"No One Knows Me...But I Can Fly"

I'm not going to spend a lot of time going over what happened yesterday; I wouldn't even put it on here except that I know talking about my problems on here is why I made this blog. Therefore, my evening yesterday, the short version:

I had my Addiction Recovery group therapy meeting yesterday. I did go this time...sort of. I was at a friend's boyfriend's apartment for dinner, and then I walked over to the meeting at the church. Admittedly, the walk over was rather sketchy. Small town, dark streets...like I said sketchy.

Anyway, headed to the meeting, got to the building and...freaked out. That's not even the best way of describing what happened. I had a complete emotional breakdown, practically a panic attack. I couldn't breathe, couldn't get words out when I tried to call a friend to help me calm down. Of course, this friend also kinda guilt-tripped me about not wanting to go to the meeting because I felt uncomfortable. (I love you honey, but that was not helpful). It wasn't just that I was uncomfortable, I physically and emotionally could not make myself go in that building.

I ended up calling a different friend (the one from dinner), and she and her boyfriend came out to pick me up and take me back to my room, where I spent the next four hours trying to make myself warm again and breathe normally. Talked to my best friend from back home about everything, and I felt a bit better afterward.

And yeah, that was my night. I fended off people who wouldn't stop asking me how I was, couldn't get to sleep til two, but I'm mostly better now. Debating whether or not this therapy thing is really going to help me right now, but better.

"If I Can Only Keep On Moving"

I'm going to take a moment to preface this post by saying: my feet hurt!

There was this extremely formal dance held by my school tonight which my friends basically made me go to. By formal I mean the dress code for this was women in fancy froo-froo ball gowns and men in tuxes. We even had dance cards. 

I'd spent the whole week going back and forth in my head about whether or not I was actually going to go. Dances aren't really my thing. To be honest, any form of social situation isn't really my thing. I have declared myself socially inept multiple times. But I manage well enough, I suppose. Granted, within the first half hour I usually start thinking about how nice it would be to just leave and go back to my room, but I always stay and absorb the crazy -happy vibes coming off everyone else.

Tonight was slightly different: since we had dance cards, guys had to write down what dance they wanted with us. Not the best option for a girl who is a) socially inept, b) socially invisible, and c) emotionally stunted. Even though people kept telling me how gorgeous I looked, I only danced twice, and of those, only one was a "dance card" song. Suffice it to say that my self-esteem took a severe drop tonight. I was contemplating going to my room and ordering a pizza, which would have been bad because, knowing me, I'd eat the whole thing without realizing it.

On the bright side, I did what my therapist asked me to do. I got out of my room and was around people. If I'm around people, then I'm not sitting alone in my room. And if I'm not sitting alone in my room, then I'm not staring at sharp pointy objects. At least, I think that's a plus side.... It beats thinking about some of the more stupid and annoying people in my life who make me feel worthless, I do know that much.

So, yes, my feet hurt. From standing for two hours in 3inch heels looking awesome, but my wrists don't hurt for once. However, karma seems to think that this past week has been the perfect time to get on my case: I have cut myself four different times this week, entirely on accident. Stupid karma.

"Things Just Ain't The Same, And I'm Ready For Change"

I went to therapy today. It sucked. When I tried to give an excuse for why I didn't go to group on Sunday, he knew I was lying. He didn't say that; he actually said that maybe my "being sick" the whole weekend was psychosomatic. Great....

Then we talked about how I always seem to put myself into other people's drama. I have no reason to be there, half the time I may not know the person that well, but I'll get drawn into it. Like today: I've been so stressed about everyone else's drama, that when I tried to explain to my math professor that my brain just wasn't functioning normally the past few days and I didn't have all of my assignments, I almost started crying. For no reason other than stress. Leave it to me to do my best unnecessary crying in front of authority figures. But that's another story altogether.

The big thing that came out of my therapy session today was this: I need to stop letting myself get pulled emotionally into drama that I don't need to be a part of; I have enough crap to deal with in my own life. Don't believe me? Let me reiterate: I'm in therapy. Enough said.

So here is my new quote/mantra: "Sometimes, it's about me, okay? Not all the time, but every once in a while it's my time. Like today. Now, if you're not okay with that, then go." I took it from Bride Wars.

I am going to focus on me. I started cleaning today. And not just cleaning--organizing. Reorganized my desk, and some of my other drawers...part of my closet. Doing something for me feels good. That is my plan for now. Besides the usual "coping" thing; I am going to focus on me for awhile.

