I’ve been thinking. A lot has been going on, just a lot. Lots of thinking. Lots of trials. Maybe... as much as I love living here in DFW, maybe... maybe it’s best for me to go back to Louisiana.
I would have my family... I wouldn’t feel so alone, ya know?
But I really like it here. I enjoy having things to do. I enjoy being away from my family...
Ugh. It’s so weird. I just... honestly, I think moving out, moving away from my roommates is the right thing to do. I feel... I feel so... trapped here. Annoyed. I don’t feel any peace whenever I come home from work. In fact, I’d rather be at my work then be here. It’s just too much here.
I have been mostly sick throughout January. I have had amazing breakthroughs with my therapy. I had lots of fun moments with my friends. I have been feeling so negative with everything and everyone around me.
Be kind to me February. Please. Give me some breathing room to get back on my feet, please.
Blarg’s rants. Read tags before venturing in, if you’re into that sort of thing.
I don’t know what’s up... I mean, when you’re expecting to have a great new year, achieve new things... does it have to start off being... crappy and boring and just... so unmotivating? Ugh. I know what I have to do, but I have no want to do it.
It sucks in other words.
And the people around me aren’t helping either. My roommates are all in a funk at the moment and I just... I don’t want to be around them, but I have no other place to go. I mean, there are other places, but that means leaving. Doing stuff. Which is something I don’t want to do, but I need to do.
Fuck.
There’s so much, so little... Motherfucker. I hate this. I really, really, really do. There’s an urge to run, to go, to leave. There’s an urge to just end it.
Fuck.
Depression and anxiety sucks major, big, old balls.
I’m gonna do what I need to. I know I will, eventually, because I’m stubborn as fuck. I know I’m hear bitching and moaning, but dammit, I need a place to, ya know? It would help to have someone to talk to, but unfortunately, I’m one of those who believe that talking to someone just adds more problems to their lives, which is something that I do not want to do, but I know that I need to just forget about that and focus on my mental health, too. Also, the person whom I want to talk to... that’s in the past. Not going there unless it works out that way.
I’ve been thinking about a lot of things... mainly... I’m ready to get my life started. The whole nine-yards... the house, the family, etc. I’ve been looking at houses that are for sale and I’m honestly considering it. I know I’m not banking in money, but I just... I want my OWN place, ya know? Not an apartment. Not with three roommates. My own place. To decorate it. To fill it up with my memories. To have a place to run away to.
Not going to put down a down-payment right away, but honestly, I feel good about it. Taking that step forward into owning a house, property, etc. Maybe I need to take a lot of sacrifices to make it happen... but then again, there’s always that inkling to just enjoy your life and not worry about that. UGH. You know, if they say that God really does a plan for you, it would be nice if he could send me the script so I know what’s going to happen or at least have a heads up on some things, ya know?
TW: Depressive thoughts abound. Figured I need to get them out of my head and written down. I could have done it on a private document, but hey, this is internet. Don’t wanna read my stuff, don’t. Do, then just. Also, this a small little dip in my mood right now. I’ll be heading to bed soon, sleeping, and my mind will most likely filter all of this away by tomorrow morning and I will go on with my day without this hiccup. It may resurface, it may not.
Eh.
Can I just like... curl up in my bed, dream a little happy, smutty dream and just stay that way for the next 10,000 years? Kay, thanks.
Seriously, though, it would be nice to just wake up and find everything has already fallen into place. But alas, that’s not how it works. Be nice, though. I’m coming to... not really a crash course on just giving up, but the idea is just there... slowly consuming me. I’m the type of person who likes and wants to see immediate results. Probably because I’m always waiting and being patient and shit... letting people go first, helping them, being quiet so I don’t get in trouble or noticed... so, I guess want fast results. Concrete results.
I’m always telling people the three main things I want out of my life... and sometimes, I honestly don’t think I’ll ever get them. I start thinking of what’s the goddamn point in all of it? The confirmation of it all. Oh, I get a PhD... in what? How does that help me? What does it get me? Does it make anyone proud? Like, actually proud? I want to be in a marriage of love, happiness, passion, and excitement... just like in the fanfics that I read and the shows that I watch... how can I do that if I’m that fucked up in the head? Traumatized by relationships of people using and leaving me? What if it pans out into that person just leaving me because I wasn’t enough? And... having kids. I want to be a mother, above all else... How can I do that, when again... the trauma. My body reacts to touch as if it’s going to hurt me. It’s not real. And even if I go through other options, like adoption, what if I’m not enough? Am I going to have help? Will I be able to give them a loving and stable home?
I keep rethinking this stuff over and over again... I will ever be enough? I will ever think that I am enough? Can I be happy with the journey instead of the destination? Can I just sit and enjoy the process instead of being antsy for the results right now?
... Be nice if I had a script of my life. All written out. Well, time for bed. Thanks for listening, I guess.
I love how I can wake up from naps or just from sleeping and my cuddle buddy will always be there. And by cuddle buddy, I mean my adorable kitty, Mavis. ^_^
I hate having that little spark of hope. I’m pretty sure that it will never go away, but damn, I fucking hate that it’s still there, sitting in my chest, either waiting to drop into my stomach as pain or flutter around near my heart as giddy butterflies.
I honestly wish that I have never ever talked to you in the first place. That way, this spark of hope would have never come into my life.
I went home for Christmas this year, the few days I’d managed to get off from work. I was able to spend time with one of my friends and add more memories from being with my parents, sister, niece, and nephew. And while I was there, my mom and friend kept mentioning something over and over and over to me. Something that I’m realizing that it is 100% true.
I need to start being selfish.
I need to be selfish this year. I need focus on me. I need to find myself. I need to do things that make me happy. Be around the people who make me happy. Fight for my happiness. Be stubborn about it. Hell, in those old movies of me as a 4-year-old, I was stubborn and did things my way. I need to get that back.
It’s not just a need anymore. It’s a want. I want to be happy. Those daydreams I have, the ones that filter throughout my head and dreams, I want those to come true. I want to be able to tell and express how I feel. I want to act on my feelings. I want to achieve my goals and fucking feel proud.
So, in the encouragement of my mother and friend, I will start being selfish. I will focus on Blarg. I will focus on me.
