A Sunny Place For Shady People

September 5th, 2012

It really sucks you know.

I’d like to just be able to have Matt go off and do his thing, live his life, and for me to feel perfectly normal through it all.

I’d like to not have to over think, and constantly come up with these scenarios that just kill me.

I’d like to not have to constantly think I should break up with him.

I don’t want to. I really, really, really like what matt and I have…but only when he’s around. It’s the part when he’s not that bothers me. And it’s not so much me wanting him there, or needing him there for the sake of just being with him to cuddle and shit…Its more because when he is away my mind likes to trick me and make me believe shit that isn’t true, or I hope (To God) it isn’t true.

And I believe it!

Okay. Maybe I should give an example. Because I said this many times but I just don’t feel like I’m getting my point across.

I haven’t thought this yet, but I thought of similar scenarios.

I’m in class, and Matt is in his class in his school. This would be what is actually happening.
Now I’m sitting, I zone off into my thoughts, and I think of Matt, like I usually do. Now, say Matt is in his class, and sees a girl, maybe knew her from high school, maybe not. They talk, they flirt, and boom the next thing I picture in my thoughts is…well I bet you can imagine. Now that all seems probable, I mean it’s very possible for that to happen…maybe not in minutes but over the course of days? Hopefully not minutes anyway…

So I’ll picture it, I’ll believe it, and I’ll get angry, and more angry, and then depressed. Till all I want to do is go home and either cry or eat.

It’s like waking up from a nightmare. You ever have those nightmares that seem so real, and then you wake up and you still feel whatever you were feeling in the dream? Whether it was jealousy, anger, sadness…and you wake up and feel the exact same and you have to let time pass till you can shake it off.

It’s just like that. My thoughts are basically like dreams…daydreams I guess. And the feelings stick with me.

So when those feelings stick I just want to lash out at Matt. Because I feel like he did something to hurt me, when really he’s probably just sitting in class actually learning something.

And this has been my predicament ever since….
Hmm…

Have I always been so paranoid of Matt like this? At the beginning I don’t think I was, but then again my memory sucks.
I wonder when this started. Was it when summer started? Was it something he said or did? Maybe it was multiple things that just snowballed into this mess I am right now. Damn…I wonder when or what.

It could be when we first started and I just don’t remember

It could be when we were in my first semester dorm room and he was telling me about what “his type” of girl wears…and it was nothing like me.

It could be when I went through his phone (which was a horrible idea).

It could be when I noticed his odd facebook behavior.

It could be my birth control. For the past couple months I’ve been pretty inconsistent with it. And it’s probably doing something to me. I know it effects the hormones so…probably something to do with it.

GOD. I just want to be sane, at least with this kid. I really, really, really would love to not scare him off.

And you know, the more I get like this, the more paranoid I get because I really don’t want him to scare him off and for him to find someone normal. I can be normal, I just have to figure some stuff out first.

If I just had a damn clue what Matt was like when I wasn’t around, I’d be a little more relaxed. But there’s no way of me knowing I guess. Unless someone other than him told me, but I wouldn’t know who. I don’t know, I just wish that I had some confirmation (other from what Matt tells me because he could lie) that Matt isn’t this huge egotisical, heartless, untrusting, lying, using fake man whore that I make him out to be in my head.

It’s not like he is David Beckham. I don’t think girls are flinging themselves at him. But Matt is cute, and adorable, and easy to fall for. (Or maybe it just was for me).
CAN SOMEONE JUST GIVE ME SOME CONFIRMATION SO I CAN FINALLY BE NORMAL AGAIN?!
That’s what I want. It’s what I want for my birthday, for Christmas, for life. At this moment, I’d sell my soul just to find out the damn truth.

Honestly…I think I am more scared than anything. I’m scared that I have this amazing guy, and I’m completely destroying it. I’m scared that I could be right about everything. I’m also scared to death what he might actually think of me. It’s embarrassing really, whenever I decide to show him my true colors and show him what goes on in my head. It should help in some way and it does in a sense…but it really is just embarrassing. It’s almost like I’m pushing him into the arms of someone more sane than I am.

I’m also scared about how far we’ve come. We’ve been dating for….nine months. Compared to some of my friends here, we seem like an old couple. We have our routine, and we fell out of the honeymoon phase.

