hmm
it's so weird how i can go years without thinking twice about something, but then regret it so fucking much now. and it's just like, the two things that i wanted more than anything in the world, that i had a choice to persue both of them, and i just chose neither. i mean i thought things would just happen. i don't know. i shouldn't be writing about this.
it's not about kris, even though it still upsets me that he did all of the things he told me he'd never do. all of the promises he made just went right out the window when we broke up, but i guess that's just how it works. i moved on right away and didn't think about it at all until it was too late. we have our own lives now.
i don't know what it was, i guess he was just the last person that i was close to. and it's just nearly impossible for me to get close to anyone else like that again.
i hate when i call people on the phone and i'm upset and there's like a fuckin' party going on in the background. that happened with like, everyone i called tonight. and its just like i'd feel guilty if i was like 'hey can i waste your time with my inane bullshit that i bitch about everyday'
i'm not going crazy or being depressed. i'm sick of being sick of everything, including myself. so fucking cliche and redundant but, so true. i had a really awesome week last week just because i fuckin' refused to accept that i was having a crappy week. but it took like 100% of my fucking energy. but then, allowing myself to have a crappy week would have to.
i need to get a new job. the sooner the better. and go back to school. and save money. and move far away and change my name and not fucking bother with any terrible people from my past. because that's all some people have become to me, just a link to my past that i have to forget.
i'm not feeling sorry for myself, i'm just questioning myself. it's like i do things, and i know that they are wrong and bad, but i don't stop doing them, then i feel guilty and expect sympathy when the shit hits the fan. i've always been this way. it makes NO sense to me at all, but it continues. and i say that i will change and i will stop but opportunities present themselves, and i don't think twice. impulsivity = stupidity.
i think i am going to go back to the one grown-up thing per day policy. i think i understand why my doctor told me to do that now. it wasn't so that i'd gradually grow up. it had nothing to do with growing up. it had to do with gradually getting my life back in order, piece by piece. if you start out with a huge list of shit you need to do to get your shit together, you'll be overwhelmed. but if you say "today i will pay my credit card bill" or "today i will clean out my car," your life starts improving.
so yeah today (sorry if this seems like a cop-out) i'm going to reflect. figure out what the fuck happened to the past year of my life. because i know what i need to do. i just have to stop avoiding it. i don't need a boyfriend. i don't want one. i can't make myself fall in love, and even if i could why would i want to with some skeevy douchebag? i do get lonely. i get so fucking lonely. but everyone does. and that's no fuckin reason to settle.
so if i end up forty, with like twelve cats, so fucking be it. and least i won't be a forty-year-old battered wife with a bunch of step-children living in a fucking doublewide. there's a lot of world out there. a whole fucking lot. and i just want to fucking experience something, anything, outside of what this empty shithole of a town has to offer.
it's not about kris, even though it still upsets me that he did all of the things he told me he'd never do. all of the promises he made just went right out the window when we broke up, but i guess that's just how it works. i moved on right away and didn't think about it at all until it was too late. we have our own lives now.
i don't know what it was, i guess he was just the last person that i was close to. and it's just nearly impossible for me to get close to anyone else like that again.
i hate when i call people on the phone and i'm upset and there's like a fuckin' party going on in the background. that happened with like, everyone i called tonight. and its just like i'd feel guilty if i was like 'hey can i waste your time with my inane bullshit that i bitch about everyday'
i'm not going crazy or being depressed. i'm sick of being sick of everything, including myself. so fucking cliche and redundant but, so true. i had a really awesome week last week just because i fuckin' refused to accept that i was having a crappy week. but it took like 100% of my fucking energy. but then, allowing myself to have a crappy week would have to.
i need to get a new job. the sooner the better. and go back to school. and save money. and move far away and change my name and not fucking bother with any terrible people from my past. because that's all some people have become to me, just a link to my past that i have to forget.
i'm not feeling sorry for myself, i'm just questioning myself. it's like i do things, and i know that they are wrong and bad, but i don't stop doing them, then i feel guilty and expect sympathy when the shit hits the fan. i've always been this way. it makes NO sense to me at all, but it continues. and i say that i will change and i will stop but opportunities present themselves, and i don't think twice. impulsivity = stupidity.
i think i am going to go back to the one grown-up thing per day policy. i think i understand why my doctor told me to do that now. it wasn't so that i'd gradually grow up. it had nothing to do with growing up. it had to do with gradually getting my life back in order, piece by piece. if you start out with a huge list of shit you need to do to get your shit together, you'll be overwhelmed. but if you say "today i will pay my credit card bill" or "today i will clean out my car," your life starts improving.
so yeah today (sorry if this seems like a cop-out) i'm going to reflect. figure out what the fuck happened to the past year of my life. because i know what i need to do. i just have to stop avoiding it. i don't need a boyfriend. i don't want one. i can't make myself fall in love, and even if i could why would i want to with some skeevy douchebag? i do get lonely. i get so fucking lonely. but everyone does. and that's no fuckin reason to settle.
so if i end up forty, with like twelve cats, so fucking be it. and least i won't be a forty-year-old battered wife with a bunch of step-children living in a fucking doublewide. there's a lot of world out there. a whole fucking lot. and i just want to fucking experience something, anything, outside of what this empty shithole of a town has to offer.