In the nick of time

I had a month-long streak of general happiness, only to be shot to shit by my stupid ex-boyfriend and a sudden cropping up of loneliness and fights with practically everyone I know. I don't know why everything can't just go right for once.

Death's second self

I feel so overwhelmed. I'm in another fight with my mom, and she continues to call me everyday because I suppose she just hasn't gotten the message that I don't want to talk to her. And I feel that now that she doesn't have two kids in her face every day, who are tucked away at college, she feels like she has the perfect life now and has no actual interest in my life or my problems. She doesn't show sympathy or comfort when I blatantly ask for it, she doesn't remember anything that I tell her. She's more interested and more invested in the lives of her boyfriend's children, my step-siblings, than mine. And maybe its because I've been a more difficult child over the past few years, maybe because she sees stability in their lives and chaos and destruction in ours. And this weekend brought with it a few hard-hitting events for me, and she doesn't even know about them, because she doesn't care enough to ask, and she doesn't want to open my emotional pit, because it always comes spitting out on her.

I may be 19, I may be a legal adult, but I still need a mother.

The way things are.

Almost a whole month has gone by in the space of what feels like just two weeks. I have been constantly dealing with one stress or another, training at my job and having fun there and feeling like I belong somewhere, pushing myself harder than ever to get a washboard stomach and mastering my latest yoga pose, and playing catch up with all of my classes. I feel so off-balance, I feel like at any moment I might just disappear in the blink of an eye. I'd have never thought that simply living day to day was this difficult.

Rose-tinted eyes.

It's been a whirlwind rollercoaster of a week, and I'm glad it's over. I had almost admitted defeat of finding a job this semester, when as I as signing the paper telling the University to hold my work study money until next semester, someone mentioned that a position had literally just opened up at the library. I jumped on it, and got the job. A few hours later, I had a three hour long panic attack because my mother doesn't know how to deal with me and makes all my emotions worse rather than better. I'm so scared that my life is not going to be perfect.

Chelsea and Taylor might be stopping by on Sunday, which is nice. I feel like I need this weekend to recover and catch up and prepare for the onslaught that is next week. It's a three-day week, which you'd think would be easy, except for I have two midterms to study for and I start work at the library. Thursday after work I am going home, and I cannot wait to be all alone with my mom and cats again.

Mourning.

My desperate job search is coming to a close. I have to have a job by tomorrow, and by the looks of things, I am going to be without one for the semester. I've let myself down tremendously, as this was one of my main goals of this semester- to have an income, to not be so financially dependent on my parents and call them every week to put money in my account for pills. I've found myself wondering lately, What is the point of being here? Why am I here, when I am clearly not cultivating a better me, when I am just going through the motions of living in a place where I clearly do not belong? I don't know where I belong right now. I don't know how I can still be dreaming of studying abroad when simply living two states away from my friends and family is a disabling anxiety to me.

I can't make you love me.

This has been a high-stress, high anxiety week, as I wish more and more that I were home and seeing my friends thrive at their schools while I am clearly drowning, isolating myself with schoolwork and that natural Massachusetts way of ignoring everyone on the street or to give them all dirty looks. I don't mean to, I try to be friendly, I try to make conversation, I try and try and try and all these things and expectations are built up and I crumble underneath. I cannot handle the stress, I cannot handle where I am in my life right now.

I've been reflecting a lot on my ex-boyfriend this week, thinking about what happened and what I did wrong. But I realized, just as I had blamed him for not being mature enough to handle our relationship, neither was I. I couldn't take his word when he said he loved me, it wasn't enough for me. I wanted big, fancy, grand expressions of adoration, something that he was not capable of and I knew it and I shouldn't have expected it of him. Its been almost a year since our split, and I still miss him a lot. But I need to let go of his memory, I need to stop nurturing and protecting it. I am so young, and I have a lot more broken hearts to collect.

Blood or Block.

I went into this year thinking that This is it: This will be my year. I would make lots of friends, keep on top of all my homework, go to clubs and get a job, and still have time to breathe. Or, maybe I wouldn't want to breathe, because I was enjoying it all so much. This year couldn't be turning out more opposite than that. I'm struggling, I have so much to remember and do and I can't make any real friends. I have so much self-hate and self-loathing stored up inside of me this week that I just don't want to try anymore. I just want to go back home and let life slip by me, watching it go like a film. I'm sick and tired of feeling like a prisoner.

