E R I O A N A D I A Z
Nana has max for the weekend,she’s the best. House to ourselves its a ciroc kinda night with my loves ;)
Blame it on my past, but I’m really tired of going out every weekend. And having to clean my slate off for the remainder of the week until it’s time to repeat the same cycle again. I’ve been through it all, really. Junior-Senior year mostly. Coming home at 5 in the morning getting dropped off by dudes. Disruptingly stumbling to my front door with loud knocks so my mom can open the door cause my house key was taken away for this exact reason. Too fucked up to look my mom straight in the eyes, and my mom coughing from the smell of weed and alcohol all on my clothes and hair. Not giving a care, I would just go plop down on my bed and knock the fuck out. She never said anything the next day and that honestly killed me more than getting a huge lecture and yelling from her. One night I was sneaking out at 2 in the morning to meet up with some homies. I was creeping past her window and I heard her sobbing. It froze me. I couldn’t really decipher what was going on for a few, long minutes. I just stood there. Knowing my mom was a smart person, she knew what I was up to. I just circled the block for a half an hour and went back home and never went to sleep that night. I thought about what this temporary ‘fun’ was really leading my life to. The consequences, and taking a toll on my relationship with my mom. I stopped going out for a while. I lost a lot of friends and I definitely changed my act. For the better. I was too young. I was naive, I was foolish. But I felt that was when I started to mature. I knew I had to get my shit together. Ever since then, I put family above anything. Too short of a life to live without them.
I can’t sleep again. There’s too much on my mind and not enough space. I don’t know. I feel like I’m wasting time. I keep deleting the words but more so the letters. And nothing is really coming together. I mean in the moment and life in general. I’ve been having the same thoughts for a while now. They never lead anywhere. I don’t know. Everything feels repetitive and I’m not sure how to break this cycle, not sure how to shake this off. I’m trying to change, but I’m falling back into old habits at the same time. I keep building up momentum only to lose it the next day. And I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m not going anywhere with this, talking in circles again.
You have no idea.
No idea.
Finally got the baby to sleep.👍😊Time for grown up time😘 (Taken with instagram)
🍸🍻!! (Taken with instagram)
Immortals/ theatre room. (Taken with instagram)
I love these boys!💙💙 (Taken with instagram)
Mango slices with chili. I can die happy now! (Taken with instagram)
Frustration… (Taken with instagram)
I’ve always hesitated to actually write my thoughts down here. Even though my sole purpose of creating this second public blog was to let strangers have a feel of another stranger’s life and possibly relate. But after getting followers that I knew/have spoken to before, I always felt like I was more prone to being judged and therefore kept my thoughts enclosed. That’s why I feel like 5 in the morning is the safest to write because I know a very few people are up to read what I post. But at the end of the day, it’s the judger not the judged that are frowned upon, right?
With that being said, the most frequent and reoccurring topic that’s been running through my head is my very own mother. I wish we could have a normal conversation from time to time. One that doesn’t require nagging, or belittling me for something I have/haven’t done. I’ve come to the conclusion that she complains to at least have something to say to me. Cause we are two people that could go a week without talking if there’s nothing important or worthy of being said. Often times when I’m sitting at the table, I look over at her and half the time I notice her looking back at me and we make eye contact. It’s a little awkward. And we just look back to what we were doing prior. Mother-daughter relationships aren’t supposed to be like that.
I remember this one time when I lived with one of my ex’s. I left home for a few good months because I couldn’t bare the sight of my parents constant fighting. I never got any phone calls from home. I was never told to come back home. I had given up on anything left of a family we had. It was dysfunctional. So dysfunctional I surrounded myself with my ex’s family and never wanted to leave. They welcomed me in. Spent Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years there. January 3rd, I got a phone call. It was my mom. She was the last person I thought I’d hear from. She was hard-headed and stubborn and was the kind of person that never spoke up first. I remember I picked up and felt the need to start bawling right then and there and tried to hold it in so hard. She started repeating my name and it felt so warm and welcoming. Nothing like when others would say my name. “I hope you’re okay. Don’t think I don’t care.” “I’m sorry you had to grow up this way.” That’s all she said. I hung up and I cried myself to sleep that night. I came home within the next few days. She never criticized me or nagged me for leaving. She just acted as if nothing happened.
Chicken tacos & fideo!!😍😁 (Taken with instagram)
👯 (Taken with instagram)
❤ (Taken with instagram)
Mortal kombat! 👊💪 (Taken with instagram)
