Crying over a bowl of microwaved broccoli at the kitchen table.
Crying in front of a lit candle-
crying crying crying trying to believe in love.
[everything hurts]

Spesiel van LoE.
If you still read. Please contact me.

I guess I don't care

I don't care if you know who I am. I don't care if other people know what I think. Or if it will someday destroy my reputations, my jobs. I will always be as transparent as cheesecloth. Maybe even more than that. A cheesecloth without threads. I never regret how I feel.

http://retracing-my-steps.tumblr.com/

I lied

I lied about the every day thing.
I think finals and last 2 weeks of school moots everything.

Today

I don't have a more interesting title.
I feel good helping my friends. It's upsetting that my closest friends are the ones that have the worst lives.
I feel fortunate to just have my brain be the problem. I'm glad my anxiety doesn't effect my body besides perhaps making me tired.

I gave some advice to one of my friends, a beneficial thing. She's getting herself out of a situation she's been in for her whole life. A situation full of icky people that she shouldn't have to deal with every week.
I'm hoping she really leaves. And I'm hoping it really benefits her. She was already sure she wanted to.

Best. Day. Ever.

I found a home.. Home!
I danced the night away. A pretty crossdresser complimented my clothes. I smiled and people smiled back. I danced with Wess and we boogied.
That was awesome. "Do it again" says the brain.
I wanted it to never end.

Become Color Blind

I find an extreme importance in color blindness.
Because you need to stop assuming there is a difference.

I look at the 'not specified' in a race statistic of a school, and I'm almost disappointed. Because then I don't know whether or not the admission is color blind. Or maybe not even that; I more don't know how well we are doing in becoming color blind. Or perhaps I just enjoy a visual image. Which creates an irony. Because in the perfect world, there would be no need to specify race.
You can specify what country you are from, because it provides some cultural information. You can provide maybe information like, how many siblings you have. But what race you are being separated is the most ridiculously pointless thing there is on this planet today.

Which is why the word 'multicultural' sometimes makes me very angry. Why? Because it acknowledges color as a part of culture.
Which it is not.

You know why? Not every asian in USA is from Asia. Not every hispanic speaks Spanish at home. Not every American is connected to their US heritage.
In the United States, it is safe to say, that we are all American. And for that reason, because we have come from so many places in our ancestry, we should notice color the least.

Why? Because it does not say one thing about a person.
You cannot determine how someone will act based on their race. It would be ridiculous to assume that someone who looks like they are from outside the US are indeed from outside the US. So why do we still act like races for some reason are separate in their cultures? In a way that is similar enough to be separated into simple categories?

I'm proud to say, I don't notice or care about race. I don't notice it. I notice how you dress, how you act. I am very annoyed that no one catches on that this is important.
Instead, we have people trying to amplify their race. Separate. Minority.
We do need to fight against racism and against minorities being treated differently. But one step forward and backward is those who accentuate their race as an important fact of their lives.

We should not respect different cultures based on race. We shouldn't assume anyone's culture based on their race. We shouldn't have races that have groups, because races shouldn't hang out with only each other, and they shouldn't act like they have everything in common.
Because they don't. Just like I have very little in common with the white person next to me.

This is something people need to start doing. Don't notice race. Don't talk about it. Don't think of people as things besides individuals. You can describe them visual by their race, and that's it. Just like I can point out someone who is blond. But it says nothing about them, their culture, their heritage, or their personality.
So don't assume a thing. You won't know until you meet them.

That is an important world to make. It's not important to have evenly balanced races attending schools. It's important to allow a variety of cultures into schools, and to not discriminate against different cultures. A person is not related to their race. So Universities making it easier for different races to get in is ridiculous. Because I don't think that race makes anyone different from each other.
So it's just buying more into racism.

Get me?

Yesterday, and Today, and Social Anxiety Disorder

Yesterday, I went to the DMV to get my ID for my age 21ness.
It was really funny, because after the three hours I had my photo taken, and it turned out really nice. The DMV lady said she could tell I was 'an angel'. She says she sees a lot of people and how they act and she repeated at least 3 times that she was certain I was an angel (in context of personality).
I kind of liked that, because I don't hear anyone say anything like that, so if people do find me to be a kind person, I frankly have no idea. My thoughts lead people to thinking I'm a mean or blunt or crass person, which I am inside sometimes but I would never hurt someone with it. So it's nice to see that it's at least noticeable that I wish to be kind, and overall probably am. Because I'm kind because I wish more people were, and also for the benefit of others. And because I legitimately care about how people feel, even to a neurotic extent.

Today I was cutting thick paper, a delicate design from a greeting card, and a small triangle piece snapped off and ricocheted into my eye. Terrifying. I was scared it stabbed it. Wess was there for an emergency paper-in-eye retrieval, thankfully. I'm not an injury prone person so that scared me. The first time I burned my finger months back was completely traumatizing.

