Booties: Ruche
Necklace: Anthropologie Tassel Wisp Necklace
Earrings: Anthropologie Pinyon Petal Earrings
"And we try in our own way to get better even if we’re alone." - Strand of Oaks
I'm back...with tassels on. It's been awhile, even for me. This has been the longest hiatus I've taken from the blog since I started it almost 5 years ago. 5 years. Damn. Where did the time go? It seems like just yesterday, I was defending myself against a hoard of angry skinny Anthro bitches and trading insults with the likes of the great and powerful GOMI. Ah, those were the days.
It wasn't a planned absence or even an intentional parting of ways. No, it was a slow, gradual decline into the abyss. I lost my zest for life, and I'm just now trying to find it again. Most days, I didn't want to get up in the morning much less blog. I think I've been living in denial about entering this next stage of my life. I mean, who the hell wants to be middle-aged? Who wants to be middle anything for that matter? Middle Class, Middle Child, Middle Finger - they're all bad news. The struggle is real or in my case, surreal.
I want to know just who in the fuck is this old, fat person I'm seeing in the mirror these days. What zest I lost for life, I gained it for food. And who is this moody, deep-voiced, pimply-faced, taller-than-me person who calls me mom and suddenly knows more than me? I don't like this strange new world I find myself in. It's a world full of a stresses - emotional, physical, financial, you name it. Through it all, though, the dresses must flow. By God, the dresses must flow.
I resorted back to old shopping habits to ease the pain, but instead of easing the pain, it just made things worse. As a result, I have a huge stack of items to return to my favorite store, and the huge task of turning my life around. One of the dresses that made the cut is the one in this post. It's just the sort of dress I need in my life right now - easy, comfortable, and fun. A reminder to not think about things so much, to be comfortable in my own skin, and to find the fun in life again.
It wasn't a planned absence or even an intentional parting of ways. No, it was a slow, gradual decline into the abyss. I lost my zest for life, and I'm just now trying to find it again. Most days, I didn't want to get up in the morning much less blog. I think I've been living in denial about entering this next stage of my life. I mean, who the hell wants to be middle-aged? Who wants to be middle anything for that matter? Middle Class, Middle Child, Middle Finger - they're all bad news. The struggle is real or in my case, surreal.
I want to know just who in the fuck is this old, fat person I'm seeing in the mirror these days. What zest I lost for life, I gained it for food. And who is this moody, deep-voiced, pimply-faced, taller-than-me person who calls me mom and suddenly knows more than me? I don't like this strange new world I find myself in. It's a world full of a stresses - emotional, physical, financial, you name it. Through it all, though, the dresses must flow. By God, the dresses must flow.
I resorted back to old shopping habits to ease the pain, but instead of easing the pain, it just made things worse. As a result, I have a huge stack of items to return to my favorite store, and the huge task of turning my life around. One of the dresses that made the cut is the one in this post. It's just the sort of dress I need in my life right now - easy, comfortable, and fun. A reminder to not think about things so much, to be comfortable in my own skin, and to find the fun in life again.
Posts
This dress looks lovely on you, Bonnie, definitely it's your style and those poms-poms are so darn cute.
ReplyDeletep.s. I hope you'll find your mojo soon, do not despair!
Prozac, Lexapro. Work wonders. Or just wallow. Your choice.
ReplyDeleteI've been on 60 mg of Prozac for the last 5 years. Any other sage advice, Sigmund? Pull myself up by my bootstraps? I'll get right on that since it's just a simple choice.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Olya! I can always count on you for a kind comment. Best Reader Award goes to you. :-)
ReplyDeleteMore advice: if you are self-medicating with alcohol, stop. Also speak with your physician about Abilify, Seroquell, Zyprexa or Geodon.
ReplyDeleteMy goodness, Richard. You sure are making a big assumption about me. I don't have a problem with alcohol. However, you know what they say about people who assume...The assumption says more about the person making it.
ReplyDeleteNo, as I said in my post, my poison is dresses of the Anthropologie variety. Not sure if that's any less of a problem than alcoholism, but as I also stated in my post, I'm working on it. Cut a sister some slack. There ain't no miracle drug out there.
Sure there are miracle drugs out there. Obviously, you've chosen "wallow." Enjoy.
ReplyDeleteWell, there are worse things than wallowing. Being a pompous dick comes to mind.
ReplyDeleteSo..let me summarize, if I may: you get all sticky sweet about "darn cute" pom-poms and "do not despair", but advice which might actually save your life, or at least improve the quality of it, is "pompous." Zat right?