I’d LOVE to get back into that phase though. Things are good now (other than my issues) but I don’t know…I miss the excitement, mystery, constantly making out and kissing and touching each other. I miss the mushy, gushy texts and feelings.

Those things turned a little bland. We only ever make out when we are about to have sex, our texts are straightforward and just normal conversations, and we know each other too well at this point to have any mystery between us (except, I guess, when we are apart…but it’s not the good kind of mystery in my case). And I think because we know each other so well, and we are too far into the relationship, to go back to that phase. But God, I’d love to.

A part of me thinks that going on a break would be a good idea. Maybe doing that would bring some of the excitement back when we get back from the break.

It wouldn’t be a break because we are fighting, because we aren’t. It’s not negative at all. We’d still be together and we would NOT sleep with anyone else, but I’m saying maybe we wouldn’t see each other for some amount of time longer than a day…the only downside to this would be me. I’d go nuts wondering about him. And I can only imagine what my mind would do to me.

Maybe just texting him less would be a good start. Maybe giving him a little chase would make it fun again.

So I’m back at school, just like I’d been hoping for all summer.

But of course, because it’s unstable me, I want to go back home. Because I am never happy where I am. I just have to accept that I guess.

But I’m back and my dorm is pretty fucking sweet. It’s an apartment style dorm, with a living room, a kitchen, dining space, and then two bedroom and two bathroom. I live with Courtney (we share a room), Tori and Brit (they share a room).

Things fell into how they were before I left. Almost.

I see a lot less people living in Oak. I get weird, angry vibes from Brit sometimes (we haven’t been as close I guess? Or something’s bothering her that I am completely unaware about) and I actually have a lot of time to myself, which was not the case last year.
My friends smoke a lot less, and I don’t really run into as much people. Classes seem longer and we haven’t gotten drunk once since I’ve been back.

I prefer last year.

Last year everything was new and exciting, with friends and Matt, and just everything. It’s getting old now and I don’t think I like it.

You know. I really am not insane. Not as much as I make myself out to be on here. It’s in my head. I just have to take control, instead of letting this just beat me down over and over and over again.

so…I think I just grew some balls.

Fuck my paranoia and anxiety.

Fuck the Matt I made up in my head and fuck all the girls with him. They all look the same anyway. Biddies.

Fuck being scared of losing him.

I’m just going to enjoy the Matt that I know and pray to every god in every religion that I really can trust him.

Fuck Arcadia and fuck the negative vibes I get from Brit.

And fuck RA’s man. Fuck them the most. Worse than cops.

Maybe I need to transfer somewhere far again. All new people and places once again. A complete new start all over again.

I think that’s what I need.

Or a new head. I’d like that also.

Maybe a hug too.

And a bag of weed.
(and friends that actually buy their own shit and want to smoke…)

I’m starting to see thats there is no point to anything anymore.

This has been leaving me feeling incredibly hopeless and I don’t know what to do.

Quick Story

“Kennedy.” I said as I sat down across from my favorite teacher at lunch. Kennedy was a plump, fifty year old English teacher who I befriended once I walked in her classroom and saw a Bob Dylan poster hanging up.
“Mrs. Kennedy. What’s up?”
“I am convinced I’m Martha.”
“I see you actually did the reading unlike your other classmates.” She laughed, “But how are you anything like a middle-aged, angry, drunk housewife?”
“Well, two of those things.” I grinned.
“If one of those things rhymes with frunk I don’t want to know about it.”
“Martha is crazy.”
“Yes, she certainly is.”
“I convinced myself that I am.”
She laughed again, “No, you’re not. At least not as much as she is.”
“I feel it though! I feel so different than anyone else.”
“That’s because you are different.”
“Look, just look.” I pointed to a table of girls with perfect faces and hair, texting, laughing, and gossiping.
“Yeah, so?”
“So look at me!” I watched as she scanned my frizzy, unruly hair, my makeup-less face with tired red eyes, and all of my awkwardness. “Look at my friends.” I pointed to the table where I was sitting at before. Connor was edging Ray on as he used his student I.D to make a line of pixy-stick sugar on the table and then snorted the entire line.
“I should probably stop him…give him a detention or something…” She muttered and took another bite of her burger. “Look, Liv. You don’t want to be like those girls. They are all ass and no head. Trust me, I grade their papers and…personally I don’t know how they made it to senior year.”
We both laughed and I felt a million times better.
“Listen.” She swallowed the last bite of her burger and looked right at me, more serious than she has been this whole time, “you keep being crazy. Keep listening to Zeppelin and the Stones and keep reading books like ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf’. Just be you.”