I'm touched today. I feel like I'm a faker when I tell people I have social anxiety disorder. Because they act like I'm overstating. And because it's so normal for me. Also, I don't have panic attacks, which is a lucky break. Anxiety feels like it's just like breathing. I have this etiquette that feels like any normal human would have. Guilt that is not very normal, but the feeling of this anxiety is not even describable anymore. I don't know which parts are normal and abnormal.
So when I read about social anxiety disorder, my heart jumps. Because I'm amazed. That's me!

From wikipedia, the best at summarizing, my heart jumped!:

In cognitive models of social anxiety disorder, social phobics experience dread over how they will be presented to others. They may be overly self-conscious, pay high self-attention after the activity, or have high performance standards for themselves. According to the social psychology theory of self-presentation, a sufferer attempts to create a well-mannered impression on others but believes he or she is unable to do so. Many times, prior to the potentially anxiety-provoking social situation, sufferers may deliberately go over what could go wrong and how to deal with each unexpected case. After the event, they may have the perception they performed unsatisfactorily. Consequently, they will review anything that may have possibly been abnormal or embarrassing. These thoughts do not just terminate soon after the encounter, but may extend for weeks or longer.[8] Those with social phobia tend to interpret neutral or ambiguous conversations with a negative outlook and many studies suggest that socially anxious individuals remember more negative memories than those less distressed.

Every single sentence. Every single sentence.
I stress out for weeks. It never ends. I trip a little in front of someone.. For most that memory stays a day, for me, it lasts years. It never stops.
If I feel like I've hurt or offended someone, the guilt never leaves.

Work and work

I have a lot to do. A lot of homework. I 'caught up' with all my math, which is unusual for me. But in the end I'm not exactly caught up. I was absent Friday, so I missed that assignment, which was a handout. So I couldn't do that. Also, I want to retake my first test, but I haven't had time to do that.
In Japanese on the other hand.. I have to study all my kanji tonight and memorize it. Ahhh. And then I have to write a paper, do 6 pages of homework, and study for the Japanese exam. Ahhhhh.
I don't think I could have survived another class this quarter. So I did make the right choice. I hope I can even keep up with this.

I hope I can still have fun and celebrate those days, and won't be exhausted and behind.

Changes

Ok, sorry, I lied. Yesterday I didn't write. But I really wanted to. I had an uneventful day, didn't I? I can't even remember. How strange. I just remember I slept in late. And had a better day. I did all the dishes finally. It took forever.
Today was an even nicer in some ways. Although I have growing anxiety as the evening wears on. It's already 1 am nearly. And I do need to study for Japanese. Kanji quiz.
Today I talked to a friend I've been sort of avoiding the past few weeks. The one who spurred the whole 'avoid people' thing. I felt kind of relieved when she wished me a happy birthday, even though she got confused and thought my birthday was on V-day. That was kind of funny. I was worried that she didn't care enough to try to apologize or something. I saw her today, I feel better and better about it.
I'm happy to see her, because despite her problems she is always so nice.
And I feel good being able to legitimately make someone feel better, or be helpful. She got me a birthday present, which was thoughtful. And I like it, which is better yet. Kind.
I think she's the only one I really feel rather comfortable with most of the time. So I'm glad to know her. I always wanted to be friends with her, so I'm glad I know her better now.
My stomach hurts.
I'm really excited but now I feel really nervous. I wish I could be excited about something without an impeding sense of doom. I think the anticipation is too much. For my birthday and about her. Because I'm worried about what will happen with her, on Sunday. Will she change her mind, or follow my advice and what she wants? I hope for her sake that she does it, and I hope that is the right thing for her. I think once it happens, she can't go back, so I hope it's the right choice. I know it would be for anyone, but I can't know for sure how it will change her life. I really am confident that it is the right thing, but I just hope it doesn't go terribly. Because it could, when you have so many people who are convinced what she is leaving is the right thing. But they seem too cowardly to be direct. After all, they haven't admitted to her face the things they talk about behind her back. So it'd probably be the same if she left.

I feel rather excited for my birthday tomorrow. 21st. Not most for tomorrow, but for Thursday and Saturday. Since I was in my preteens-teens I've wanted to be able to go to these places. Vogue and Neighbors, to be specific. I love to dance. I haven't gotten to dance since middle school. I don't think I actually ever went to a high school dance. Or did I? I don't even remember. If anything only freshman year. I think there was one. It's the only social thing I can stand to do, that I feel passion when doing. I'm hoping that these places stay a long time, this will only be the first time I can finally go. Apparently you can dress up. And people aren't weird about it. And you can dance, no matter how bad you are at dancing.. and no one will stare. Oh that sounds heavenly. And I get to go with my husband, so even if it ended up being uncomfortable, I would have someone to be around. My mom is taking us.

I'm really tired for some reason. I don't wanna study.

