That which does not kill us just seems to leave us for dead.
So things have pretty much calmed down from the funeral and all, even though it's still really fucking weird and difficult to handle. But we're all dealing. But now, Olen and I are moving back to OC, which is insane for so many reasons. One of the main reasons I moved in the first place was because of how slow it is here, how it's so country and how I honestly thought my heart was meant for something more exciting. Well, if God didn't slap me in the face for that one! I have realized over the past few months that reasons that my parents moved me here when I was little were very good ones, and God bless them for raising me here instead of in the city. It's so nice to be back in a place where every one knows everyone, even if it's only by face, and people wave when their cars pass, even if they're strangers. It's nice not to be on a defensive line when you're driving to the store, and it's wonderful to be able to just relax and take your time. This place gives that feel...the feeling of just taking each day as it comes, working hard for a good payoff, and having fun like tomorrow may never come. I really missed it here. Olen seems to love it, too...this is where we spent most of our time together when we dated years ago. We've been working on our new "apartment" together, and he's so excited he doesn't know what to do first. We went to Home Depot tonight and picked out the colors for the room...it's a little bit of everything, when you think of it...they're rock and roll, country, beachy, tropical, psychedlic...we wern't even looking at the two colors we picked out to be together at first, but I came in from walking the dog and said to him and my mom, "what if..." and showed them what I was thinking of. Everyone fell in love, and now he wants to paint as soon as yesterday. It's not that simple, because we have to spackle and prime and sweep and vaccume and use the webster. But we'll work on it night and day, and in the end, this will be a true happy home. It's like, the best studio apartment in the whole world, witht the most amazing resteraunt underneath and a fucking georgeous view. And of course, there's a huge fucking yard for Poot to run around in, and he is in total bliss. I have to go get some sleep now, because I have to get up in the morning and make some french toast and scrambled eggs. I made french toast for Olen the first time about a week ago, and he fell in love...now he actually wakes up for breakfast! I finally feel like some of my pieces are put back in to place...even if not all of them, some is better than none. It just feels really great to be surrounded by my favorite people, and to have their love and support when I'm having a "bad" day. My depression has gotten a lot worse, and I'm hoping the move will help with a lot of it. As I told my shrink, I feel like something inside me is shattered, and no matter what type of glue or tape or putty is used, it's all only a temporary solution. I'll never be compleatly fixed. I have been diagnosed as extreamly bipolar. Well, atleast that explains the mood swings. They have given me Lexapro, which does nothing, and Xanax, which makes me crash like a DC10. But I have the best support group, and when I'm around them, I don't feel fixed, but I feel strong. Thank you, Mummy, Daddy, Olen, Shawn, Mary, and Vinnie...I honestly don't think I'd be here if it wern't for you guys. Much love.