I’m having a really hard time acknowledging the things that I’m addicted to. When I force myself to sit down and take a good hard look at them, I see them and can acknowledge the fact that they have more power over me than they should. Yet, I still fail to see this a lot in my day to day life.

Even worse than that, something inside of me keeps whispering ‘You’ve got this.’

I don’t ‘have this.’

I don’t have it at all.

I wouldn’t be so fucked up if I did.

I’ve found myself, recently, consumed. I waste hours upon hours of my life on something that’s temporary at best. Even when I say I’m disconnecting from it, I’m only ever pretending.

I’m constantly looking for and thinking about my next hit.

I’m missing out on my own life.

It’s like I’ve disconnected from my life and plugged into this other one with a me that I barely recognize. I can pretend all I want, but it’s not my life. It’s not.

I’m wasting time. I’m wasting my life. I stand in front of the mirror and I don’t recognize myself anymore.

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know whose life this is that I’m pacifically sifting through.

It’s hit me that the addiction I have with the things I do with/for the boys I know is completely out of control.

I thought I had a grip on it, but I don’t.

Originally I intended to keep it all private, but I think there’s strength in writing it down. It becomes more permanent and harder for me to deny.

I can analyze the hell out of myself but at the end of the day, there are things that have happened that were completely beyond my control. My dad dying was out of my control. What happened between Amy and I is out of my control. Laura and Emily falling in love is out of my control. What happened between Emily and I is out of my control.  I cannot manipulate time and change how I behaved. I cannot go back and show Amy, Laura, or Emily anything other than what was. These are not things that I have control over at this point. They are what they are and it’s too late for me to do anything about it.

I’m living life on life’s terms and no matter how much I hate it, there are things that exist outside of my control. There are moments gone that I will never get back. I cannot change what’s happened, only move forward making the best of what I’m given.

After doing more thinking and analyzing I’ve come to some conclusions.

I’ve never felt like I was ever really important or special. I always felt like my presence on earth was unnecessary. That, without me nothing in this world would be any different. Lives wouldn’t be affected, people wouldn’t be moved. I don’t make good grades. I’m not pretty, or attractive. I’m not motivated. I’m not good at anything in particular. I’m not talented.

I worry a lot about being alone, so I thrust myself upon people (relationships and friendships) so that I don’t have to be alone with myself. My problem is that I’m not okay with who I am.

I seek attention, affection, and other things from other people. I’m driven to please others.

I worry that something is so wrong with me that I will end up completely alone for the rest of my life. I believe myself to be less than deserving of any kind of love.

The discomfort with myself has manifest itself into cutting, but beyond that the emotional damage has been far superior. I’ve spent nights crying and feeling so shitty about who I am that I can’t sleep or eat the next day. I carve emotional wounds into myself.

My low self esteem has impacted my relationships with people in devastating ways. I expect more out of people than I should, and less out of myself than I should. I strain relationships.

I’ve tried to blame it on other things that end up making me angry and bitter. I blame the pain on people leaving me. I blame the strained relationship with Emily on the fact that she and Laura fell in love. I push blame everywhere but on myself, and it tears the wounds even wider.

The most difficult part to accept is that my triggers for this self hate are every where. I tried to tell myself that it would get better once I wasn’t exposed to so many triggers. It’s been difficult for me to realize that there will always be triggers for my affliction. Every friendship that I have, every one I know who is in love or who is unique in some way… they’re all around me.

They’re hard to get away from and it makes this even harder to overcome.

Life isn’t what I want it to be and it doesn’t work the way I want it to. I cannot control the fact that triggers are everywhere for me. And, it’s no one’s fault but my own that these things cause such discomfort in me.

So, that’s my first step. I’m going to spend a little while pondering these and then be back for step two.

Anyway, I wish that it was later so that I could go to bed. It’s still too bright for me to sleep properly now and I’d screw up my schedule if I did. I’ve been getting up around 7 every morning and it’s wonderful. I wake up gently from the sunlight in my room and feel more refreshed. It’s nice because it gives me lots of time in the morning to be slow and lazy. I don’t feel so rushed now.

I’m really enjoying the new apartment I’ve moved to. The complex is surrounded by trees that seem to block out the rest of greensboro. Every time I drive home from work I feel like I’m headed into my own little retreat. It’s really nice.

I wanted to blog more, but I can’t really remember what it was I wanted to say. More later, perhaps.

It’s been my first proper evening and soon to be night at the apartment. Alex has been over a lot and I was out of town on Saturday night. Today though, I’ve been on my own since about 3.

