I'm sorry if my last few entries have seemed less than clear. I guess my emotions have been sort of drifting in a sea of conflicting thoughts, so I haven't been as lucid, as I would like.
To be clear: I am moving to Saint Louis. I'll be moving this coming weekend (the 17th) of July.
My mom's boyfriend stopped by today to drop off some boxes my mom had been collecting for me at her office, and to give me some money so I could put some time on my phone. Since he came by, and was going that direction anyway to leave I asked him to drop me off at Radio Shack.
I bought some time for my phone, and then walked across the street and bought 2 of the MickyDee's cheeseburgers for $2. Nothing had ever tasted so good in my life. It's junk food. And it's cheap. But it was good. And sometimes it's simple little things like that, that can make a person, feel like a person.
I think I've felt so not human. So ashamed, so just.. depressed and desperate and anxious about my condition, that I forgot that what I'm going through -- happens to other people.
That there are far worse things than needing to move back in with your folks for a while to get back on your feet. From what I can tell -- this is a common problem which is effecting millions of Americans right now.
I guess I just expected more for myself than this. I wanted more for myself than this. Admitting I need to take a step back, and give up control over my life for a little while, is really .. humbling?
Yeah, I guess that's putting it sort of mildly. I don't know why as humans it's our nature to think that "bad things" only happen to "other" people, and never to us. Maybe it's because Americans are suppose to be resilient. We're suppose to pick ourselves up by our bootstraps when something knocks us down, and continue to run in the rat race.
What the Fuck Ever.
Seriously.
I'm tired of living my life with all these expectations. I put so much pressure on myself. But it's pressures everyone else puts on me too. I'm not pretty enough, I'm not thin enough, I'm a good writer, but not that good. I'm not married so I am a failure. I'm not a mom, so I am a failure. I'm not rich. I don't own my own home. Or my own car. So I am a failure.
Seriously.
Advertisements, hallmark cards, our families, public education, the gossip section at supermarkets, tabloids, entertainment television..
It's all trying to tell us what rotten people we are, and how our lives will just be perfect if we lose 20lbs, or buy that car we really can't afford.
It's all sort of bullshit.
I'm a good person. I'm funny. I'm smart. Every once in a while I laugh so hard that I snort. I believe there is a God -- and I have an active relationship with him, even though I almost never go to Church. I love my cat, and I love my family -- flawed though we all are sometimes.
I live a reasonably good life, even if it's not remarkable.
I just don't want to be sad any more. Or feel sorry for myself any more.
I'm getting a fresh start here. I'm getting to wipe the slate, if not clean -- almost clean, and start my life over. This is my reset button.
I need to not let my "realistic" side, and "debbie downer" side of myself ruin this for me.
I need to try to be happy -- and enjoy my life -- even if it's not perfect. Cause hell, it's the only one I've got.
My internet should run out sometime this week. Maybe as soon as tomorrow maybe not til later. I'll try to keep this updated if I can.
And if not, I'll write again once I land safely in Saint Louis.
8:54 PM - 07.11.2010
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