Free to Fly

I can see the possibilities of who I could become next in every shining green leaf of the trees, in every breath I take while I remind myself that I am alive. This is such a joyous feeling, something I haven't felt in nearly a year, to be truly excited and happy with what is coming next. This is the start. A change is coming, and I am prepared for it because I am happy and proud of myself and who I have become. This is only the beginning, and from here there is only blue skies and sunshine and the anticipation of what is yet to come.

It's a exhilarating idea, if I think about it for long enough: I am alive. I am free. I have good, healthy food in my stomach and classes that challenge me and a closet full of my favorite outfits. I have a space to think, to be inspired, to create, I have a bed and a TV to lull me to sleep, I have the love of my family and friends who I remain in regular contact with. These are simple things, that I sometimes take for granted, but right now I feel as if I am the luckiest girl in the whole world, to be living this life and have all these open doors and opportunities. This is one of those moments where I feel as if I've made it.

Up in All Directions

Things have been going pretty well. I had an uplifting day yesterday, where the sun was shining and I felt comfortable and confident and able to stand on my own two feet. I attended a writer's meeting and was not afraid to interject my opinions and suggestions to the writer, someone with admittedly much more talent than I. The weekend helped to ground me a lot, I read a lot about meditation and yoga techniques and opportunities for deep breathing exercises throughout the day. I babysat my cousins, who were more than the usual handful, and had a day of relaxation with my Aunt in Auburn where we got our nails done. I feel myself improving, and it's encouraging.

Today, the rain is not going to stop me from wearing my heels and being proud of who I am.

Our Deal.

This week has been full of progress and setbacks. I'm chatting more in class with my peers, exchanging smiles and laughs and anecdotes and names. I feel a bit more comfortable around them. Generally I feel more in control of my life, my priorities, my future. However, I still have yet to finding and securing a job, and each time I am let down, despite my status as a Work-Study student, it gets more and more discouraging. I've got to send my mom a description of the jobs I have been eyeing, hopefully she can help me out with starting the process all over again. Tomorrow I have to go to Merrill and fill out paperwork. I'm just scared that I am going to fail in this aspect.

This song has been stuck in my head for a few days now. Kind of reminds me of my deal, whatever that is.

Call the Shots!

Today was the first cheery day since summer, and I am so grateful for that. I needed a day where I wasn't miserable the whole time. Let's hope this feeling continues! A little sucky that I had to take my pills to make it happen, but at this point, I will take anything I can get.

My classes are alright, I'm starting to warm up to them. I still don't know what the point of my sociology class is, as the professor never came out and said what the subject is really about. He just lists off names of people and that they are important to sociology, which, you know, is really super helpful. I'm starting to really get into my Fiction Writing class, despite how many obnoxious and pretentious people there are. I also think my English class will be good, one of my only friends is in that class so I am excited for that! I'm a little unsure about French. I had a bad start yesterday morning and thought I was going to the right time, when in fact just as I was arriving, the class was ending. Super. But I am not going to let that slow me down, I will just have to work all the more harder next class!

As you can probably tell, genuine optimism is rare for me, but as always, I will just have to fake it until I make it.

Home life.

Last week I moved back into school. It was stressful and overwhelming and I am incredibly lonely there, without a real friend on campus. I decided to spend the long weekend with my family at the beach instead of on campus with my new roommate, who wouldn't have been around anyway. I am encouraged by others around me to step out and try new things, meet new people, even to go to a party or two, but instead of feeling empowered by the opportunity for change I have been given, I am shrinking away from them, intimidated and scared. I wish I had realized how easy I had it last year, instead of ignoring it and wallowing in my other problems. Last year I wanted to be as far away from home as possible. This year, I wish I was there in a heartbeat.

Getting lonely.

This week has been one of the most stressful ever. It is now sinking in that I will not greet Chelsea at our dorm, I will be living by myself for an undetermined amount of time. Shopping for dorm supplies has been stressing me out beyond belief; I want to give up and just not show up at school on Tuesday. I'm scared, I'm anxious, and I'm sad. I hate not knowing what I'm getting into, I hate going into situations blind-folded. I hate change.

My deal.

Yesterday was a tough day; it was the lowest I've ever felt, the ugliest I've ever felt in a long time. Luckily, my friends were there to buoy me up and were supportive and understanding when I kept delaying our meeting.

