DAY 8 WILL BE GREAT!

I woke up today after noon thinking about how awesome I am. Yep. Thinking about how this entire last week has been "The Week of Weakness". I realize no one should ever have that kind of power over me, no matter what. Not even if I love them. I still love him now, and still crave his embrace, but I also now know that he's not worth my pain, my weakness, agony, loneliness, regret, self punishment... etc.

I'm supposed to be STRONG damnit! Who wore those shoes out trekking around Europe for 3 months alone? ME.

It's my third day not smoking, too. I'm a nonsmoker now, world!

Anyway, I have the day off, and I'm gonna spend it taking care of ME. Making ME happy. And letting go of everything else.

Day 7 winding down...

I hung out with friends on two different occasions today. It was really good for me to socialize and get out of the house. Norma even made me some soup to eat for the next couple days! Lordie Lord knows I need some nutrition in my body.

But in the end, I still return home alone. A few weeks ago I thought that was the coolest novelty ever. Now it makes me kind of sad. It's nice to watch my rats roll around in their balls, and to snuggle with them. It's nice to watch my Betta fish get excited every time I walk by him, but who is tucking me in at night? Who will tickle my back when I wake up from nightmares? Who will give me a sweet kiss as my eyes flutter shut? Whose morning breath will I greet upon wakening? For whom am I bothering to wash my dishes for? Or flush the toilet for? Or put on makeup for?

Ok maybe that's a bit melodramatic, but you get the point, right?

It seemed somehow suiting that when I came back home from being out for merely an hour or two, and I walked into the front yard through my white picket fence gate, I walked face first into a gigantic spider web. It was too dark to see if there was a spider so I freaked out for a good 10 minutes, trying to delicately shake the web off of me while simultaneously searching for a possible gigantic spider on my person. I eventually gave up, and trudged back to my apartment completely covered in spiderwebs.

Day 7, This is Hell! This is Hell!

Oh man. The original line in this song was sooo true. Day 7 IS hell!

It is also day 2 of not smoking, and though I have the patch, I'm definitely feeling it.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed despite my relatively good day yesterday. I felt blue at work all day, and ended up throwing up. I have no idea why. I hadn't eaten much of anything for breakfast, and I haven't drank for 3 days. Must just be emotions, and a general instability with my stomach.

On the way biking home, I passed by a day labor place I bike by every day to and from work.

"Hey, ma'am?"

I glanced over at a blonde, rugged couple. The man continued, "Can I get a cigarette from you?"

I shook my head and gave him a look of disgust as I kept biking by, only faster now.

"Stupid bum," I thought to myself. Then I laughed at the irony. I remember, years ago, when I used to spend so much energy trying to help homeless people and trying to get people to refrain from calling them bums. Oh how time changes things.

"Stupid son of a bitch bum," I laughed aloud to myself bitterly.

Days 4, 5 & 6

Note: This was actually written on July 13, but I started it last night. That's why it says Sunday. But today, Monday, is actually the real Day 6.

The original goes like this: "Days 4, 5 and 6. Well I guess you just don't give a shit."

Reality goes more like this: "Days 4, 5 and 6. Karma sure as hell is a gol' darn bitch!"



I always used to say I lived with no regrets. My life has been littered with many mistakes, but I never regretted any of them. I always proudly declared, "My past is what made me who I am today! And I love myself today, so I don't regret the past."

Well, I finally have regrets for the first time in my life.

If only I could reverse time I would...

...have opened my heart up to him sooner.

...not have pushed him away from me so many times when he tried to kiss me or hug me. I would go back to every one of those moments and return his kisses with melting tenderness, and his hugs with embraces that are so sweet they'd seem to stop time.

...not have closed down and put up a wall against him when I got scared.

...have kept talking to him about everything, instead of getting quiet when I felt uncomfortable.

...have asked him more about himself and been more engaged in his passionate talk about his interests and values (food, politics, etc.).

...never yell at him or call him names.

...never take him for granted.

...not have leaned on him so heavily.

...not have broken up with him twice to chase novelties out of curiosity, confusion, or whatever it was.

...kiss him more, hold him more, wash the dishes more, cook more, give him more space, give myself more space, never hang up the phone, etc. etc. etc.


If only I could send a letter to myself when we first started dating, warning me of what was to come, warning me not to screw it up. That would have been helpful.

My love for him is not waning, though. And neither is my hope for our future. I won't let that go. Maybe one day. Maybe.

"One day we'll meet again and you'll need me, you'll see me completely. Every little bit. Oh yeah maybe you'll love me, you'll love me then." ~Kelly Clarkson "Maybe"

In the meantime, I'm trying to pick up the shattered pieces of myself and put them back together. Today is Day 1 of quitting smoking, and it's really easy so far. I'm using the patch to help. I'm confident I'm quitting for good this time. I also have not drank any alcohol for 2 days.



"I am likely to miss the main event if I stop to cry or complain again. So I will keep a deliberate pace. Let the damned breeze dry my face. Oh, mister, wait until you see what I'm gonna be. I've got a plan, a demand and it just began. And if you're right, you'll agree. Here's coming, a better version of me." ~Fiona Apple "Better Version of Me"

Day 3

I woke up to my alarm today with puffy eyes from crying all night. Part of me looked back in a sleepy haze on the previous nights' events, and silently scolded the beer I drank. The other part of me still felt as forlorn and disconsolate as before, just less drunk this time.

