Monthly Archives: February 2011

Shit.

March 27, 2007:

I’ve made a decision in the past week or two that has me completely lost.  I’ve decided to take a leap in blind faith, let go of some parts of my past and trust in the future.  Problem is, I’m scared out of my mind.

Things have never been so healthy, or so logical and relaxing, and I’ve truly never felt better about myself.  I’m … happy.

But I know I can’t really be happy if I don’t get some things completely out of my mind.  So I’ve resolved to.  I mean, it’s not like there was any hope in them anyway, so what should it matter, right?

I will be able to listen to any song on the radio, I will be able to see any car on the road, I will be able to watch any tv show I want, and I will smile at memories, not frown in failure.  ‘Cause if not for that, then not this.  And this is something I just won’t take for granted.

Chris & I are actually going to get the hell out of here for a few days.  We’re considering PA.  Sounds like a damn good plan to me, I just wish I could pack up my DVD player & the rest of Season 4 of Smallville for the trip.

I can’t wait for it.
I can’t wait to go…get this…foodshopping on Monday.
I can’t wait to see the TMNT movie (Monday night, maybe??)
I can’t wait for his next e-mail.
I can’t wait for our conversaion before bed.
I can’t wait for Fridays.

That freaks me out.  Completely.  But I have to do this, at least if I ever want to know if I’m “okay” now.  I hate to make you my guinea pig, Chris, but I don’t think it’ll be as scary as it sounds.  I think you know how to handle me.  And that rules.

So I’ll try to get this silly smile off my face, and start getting more sleep, and reveling in something good instead of looking for the bad.

Consider this a confirmation that, no, I don’t think of things in that temporary a sense anymore.

It’s just time to finish the process, is all.

Shit. Just…shit.

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Commitment Issues

I used to be on Friendster. Y’know, back in the day. I’ve evidently updated it since, at least with photos.

This one time I had a MySpace blog. Then I deleted it (after printing every blog post).  And then I created another MySpace Blog.

I once had a LiveJournal page. Reading how perfect I thought Chris was for me makes me kind of nauseous. It also upsets me to think I could legitimately think that at some other point in my life. Then again, I always said stuff like that knowing in my heart it wasn’t so true (but wishing it was). At least this time it feels differently. I honestly doubt I’ll ever want anyone other than Stefan forever. (But that sounds awfully redundant now, huh? *Sigh*)

I used to put photos on PhotoBucket, but that included everything ever, including stupid shit I put on people’s MySpace pages as comments. Oh, RockYou, you crazy site you. Then I switched  to Webshots. Now I just use Facebook.

I most certainly have a Twitter account.

I’m on the LinkedIn.

I Tumble.

I tried out Blogger.

I settled (for now) on WordPress. After I tried it out first. At least I was trying to learn something specific. But then I stopped, mostly because I was only interested in politics to stay on the same page as Chris (yeah, that was “meant to be”) and just tried it out for diary-like purposes. For like a day.

I wonder what’s next…

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First I was afraid, I was petrified…

A friend posted the BBM flirt commercial on Facebook, and when I watched it, I felt my heart drop into my stomach. So much of my past came flooding back with one 60-second commercial. I imagine what hits me hardest are the vivid “there’s a fire outside of Penn Station” messages I had once found. Granted, this was in December 2008 so it was mid-torture-breakup, but if you can imagine the feeling you’d get when your SO comes home hours late, mumbles something about having to take another train, and then you read all about how there was a fire and they’re thinking of their crush (problem #1?) as they walk by their apartment building in the middle of the night due to having to switch those trains. I guess my beef really lies with the idiot that didn’t erase the messages.

But this causes that ever-long debate about the whole snooping thing: if I didn’t snoop, I might still be there, miserable (okay, that’s a stretch). Then there’s those opponents that say “if you snoop, you’re going to find something you don’t like regardless,” which I also believe to be true. It’s just the severity of what you might find that’s the determining factor.

So yes, this boils down to trust. Again. Evidently (and most likely due to the James-Michelle-Linda thing, but partially the whole Joe-Lynn-Linda thing), I didn’t have much back in December 2008 (or technically April to be exact, when I should have walked away the first time. Fortunately, I’ve since gotten over my hatred for Moleskines). But if not for those emails, texts/BBMs and journal entries, I don’t know how much longer I could have gone trying to make the impossible possible. Now, it’s not only like a whole ‘nother ball game, it’s like a whole ‘nother sport altogether. Maybe it’s the greater emotional investment-I don’t want to know, ’cause I don’t want anything to make me suspicious leading to more snooping, etc. and what I don’t know can’t hurt me (ignorantly blissful or blissfully ignorant?). Maybe, though-maybe I’ve no reason to even consider it. Despite it tearing my tortured soul in half, constantly at odds with itself, I have sincerely poured my trust into someone. And I like it, and I hate it, because I’m always afraid I’m going to get trampled for being so trusting and ignorant. That comes with my life experience though, I bet. If three out of four relationships were built on lies and lust (and the other on jealousy), I’ve no model for what ‘healthy’ is supposed to look like. But I don’t think it’s me trying to convince myself every single day to relax and stop thinking about it. I’m just so terrified that once I do, then I’m screwed.

