Cogitate On This
Another So-Called LifeArchive for News
The Rebirth
I was the kind of kid that would start conversations with complete strangers, would purposefully wear mismatched clothes and bright socks, would say whatever was on my mind, would argue about everything and always ask “why”, would sing and dance in public, would wrestle with teenage boys, would roll around in mud or sand without thinking about the mess, would smash a birthday cake into my face, would try anything new, would eat whatever and how ever much I wanted, would laugh at the girls who cared how they looked or what anyone thought about them, would run until I collapsed, would scream my lungs out, and would live life to the fullest. No anxiety holding me back, no depression keeping me down, no filter, no evil little voice in my head. I was just me. And I was awesome.
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Some things can never go back to the way they were.
It’s been almost seven years since little Sarah was killed. I think it’s time she was given a second life.
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I’m almost back.
No Feeling Is Final
No feeling is final.
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That’s what my therapist tells me.
Look at the monster in the cage.
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Look closely and see who’s there.
It’s only me.
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We’re getting into some heavy stuff in those sessions.
I wish I had someone to tell who would understand.
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I wish all my friends had therpists.
They sure need them.
Clever Title Here
You know who I dislike?
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Hannah Montana (or whatever her real name is). For the same reasons I dislike the Olson Twins and Britney Spears.
Girls that are too young that are being asked to sing, dress, act, etc, like bimbos. It’s disgusting.
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But what do I really dislike about her, beyond the baby whore aspect?
Her pointlessness.
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Stupid, pointless musicians. Go on myspace. More than half of the musicians out there are stupid and pointless. They serve no purpose other than to make noise, to generate instantaneous feelings that disappear the minute the music dies.
I can’t talk about this anymore. It’s making me annoyed. Just thinking about Tila Tequila is enough.
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Maybe I’ll write a real argument about pointless musicians later…
I voted for the first time yesterday. Super Tuesday.
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Obama ended up winning for the Democrats in Georgia.
I voted for Hillary. She has excellent plans, oodles of experience, and come on, remember Bill? Remember how happy we were when Bill was in office?
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I don’t really care, actually. Obama is amazing. As long as a Democrat wins in November, I’m fine.
Actually, as long as our country comes out of these dark ages, no matter who is in office, I’m fine.
Fucking Life, Man
It’s February
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What the fuck happened to January?
I worked at a different store yesterday. Howell Ferry.
It was crap.
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Eight hours.
Slow.
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I didn’t get to make drinks.
The people there were nice-ish I guess.
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But not really.
It was a drive-thru store, so it was a bit confusing at first.
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All I did was mark cups.
I was bored.
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I almost had to work there again today, but I didn’t because my meds have turned me into a zombie woman. I could barely walk this morning. So I showed up and they sent me home.
Thank God.
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Just went back home and slipped back into sleep.
I feel weak, like I can’t feel my whole body. And my mind is definitely dulled.
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What does one do in this situation? When they’re sick?
I’m sick. Mentally, at least.
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How does one take care of themselves?
I can’t wait to work again at my own store.
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To make the familiar drinks at my own bar.
To see the lovely faces I cherish so much.
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Why do I love it so much? Why do I need it? Why do I need them?
I cant make sense of it.
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I’m sure if I quit, I would find a new place and new friends.
I would go on; I wouldn’t cave in.
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I would start a new life as a kind of brand new person.
But I won’t quit.
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Not yet.
I still get to much benefit from the job: financially, emotionally, physically, mentally.
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In every way, Starbucks has helped me.
I wish I knew what else I wanted to do.
How do I take care of myself?
What else do I want to do with my life?
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Who am I?
I’ll keep asking these questions until they are answered.
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And February will become March
and March will become April
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and life will keep moving on,
so I must move on with it.
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I must learn how.
Starting Now
Went to heavy metal concert on Monday, the 21st. It rocked.
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Decided to drop out of school on Thursday.
Had a mini cry-fest at Starbucks on Friday about leaving school and about a boy.
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Went to a party at a friends’ house on Saturday and had my first beer. Cried again. Had profound moments with each one of my drunk friends from Starbucks.
Saw a friend’s heavy metal band practice on Sunday. They rocked.
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Found out on Tuesday that my Starbucks store manager is leaving in less than a month. She needs more time with her family. I will really miss her, as a person and as a manager.
Found out on Wednesday that my friend who is not in school has decided to go back. Am so proud of him.
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Have been corresponding with 3 NY friends and 1 UGA friend and 3 Starbucks friends online. No major news from them, except for 1 of the Starbucks friends, who just went back to school this semester after a long hiatus and will be moving in with her boyfriend and leaving Starbucks in less than a year. I will miss her.
Have been invited to participate in a San Francisco walking marathon by my mom’s best friend. Not sure if I’ll go yet.
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I still talk to other friends sometimes, but they aren’t as important to me as my top 5 right now: Brooke, Trish, Ben, Kristine, and Jordan. Friends I want to get closer to are Kaity, Mandy, Nick, Pino, Jessika, Steve, Amy, and Biruk.
What I really need is to find a place where I can make new friends.
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Maybe I’ll join a writer’s group.
Maybe I’ll start a dance class.
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Maybe I’ll get an internship at a film production company.
I could try to get a job at my favorite store, Anthropologie.
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I could take an art class.
Or a film class.
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These are all good ways to meet people, to build another community. I need people. People make me happy.
Need to do another load of laundry.
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Need to buy my own dishes so I don’t use the family’s.
Need to practice parallel parking so I can be confident to take my test again so I can get my license so I can be independent so I can be happy.
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Need to hang up mirror still. Need to tack up new mag clips I found. Need to put finishing touches on bedroom.
Need to be more involved in my treatment. Make mood chart. Do homework from therapy. Always take medicine. Exercise everyday. Eat healthily. Always get enough sleep.
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Build confidence: Get dressed up and go out. Read more. Write more. Draw more. Hang out with friends more. Make more phone calls. Be more outgoing. Be more organized. Learn. Create. Dream. Explore.
Figure it out.
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Life, I mean.
As God As My Witness
I am doing my laundry.
- My fuzzy puppy is curled up next to my bedroom door, sniffing at the tiny crack in the frame, whining sporadically and softly to be let out into the world.
I am listening to Ingrid Michaelson and T-Pain, a sick combination.
- I am thinking about doing my homework.
But I am also thinking about watching ‘Gone With the Wind.’
- I am going to my first heavy metal concert tonight with a friend from work.
I am nervous, because heavy metal is new to me and I don’t know exactly what to expect. But I am excited because I love experiencing new things.
- I need to go to the bank to deposit some checks.
I need to practice parallel parking.
- I need to get excited about school; to find something, anything, that gets me revved and ready to go downtown three times a week and to work hard. Maybe it’s that boy I met in English. Or that girl I met in Bio lab.
I need to hang my new mirror up. It’s huge and it’s been sitting at the foot of my bed, unhung, for a few weeks now.
- I need my license. I need it so badly. Why can’t I practice parking more?
What’s keeping me from doing the things I need to get done? What makes me choose a movie over homework, blogging over laundry, work over school, anything over parallel parking?
- Even things I love to do, like write, I procrastinate on.
I think it comes down to fear of failure. If I don’t ever do what needs to get done or do the things I love, there’s no chance of failure.
- Or there’s every chance, because they won’t in fact get done.
- I’m confusing myself. I need to get back to laundry.
And keep breathing.
- I won’t think about these things today, I’ll think about them tomorrow.
- Because tomorrow is another day.
