I just wanna be happy. So tonight I'm not going to write anything mopey or angry.
I'm just going to smile, and crawl into bed.
12:04 AM - 11.06.2010
I've always wanted to be one of those people who didn't care what other people thought. But the truth is, I've always been one of those people who worried what other people think. There is so much head-space taken up by obsessions with things like my weight, the amount of money I have, my living situation, etc which makes me crazy because I worry what other people think of me.
I spend so much time trying to be what everyone wants me to be, all the while knowing secretly, that I will never ever ever be what everyone wants me to be. Even if I lose a bunch of weight, and am skinny and gorgeous, I'll still feel that sense of loneliness which sinks in at the strangest times.
I can have tons of friends, and still feel lonely. I can love my mom and still feel lonely. I feel lonely because so much of my life is spent inside my head, isolated from other people. I find myself playing a perpetual game of hide in seek in which I am constantly trying to hide from other people's expectations and desires for me.
I would rather just hide, then have to tell people things like "no" or "go away" or "you really fucking hurt me, and I'm mad at you right now". Instead I just do things I don't want to do, pretend I don't care when I do, and feel as if no one understands me.
It's fucking exhausting, is what it is. I miss my ex boyfriends, but I am pretty sure they don't miss me, and also pretty sure that they're all shits. Every last one of them. It doesn't matter how I color them, or choose to remember them.
That just makes the loneliness hurt more though. Saying stuff like that. Admitting that I feel unlovable and horrible most of the time.
I'm not fucking worthless, but I treat myself like I am. And when I am doing well for myself, healing a few of my wounds -- letting them scab over, and almost not caring.
Some jackass has to say something, that makes me feel like a loser all over again.
There's a new boy in my life. He's a wounded duck just like me. He thinks he's a loser, and he's been rejected by so many women .. and he's clinging to me cause he's trying to make a break from his last mind-fuck of a half relationship.
He doesn't love me. He doesn't even really know me. But he's lonely and he needs someone to hold him. Part of me wants to hold him, because I'm lonely and I miss holding someone.
And the other part of me wishes I could hide from him too. Hide from his neediness. Hide from the way looking at him, is like looking at a really painful mirror, and not liking what I see.
It's all too much to take fucking seriously. But I know I can't hide from him forever. And I know I will give in, and let the waves wash over me. I just hope I don't drowned.
I'm writing again. Writing a book. I have characters and plot swirling in my head. I have unwritten dialog, and wishful dreams. And it's nice to be in that head-space for a while. Thinking about fictitious people's problems.
Part of me feels a little mad really, having conversations in my head with people who aren't real. My feelings are close to the surface though, and I'm in touch with them.
For all the good it does me.
I'm tired of being fat, and sleeping on my mom's couch. I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself, and having no place to go. I miss my kitty, and I know things are changing, but I don't think they're changing fast enough.
Living with my mom again has both brought up my insecurities again. My mom is so competent at everything, and she likes things done, just so -- so that when I don't please her, I feel like I'm a failure. I don't know, it's hard to explain. She sounds like a nightmare of a mom, but she's really not, she's great.
It's just .. I'm not great.
Sometimes I just want to get out of here. I want to have my own place and my own apartment again. Then I think about the cold Wisconsin winter, and walking around in the cold with no money, and I realize that I can't go back to that life .. that I need to press on here.
I just hope things begin to make sense again soon.
1:38 AM - 11.05.2010
I'm tired. I had trouble sleeping last night -- I had a bad headache and a stomache ache for much of the night. Even taking meds barely took the edge off the pain. When I wasn't feeling physically sick, my heart ached. It ached for the boy whose birthday is today.
It ached for all the lost chances, and coulda shoulda wouldas but will never be. It ached because I am tired of feeling alone, and tired of feeling sad. It ached because my future is uncertian, but once again I feel the gnawing pressure of time slipping away from me, and money running out.
It aches because it feels like what I want to do with my life, what I want -- can't ever be mine. And I am tired of feeling like a loser who never gets the guy, the job, the life that I want.
Mostly I ache because I am sick of feeling sorry for myself -- and I feel ready for change yet ironically unable to act. All those chances I had before I didn't take -- when acting was an option, and now that I am ready I am not sure the chance will really present itself.
Fucking irony. Fucking stupid.
Just ugh.
I'm cranky, and tired, and missing him, even though I hate him. I wish things could be different. I wish he weren't an ass. I wish I weren't a push over and I wish to god things didn't always get so cluster fucked.
The one positive in all of this -- is that I finally know what I want to do. And I've been taking slightly better care of myself. Working out a little bit more everyday.
Yay progress.
Boo everything else.
10:28 AM - 10.19.2010
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