Journey to the Good Place.

Know yourself. Love yourself.

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I will not text him. I will not text him. Even if it takes days or even weeks, I will not text him until he texts me. I will not text him until he clarifies if he meant it when he said he loved me or if it was a drunken mistake. I will not text him.

I will not text him.

I absolutely definitely will not text him.


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Amidst all these life changes I’m collecting things that comfort me. Just discovered a new one: plodding. Not sure why…maybe because I normally take light steps and stay on my toes so I can stay out of other peoples way…and that’s like a metaphor for how I spend way too much time worried about other peoples wants and needs and forget to take my own into account. So by slowing down and taking firm heavy steps, its like I’m taking a stand and letting the world know “from now on I come first”.

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Identifying weaknesses

Since I have nothing better to do and I’m in a shitty mood, I’m making a list of things I fail at. We already discussed #1: Romance. Now for thing #2: Sleeping alone. When I have a designated special someone to lay next to, when I can contentedly watch their chest slowly rise and fall with breath and feel the heat emanating off them, I fall asleep within minutes of my head touching the pillow and sleep like a corpse all night. But when I’m alone, it doesn’t matter how tired I am, I lay wide awake until the wee hours of the morning, then toss and turn and wake up every hour. This, to me, is a sign of a profound glitch somewhere in my construction.

It would appear this insomnia won’t be going away any time soon either, due to the distinct lack of male talent in and around my hometown (not that I would be able to forget about Mr. Rockstar long enough to notice anyone else even if there was anyone worth noticing). And since me lying awake for hours in the middle of the night has historically led to me quickly spiralling down a psychological rabbit hole to emo-land, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize in advance for the buzzkill-tastic posts that will surely follow.

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Remedial Love 101

Random philosophical too-much-time-on-my-hands thought of the day: Is love supposed to always be such a pain in the ass? Or do I just suck at it? Anyone know if there’s a Remedial Love 101 class somewhere I can take? Or perhaps a surgery to trade my retarded defective heart for a better model?

I’m told baboon hearts are the latest fashion.

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My dad keeps saying I need to go back on my medication. It’s his only response every time I say something he doesn’t like or agree with. Its very insulting. I mean, its true that when I’m not on my medication, all my emotions are out of control and all of my responses are way stronger than they’re meant to be…but that doesn’t mean that my emotions are unfounded or that there isn’t a legitimate cause behind my responses.

Ugh. I thought it would be good for me to move back in with my dad for awhile. Thought “it’ll be great, I’ll save up some money and get back to my roots and just hit the reset button on all this shit that’s been making me miserable the last few months.” What a laugh. I feel like I’m 15 again. That was the worst time in my life…I was SOOO happy when I finally got away from it. Now I’m trapped here all over again and I’m going absolutely mental. Every second of every day I’m screaming inside. I feel so pitiful and I miss SAN ANTONIO of all fucking places. I was sad and directionless there. But I was happy. And strong. I miss it. I miss feeling like I belong.

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Thoughts while watching prozac nation:

People say absurd little pick me up lines like: there is no normal…everyone is an individual and odd in their own way.

Thats true i suppose…but only to an extent. The truth is there is a majority out there that all learned to speak the same silent language. They are all unique but there is something in their core that is the same that allows them to understand eachother.

Then there is the others…the ones that are truly odd down to the last inch of themselves. Im reminded of a story i read once where everyone had a birthmark, shaped like a puzzle piece, and somewhere in the world was a soulmate with a birthmark the same shape as theirs. Everyones was different, different number of sides, facing a different way. But they were all the same because they were all puzzle pieces…and they all knew without any doubt that they had a match somewhere. But then there was a select few with birthmarks shaped like stars and hearts and question marks. And these people were different…truly different…and alone.

Real life is the same way. And those of us who are TRULY unique…we spend so much time wanting nothing except to find someone who sees that difference and understands it. Who doesnt just give us the cookie cutter line “everyones different”. Someone to say “oh holy shit! You really ARE different arent you? How beautiful.” But then when we finally find someone who truly gets us…it terrifies us. We never really expected it to happen, and we are not prepared to be seen so clearly…so we run…or we destroy it. Perhaps weve grown so used to being alone…learned to like it because we had to or we’d have lost our sanity…solitude and exile have become our safety blanket and we dont know how to accept anything else.