My husband is making me a cake tonight. And my mom bought me my choice of Ben and Jerry icecream. I chose peanut butter cup flavor.
This feels kind of... Ordinary today. Maybe because I don't have anything to whine about today? Well, besides the 'partment being a mess. Oh, I need to choose what to wear for Vogue and Neighbors. That's so exciting. I can dress up and have a ball.

Venusian finds Venus? A place to be comfortable, perhaps? I hope I'm not disappointed. But in the end, no matter how terrible the music was, how mean my peers were, or if no one danced... I had the time of my life at the school dances. So I think a legitimate place to dance with people who want to dance.. will be nice.

I'm going to see if I can order alcohol at the restaurant. How fun. Inconvenient is, your ID card expires on your 21st birthday. But I can't get a new one on the holiday, so what can I do? It does have 'turns 21 on---' date on it, so I think that will count, right? That doesn't change even when I update it, so it should be legitimate.

Oh, I'm really scared because, I can't find my charm bracelet. When I went through that fucking shit ass time because of those assholes...
OH wait, that reminds me. I have a comeback for sexual harassment now. At least, something to say as opposed to a deer-in-the-headlights look. "I'm sure you say that to your blowup doll too" or "I'm sure women find you attractive when you act like a RAPIST". (loudly)
That will be nice.

Anyway, when I went through that shit time... I had to pack all my belongings so quickly. I had no time to short through valuables and make sure everything was there. All I could do is make sure nothing was left in that hellhole.
So I don't know where it is. It could be lost. It could be shoved in a box. It's not in my lockbox or anywhere I've looked.
That thing is worth a lot. In memories and money. I've made a point to only add 14k gold charms on there. Because it makes it more of a treat to add one. And it is pretty. So I'm scared about that. I want to find it so I can get it off my mind.

Wess(hussband) just made me take a shot with him for my 21st birthday. Ouch. At least he's not going to like, punch me 21 times, like the.. manly way.
Alcohol makes me feel like I have to pee. Anyone share that sentiment? Oh that's a really annoying feeling. Also it makes my chest kind of hurt. Or maybe just my lower throat. But I guess, well, it is vodka.

Oh how nice, my period ending in time for my birthday.

Speaking of things you don't want to know about, did you know that I'm a huge part of the anti-bra 'movement'?
I hate bras. They are nice for the unfortunate accidental see-through shirt, but otherwise worthless devices from the evil Victorian age.
Breast cancer. Boobs. Bras. See a connection?
Do a little research, it will prove interesting. But I can't promise I'm actually right. I don't really know if the research proves it well enough. But it's something to ponder about. Either way, boobs sag with and without bras. And bras actually enhance back problems for the busty, well, it moves it to the shoulders and causes major posture problems, because it's unnatural for the weight to be held by the shoulders. I definitely condone bras while jogging, because that's downright painful. But otherwise, burn them!

I would love my nipples to not have a social stigma.
Especially when there are clothes over them. Do I really need to wear more to hide the fact that they exist? Sigh. Unless my clothes are see-through. That's bad.

I would love to get 'wasted' with my husband sometime, if I can experience one moment without stifling anxiety and unhappiness, that would be grand. I would never rely on it, but I really want to at least experience it once. I don't intend on dealing with my problems via alcohol or any prescribed medications. Therapy, because that would be the only permanent fix that would eventually be free. Because I would stop needing help eventually, I hope.

The cake is in the oven. I will have to thank his friend (I avoid names just in case, even when I know them). I will have to thank his friend because it's sweet that he went through the trouble to help me find a cake. And I will have to have him thank his grandma, I stole the recipe. Well, Wess did. He even scanned it, how nice. And asked for a translation of the granny-cursive.
I forgot to buy strawberries to put on the cake, but I think the recipe will be good. I hope it's not too rich. But maybe that 'dairy free whipped topping' will help. Haha. I don't usually use that stuff. We shall see how it turns out. I bought cute candles. I think 21 is a big deal. So I intend to celebrate it nicely.

I think my mom bought me a tennis racket for my birthday. How exciting. And my mother in law is so kind. I can't believe she wanted to spend that much money on me.

Today, my birthday, tanjoubi, I will try to forget about worrying about how we're poor and can't afford rent. It's enjoyable celebrating like normal, with my mom buying cake ingredients. Even more fun because it doesn't have to be a surprise, we can choose my cake together.
My dad is bringing us to a place with nostalgia. When I was engaged, my teacher recommended a seminar by a famous marriage psychologist. He was having a talk about successful marriages. So my dad brought me all the way there to drop me off, and we ate beforehand at the best Thai restaurant I've ever been to. The food looked so boring, but then everything you taste there is absolutely glorious. So I was bugging him to go again, and apparently he planned to bring me today. So nice.

I watched a documentary called Wheedle's Groove a few days ago. It was inspiring. It gave me a lot of pride for where I live. And it made me crave dancing even more. I wish there would be a revival of soul music and everything else old like that. I need to go to a disco or a soul night or a 50's big band dance. Heart aflutter for you.

