asdfghjkl;;;;;;;;;;;
Right now, I am feeling low. As in low blood sugar, low self esteem, low happiness, low mind, low functioning.
I don't know why. I think something is plaguing me; something I'm unsure about; something that may not even be. Waiting for advice from a stranger has never been fun. Do I need advice? Why can't I figure it out myself?
How about the outside of me? Am I becoming too transparent? I think that I am. I am because I post these types of blogs. I will have to not post this on myspace. I am sick of myspace. Livejournal isn't that great either, because NO ONE COMMENTS EXCEPT LAUREL, BUT THAT'S ONLY WHEN I YELL LIKE THIS. I guess I don't mind not getting comments. it's just that I sit down to write an entry and let everyone know how i'm feeling or whatever, and I feel like no one is listening. I feel like I shouldn't feel like that. I feel like that's how real life is sometimes. Your friends are there, but they just don't see the real deal with you.
Basically, Derek and I have been arguing a bit lately, and even though I'm glad we've solved it all now, it's lame because it was solved by him calling me...I was ecstatic to hear his voice and basically dropped all charges...and that's what how it was for him. I suppose it's good that we love each other's voices enough to forget about fighting, but aren't those problems going to be rooted in our hearts until they get pulled out again? And then the soil gets everywhere, and it takes too long to wash it off. Even when you replant the argument, you still get soil all over your hands and face. So what now? Just wait? I guess so. I guess that's what I have to do.
I've been listening to Rilo Kiley's "Portions for Foxes" and relating it to me. I hate that I can relate to that song. I hate it. It's extremely disturbing.
My mom asked me the other night if I had been drinking in Oregon. And the stupid thing was that she asked me that about a half hour after I finished one Bacardi. I hate coming out and saying this because I know if Chris reads this, he'll be incredibly upset with me. Let me just say right now that I'm sorry, and it is official now that I won't ever drink again. I felt so physically and mentally sick, I thought I was going to die. I had hardly eaten that whole day, and I finished the Bacardi in about 20 minutes [slow for me, but still way too fast on an empty stomach]. And then when I told Derek, we got in a huge fight. Understandable. When I told my mom, all she said was to tell Derek, and he being mad at me would be punishment enough. God, was she right.
I have also been having daily migraines, with the exception of today and yesterday, which have just been bad headaches. I'm going to see a doctor about it once I get home from Oregon. The first time I went, they told me it was from caffeine and caffeine withdrawals. But guess what? I QUIT caffeine months ago. I've even cut down on all the pills I took. I think this is withdrawal from pain killers, but if it continues, I'll still see the doctor and find out what the hell is wrong with my brain.
I don't feel like writing anymore, and I'm not going to even think of a clever closing.
I don't know why. I think something is plaguing me; something I'm unsure about; something that may not even be. Waiting for advice from a stranger has never been fun. Do I need advice? Why can't I figure it out myself?
How about the outside of me? Am I becoming too transparent? I think that I am. I am because I post these types of blogs. I will have to not post this on myspace. I am sick of myspace. Livejournal isn't that great either, because NO ONE COMMENTS EXCEPT LAUREL, BUT THAT'S ONLY WHEN I YELL LIKE THIS. I guess I don't mind not getting comments. it's just that I sit down to write an entry and let everyone know how i'm feeling or whatever, and I feel like no one is listening. I feel like I shouldn't feel like that. I feel like that's how real life is sometimes. Your friends are there, but they just don't see the real deal with you.
Basically, Derek and I have been arguing a bit lately, and even though I'm glad we've solved it all now, it's lame because it was solved by him calling me...I was ecstatic to hear his voice and basically dropped all charges...and that's what how it was for him. I suppose it's good that we love each other's voices enough to forget about fighting, but aren't those problems going to be rooted in our hearts until they get pulled out again? And then the soil gets everywhere, and it takes too long to wash it off. Even when you replant the argument, you still get soil all over your hands and face. So what now? Just wait? I guess so. I guess that's what I have to do.
I've been listening to Rilo Kiley's "Portions for Foxes" and relating it to me. I hate that I can relate to that song. I hate it. It's extremely disturbing.
My mom asked me the other night if I had been drinking in Oregon. And the stupid thing was that she asked me that about a half hour after I finished one Bacardi. I hate coming out and saying this because I know if Chris reads this, he'll be incredibly upset with me. Let me just say right now that I'm sorry, and it is official now that I won't ever drink again. I felt so physically and mentally sick, I thought I was going to die. I had hardly eaten that whole day, and I finished the Bacardi in about 20 minutes [slow for me, but still way too fast on an empty stomach]. And then when I told Derek, we got in a huge fight. Understandable. When I told my mom, all she said was to tell Derek, and he being mad at me would be punishment enough. God, was she right.
I have also been having daily migraines, with the exception of today and yesterday, which have just been bad headaches. I'm going to see a doctor about it once I get home from Oregon. The first time I went, they told me it was from caffeine and caffeine withdrawals. But guess what? I QUIT caffeine months ago. I've even cut down on all the pills I took. I think this is withdrawal from pain killers, but if it continues, I'll still see the doctor and find out what the hell is wrong with my brain.
I don't feel like writing anymore, and I'm not going to even think of a clever closing.