July 26th, 2012

I think the most frustrating part about this summer is what I finally realized about myself.
No matter how well he treats me…
No matter if he says all the right words…
No matter if he makes me feel safe and happy…
No matter if he is Mr. Perfect…
I will never fully believe that someone loves me. Ever. I never will. No matter how sincere the person is, I am incapable of believing them. And it’s frustrating because I want to trust every word Matt says, and I want to feel okay and to be able to trust him when he’s not around. But I don’t. I will always, ALWAYS think myself into believing these scenarios. He’s lying. He’s not really there right now. He’s with her. You’re just a joke to him, and he’s probably reading your texts out loud and laughing. He is just using you.
And then I believe it. And I get in an angry mood, and I get tired and sad, and all I want to do is push him away so I don’t have to be used by him anymore, and so he doesn’t win. I get angry and have an attitude towards him? Why? Because I MADE MYSELF BELIEVE that he was playing me. When probably in reality, he isn’t. He’s actually out there being the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. And I can’t appreciate it because I can’t believe it.
I just wish I could.
I want to.
I just don’t know how.
Sometimes I wish he would just tell me I was being used, so then I wouldn’t feel so damn insane. If he actually was, I could see that I have a rather good instinct.
But at the same time I really, really hope he doesn’t.
Because even though I’ll be right…I’ll be crushed. Absolutely broken.

I haven’t been writing much because really nothing interesting has been happening. Me and Matt started this plan were we see each other every weekend. So far we have been, one weekend I’ll visit him, and the next he will visit me. I love it because when he leaves its only four days until I see him next (which on anxiety-time feels like two weeks) and it also sucks because the weekends never feel long enough.

But I always have a great time with him. Not only do I always have fun, but I just feel like me again. I feel safer and comfier again, and I spend my summer the way its supposed to be spent. Once and a while when I’m with him though, I’ll get a little…angsty. I guess it’s the honeymoon phase wearing off (CAN YOU BELIEVE ITS ALMOST EIGHT MONTHS?!) and I’ll be a real bitch and Judy Attitudey to him. As usual, when I get the balls to bring up whatever was bothering me about him, Matt puts it down with his logic and common sense. Then I just feel stupid.

But for the most part, things are going pretty damn well with us. Last weekend he visited me and he went to my mom’s side family party, and he experienced how crazy they can be. And the next day I took him into New York City. We went to Alices Tea Cup (because he loves tea!) and then Times Square…the plan was Central Park but he wanted to go back to Times Square for some reason.

I have to start writing more frequently because a lot of cute things and moments happen with Matt. A lot happened this summer…but I don’t know. This summer I haven’t had the will power to do anything. I just want to lie around all day, and when I do that I’m not even happy doing that either. I just keep checking my phone calendar and counting down the days until I go back to Arcadia.

I wish this summer was better. I guess its what I make it. But I don’t want to make it anything. I just want it to be over. I want to be living in my apartment style dorm with Court an Brit and Tori with our own kitchen and bathroom and living space. I want to be able to see Matt whenever I want, and I want to be busy. I want to go to class and have homework, and a job, and I want to party with my friends and I want to drive Oscar home whenever I want to.

I want a lot of things. And they will all happen…I just have to wait 29 more days.

When Matt isn’t here, I spend my days doing the same shit over and over again. I hangout with Emily, Mel, Jackie and Jimmy. That’s about it. I occasionally with hangout with Connor, but I never know what to do with my straightedge friends.

I love hanging out with Jackie and Emily and all them. Chilling with them will probably be the one thing I’ll miss about this summer.

I can count the times I drank this entire summer on one hand. Seriously.