At 3pm 'today' we'll be going out.
I love the number 21.
I listened to the voice message on post secret, the one from the dead grandma. It said 'happy 21st birthday'. That kind of freaked me out, because I didn't really read what it was, and it didn't say which birthday year it was from, so it was a strange coincidence. Kind of sweet, someone also wishing me a happy birthday from the other world.

I love me. I love me. I love me.
I just can't stand looking through my eyes. I always feel melancholy, even at the end of a happy day. Happy days end. Like a long vacation. But it is a breath of fresh air to have one, for once.
I am happy to be me even though I hate being me. So it's hard really to know how to feel. I'm sure some people feel the same as I, I just hope someone can help me. Or I can help myself.
Maybe I revel in sadness. Or fake sadness. A story isn't interesting without struggle. Maybe I can find that brightness in my life. It could make a good story, even if it's painful to walk through, sometimes. A muddy white dress. Trek through mud up to your knees, lift your skirt to wade through it, stain some. But then wash it away, with only a hint left behind. But another muddy day to come. But it makes an interesting picture. A pretty picture.

I've been watching Madoka and Darker than Black (anime). I revel that darkness myself. Is it weird for some people to love sad stories? Sometimes. I didn't like Illusionist, after all. That was too much of reality for me. (the animated feature)

I kind of fantasize my husband going with me this birthday cross-dressed. Too bad. I wish I had the willpower to exercise. I can't even get myself to for 5 minutes a day. I think something's wrong with me, there. That doesn't make sense. Also, I eat sweets all day if I can, and eat a lot. So I'm not a very good example. I hope he can lose weight and I can get stronger. I'd love to be able to beat the shit out of someone who harasses me, or to at least know I have the power to. Just in case, so I don't have to feel nervous alone. That would be a thing of pride for me. I guess I need to learn to work hard. I don't feel like I can stand working hard on anything. I lose energy so quickly. If he lost weight, he would be able to fit into girl clothes and go out rather cute. Even in a girl's top he'd be pretty cute. I bought him some, XL size I think. Just one size down, come on, we can do it.

He'd look really cute in casual girl stuff. It'd be nice to have someone in this 'open minded' city doing something about the terrible gender boundaries. It would be nice to have a man wearing girl's clothing without looking like a sex-item. Just, casual.
Apparently, Japanese fashion is feminine. For men also.
I downloaded manga art scans from Lovely Complex (the thing the picture is from), and Otani is wearing adorable gloves and striped scarves and cute colorful things. I would love it in our culture. I would love if men were a bit more interesting, frankly.

I'm glad my husband is interesting.

I would feel more comfortable if I was like Mary Poppins and could just request everything to put itself away. Because then I could finally bring my belongings over here from my parents' house. I realized that my favorite collage scissors were still over there, and brought them back finally. It made me realize, I have so much I still haven't brought back home.
I finally put up our shelf yesterday. We didn't have nails to put anything up.

Fuck them for making us move so quickly. After the temperamental lies. Three months to move my fucking ass. I wouldn't have agreed to do it if I knew that was a conditional statement. I told you clearly, I want time to move in case ANYTHING GOES WRONG. That includes us deciding the situation not being right for us. And you said ok. So fuck you once again. There's only one person I will never forgive, now. I'm glad it's not one of my friends.

Last time we put up that shelf, he used... screws. And that was foolish. If I had known, I wouldn't have helped him put his fragile collectibles up. Stomp stomp from upstairs, and then crash, one of the screws comes out and all of his porcelain figures, all 12 or so, slide off of the shelf and shatter to pieces. Just minutes after we put them there.
That was a horrible moment.
I'm so glad I learned from my moving experience to California (which broke my favorite belongings), that nothing is not worth salvaging. I glued those little bastards back together, including every microscopic piece I could find. And they look great again, even though some were obliterated. We didn't have to even look for one replacement. I'm really happy I could save him from that awful moment. It feels so good to be able to make something better. I'm proud of that.

I feel like kissing something, better grab Wess.

I feel indecisive about how I'm feeling. I think that happens when I'm tired.

Hm. I think I actually ran out of my thoughts. I feel like laying down on my keyboard. But that might mess this up.
It might be fun to do Jane Fonda's exercise tape.
And eat rice cakes with peanut butter. Not cool rice cakes, the dry kind. It'd be fun to know how to make mild asian snacks. And maybe try that new cereal we bought.