ReplyDeleteYes. I know it's hard to believe that a little gal from fried chickenville could survive or even thrive without the help of an oh so smart man who knows about such highly intellectual topics as anti-depressants and the dangers of self-medicating with alcohol. Golly gee willikers, I've never heard of such things! But, pom-poms? For us simple minded folk, darn cute pom-poms might just be the difference between life and death.
ReplyDeleteBut I don't expect you to understand... I suspect you and I could go back and forth for days with this banter. It's probably best if you just stay up there on your mountain and keep your sage advice to yourself. It's just wasted on the likes of me. I'll muck through life the best way I know how, and you can look down from time to time for some much needed validation.
Yes, congratulations. You have successfully figured out my motivations: 1. to be a pompous dick and 2. to get validation. That is indeed the only reason I'd respond to statements like "I lost my zest for life" and " Most days, I didn't want to get up in the morning" and "I resorted back to old shopping habits to ease the pain, but instead of easing the pain, it just made things worse". Whey *else* would anyone respond to those things? I am one sick sonuvabitch. You nailed it. I'm not concerned about you at all. I didn't lay it out in plain facts without all the pretty decorations because it scares me to hear you say these kinds of things. Not at all. No. I only did it because it allowed me an opportunity to be overbearing, pompous and validated. You don't miss a thing, do you?
ReplyDeleteAh, the ole guilt trip as a defense. Well played, but I can play too. I might have a easier time believing your concern if you didn't present mental illness as a choice and use phrases like "just wallow." It's condescending and not helpful. You see what you don't know is I had a nervous breakdown 5 years ago. I had to take a leave of absence from work for over a month because I couldn't leave my house. So, yeah the Prozac is working wonders for me compared to that. Mental illness runs in my family so I know all about these "miracle drugs." I have a cousin who is on them. Sure, he doesn't try to kill himself anymore, but he's an unfeeling zombie. I'll take my Prozac with a side of actually feeling human emotions.
ReplyDeleteI don't like to make generalizations about men and women, but one that I have found that holds true is that men feel a need to fix things. Oftentimes, women just want to vent about their day or tell you about their feelings without a man trying to present the solutions to getting better. We just need a little empathy so we don't feel so alone in our feelings. That's what I try to do on is blog - present something a little more relatable than the nicely packaged lives we see everywhere.
TL/DR: Try a little tenderness. It's the true miracle drug.
I've heard that graphine is the hardest material in the world and that there's a type of red kangaroo that's the highest jumping animal in the world. Graphine has nothing on your head and that kangaroo has nothing on the incredible way you can jump to conclusions. I'm done. Done with this "conversation" and done with you. If you want a final word, it's yours.
ReplyDeleteFunny how you can dish out criticism but you can't take it. It's all fun and games and witty one liners until the little lady speaks up for herself. I could have just kept my damn mouth shut like a good girl or praised you for saving me from myself. I suppose then I wouldn't be accused of being hard headed and jumping to conclusions.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of jumping to conclusions, this all started because you concluded that because my life isn't all unicorns and rainbows I had no basic knowledge of how to treat mental illness or how to help myself. It really pisses me off that people who have never lived with mental illness (because their big fucking egos don't allow for such nonsense) think that those who do suffer from it can just pop a few pills and all is right with the world. Your comments reeked of that smugness. "Take some pills or wallow, babe. Your choice." Well, it ain't that black and white sweetheart. Mental illness is some complicated shit.
Probably for the best that you are moving on. I hate to lose readers over disagreements, but I will never stop defending myself, especially on topics that I am passionate about. I can be a real bitch like that. I understand if you can't handle it.
Hello I have nominated your blog for the Liebster Award. Please, check out this post to learn more about it.http://bit.ly/1DQH21V
ReplyDeleteWhy is a guy looking at your fashion blog?
ReplyDeleteOh lord. You most certainly did NOT offer any advice as a concerned fellow human being. The pompous diagnosis came, I believe, from the short, snide, snarky delivery of her choices, including the last and most helpful and caring, "or just wallow". Which, translated reads like "Waa-waa, poor me. Get some meds into you, already." Fuck off, Richard. And I mean that in the most caring way.
ReplyDeleteHA. Bonnie: 1. Troll: 0.
ReplyDeleteFor real, though. Even if you're drinking moderately, there's no way for you (or your doc) to know if Prozac or anything else is/was working for you. It's just self-sabotage.
ReplyDelete