"I Lost a Friend Somewhere Along in the Bitterness"

Ok, hiatus officially over for the worst reason ever: one of my friends has disappeared from the face of the Earth. More or less. That's the whole reason for this post: I'm really hoping he still has computer access and reads this.

Because I hate being worried for my friends. I hate having people disappear without a trace even more.

I've had that happen before. Someone I cared about, an ex I haven't talked about yet, did that to me. Just up and disappeared without a word, stopped texting me or calling me...nothing. And I was heartbroken. I kept hoping he would show up, maybe make it for graduation like we had talked about... He didn't.

Did I get over it? Yeah; I realized he wasn't worth my time in the first place, wanted me for the same reasons all of my exes did. But I was still hurt.

I'm not to the hurt point yet. Right now I'm scared. Because my friends are the family that I got to choose; they're the people I want with me for every part of my life. And right now, one of them decided to leave, after he promised not to.

Promised me. I put all my trust behind that promise. And me and trust? We don't really get together that often, so when it happens, it's a big deal.

If you're reading this and you are my missing friend, please know that there are people who are worried about you right now who don't know what to do. And if you're not that friend, you better hope to God that no one ever does this to you, because having that tenuous amount of trust be broken?

It hurts like hell.

"Wait Til The Sun Gets Here"

I've decided to go on a social-internet hiatus. I'm planning on shutting out everything else for awhile and focusing on my mental health and my studies. I've been in this slump for too long and it's hurting me in more ways than one. So, don't expect anything from me for awhile. I'm not going to say I "need time" because I find that phrase repugnant and without meaning, but I do need to refocus and figure out where I am right now.

I'll update you when I do that.

"It's Growing Inside of Me"

That last post is now a lie.

I cut last night. I cut and I didn't care. Still don't.

I want to cut again, right now. I can mentally mane a list of every semi-sharp object on my body right now, one of which is a safety pin.

I won't do it right now because I'm surrounded by people. But what's interesting is that these people make me feel worse.

I also made a promise that I wouldn't cut, so there's that...

So, yeah, I'm a cutter. Have been for 5 years now. And that's that.

"All That I Am, All That I Ever Was"

So, I keep telling my friends to stop being stupid, grow up, face their issues, etc. and now I feel like a huge hypocrite. I still haven't talked to my therapist about setting up appointments for the next few months. I'm worried to. I know therapy is good for me, I get that, but...I have a hard enough time being accountable to myself and the friends I have here who would notice that I was having a hard time.

You know what? I need to stop beating around the bush. I can't keep saying that I have an addiction and then just call it "being stupid". I think the quote is (very roughly paraphrased from memory): "Fear of the name is fear of the thing itself". Just because I said I was doing this anonymously doesn't give me an excuse not to be honest and say what my problems are.

When I was fifteen, I started cutting. I wasn't suicidal or anything; I'd use a sewing needle or a safety pin and scratch at a spot on my arm over and over until it bled. They were never deep, but they were painful, which was the whole point. I kept it up for two months, then quit because I realized it wasn't doing anything helpful. Two years later, I started again, and I haven't been able to go a full year since then. The last time I cut was in September of last year.

There. That's what I've been hiding because I hate having to admit that I did that. It was bad enough when I had to go in to see my therapist and tell him; I had to explain my entire thought process and feel guilty. I haven't done it since, but that doesn't necessarily mean I haven't wanted to. I have. So. Many. Times.

Anyway, back to me being a hypocrite. I know I probably should email my therapist my free times and schedule an appointment, but that would be relinquishing the sense of control over my addiction I gained in the month since my last appointment. But then again, having some twisted sense of control over my life was one of the reasons I got into this mess. I could control the pain I inflicted when I couldn't control the pain caused by everything else in my life.

"Isn't the World a Crazy Place?"

I've mentioned before that I see my friends, my close ones, as family; I've also mentioned that sometimes they are all that keep me going sometimes. And over the past few days, I've been in a very friend-centric place. Maybe it's because one of them just moved away, maybe it's because one of them has been dealing with some issues that brought out my more...kick-butt-take-names protective side. Either way, I love my friends.

I especially am feeling lots of love towards one of my friends who I talked with today. I had a lot going on in my head, and I'm a person who will spill my guts to people I trust so that I can think somewhat more clearly. Usually in these situations, my friends will make comments and add their opinions/feelings into the conversation; I don't mind that most of the time because I do the same exact thing. Anyway, today I went to talk with my friend, who shall remain nameless, about a project we're working on, and when we were finished, she let me unload and be ridiculous for a few minutes. What I loved about it was that she didn't really feel the need to say anything to me other than "I'm sorry your head is more of a mess than normal" and then gave me a hug when I said I wanted one.

