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.

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.

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.

Again & Again

Through all the twists and turns, you turned to me and said, "Where are you taking me? This is crazy." Smiling, I led you down another staircase, towards the elevator. You were putting your blind trust in me, your senses were completely thrown off with every new room, hallway, staircase, and elevator we entered. You paused to look out a window facing the courtyard, and I whispered, "Isn't it pretty?" Because you would never admit it, but you were impressed by the sheer size of the place, by the myriad of floors accompanying it, and my ability to navigate through it. Yes, maybe there is a less complicated way of reaching our destination, but when have I ever taken the easy way to anything? And, once a reliable route is found, why would the most-easily-lost girl in Boston ever think to stray from that route? "I'm glad that I'm not driving," you sighed, laughing at the volume and insanity of the drivers around us. And that is just the way that I want it to stay: with me always in control, always in the driver's seat, and you forever the watchman, looking for openings in the traffic and looking to me for leadership.

Whatever it takes

Well, the holidays are almost here, I very badly need a job, and, as usual, I am daydreaming about the future instead of focusing on my present.

I'm tired, I just wanna lie back down.

I've been crying all night, and it sucks because I had such an awesome day. Listening to Chasing Lights again made me burst into tears, but this time not over him- it was over Mel, and I knew that she was my last remaining source of unhappiness. So, since I knew I wouldn't have the courage to do it otherwise, I went on facebook, opened our inbox messaging chat, and started typing. I saved what I wrote, but didn't send it. And it was exactly what I felt I had left to say to her. I know that once I am ready to send this out, that's it. This is the last shot I am giving her, and unless she is ready and willing to spring into action and fix our relationship, then I am done making any attempts. I've already tried this a number of times, and this is it for me. I have already initiated enough conversations on the topic, tried to get my point across enough times, gave her the enough chances to work things out. From that point on, it's in her hands. And I will refuse to let our relationship upset me any more than it already has. From that point on, what she chooses to do with my letter is her decision. Any steps she chooses to take from there will be her doing. I am done doing all the work on our relationship.

I need to go back to Diane. If I hold this in any longer, I swear I'm going to burst.

The Lord of Time

I wish I knew how not to procrastinate, how to balance my time well and efficiently, but I guess that it's part of being human. We were made without time management manuals, but now apparently you can buy them at Barnes and Noble for $14.99. I don't think that it's really anything someone can teach us, but something that we have to teach ourselves. I don't know exactly how much I can get out of a book that I can't learn from mistakes or past experience. But at the same time, people are afraid to make mistakes, to learn things for themselves, to be looked at like a failure. So they buy these books and waste obs and gobs of time learning how to manage time, like it's some kind of unruly filing system. But I think that time can go as fast or slow as it wants, while still keeping the same beat of the minutes and seconds and hours that can either fly or crawl by. It's difficult, and it takes discipline but if you can waste $14.99 and a day of your life on a time management book, then maybe you have more discipline than I do.