Day 3. I think I'm starting to see. I think my denial ended last night. I think today I see my reality instead of my fantasy. I sit in my little pink sofa chair with my computer in my lap and my sleeping rats in the cage to my right. In front of me is an empty chair with only a mirror. I am alone. It's just me now. Me and my rats and my Betta fish. And my mirror.



Just like last night, this morning I find myself unable to stop watching that video I posted in my last entry. Kiwi. Mad World Version. I just watch it over and over and over. And... there we go, just as I wrote that, yet another picture fell from my wall. I feel like my house doesn't want me here. I've been living here for more than two weeks and have had most of my pictures and decorations placed up on my walls for a week or more. And ever since a couple nights ago, one by one, everything is falling apart. Pictures crash to the ground in the middle of the night while I'm trying to sleep, mugs smash into pieces on my floor waking me up from nap time dreams, calenders fall, something is always falling. It's the perfect metaphor. In all aspects of my life. I feel like my life in general is falling to pieces around me. Then my house itself is doing the same. And inside of me, in the fortress of my skin, my innermost being is falling apart to pieces as well. I'm surrounded by destruction, no matter which way I look at it.



Anyway, if you haven't watched the Kiwi video yet, I encourage you to watch it to understand the rest of what I am about to write.

Each person is born with different unique qualities. Some people are born paralyzed. Some people are born "freaks". Some people are born artists. Some are born athletes. Some people acquire these qualities in their later years. The point is, no one person is endowed with the same capabilities as any other person.

There are birds that don't fly, like ostriches, and of course, the kiwi bird. In this video, the Kiwi was chasing his dream of flying like other birds, a dream that most likely brought him to his demise. It made me cry repeatedly as I watched it over and over last night because I feel like I am a flightless bird that keeps trying in vain to fly. And I start to wonder why I can't just accept the fact that I can't fly, and nurture my flightless capabilities instead. I probably have many talents that other people who can fly don't have. It's so difficult to be an outcast and appreciate it, though. Especially when other people reinforce your delusions. Other people cannot believe that I can't fly, and keep pushing me and bullying me into trying. I'm not sure, in all honesty, that I've ever known anyone who truly accepted me for who I am. There is no one I can think of who hasn't prodded me to become something I cannot be. And that hurts so bad. It's a difficult battle that I fight with myself daily. But it becomes a defeating battle when it's half of me pitted against the other half of me and the rest of the world.

I called in sick to work today. Funny. Yesterday I wished I was working, felt that my idle time was too destructive. But now, I don't want to face the world right now. I don't want to walk out into all the voices, faces, and pushes telling me to fly. I can't even look in my mirror. I don't know what to do anymore. All I know is I am not broken, and I don't need to be fixed. But how do I convince myself and others of that? And how do I grieve that the one person I love so much and who has brought so much joy and hope into my life has left me because I can't fly?

This Video Might Make you Cry

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0G9vDKcdLg&feature=fvw

It made me cry. Because I can relate to not having wings.

Wow. Day 2 is eternity

I need another job or something. Days off are not healthy for me right now.

I have been in so much deep denial lately, closing my eyes to avoid the monster in front of me, reaching my hands out in the dark, knocking things over, making a mess, breaking things, trying to find a flashlight. Just like when I first moved here and kept hearing noises in my first place. Thought an opossum was attacking me but it was just Blue Bear... somehow a year in Gainesville has brought me right back to the beginning.

Anyway, I think I'm starting to peek and decipher what this monster is. This monster I have described in many blog entries. The same one that haunted me in the woods in Tillamook, the same one that haunted my first place, and my second, and now my third.

I've always had low self esteem. Always was a perfectionist trying to reach a perfection that can't be achieved. And I have been told time again and again that I can be better. That the "better version of me" is really out there. And I keep trying in vain to find her, to be her, and fail miserably. Perhaps she really is out there, but I'm starting to think that if she is, the first step to reaching her is to be ok with who I am now. What I am doing to myself now is like being 500 lbs. and striving to be a Victoria's Secret model one day. It's just ridiculous.

And the more I think about it, I'm really not all that terrible of a me right now. Sure, I'm not Mrs. Right, but I'm me, and I'm not so bad. I have a bad habit of intentionally punishing myself if I don't live up to my self imposed ideals, and of denying myself care in general, pushing it off until the day I become "better". I have a hard time committing to eating well, quitting smoking, exercising, or treating myself well in any way because I feel like I don't deserve it. And I also realize other people in my life intentionally or unintentionally reinforce this distorted cycle. When I look in the mirror the picture above is what I see. It's me turned inside out, and once people get inside, they aren't attracted anymore. And they leave me. And they tell me I should be "better." And I'm starting to think... why should I have to be something I'm not? Why can't I love myself for who I am? Why can't others accept me the way I am? Why can't either party be attracted to who I really am inside?

Relationships are shallow. Only skin deep. That saddens me.