In fact, the only time I really drank was at Connors party. I went with Jackie and Matt and we didn’t know many people there except for Christa and her boyfriend Phil. Christa was my old high school friend. We drank quite a bit and at one point me and Matt crawled (literally) up the stairs and just sat in his foyer. We didn’t have any deep drunk conversations…in fact I don’t remember why were went upstairs. But it was lucky that we did because I ended up speed crawling my way to the bathroom to puke. Matt held my hair back cause he is the bestest :D Anyway…I cleaned myself up, we went downstairs and I drank more. Matt drank a half and half in a solo cup. Half vodka half whatever the hell it was…I think High-C. When we learned Phil never hit from a bong before, we went back home to my house, which looking back was a mistake because Jackie drove and she was slightly drunk. When we were leaving me and Jackie went over to Connor to say goodbye. He was absolutely trashed.
“Connor we are leaving!”
“What?! So early?!”
“Yeah bro, we are gone”
He grabbed Jackie and said something along the lines of “if you weren’t with jimmy I would so fuck you!”
“If I wasn’t with him I would fuck you too!” Jackie said. And they both laughed.
Then he came over and hugged me, and I even through my intoxination I could smell the alcohol on him.
“Bro…bro..” He slurs, “I like him so much better than the last one!” and he pointed to Matt.
“I do too” I laughed.
Then he ran over to Matt, and the next thing I know both of them start kicking and punching the air in front of them (both are facing the same direction so they weren’t fighting each other), and Connor yells out “yeah take that, Ryan!” ….They were imaginary fighting my ex.

We got home safe though, and Phil got wrecked after the first hit.
My memory gets a bit foggy after that. The next thing I remember is Emily, Mel, Elly, and Cat are in the basement watching tv and I went down there looking for Matt. They didn’t know where he was so I went upstairs to my bedroom and Matt was there leaning over my toilet bowl.
“Baby? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m go-“
He couldn’t finish the word because puke started coming out his mouth. Luckily he turned in time to make it in the toilet. This continued for what felt like hours. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to puke that amount. He just kept going and going. For hours. At one point I helped him get to my bed to lie down and he still had to puke. So I brought him a garbage pail and he layed in my bed puking. I was so high and still a little drunk that I was starving, so even though I had a puking person laying in the bed next to me, I still watched tv and ate chips. Girlfriend points.

Most other nights when I actually do something, its just the same old. We light the fire pit in my backyard, have the same crew come over and we just smoke and drink casually. We mostly just get very high.

That’s all for now. I’ll try to be better at updating.

I’m not nearly as drunk or high as I should be for this baby shower.

I am Olivia Ann Jannuzzi…

I like Oscar Wilde and zombie movies. I love my eyes but hate my nose. I have frizzy brown hair. I read to escape. I like to argue and hate losing. I have no piercingly or tattoos yet. I like video games and sour candy. I love passion and crave lust. I wear converses with dresses. I love driving and hate being in one place for too long. Being alone scares me. I love surprises and flowers. I like laying in fields and walking through the woods. I constantly compare myself to others and I am not against exploring my own consciousness.

Nice to meet you.

June 23rd, 2012

I’m pathetic.

I just wish I could be happy where I am. For once.

I mean, I was happy at Arcadia…I don’t know why though. I didn’t have anxiety there. I think that’s why I like it there so much…for some reason I can just be Olivia.

Before Arcadia I had bad anxiety but it was different. I was able to be happy where I was….It’s difficult to remember.

I remember the anxiety I had affected my health a lot more. I wasn’t able to eat much, and whenever I did eat I would get really, really lightheaded. In school I would walk through the hallways constantly feeling like I was floating or in a dream. My legs would be numb, and my head felt disconnected from the rest of my body. I would have to walk on the sides of the hallway or very close to a friend just in case I would faint. Sometimes it got so bad I would have to go to the nurse and send myself home. It was ridiculously easy to leave school.

But other than that I was fine. I was able to be alone and happy on my own, I had my routine and friends, I was happy where I was because I really didn’t know much else.