Today I have a lot of sorting to do, packing for school starts today. This is always a scary and stressful time in the year, and its even harder when my mom isn't there to support me. I am only 19, I can't juggle all of these things on my own.

Also, this song pretty much sums up my summer. Depressing, right?

Head first.

Something has snapped. I can't handle any of this anymore. I had such a great day yesterday with Kelsie, one of my closest friends, and we talked about everything and how we wanted the future to be, how we ourselves wanted to be. I felt so hopeful then, so full of promise and potential to be whomever I wanted. A mere 24 hours later, I've slumped down into this rut, where the walls of all the things I have to accomplish this week are towering over me and I am shrinking away from them, afraid of being suffocated under their importance and intimidation.

But I need time for me too, I've been running myself ragged all summer and I need to get down off this absolutely absurd level of anxiety I have been teetering on for the past four months. I think I'll try doing some yoga tonight.

One day at a time.

Today my Dad, brother, and I went to the Peabody Museum, an anthropological museum on the Harvard campus. My Dad and I were having a great day- we loved looking at all the skeletons and fragments of wars long past and lives long lost. But by the end of the day, I could see the dark storm clouds brewing in my brother, so I told my Dad that I had college prep-work to do this weekend and that we had to go home. I felt guilty being in my grandparents' hair, creating strong waves in their extremely still waters.

This week, it just feels like I can't get out of anyone's way, I can't wish myself invisible and silent like I have so many other times, and I am scared that my brother is slipping through my fingers.

the fear of god.

Today my brother, father, and I went to Plymouth Plantation, visiting the Native Americans (who are native to the area and whose tribe have lived in Massachusetts for 12,000 years!); the role players and their tiny, smelly houses and overgrown gardens; and the livestock they keep there year-round. I took this picture of a goat sniffing my camera! It was really interesting, coming back after all those years I had spent there as a child, being bored and not taking anything in and trying to trick the roleplayers. Now that I can appreciate the place, I found it so interesting.

Lately my patience has run short with distant friends and aquaintances who want to get together before the summer's over. I appreciate and am flattered by their interest in keeping me in their lives, but I go back to school on August 30. I have an almost dehabilitating form of anxiety. There is no making plans with me before that date. My schedule up until that point is already packed full, and I am not going to try and squeeze them in anywhere, so they'll have to wait until Winter Break like the rest of my friends. The only thing they're doing for me right now is increasing my stress.

To be quiet

Today begins my three-day stay with Mark and my dad. Spending this much time around my dad and letting him get to me and stress me out this much lately has me feeling more ready for school, to be out of everyone's hair, and to start focusing on other things again. I will be happy, I will be healthy, I will be free.

Louis

Today we threw a party for Mark's graduation/going off to college, and it was so great. Great family and friends, great food, great laughs. The two wine coolers I had loosened me up just enough to be able to relax and laugh, without feeling anxious. It was a very loving, happy day in all.

I asked Dr. G today if I should send Ryan a letter, letting him know I'm doing okay and that I hope he is doing okay as well. He said that Ryan is still too angry and bitter to accept any kind of graciousness or kindness from me, and will resent me even more for it. I just want this to be over, I just want to move on with my life free of these hostility ropes that are tying me to him. I just want to send the olive branch, and be done with it forever.

Also, I decided to move forward with Derek. He's technically single, and I need to stop worrying about everyone else's opinions and feelings and start thinking about my own. This is my life and I'll make my own mistakes.

Hollows

I need to start somewhere; I need to find a place to find my footing and climb. I called Dad today, asked him about possible vacations, and then he tried to place the blame on me for not picking up the ball fast enough. I'm sorry, I didn't know that I was running this show? And it was impossible to make plans without first knowing when I was leaving for school, and a vacation with you is not the first item on my list of things I have to readjust according to the time schedule change.

That seemed to only create more stress, so tomorrow when I talk to dad about scheduling these mini vacations I'm also planning to ask about money for the things I need for school. Because there are a lot, and I am broke, and I'm already having high anxiety about going back to school as it is, so it would be a great comfort to me if everything I needed was taken care of before I go off gallivanting with you.

One day at a time. One step at a time. One breath at a time. One problem at a time. I can only do so much.