Heartbreak

I vow to write here every day as long as I am not asleep all day or huddled in a corner. Even if no one ever reads it.
I think I also vow to use an image from Lovely Complex each day to express my feeling.
It's really cold, my hands are cold.
My 21st birthday is coming up. I'm not excited anymore, that bums me out.
I feel like I have nothing to say anymore. I used to be full of words.
I feel like I could do anything and it wouldn't make me happy. So I don't really know what's wrong with me.
I decided to close the doors to my friend. But I feel like a hypocrite, because two want to see me soon. I don't really want to see them. I do but yet I don't feel happy.. with them. My two closest friends have hurt me. I don't know who to trust anymore. I want to open up like a blossom, a lotus perhaps. I want to be as colorful as I feel on the inside. Seeing the world as it is, I see that I wouldn't be able to live a peaceful life as myself. Not even here, an open place.
I hate the words of others.
In my world, venusian. As I said. Paint my face blue. No comments. No compliments. Just bliss.
The only thing that makes me happy is fake romance. I feel like rolling around happily when I look at those things. But then I feel a deep sense of depression because, why am I not looking at us, ourselves, our love, and feeling that? Why do I have to look at fake romances, at other people in love, to feel that lovely sense of bliss?

I feel like I can't speak aloud without feeling incredulous. That's not the right word, honestly. It just sounds like a good sound for what I'm trying to say. I can't speak aloud without feeling doubtful, pensive, and hidden.
I'm suddenly extremely uncomfortable with any sign of affection. It feels like a joke, or an insult. It feels like a slap to the face. It feels embarrassing. I can't swallow it. I can't even stand to hear it. I don't want to laugh at the compliment. It makes it more of a lie.
And yet I crave some sort of closeness. I crave help, attention, love. But love sitting next to you feels like a joke. Love sitting apart feels half-assed. I feel jipped. I feel like I'm being teased.
Wave affection in front of me, try to force me to smile. When what I want is true affection. I feel deficient in vitamin<3. Yet I also crave this alone delving, some cave jumping, spelunking into my heart and soul. Maybe because I've sailed through life for the past year in a hectic frenzy of unhappiness and detached from self. Because of the things that have happened.
I feel like there has been no time to know you, without the pretense of discomfort. Yours or mine. I don't know you so I don't know how to take your laughs or pokes of glee. Of affection. I know what you say, I don't believe you are lying. But something in me doesn't believe in it at all. I believe in my love but I feel so alone sometimes. But I don't even think it's your fault.

I feel embarrassed to blame you. I give you enough to deal with. You are overwhelmed. To tell you that nothing is enough is all I've ever said. So I can't make it worse by saying everything else is never enough as well.

It's damned cold in here.

The thing is, you could affection the hell out of me. But it won't matter, and it won't change it. Because it won't mean anything. The brush of a hand, foot, the compliment or the thing I've grown to despise, a reference to our romantic past in form of nostalgia. It makes me angry to hear a lovesong we used to listen to. Because it doesn't have the same meaning today as it did then. And I want it to, I want you to make it to. But there are no moments left to make memories of, there are no moments or connections with those things that make me feel warm inside anymore. Nothing new is created.
I want to kick apart this desk, sometimes. I want everything around me to be with you. I want every chair to be two-person, I want every table to be in enough proximity to be pressed against you. I want to eat sitting in your lap and I want you to be awake whenever I am in bed with you.
Maybe it's withdrawal symptoms.

Every word feels tense in my throat. I don't even understand why. I think it's because every moment, I feel heartbroken.

And you'll just complain about me being weird.

If I'm a freak I don't care. I just want to get what I want. I want security, happiness, safety, warmth. Even if I have to get it an obsessive, stalker, neurotic retard way that is not normal in any aspect of reality, in any reasonable sense.

Yet I don't feel comfortable in your arms, sometimes. Maybe because I reflect on this weirdness. Weird feeling.

If you just
If you just hold on to me
It would make me happy
If you just hold on to me
I won't feel so empty
With our eyes closed tightly
Just as close as we can be

Like a rainbow made just for me
Oh, these times were precious to me

We would build these happy things
I'd close my eyes and make believe
Like in summer, all the leaves
Blew and all would fall down the stream

Over-running before the fall
And I can't feel
And I can't sleep
And I can't hear
And I can't see

And if I never feel again
And if this is truly the end
Then you better say goodbye

But I loved you
Just wanted you to know
I'm so sorry I never told you so
September, Cranes

No gifs huh?

Damn.

Happy Valentine's Day

What Comes

I don't really talk to anyone right now.
Another friend hurt me. I gain one back, I lose another.
Hey Renan, what happened to you, I wonder? It was nice having a reader, I do admit. Weird but nice.
But I didn't lose my friend because they hurt me. They hurt him. She hurt him. All my friend seem to want to destroy my husband. I can't figure out why. They seem to think he deserves it.
Pervert. Shit bag. That's what she said.
I hate everyone because no one is open minded. No one can get their head out of their ass long enough to be spoken to openly.
I have no secrets. The only secrets I have are ones that would get me arrested. But I still think of myself as the most morally pure person I know. So any laws I have broken are ones that everyone else has at least once. And things that I don't take seriously as law. So I can't really say I don't have secrets. But they aren't really secrets.
No, I don't do drugs. I may have broken a few age-related laws. But only by 3 months. And I did another thing that is only illegal in the state I'm not living in. So it doesn't really count.
I only download music illegally if my parents own the CD, but I'm not willing to dig it up for the one song I like. So I don't think that's stealing. Because I already own it.
So even with those 'secrets' I don't feel like they're much of secrets. Someone could tell me that and I wouldn't bat an eye. A police officer might, but it's hardly a secret in the scheme of secrets.
So I guess that's what I mean when I say I have no secrets.

