Monday; Top Secret
Here are some more vague excerpts from my journal, because life is one long struggle with myself:
This season still has a few more months in it. I’ll enjoy it as it goes. The next season is daunting, but all change is. Life is daunting, but at least it isn’t monotonous.
I don’t like to sleep all that much. I’m neither a morning person nor a night owl – I just avoid sleeping respectable hours because I can’t shut my mind’s stream of consciousness, plus can’t handle the combination of that and the darkness. It’s why I like conversation and good company so much. They distract me from myself… To be lost in thought can be and has on occasion been pretty bad for me.
I’m not good at being alone. Perhaps I need more practice.
I thought I could have left the dark days behind me, but that was a severely hopeful and unrealistic manner of thinking. No one can just be happy, constantly, forever.
Being around people without a break is too intense. I end up feeling too much and hurting and it’s not pleasant.
I want her to like him and respect my choices, but I am absolutely terrified.
I hope to be his silver lining, but I’m only good at being fretful.
I once convinced myself that ultimate happiness doesn’t exist (I have failed to see otherwise), and that sadness was necessary (once again, I have not been proven otherwise) and so every time I broke I would try to use it to fuel something creative. It became a fallback sort of thing, which is nothing but foolish because when I find myself upset, unless I lock it away for later, it affects everyone around me. But things will get better. They may get worse after getting better, but getting better comes first, and that moves me forward.
It’s beyond anything I’ve ever known. Except Nat, and it’s so close it’s scary.
I just get more and more tired. I was stressed, too, earlier in the week. But things aren’t as bunched up as before so the sense of crazy urgency has subsided (for now). I think I’m sick. Kristin says that’s what it is, but I’m not sure because I wasn’t sick at all last year, but right now I think I am. Maybe that’s why I’m tired all the time.
It’s about 2am on a Monday morning. An hour ago I kind of had a freakout thinking that I lost the screw that Mick gave me and got up and started opening boxes and stressing out. But it turns out it was in my wallet and I was so relieved I almost cried. In fact, I was so relieved I almost called Mick to cry to him on the phone.
There’s just always good and bad and the more something is one of those then the more there’s the other in equal measure.
The busier I get, the more I try to cram into my day. My mother has taught me well.
I love you so. I love you so. I love you so.
There’s got to be at least one person believing in yourself at any given time, and the safest way to do that is definitely to believe in yourself. And that’s what I hold onto to get through all of everything.
6 years ago I would have given everything I had to be where I am now. So every time I feel like life is shit I remind myself that 13 year old me would murder a person to be where I’m at. And that instantly improves my day.
Mutual reliance is still still scary and great.
I write my journals for my future self to read back on and laugh, honestly. Journals are funny things, especially the ones from my 9 year old self detailing crushes and recordings of spy clubs.