week for the next topic: a book I love! It’ll be a short one, so maybe I’ll fit in three next week. Who knows?

The Beginning

30 post challenge Day 1: 5 ways to win my heart.


5 reasons I fell in love with the quirky man I now call Home.

But let’s start with an introduction. Why a challenge? I can and will tell you that it’s a celebration of my 10 first blog posts ever. (woohoo me! It’s not just a phase!) Now I’m going to be frank. It’s a celebration, but it’s also been on my mind for a while. Honestly, I need help spicing my life up a bit, and a challenge seems like the perfect way. So here I am. Baring my soul. Again. For 30 posts. I might sprinkle in some random rants as the inspiration comes, but the 30 challenges will come every week without fail. That is my promise to you! ….and me. So, without further ado, 5 reasons I fell in love with my man.

5. We began in the world of technology, and he would have a way of using Skype emoticons and this stupid, adorable squirrel to talk. Once we had a whole conversation with emoticons/those little picture things. Of course….when we explained our trains of thought they had nothing to do with each other…but we tried, right? Point: he made me laugh with the simplest gestures.

4. We had been friends for a while. So he’d already gotten to the good friend stage. Once he opened up, I saw something very beautiful.

3. We talked….and talked….and talked…you know, I’m not sure we ever stopped talking for a while there. Unless I fell asleep, which I did a lot, in which case I can’t really control my vocal chords.

2. He inspires/inspired me in my art, in my life, in my dreams. He makes me want to be bigger and better than I am. He makes me want to explore my limits in all categories and push them harder.

1. Through everything over the years, he is unconditionally faithful. He surrounds me with his love and support and never tears me down. He picks me up when the world throws me on the ground, hands me a mirror, and tells me I am worthy of every precious thing in the world. And after 2 years, I believe it.

I don’t need to sit here and list the ways to my heart. What a waste it would be for the public, because he has it completely. He is my best friend and my #1 supporter. I look into his eyes and see someone who would move mountains for me, and that is how I know he is worthy.

Post 1 done! Look for the next one this weekend: a rant about something I feel strongly about! ….now I have to find something I feel strongly about…

Just Another Stupid Phase, huh?

You think it’s stupid, but I enjoy it. 

By Shelby S. 

They call it a public online journal. Well, isn’t that what a blog is? Some tell me I need to internalize….but when you’re me, internalizing will eventually lead to the destruction of me and those close to me. Believe me. I’ve been there.

So, here I am. My own therapy. Judge all you like, but you’ll thank me later when the world doesn’t explode.

When I was growing up, I imagined myself a cup. In this cup was every smack in the face, punch in the gut, heart plummeting moment I would gather as I went about my life. When something went wrong, the negativity went straight into said cup and I plastered a smile on my face. No harm done, and everyone got their happy Shelby. Well, as everyone knows…a cup has its limits. Depending on the circumstances, I would have about a week or two to just be before everything would pile up too high. At that point I would let it run out for a few days. These were just miserable days. My depression days. I’m sure everyone deals with something similar, I’m no different.

At some point, I think in the middle of all my high school shenanigans, I switched it. I became insanely open. Probably so much it’s unhealthy. Now I have more frequent moments of random distress, but I’m naturally smiley and bubbly because of it. It’s never fake. It’s surface level, but genuine all the same.

I wanted a blog because I feel the people in my life don’t really know me as well as they think they do. Maybe if they see a little deeper, they won’t be so shocked when I show bits of true colors.  And yet, I still feel trapped. I’m stuck in this horrible mind set that everything must be censored and image is all important. It was drilled into me since I was little, but maybe I want my dirty laundry sitting out on the line so people know what they’re getting into. Seriously, why is putting up a front so important? Why does reputation even matter? The key to having close friends and being happy is just being yourself and letting people in. Not sharing choice details and flashing a perfect smile. But here I am, with so much to say about my life, and I’m still worried of what all of you will think about me when I’m done. It’s pathetic. You’re not living my life for me, so why should your disdain matter? I’m not fake. A little crazy,and I should probably go get checked out for bipolar disorder, but I’m not fake.

I felt like putting that out there because it needed to be said. And you’ve now received another piece to the Shelby puzzle. Put them together and you get a prize! …maybe..