Happy Valentine's day today. Honestly I feel just as lonely right now as you. And helpless.

I'm turning 21 in 7 days. I feel kind of sad that I won't get the normal barrage of birthday wishes. Because 21 is a big deal. But I don't want anything to do with anyone. Because everyone I care about has shown they have a shit face.
My mom is the only one I can trust to not show me a shit face. Who won't decide she doesn't like me the way I am. The opposite, I'm exactly who she wanted me to be. That's strange. It's fortunate. It's nice being yourself and someone completely liking it.
So I'm celebrating my birthday with her. And my husband. I feel kind of depressed about it now. Because of what happened, yesterday. I never know if he will really mean it someday. If he really will divorce me.
He says he won't but the fact that the thought is the first thing that comes to him.... Even if it isn't my fault he might. Even if nothing is even really wrong.
Which is helpless feeling.

I want to know my little brother better, I think. I feel worried for him and his judgment of how life works, frankly. But I have a feeling he's even more accepting than I think. I could cry in front of him without being embarrassed. I only did that once but I found out.
-

I dreamt last night that I was at a studio for makeup. Indoor studio of artists who do transformations. You bring in a picture and they make you look like it.
I had brought in a picture of a woman with black thick almost-long hair and a blue face that looked like stars. A woman sat me down and started working on it. When I looked in the mirror my face was a pasty blue, in progress. The woman went away and I had to go somewhere. When I came back, I didn't know her name or how to locate her. I tried to describe her but failed. I remembered that she had the copy of the picture, and I couldn't get it back. I could try to explain it to another artist. I tried to pick another one that had a great reputation. But I could not go on without the picture.

This reminds me of how I need to realize, in this world I do not belong. I am an alien to these customs. I am venusian. In my world you have to be polite. You have to kindly ignore those who dress outlandishly. Respect from afar. It's rude to comment. Or to overshoot and give too much attention.
In my world, I can paint my face blue. I can paint it blue and have stars and go out on a normal day, for no occasion. I could paint it like a doll with stitches, or like a silver moon.
How it hurts to not be myself.

New Self, negative?

I've been finding myself in a bit of a bind in my life. Oh I'm actually more tired than I thought, so this'll be a bunch of nonsense.
Throughout life there are always tense moments and frustration. There's a lot of sadness and confusion, despair, sometimes unnecessary overall. But I feel an onset of a new type of feeling that almost bothers me more. A constant feeling of unfulfillable, that is extremely disappointing and disheartening. And a growing anxiety for every moment of life. Maybe now that I don't have finding love everlasting to keep myself occupied, I am thinking about the voids in my life that are expected of me or needed to make me feel happy. And the more I think about them the more I panic about life.
Overwhelming. There isn't enough time, there isn't enough time. Constantly in my head. They say to treasure every moment. I feel immense guilt for when I don't. And then I wonder, why? There isn't a huge goal to life. It's mostly just surviving for yourself. Yet I feel immense guilt every moment I don't work towards one of my goals. Even if it doesn't really matter if I do it immediately. Life moves fast. Right now I work from home, so I'm terrified of when real-real life hits and I won't even have time to breathe. I don't know how I won't go crazy so in these days I'm desperate to do the things that need to be done and fast so I can enjoy it. But there's always something left to do, so I can't enjoy it at all. I keep thinking, summer, is my only opportunity. My only chance to get these things done. And then I don't do anything. Mostly petrified by anxiety.
Too afraid to fail before I try.

I feel like a kid clinging to their summer break, except instead of just being summer break, it's my life.
It keeps me from sleeping. Every hour I sleep is an hour of consciousness wasted.

I'm scared because the energy is never positive. It's belittling, self-mutilating. And it's turning me into a bitter person.

I worry about my marriage, and myself. I worry because the divine happiness is melting away into my extreme obsessiveness.
I wash my hands often, and can't stop thinking about my hands being dirty every time I touch the dishes or the rats or something dusty. I can't kiss my husband because I freak out about his breath or his lips being too wet or my face being greasy.
When my heart would beat normally, when I would see through different eyes, it was the biggest privilege and a magical experience.
But now, I'm twitching in my restlessness of things needing to be done. And everything being imperfect in situation to allow for a kiss.

I worry about my clothes being dirty and feel like I need to shower if I perspire at all.
I think it connects to my anxiety and worrying if I smell in public. If I do, doooom. Mental panic. So I never do.