The Girls of Wolfeboro

This weekend we spent with Jimmy and my step-siblings, as it was my step-brother, Tyler's, birthday. He had a party and a bunch of his drunk friends over, who are endearing and as polite as one can be while drunk, but towards 11 PM I started feeling claustrophobic and anxious. I was trying to focus on the Red Sox game, but the massive group of girls standing right up against me were all chittering about their previous drunken escapades in the last week alone, and arguing over who was the most drunk that night. Why anyone would ever want to brag about how drunk they were, is beyond me. Though, I do suppose it's a form of setting places- puffing their chests out, trying to look more intimidating than the girl next to her. The girls who I knew at the party- and there weren't many that I knew- were not participating in this social ritual, and I feel that it made it all the more easier to distinguish the girls with substance, stability, and morals from those floozies who had come for the free alcohol, weed, and maybe a happy ending by the end of the night with one of Tyler's many guy friends. It's not exactly my favorite way to spend an evening.

Yesterday, when Melissa got out of work, we had dinner and then went to see Harry Potter 7.2 in 3D. It was just as amazing as the first time, and we were both crying during the end. I am so thankful for someone as level-headed and fun as Melissa for my sister.

lucky day

Yesterday I went to Boston to hang out with my childhood friend, James. His mother and my mother have been friends since they were in grade school. It was refreshingly great, we had lunch and chatted about everything- and I've never wanted to transfer to a Boston school as badly before. I wish it wasn't so close to my family, but I know that I need them there in case anything were to happen. I already know the city pretty well, and I was initially accepted into Emerson before the Farm. I would love to live there and start over, in a way. Part of me feels tied to the city, wrapped around a streetlamp by the Common, and yet another part of me feels the obligation and necessity to return to Maine, to fight through whatever demons I'm facing instead of running away. And right now, that seems like the best option.

Style

I explained to my therapist today about how I tend to view people and categorize them, and how I apply this to myself. It's difficult to explain, but after my messy breakup and months of my ex slandering me to anyone who would listen, I became quite controlling of how I want to be viewed by other people, and how I want to view myself. I want to be seen as grown up, sophisticated, feminine, and happy, but more importantly, I want to feel and believe in those things. And I believe it's a fake-it-until-you-make-it kind of circumstance, because while I don't believe I possess any of those qualities, I want to make others think I do, and I want to at least pretend that I do.

My trip to New York a few weeks ago made me aware of this fact, when I saw it reflected in my older step-sister and my step-brother's girlfriend. They have their own ways of faking it, and so will I. It's an important step for me to take control of my life, to be sure of myself and who I am before I set foot back on campus and subject myself to the problems I had last year.

Good as Gold

When my ideas and my thoughts become so abstract and translucent (which, is an abstract thought in and of itself), they manifest themselves physically as an aching in my chest, a knot of anxiety for fear of not being able to feel the ground beneath me. When nothing is concrete, when I have nothing to anchor myself to any one place and my anxiety has no place to channel itself, it turns in on itself- I become a black hole of worry, a self-destructing vacuum that eats up and processes everything it can, transmuting it so that any random thought is victim to fear and panic.

And the worst part is, I have nothing to show for it.

Molly.

I love this cat with all of my heart. After all this time, she's still my shadow, my other half, my baby. She is beautiful and sometimes I feel guilty that I couldn't love another human being the way that she loves me, or that I love her.

back home.

I've made a decision to go running daily, to ease back into a workout routine, and to go through every single item in my room. I'm throwing everything out, I'm starting over, I'm ready to be me again.

This past week my family went to my uncle's house on Long Island, which is beautiful, right on the water. I brought along Erica, who I felt immensely guilty and sorry for while she had to awkwardly deal with my panic attacks and fights with my family. After Wednesday, I couldn't handle them anymore (I couldn't handle the number of people and the volume of noise) and I wanted so badly to leave. I feel terrible for partly ruining Erica's vacation with my temper tantrums and crying and mood swings, but my family doesn't understand my anxiety, and my mother will never learn how to help me.

Happy medium

Spending most of my time at home and with my cats has had its beneficial effects, such as jolts of creativity and lots of time to spend by myself, and being holed back up in this room has helped me climb back into the soft, comfortable, broken-in personality that I was all throughout high school. I listen to music too loudly, dance around my room, doodle in my planner and create page after page in my art journal, look at things from a different point of view, speak french to my cats, and never depend on a boy to make me happy. If I can hold onto this until school starts again, I may just survive, or I may just have to start over somewhere new.

