11 May 2012

sometimes.

sometimes, bad things happen. sometimes, bad things are caused by people.

sometimes, we can't determine whether people who cause bad things are actually bad people. but, sometimes, it doesn't matter if they're bad people or not. their status as good or evil is irrelevant. they caused you pain, and therefore they will forever remain, for you, enshrouded in a blanket of...bad. dark. scary.

sometimes, these people go away for a time. and then, sometimes, they come back.

sometimes it is all you can do to hold yourself together. sometimes, you relive the bad when the thought crosses your mind that you may, one day, cross paths with this person once again.

sometimes this thought makes you cry. and unable to sleep. and then you blog about it at 5:30 in the morning.

sometimes you need someone to tell you that it is going to be okay, when you have no idea how anything could ever be 'okay' again.

sometimes, you become that person, telling yourself that it will be okay when you have no idea how it ever could be. 'okay,' that is.

sometimes, your only other choice is to give up. but you aren't ready to give up. so you tell yourself, 'it will be okay.'

and then, sometimes, you go to sleep. and dream of a life in which it is. 'okay.'

bye for now.

09 May 2012

my favorite things.

i have vices. everybody has vices.

one of these vices of mine is brown and bubbly and is best when it comes in a can.

i am addicted to dr. pepper.

this addiction has been made evident over the past ten days, wherein i have been staying at my mom's house. my mom also has a dr. pepper addiction. as such, there is always dr. pepper in her pantry. i wake up, walk to the pantry, open a can, take a sip, sigh with relief, and go about my day. before work, i grab a can, open, sip, sigh, and make my way to work. after work, i repeat the cycle. then i sleep, wake up, and start all over.

i measure my life in cans of dr. pepper.

what's your vice?

bye for now.

08 May 2012

firework.

do you ever reach a point in your life where you have so much to say to a person that you risk verbally vomiting all over them any time you open your mouth to speak in their presence?

so much to say. so much to say.

and i can't say any of it.

this is what i do when i'm not sleeping. i think about all the things i want to say to people. when i am sleeping, i'm dreaming about these things.

one day i'm going to explode. it cannot be predicted whether this explosion will result in happiness or misery, though my bet is on misery. but it's nice to hope for it to be happiness.

bye for now.

06 May 2012

somebody, save my life.

i...have a problem.

this particular problem is a mixture of social anxiety, paranoia, and heightened fear of both success and failure.

example: i have impulses that are difficult to control. sometimes these impulses are wanting to smoke. sometimes they are wanting a dr. pepper. regardless of the impulse, whether or not i act on them is determined by how those around me will react to me acting on said impulse. i can drink a can of dr. pepper with little to no ridicule from those around me. if i say the word, "cigarette," i get looks of disappointment, followed by lectures. so, whether or not i do things is based on how others will react. if i can explain what i've done to others without somehow disappointing them. or if i can hide what i've done, altogether.

i was seeing a therapist, about two months ago. i saw said therapist four times, i believe. maybe only three. either way, it isn't important. was is important, is that i stopped. i stopped, because it became increasingly more difficult to explain to other people what i was doing for the three hours it took me to ride the bus to the office, have my session, and ride the bus home. i panicked about what other people would think, and i stopped going.

this is bad, because i really do need help. and the longer i wait to get help, the worse things get. the more wall off myself from the rest of the world, and retreat inside my head (which, as i've mentioned before, is not a good place to be). case in point, i've been staying at my mom's for a week, now. it's great. i get to spend most of my day in a familiar space, without having to interact with anyone i don't know. the people with whom i do interact are some of the only people i still feel safe around. it's a great set-up. minus the fact that i'm avoiding interacting with anyone i don't feel comfortable around. though, i must admit, i do enjoy the baking materials at my disposal.

anywho. i was supposed to start therapy again, friday. i didn't go, because i couldn't figure out a way to explain to my brother why i needed to borrow the car, without coming clean. and...my brother isn't the type to be cool with therapy. doctors, okay. prescriptions...acceptable. therapy? get over it. at least, that's what i perceive. i could be completely wrong. but, i don't want to find out, either way. i'm terrified. so. i didn't go to my appointment. i actually slept through my alarm, and didn't call to cancel. i should've, but i didn't. now, i need to call and reschedule my appointment. however, i'm terrified of calling, and having to explain why i missed my appointment on friday. my heart beat is increasing, just thinking about it. not in a good way.

so, yeah. i'm stuck. i'm scared out of my mind, and i know i can't get through this on my own, but i'm both too proud and too terrified to ask for and seek out the help i need. lovely, isn't it. if you have any questions, comments, suggestions, sarcasm...they'd be greatly appreciated.

bye for now.