That's it. And it was awesome. The whole conversation took five minutes, but I felt better. No, I made no decisions or sorted out anything, but I got to spew everything in my brain and then let it take a back seat so I could function.

It's like...in yoga, when you have to meditate and clear your mind of all distractions; immediately, your mind is so crowded and full that you can't not think about whatever it is. I've always been told, when this happens, to acknowledge the thought, then let it move to the back of my mind until I was ready to deal with it again. It's annoyingly hard and frustrating to do almost all of the time, but that's how talking to my friend felt. Really, it was more like talking at my friend because she didn't say much, but I didn't need her to. She listened, hugged me, and I went on my merry way.

So, I am dedicating this post to my wonderful friends who I love more than almost anything...except cookies. Cookies may just win out over some of my friends...maybe...

"You Said To Hold My Breath, To Sit And Wait"

Sometimes, I wonder why people do the things they do; if there is some inner motivation that they don't let the rest of the world know. A lot of my wondering about that is thanks to my ever-lovely ex (is it bad to hope he dies alone? probably). He used to talk about people's motivations and ask me constantly why I said this, why I wanted to do that, as if it had some great importance to unlocking the inner workings of my soul. And maybe it does, but that's not really my point with the story. The point was, he couldn't take it at face value when I said I loved him, or when I said someday we would have a life together. I always had to have a reason, and that reason always had to mean that I was trying to get something for myself. Apparently, no one ever does anything that is not self-serving. Go figure.

Flash forward to me right now: I'm in a fairly good mood. Tired beyond all reason, but pretty darn happy and even motivated enough to finish unpacking all my crap and clean my room. Go me. The reason for my oddly happy and, dare I say it, almost optimistic attitude: new friend. The problem is, now that I know a little more about this friend, I'm starting to wonder why we were introduced, and I don't mean that in a bad way.

Some parts of his life seem way too similar to mine. Almost scarily so. And none of what I'm saying makes any sense unless you know my life story, which is long and I'm not sure how to even put it in an order that would make any sense. So, I'm not going to. At least, I'm not going to right this nanosecond. Eventually, I'm sure it will come up. Especially if I talk to my mother and she asks about church. Or if my brother talks to her about what I told him before I left...

Anyway, it's interesting. And maybe, in a semi-twisted way, good for me to know. Sometimes, I get so wrapped up in my own drama, that I almost forget that other people have crappy lives too. Their lives are not perfect in any way, even if they manage to make the rest of the world think that everything is fine.

And some people are just so much better at pulling that off than I am. Which is somewhat annoying since I'm studying to act and put forward a face that is contrary to who I am at that moment. Grr....

"Now I'm Wondering Why I've Kept This Bottled Inside"

I know I said I would use this blog to talk about me coping and working through all my problems, and I suppose in a way I still will in this post...but at the same time, I know I'm branching off for just a second. Oh well.

My best friend moved today. For most people, that's depressing in and of itself. For me, it's still really depressing. I'm the type of person who, while I make a lot of friends, doesn't make that many good friends. And the few that I do make, I still only let in to varying degrees. Knowing that, I've only had two really good friends so far in my life. They are the two people that I have gone running to when I have an awful day and feel like doing something really stupid; they're also the people who I go to after I do end up doing something really stupid because I know they're not going to judge me. They know every single thing about me, and they don't hate me, which some days is really surprising.

I left the first person back at home when I came to school, but he's always there when I need him, although I've been so wrapped up in all of this that I haven't really talked to him in awhile. But he understands and still loves me.

The other person just moved away today, and I love and support her with what she's doing. I also know that now I'm going to have to find a new way of coping that does not involve running away and hiding on her couch, pretending the world doesn't exist.

I'm not sure if I told her before she left, but...she's the closest thing I've ever had to a sister that I can remember. Yes, I do actually have sisters, but they're older and we're not close. My closest friends are the people who I choose to be part of my family because there are days, lots of them, where I don't really like most of the family I was born with. So, in this blog, I'd just like to say that I love her, I'll miss her, and I'll keep moving on and coping because I know that's what she wants me to do. That and if I did something stupid without her here, or because of her, she would kill me dead.

Eventually, I'll get back to all of the ideas I had while I was Internet-less, but this is really all I can manage for now.