These couple of weeks are going to be difficult, but I think that I’m going to be okay. An hour ago my anxiety was sky high. But, I cried a little bit and then looked up some advice online. Now I’m better. I’m still a little unsettled but there’s a calm that has replaced the anxiety for the most part.

It’s really hard for me to grasp the fact that these things do pass. That it’s not going to feel like this forever. Someone told me not too long ago that part of anxiety is stressing over ‘anticipated feelings.’ I’ve been trying hard today to not be anxious just because I think I would (or should) be.

I feel like these next two weeks are going to be an opportunity to really get to know myself.

I’ll post more about that later. Need to get something to eat.

Love to all.

It’s not like I haven’t been preparing for this since february. It’s not like this was suddenly thrust upon me with no warning. I knew it would happen. I knew this was how she had decided things would go.

Still, it hurts. I’m still scared that this is the beginning of a complete and utter end to any friendship whatsoever.

These next two (ish) weeks are going to be hell. I need to get out of this apartment and into the new one. One that I can come back to without being reminded of what a shitty person I am.

What’s funny is every time I’m here I get bombarded with happy memories. Nothing I’ve dwelt on the last day or so has been bad. It’s all really happy, positive stuff.

Yet it’s that stuff that hurts the most. We had good times, all of us. Honestly tuesday night was probably the best night we’ve had together (for me at least) in a long ass time.

I just wish I didn’t feel so tossed aside. I’m gonna keep doing my part to keep in touch and stay friends, but I can’t say that I’m not just a little scared that I’ve been completely replaced by m.

I am thinking though that all of this emotional crap has a lot to do with the fact that it’s a) change and b) the week before my period. Pray for me. Pray that I will get through this week and see if it’s not better after I start.

I’m not going to tell you what I feel about it.

I won’t let it slip what’s going on behind my eyes.

You think you know? You have no fucking clue.

I’ll lie in ways you didn’t think possible.

You’ve already lied your ass off to me, so I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for pushing you to arms length.

m’kay, back to Bud.

you fake it ’till you make it.

why was i born, God. what were you thinking?

seriously. what was He thinking?

am i the only one who wakes up in the morning and wishes they had never been born? i’m not trying to be overly dramatic. maybe i’m the only one, but i have these moments where i wonder about my purpose, or, seriously question whether or not i actually have one.

am i the only one who wishes they were someone else? had a different personality?

i’m thinking about something Laura said just a little bit ago. i wanted to tell her that it’s not okay for me to go hang out and be the quiet person that i am. i wanted to tell her that it’s not okay for me to be … well, me.

quiet people don’t make friends and can’t keep them. quiet people are lonely. quiet people don’t make good impressions on people.

if i go to hang out and be myself, then i’m a tagalong. people start to wonder why i even bothered. i start to wonder why i even bothered.

if i have learned nothing else the last three years it’s that all the talk of “being yourself” is bullshit. i’ve been myself and it’s taken me in the complete opposite way i wanted to go. i want more friends, not less of them. i want people to like me, not hate me.

i’d really like to get to know Nikki, but i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me. i have to change who i am to make friends.

i’ve grown up hearing “just be yourself.” what they don’t tell you is that they have the kinds of personalities that people like. what about the rest of us? the quiet ones that are more reserved? we’re ourselves and it gets us no where.

i’ve always wondered why God created me. i wonder why He created me the way that i am. personally i think there are some design flaws, but who am i to say?

all i know is who i am isn’t good enough. it’s not good enough to make (or keep) people happy and it’s not enough to make myself happy. i could, quite possibly, be good enough for God. but that doesn’t exactly help me in this whole friends department.

i just… i can’t quite figure out how i’m suppose to go against who i am.

I can easily picture God angry, disappointed, or frustrated. Actually, I have an almost permanent image in my head of God’s face twisted into a combination of the three.

When I’m crying with God, I often see God’s face contorted into those of my parent’s. Sometimes it’s my father’s “Just be quiet already” face. Other times it’s my mother’s “I have too much on my own plate to deal with you” face.

A lot of the time I see “you are too much to deal with” behind the eyes that I imagine to be God’s. I see them filled with flashes of anger and irritation.

I think that I’ve got this whole thing wrong.

What if God is laughing in heaven when I’m down here giggling uncontrollably?  Does God smile down at me when I’m beside myself with excitement?

What if when I cried God was laying beside me and watching me with eyes of reassurance?

And, what if I’ve never been too much to handle for God.

How would things change if my imagined eyes of God were filled with love, calm, and confidence instead of anger and irritation?

Am I crazy to ask God to sit with me while I watch Reba on TV? Is it stupid for me to want God to be with me in these moments, as little and as petty as they are?

Something to think about.