Ella Fitzgerald

I lie of the floor trying to figure out exactly how I went from a three day long melancholy disposition to the beginnings of feeling better. Ive kept all of my wirtings up to now purely artistic, but that sort of thing isn’t satisfying enough for me to feel better sometimes when the mood hits me. I’ve kept from writing direct things about myself for fear of revealing certain aspects of myself which I am ashamed of. These are things which all human beings feel sometimes but I take it upon myself sometimes to conquer my emotions with logic and reason. I don’t like it sometimes when I get swept up by myself, and when I try and wirte about this it feels like I am reading the pathetic ramblings of an insecure teenager. I am in fact twnty five years of age and somewhat mature, at least I consider myself, for the amount of emotional experience I have felt. It is this constant expectations of myself to be able to conquer negativity through cold logic and indifference which makes it so hard sometimes. I’ve done things in the past which I am ashamed of. Rather I have dealt with certain situations in ways which, looking back made me feel childish. I suppose that when such childish emotions begin to take hold of me again I begin to hate myself for feeling a certain way, and as such nstead of trying to work my way thourhg it I’ve been repressing certain things from shame. This brings me down.

Being down is no crime. It hits everyone from time to time, and as such I feel no shame to tell people that im a little depressed. What is embarrassing to me is trying to admit to myself that the cause.

This is the third Halloween. About two and a half years ago I brokeup a relationship in which I had invested a great deal of emotional energy. The break came at a moment when I was already dealing with a great deal of stress. I was doing a boring internship at the Central bank of west Africa. The jobs sucked and I basically spent three months doing nothing. Not only that but I used to come home to an alcoholic mother with whom I used to have violent arguments. It was a very difficult time for me. My parents were threatening to separate, and I found myself ni a situation, far from home with no human backup. Then two weeks before going home I brokeup with this person, and later found out that our relationship had actually ended ni a blazing flame of lies and betrayals.

Thankfully despite the fact that were do share some of the same friends we hardly see eachother except when fair sized party comes around, and Halloween is a tradition which has not been passed up for several years. Every Halloween I dread seeing this person.

The first year she was there, but I was plastered drunk, and showing off a newly acquired skill as I spun chains with glowsticks attached to them, on the roof of the neighbor. It is a miracle I didn’t fall off the three stories.

The second year, the Halloween party took place at my house, and whilst she didn’t show up out of respect for my space, even though I did not implicitly invite her, I suffered from the same heartwreaching stress. That evening we lost and Xbox, an Ipaq, and a digital camera. It was a bad year.
Now the last few days I’ve been fearing the same thing. Ive been attributing the stress to a combination of my medical condition taking longer to heal than I would like, combined with random arguments with my father, but thinking back on it I think the stress was probably there to being with and these inconvenciences just aggravated the situation rather than being the actual cause which I was depseratly trying to put to it.

That being said I forced myself to go to this gathering even though a large part of me didn’t want to. I may have brought some people down in the process with my horrible mood, but I guess I knew deep down that this was something I had to do. Sure enough she was there and for the first time in two years I went up and said hello. I gave the two kisses and made about a minute or two of random small talk. I guess that was my way of saying… I don’t know what I was trying to say. Maybe just that it’s ok. I’ve finally let go of my hate. But if I did why was I so anxious? And why after the hour that I spent, when I decided it was time to leave, when I said goodbye to her again in the same way I had said hello. Why do I suddenly feel better? I know I’ve accomplished something important, but I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it will come to me in time. In the mean while it feels good to feel relaxed again. Until next year. I hope I’ll feel better next time round.

I know those to threw the party are going to read this. I’m sorry I had you guys worried for me. I know my reaons for being weird are childish.. But all selfishness aside the evening was a productive one for me.


I’m not going to reread this. I’m not going to edit it or spell check. I’d rather leave this is in its natural state.