My guilt and obsession with time causes me to be mean and grumpy. I'm so prone to criticism it frightens me. I am really jumpy and whine a lot around my husband. I don't like this and wish I could be better. My mom catches me a lot of criticism, and it embarrasses me. But I don't know if she's just over aware or if I'm being weird.
Today, I said, "We're not going to the survey, because Wess is lazy"
I tend to say negative things like this a lot. But I feel I say it because it's the honest thing. But maybe it's bad that I actually view it in that way. He felt lazy and didn't want to call on the phone, so we missed the deadline. Yet I say the short term, more demeaning.

My conversational anxiety is diminishing, my whole family has noticed. Yet my situational anxiety has increased tenfold. I don't know how to laugh any more, how to relax, or how to have fun in public..... I used to a little. I don't have fun, it is beyond me. If I have fun, I feel guilt for the time used. Because lately I don't get much done and do a lot of lazing around.
Playing a whole video game from start to finish used to be a total joy, but now it feels like it pains me. That many hours..

I hate that.

Can anyone help me?

A Gap of Silence

I note that there is now a huge gap of silence of about two years. This is really sad to me because it means I've neglected my writing for that long. How could I? Even with so much work I would think my desire for it would be strong enouh. Bu I suppose that place drained me of inspiration. Hey fuck typos I'll fix them later. This teeny keyboard sucks. My heart is a void without my writing. How could I let the voices convince me that my writing was too unpolished, virtually worthless, and too selfcentered to ever inspire? Why have I let myself give a shit about it? I love my life through my eyes and my eyes only. No one else would ever do I quite like I could. My breath, my eyes, my memory (this is a plagarized reference, it fit too well). I miss you soul. I miss you voice. Speak again hands, sing again my mind. Killed. I miss no one mattering but my heart. You've stolen these things from me, eyes. I fought through you once, cruel judgement. So can I fight pastbyour typical standards for my voice as I fought through your fucking typical expectations of my marriage? I will not fall like your expectation. I will not fail just because you would never have my soul and heart to succeed. That is why, I can be the only one to speak for me.

But after I cry inside a little about it, I will try to forget, until she can forgive. Or forget until it stops hurting. And accept when she decides she never will. And then mourn the loss over that friend I had that was so kind and wonderful, who somehow changed. Or try not to mourn at all, in hopes that she will come back.
All my life I didn't have anyone else who cared about my life.
How could she? Why would she decide that I am bad for her life?

So from now on, until I have to mourn something else, I will try to move back to the immense happiness I have been given and fate has lead me to this month. A chance to make more of my dreams come true. Please don't let my friend's cruelty ruin that for me. I feel like it could if I was reminded each day.

So I will stop thinking about it until I have to. I won't ever forget but I must leave her to decide on her own. But I wanted to say one more thing... Maybe before the end, before a longer time goes by, I will. And after that I must let go.

So help me enjoy what fate has given me despite what fate has taken away.

Ending

I dislike how when happy things happen there are always sad things to ruin the fun. For instance..

The brand new pirate flag I bought him yesterday suddenly has a black stain on the skull. That won't wash out. Don't know where it came from. That was a surprise gift for Wess.
And then a collectible pin you can only get working at Disneyland fell off my purse. I can't find it.

And of course... my former best friend just cussed out my husband online. And made it clear that she never, ever, will care about me again. Over one argument! I have been friends with her for 8 years. I don't know what kind of monster she has become. She expected me to argue with her for 4 days on my vacation. And ended the friendship when I refused to answer her message until the next day, because I was having a fight.
Selfish.
He has the right to call you self-absorbed when you have been.

I was giving more attention to my love than my best friend. That is a reason to throw me out of your life forever.
I can't know what it could be. I'm just not the right kind of perfect for her. She has high standards now... Who does that?

You may have given me an explanation for leaving. But that doesn't make it better. Especially since that reason makes no sense.

And that day..
Weston was only trying to tell you the simple fact that I moved safely. He didn't realize your heart had turned so cold to me that you would never want to hear my name again. Because most people would not. Unless I had done something a lot more horrible than questioning your friendship or what you tell me, and losing my patience. I even apologized, as angry as I was. I will not apologize again, for anything else you seem to think I have done. Because one apology is enough. If you were ever my friend, you owe me an apology for hurting me so badly. By never speaking to me again. I would never do that to you, because I care enough about you to want to be your friend still despite how you have treated me. Not badly but not well. But like a "brick wall". Calling you a brick wall is abusive. It's a name, a label. I don't know what complex you have. I don't know how you became this way. I wish I could help or at least stay, but you have pushed me away.

You could have decided to slowly let go of me. Distance away. And when I emailed, just someday never respond. If you really just didn't want to be my friend anymore to begin with. If you hated my distance, my shyness. But why do it that way?