Today Mom and I went on an hour long walk around our neighborhood, making fun of all the weird looking houses and Mom even cut in on a father and son's basketball game. In all the time I have spent complaining about where I live and how much I hate it, I forgot how peaceful and beautiful it can be.

Sometimes it gets hard to leave the house, but my bravery returns with a shower and a coffee. Routines, routines, routines.

Frustrations and Vibrations

I am so far in the single mentality that I am pushing away all the wonderful attention my boyfriend gives me, simply because he isn't Ryan or Sebastian. He won't make me love him like they did; he is never going to make me feel the way they made me feel.

This is the time in my life when I am figuring things out, testing the waters, and finding my way. One day, I will finally get it right.

Sources

We cuddled on the floor, kissing and giggling and holding hands. But I didn't feel anything, as nice as it was, you didn't make my heart flutter or make me feel relaxed and comfortable. I was thinking ahead to going home, to cuddling with my cat and being alone again. I don't know what this means, what you expect from me. Because I am a mess, it's hard to live with myself, and I have so many other things and people to deal with.

Your hands crept up my legs as I whined about the last boy to hurt me, who I have to see and pass by in the street. Who talks about me to his roommate while they oh-so-subtly stare in my direction. You listened, you told me what I needed to hear, and in return you felt what you wanted. That's how it always was, how it always will be.

Identifying

Sometimes just browsing through pictures on the internet is enough to make my mind wander, to stop thinking about all the stressors in my life and just relax. A lot of times, a cup of tea around this time of night (7 PM) helps me to focus on my homework. Doodling in my planner for a few minutes also helps to release those yearnings of procrastination. And, without fail, putting on a playist from my iPod keeps me motivated and happy and comfortable enough to continue working.

And then, sometimes I just have to find somewhere downstairs to work because there's too many distractions in my room.

Shut up.

Oh, and if by being "there for me", you mean going behind my back and telling my ex-boyfriend everything I said, then yeah, you were there for me. Also, who is "we"? You were my best friend. You and only you. There was no one else, there is no one else to put the blame on for why I stopped confiding in you. It was you.

I'm sorry that I just want to put the past behind me. I'm sorry that I don't trust you anymore. But, you know what? You never made this easy for me. So I don't give a shit about your whining that we don't talk enough. I don't give a shit about how much I'm hurting you, because you have no idea how much you hurt me.

Pessimists

I'm sorry for trying to destroy you. You don't deserve it. More than anything, you are my ragdoll that I beat up on, and you silently absorb all of it, take the abuse and the hurt. You have no idea that you are being hurt right now, but you will. I can't do this with you. I can't breathe anymore, I felt so much freer when you weren't laying on my guilty conscience. So, I'm sorry. You don't deserve any of the hurt I'm about to give you. But you just don't feel like you're mine.

Jess texted me and asked me to update her on my life. As if I am going to tell her anything. I'm sure that Kaylie has told her about me and my uncontrollable mouth, my inability to think before I speak and to form correct sentences that actually convey what I want to say. Those are mistakes, regrets, things that I would take back if I could. So are the things I told Jess, which she told to Allison, which she told to him. Feeding the fire and feuling a completely unneccessary blow up. And to be honest, I wish her the best in life, but I lost my friend when that fight errupted. I can't trust her anymore, I see now that she's not on my side any longer.

nobody said it was easy.

I am waiting as patiently as I can for the coming of the next chapter in my life, featuring a new boy who tells me sweet things and seems at least slightly more stable than you. I am reminded again and again of you, of everything we did, of the things you said to me, the way we felt when we were alone. The few pieces of happy memories that I was able to salvage in the fire of our breakup, they will stay with me forever. But our life together has burned down, I need to build a new one, with someone else this time. I think I found that someone else, for now.

So, although you continue to haunt my life, this is me, picking up the pieces and carrying on. Because you can't hurt me anymore. Because I found someone new to tell me I'm pretty and to hold my hand when I'm crying. I found someone new to care about me.

And so now I turn to you, fairweather friend, who went behind my back and said things I had told you in confidence, brought them straight to the enemy. Text me and facebook poke me and like my statuses and reblog my tumblr posts all you want, but that isn't going to undo any of the trauma you led me straight into, that isn't going to take any of the words back that you told him. You don't deserve a place in my life if that is how you believe you should treat me. I have always been there for you, through absolutely everything. Yes, my fight has been long and tiresome and difficult, but you clearly can't sympathize with me or be there for me if this is how you want to play. Game fucking on.