Today was one of those days where I did absolutely nothing.
Literally nothing.
I lay in bed, endlessly scrolling through Instagram reels, ate a ton, took a long bath, and enjoyed a stress-free day—so much so that I limited myself to just two cigarettes. That, in itself, was a win.
I spent some time in introspection today. I’m in a long mourning period now; it’s been a month. I wouldn’t blame myself—just when I thought I was moving on from one heartbreak, another hit me, and I sank back into mourning. My low energy and detachment even made me feel like I sabotaged an important interview.
I’ve picked up a few vices along the way:
Smoking, eating too much junk, skipping workouts, sleeping until noon…
Among others that I’m still hesitant to write about. I promise that one day I’ll give each vice its own blog post.
But today, I’ve decided to get back to a routine—fix my sleep schedule, return to the gym, eat healthier, and finally quit smoking.
It might sound surprising, but that’s how I used to live.
Personal issues can really fuck everything up.
When I was younger, I cared more about my professional life—I even remember praying to God that I could fight with my boyfriend all I wanted, as long as I never made a faux pas at work.
Now, most of my validation comes from my personal life. A good, healthy relationship makes me feel confident and alive, and yes, I can be a little snobbish about it too.
I see myself as a dreamer who creates her own reality and lives in it.
Sometimes, though, I’m so oblivious to the truth that I ignore the signs my body sends me.
It’s been far too long since I’ve been single.
I started dating at 16, had two serious relationships, and a bunch of flings—though, in retrospect, some of those “flings” felt quite serious at the time.
So here I am, single at 34—I just turned 34 earlier this year. It’s been a shitty year; I was supposed to get married in January, and now, a month later, I’m trying to pick myself up and embrace being single.
I really want to be alone for a while.
I already have people who want to date me, but I’m still grieving my ex and don’t want to rush into something new.
I don’t think I’ve learned how to grieve properly—how to sit with my feelings instead of escaping them.
I’m an escapist.
I desperately search for short-term distractions from pain—smoking, Bumble dates, even a hookup that left me feeling utterly empty.
Now, I’m determined to mend my ways and learn to be with myself in a structured manner.
This blog is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m starting it at one of the lowest points in my life, and yet the thought of writing fills me with excitement.
Words flow easily when I write—they capture all my thoughts, my truth, and the raw chaos inside me. I’ve never been this honest, not even with myself.
When I type, I peer into my soul, seeing my flaws and strengths with stark clarity.
There’s immense peace in the sound of my keys.
~ Jenny Rasa