I don't know who she is anymore. She was probably the one who asked how I can orbit my whole life around one person and think it's ok. Or for all I know the one who ripped my letters off of my lockers, or created a page to harass me and tell me how stupid I looked and how no one likes me and I am alone. I don't know who she is anymore. I don't want to think she has turned into that, but what proof has been shown otherwise? Am I the one who was just too demanding for her personality?

You probably broke your birthday/xmas gift in half. The one I made specially for you. Your name. and rose. And golden girl. And the frame custom made for it. How could you think I am a terrible person? Even if you have become one I would never completely feel you are. But I don't know what to feel about this. Were you planning to do this all along? Asking me to not send a gift.
You hurt me like a bad ex. Because you were more than a temporary boyfriend or short love. You were and are still hanging onto my best friend title. Because I don't have anyone else who wants to be that close of a friend with me. Because I never sent the emails to them that I sent you. Or told them the secrets I told you.

I don't know how I'm going to get over this. Some people don't really understand. She sure doesn't. It was so easy for her to throw me away. Wasn't that how you felt about the s-girl? The one who left your seemingly perfect friendship? It hurt so bad for you but it was so easy for her. So you are the same.
And instead of throwing me away for a good reason, you threw me away for the reason she threw you away. You can never be pleased. Nothing is ever enough. Nothing is ever said right enough to fix anything.
But I would have stayed despite that. Until you felt better. Until your sickness you talk about went away.

So I don't know what to do. I don't want to ever forgive her for what she did. But I wish she would snap out of it, wake up, and realize who I am and understand. And how much I care about her, despite not being the perfect friend. I wish she would just turn back into the person I knew maybe 2 years ago...
The person I could come to about anything, and tell about my problems. The person who would not snap at the smallest word.

I wish she would wake up 3 months from now, and feel better from all that plagues her life, and realize what she did to her best friend. And despite having her reasons, why it was wrong. And forgive me. And apologize...

But I know she never will.

Trying to get Moving

Sometimes I get scared that I don't have the capability to be happy. Nah, I know I do. I'm just bummed out right now. I'm scared that I'll be like this a lot. And I don't like being depressed. I miss you.
My back hurts because I haven't left this chair for hours. I can't sleep so I was endlessly looking at yahoo answers and answering them, while also trying to download the episode of grey's anatomy that I missed. I got the episode, but the last minute of the episode is muted for some reason! So that part remains a mystery, which makes me sad. Because usually the ends have a twist. I wonder how I can find out what it is? The episode was Losing My Mind, episode 15 of season 4. I write that here so I'll remember to look if I ever have the time.
I'm having a lot of stress right now. I should be excited but I'm just anxious anxious anxious and having Wess at work doesn't help. I don't want to miss graduation but I'm so anxious about the whole rehearsal and so forth because what if I can't make it to that? Should I still go? What do I do? I want to be there for Amanda and just in case I would regret it in the future.

I feel SOOOO overwhelmed right now. And I have no moral support or 'go at it!!' cheering from Wess because he's at work. :( So I find myself lazing around all day waiting for him, being glum and not doing much of anything. I stay up all night and like now, I'm not eating when I get hungry or using the bathroom when I kind of need to. In other words I'm just really bummed out all day and night and am not getting any sleep or being productive.

I think packing and such has become one of those projects I'm afraid to start. I'm afraid to start trying to find all the stuff on the computer I want to burn onto CDs. Because I feel like it'll never be over! And I don't know what to pack and feel afraid to pack too much because my parents are paying for it.

I just don't know where to start. What to do.. And how to be happy while I do it.
I miss Wess. It's frustrating.. I'm nervous...
I need to get my ass off the computer and get ready. Just I'm having so much trouble doing that, for some reason. I think it's because I feel like I have so much I need to do here, when in reality that's hardly true. Bleh.

Today's Theme: Nostolgia

Today I looked at documents I haven't seen in more than two years. Things I wrote randomly or never finished. It's really hilarious because reading old things inspires myself. Reading things I don't remember. Maybe it's because I can look at it as if it never happened to me. So I can experience what the reader would feel reading something new.

So everything in here will be things I don't remember. Poems mostly.
----


we’re like the sea, toss and turn
we can’t see, and never learn
but still pushed forward, endless winds
moon to tide, star-studded fins
---

Spinning, sliding, lifting
our eyes are dark and glistening
at the thoughts that we share alone
the only love I’ve known
thinking through dreams, the days that passed
heart, stay still,
he came at last

Distraction never came so easy
from his eyes, lips, telling me
what’s enough to hide away fantasy
beneath the creases of his worried gaze
I tell you, take it away
pull apart the cobwebs,
new once before, once more
----

soft heartbeat
hand upon chest
it hammers against sides
it shudders on the inside
----

Innocence apparent
hidden smiles and awkward face
waiting to keep
what is a secret,
still and deep
beneath the crevasse
of a glowing screen
an impending menace
of how I may now seem