I know, I know. The answer to that is, “if it happens, it happens, and you will live.” I just don’t ever want to feel that kind of hurt again. Who can blame me?

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Quote of the day.

“A marital argument about an off-color joke that offended a neighbor at a dinner party could, for example, support multiple lessons: Don’t tell jokes; don’t  go to dinner parties; don’t tell jokes to that particular neighbor; don’t socialize with the spouse; don’t tell off-color jokes in general, or that particular joke, to anyone; or even, get a new spouse” (Baumeister, Zell & Tice).

I’d just get a new spouse, obviously.

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Name that theme song!

This used to be one of my favorite shows of all time, moreso when I was dating Rob (HINT). I even have a few episodes somewhere on DVD (HINT), which is unlike me, since I don’t really collect movies/tv shows. The lead actor is just fantastic though. This was sung by him on a radio talk show back in October 2010 (and replayed in a “best of” compilation). The lyrics were never played during the actual theme song (it was solely instrumental), but they were shared on the show. It made me incredibly happy not only to hear that there were lyrics, but that this guy sang them himself.

So you think that you’ve got troubles?
Well, trouble’s a bubble,
So tell old Mr. Trouble to “Get lost!”

Why not hold your head up high and,
Stop cryin’, start tryin’,
And don’t forget to keep your fingers crossed.

When you find the joy of livin’
Is lovin’ and givin’
You’ll be there when the winning dice are tossed.

A smile is just a frown that’s turned upside down,
So smile, and that frown will defrost.
And don’t forget to keep your fingers crossed!

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Anxiety.

Today started out fairly well; when I woke up there wasn’t a half an inch of ice out there waiting to torture my attempt to drive to school. Classes before 10 were canceled, but ours started at 10, so I headed in for that. It was long and it was rather boring (I can’t expect Research Methods to ever be described as “fun”), and I found out it’s better off we didn’t miss another class, ’cause now we have to make up two hours (by extending our class from 2.5 hours to 3.5 hours -TWICE). But! We went over the homeworks I’d been trying to get to and failing at completing, so that was a slight load off.

After class I raced to DVHS (after changing my shoes and brushing my hair), which was similar to South Oaks, only smaller, an actual school and run better (so: nothing like South Oaks, actually). I met with the head psychologist/principal and for a while it almost sounded like I should definitely work there…then he informed me of the questions I should be asking on interviews-a total morale buster. Then he gave me a test. Really, he handed me a case study with a whole form to fill out for diagnostics and prognostics. I hope my facial expression didn’t reflect the only feelings I had at that moment: (1) a desire to flee; (2) hopelessness.  If my acceptance is based at all on that case study, I can kiss them goodbye. That reminds me-I need to apply to a few more of those externships tomorrow, despite already applying to three. I have a feeling this is going to be much more difficult than I had imagined.

I was there for over an hour and a half, so I rushed home to eat a sandwich and head back to school for my SPEC meeting. It went…as planned. All first years generally get a 3/average on the academic and professionalism scales (nothing can be said for clinical just yet) and then the meeting ends. Someone called me ‘enthusiastic,’ so that was nice of them. I asked my advisor about the experience I had had at the interview and she said it sounded like I made an educated guess and that I shouldn’t have been expected to diagnose or create a treatment plan at this stage in my academic career. She also suggested I speak with the practicum advisor; I decided I’d speak to a fourth year student that attends that site for her practicum as well.

I smoked the last cigarette I had on the way home, ’cause damn I needed it. It was the second of the two Stefan left me when I headed back to Philly. I had one on my way back Monday, in traffic, and the other this afternoon. I feel like I’m definitely going to need some this weekend, unless this crazy girl stuff goes away by then. At present, I feel like screaming or punching or kicking something or crying my face off. But it’s just one of those times (that occurs roughly every 26-28 days). I want a whole bunch of stuff I have no right asking for, and I’m tearing myself up inside by shutting myself off. But it really seems like the only option right now.

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