Chapter 2: In Which Everything is Overwelming and I Lose My Mind But in a Good Way


21688163_130984047636455_2539152691532689769_oY’all, I’m tiiiiiired. Or at least I was a few days ago. My jet lag set in after 5 days, which was later than I’d expected. It sucks. I think it’s gone now, as I’ve been here for 8 days and my sleep schedule is finally back to normal.

I’ll tell you this for free, though: it’s awkward realizing you did not try hard enough in your college Spanish classes, and winning the foreign language award for your high school’s graduating class in 2011 does not a fluent Spanish speaker make.

So yep. I’m tired. And I like the food but it’s also so strange? And they eat so much of it at lunch, which is at 2:30 in the afternoon…so I suddenly understand why siestas are a thing. After eating ninety potatoes, who wouldn’t need to rest? Can I just have a permanent beach siesta, please? I don’t want to walk. I don’t even want to breathe. I just want to lay here and listen to the little Spanish children running around in the street saying things I don’t understand. I like doing this, because I don’t have to try to understand them. Their words just float through one ear and land gently in my brain before floating out the other.

But honestly, I’m having a good time. I get to see the ocean every day, and I can actually swim in it. I’m taking a break from being vegetarian so I can try new foods, and I’m accidentally remembering how much I like chicken. Oops. I’ve always kinda hated palm trees, but they look nice here, and some of them are super short and squat and it’s adorable. There are old, beautiful, colorful tiles on some of the buildings and in the parks, and even the pigeons look different here. The dogs here are goofy, sometimes — I saw one man walking 8 chihuahuas at once the other night and took a photo because I’m the biggest tourist ever. I had the song California Dreamin’ stuck in my head all morning, and this afternoon someone drove by blasting it. A few days ago, some random woman was holding a bunny in her arms and yelling across the street at her friends. God knows why, but now I want to move here and start a bunny commune with my friends. This morning, I watched a man hardcore reel in a fish off the pier whilst smoking a cigar. All the flies in this entire country have decided they love me and want to make little fly houses in my hair, on my arms, and in my water glasses. Every. Single. Fly. Yesterday, one day after I’d mentioned I’d never been pooped on by a bird, a little tiny one decided to make my left arm its toilet. I guess I’ll try anything once, but I’d rate the experience 2/10, would not recommend.

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My Mind: The Ultimate Three Ring Circus


Help.

To the blogging community (and everyone else out there, I guess): I have gone completely insane. My blogs from now until eternity will probably contain an edge of bitterness and cynicism that should not not not not not be there. Why?

Cuz I’m insane. Didn’t I already mention that?
Prepare for a ramble-fest.

My mind runs in too many circles. Props to GirlOnTheContrary for writing a similar post earlier (except not, cuz she didn’t say she’s mentally unstable, just has a crazy jumbled/crowded brain). Anyway, my mind is like a circus ring. I’m pretty sure there are elephants romping around, too. And these aren’t cute Dumbo elephants. They’re angry elephants on crack.
Don’t give elephants crack. It’s damaging to my…me-ness.

I feel like jumping around and screaming. Actually, I already did that (and blasted some Strokes and sang along until I practically passed out). Maybe I feel like doing it again.

Nothing happens to actually make me this way. I just become this way. And while I’d really like to blame it on my period, I already did a post about that…no repeat material here. I become this way because every little teeny tiny inconsequential thing that ever happens to me is immediately analyzed and then stored to the back of my brain for further analysis at random points throughout my life.

This blog is getting entirely too personal for my liking. Onward.

One time, I held hands with someone’s boyfriend. It wasn’t meant to be romantic, because I didn’t like the guy that way and it was kind of a joke but then it turned out to not feel like a joke because I liked it. Then I felt guilty for like 2 weeks because of it.
I’m not the boyfriend stealing type. There was no reason for me to feel guilty, really. I didn’t do anything, I didn’t plot to steal him away from her, I didn’t do it again, and I definitely hadn’t started it. But I couldn’t stop thinking.

One time, someone told me all their problems and that they felt sad about life (hmm, like I’m doing to you). I carried those problems around for a month before I totally flipped out and told them we couldn’t be friends anymore.
Why? Cuz I felt like cutting myself every time I heard about their sadness.
Probably not the right way to deal.

ONE TIME, I accidentally acted uninterested in what someone had to say. Then I analyzed every possible bad feeling they could’ve felt as a consequence of me not saying nice things to them. And then I felt terrible.

I don’t want to be the person who says, “I’m always so nice to everyone and I’m so empathetic that it’s just a huge burden on me.” But sometimes I am. The empathetic part, that is.
See, my point is to make everyone happy and laugh and whatnot. And while sometimes I can be really mean and sometimes I’m hard to deal with, I feel guilty about it about 3 seconds later. But because I am completely crap at communicating my feelings when I’m upset in any way, I end up making it worse. Or just sounding like an idiot.

And then I get super emotional and tell people things I shouldn’t. Like right now. But I think maybe you should know that:
One time, my brain exploded because I overthought everything until I went crazy.