(no subject)
“Do you know how difficult it is to sit here and listen to you cry over the phone?”
The worst part is that hearing him say that made me cry, made me feel horrible, but also made me feel a bit more relieved simply based on the fact that it evokes a response from him that isn’t something akin to me just having to deal. I try, I really do. I try to move passed this whole thing and I try to make myself feel better. Sometimes it’s just too difficult though. Some days everything just builds up and I feel like I’m going to explode. I’m not good socially, never really have been I guess, but I do try, and I do try to improve the way I handle things.
I’m a horrible ball of nerves, nonstop, constantly. I have so many issues with social anxiety, anxiety in general, on top of all my self-esteem issues it’s just too much. Since I’ve been here I’ve dropped about ten pounds. Nothing big, but it’s something, and I should feel content in just knowing that I’m smaller than I’ve been in a very long time, but it’s just not enough to make me happy. There’s too much wrong with me, too much wrong with things around me. It’s all just wrong, wrong, wrong.
I have high hopes for relationships, perhaps too high for this time and place. Hopes of a future with Zac, something more solid and on a good foundation, something stable and something we’re both able to work with. Where he’s younger though I don’t know what he thinks about any of it. We’ve had this discussion, had it turn into a slight argument and I haven’t really mentioned it since. I don’t think he understands sometimes, but I don’t know that for sure, so maybe it’s me who doesn’t understand. Perhaps I should worry about these four years of college before I worry about being attached by something law binding. Maybe I shouldn’t worry about this sort of shit before I’m 20, and maybe I should only start to care about it after I turn 24.
Or maybe I know I’ll die young and I know deep down that I have to do it early in life...
Eh, who knows.
I want to write a book about my family and all the fucked up things that have happened...not because I don’t think it’s been done, but because I know it would be something interesting, and I might actually make money off of it.
I want to be a stand-up comedian
I want to be a wrestler
I want to be a writer
I want to be a comic book artist
I want to be something
The worst part is that hearing him say that made me cry, made me feel horrible, but also made me feel a bit more relieved simply based on the fact that it evokes a response from him that isn’t something akin to me just having to deal. I try, I really do. I try to move passed this whole thing and I try to make myself feel better. Sometimes it’s just too difficult though. Some days everything just builds up and I feel like I’m going to explode. I’m not good socially, never really have been I guess, but I do try, and I do try to improve the way I handle things.
I’m a horrible ball of nerves, nonstop, constantly. I have so many issues with social anxiety, anxiety in general, on top of all my self-esteem issues it’s just too much. Since I’ve been here I’ve dropped about ten pounds. Nothing big, but it’s something, and I should feel content in just knowing that I’m smaller than I’ve been in a very long time, but it’s just not enough to make me happy. There’s too much wrong with me, too much wrong with things around me. It’s all just wrong, wrong, wrong.
I have high hopes for relationships, perhaps too high for this time and place. Hopes of a future with Zac, something more solid and on a good foundation, something stable and something we’re both able to work with. Where he’s younger though I don’t know what he thinks about any of it. We’ve had this discussion, had it turn into a slight argument and I haven’t really mentioned it since. I don’t think he understands sometimes, but I don’t know that for sure, so maybe it’s me who doesn’t understand. Perhaps I should worry about these four years of college before I worry about being attached by something law binding. Maybe I shouldn’t worry about this sort of shit before I’m 20, and maybe I should only start to care about it after I turn 24.
Or maybe I know I’ll die young and I know deep down that I have to do it early in life...
Eh, who knows.
I want to write a book about my family and all the fucked up things that have happened...not because I don’t think it’s been done, but because I know it would be something interesting, and I might actually make money off of it.
I want to be a stand-up comedian
I want to be a wrestler
I want to be a writer
I want to be a comic book artist
I want to be something