I never had a set group of friends though. I guess that’s why I really drifted from a lot of people in high school. I wasn’t necessarily popular, because I like to be in my shell, mind my own business, and blend in. But I wasn’t socially awkward. I had friends in every clique there was. But that was the problem. All my friends were scattered. My jock friends didn’t hangout or know my stoner friends, my scene/goth/emo (whatever you want to call it) friends didn’t associate with my …”popular” friends. (I always felt weird calling them that. So let’s go with preppy rich folk.

Now I’m left with the friends who stuck with me while I was in PA.

Slowly though, I am reuniting myself with old friends. I saw Christa the other day at a party, I started talking to my old friend Rob again…I guess I’ll feel better if I keep this up.

I’m just rambling.

But back to why I can’t be happy where I am.

I’d like to be. You know, I’d like to be the person who no matter where they are can be able to relax and smile and have fun. I used to be. Take London. I have been dreaming of going to London since I was a nugget. I go there, and have the worst time. I go home, I want to be at Matt’s. I go to Matt’s, I want to go home. I’m at college, I want to go home. I go home, I want to be at college.

What the good fuck is wrong with me. Even right now. I’m at a really nice beach house, only forty minutes from my house, and I wish I was home. But I bet if I never came here, and I was home, I would be wishing I was someplace else.

It’s funny though because when I’m with Matt, there is nowhere else I wish to be…….

Except when I’m at his hometown. Nothing against it really, but for some reason when I go there I wish I was back home. No offense to it or anything, I love his house, his family, and of course him…I don’t know, it’s something I’m still figuring out.

I wish I could be as bubbly and happy as other girls. I mean, confidence is sexy. Neediness, loneliness, depression, and anxiety aren’t sexy. But I can’t help it. It’s getting harder and harder not to let it show, and it’s also getting harder to fight.

Okay…maybe I should stop being so depressing.

Today, much like the other days since Matt left, I did close to nothing.

I wake up, wash my face, brush my teeth, let Milo out and feed him, then its straight back to bed where I scroll down Tumblr, reblogging anything that I could possibly relate to (or just like in general.) I think that’s why I love my Tumblr so much. Sounds kind of stupid but its something I am actually proud of. The pictures and quotes are not mine, but all of it is exactly what I am thinking. It is like my mind displayed out on a virtual screen. All my thoughts, my interests…all collected there. By the way, its Fasttimes23.tumblr.com.

Anyway.

After scrolling on Tumblr for god knows how long, I muster any energy I can and get dressed and “pretty.” Nowadays pretty means a t-shirt, shorts, no makeup, and hair either in a ponytail or a braid. I just don’t care to do much else.

After that I sit on my ass. I sit…and think of shit that I should do. I have to distract myself from my own mind, so I try and think of productive things to do. Then I write those things down, and never complete them. Why? Because I am a lazy asshole.

I’ll get the energy to do one or two of the things. Actually lately I’ve been better. As you can tell I’ve been writing again. But other than that I just go online, mostly.

Usually around five or six Jimmy will come over. Normally we would smoke, but not it’s strictly hookah we smoke now. No weed. Jimmy quit.

And I guess I did too. I don’t know.

Matt quit, and I think he wants me to quit with him. But I think to quit something you have to want it. And I don’t know, I just don’t yet.

Matt said if I keep smoking I am going to run into a lot of issues. Addiction, arrests….

But.

I just don’t see how that would happen if I just stuck to smoking at night. You know, after a tiring day of Tumblr, just go outside under the stars, smoke-not a ton, and just relax and unwind. Then watch some TV, eat, and go to sleep. My house is a safe place to smoke.

But I’m going to try. For Matt mostly. Actually it’s all for Matt.

Getting high without him isn’t as fun anyway.

I think the only time I’ll smoke now is weekends with Matt. If he would want to. I mean I’m gonna have some nice pot brownies heading my way…and I reeeeaaaalllllly would not want to pass that up. So hopefully Matt would be in on it. If not, oh well.

See? See?! Looking at what I just typed…I don’t think that makes me addicted. I realize that it’s not a big deal if I get high or not. Would I like to? Yes. Most definitely. Do I have to? Or need it? Nope.

Right now I am at my mom’s clients beach house. It’s a really nice house and I am here with my aunt, my mom, and my sister. And what do you know, not even a day here and I fucked up.

Before I got here, my mom said “Oh and Tara is ten minutes away! You can see her!” Swear she said that.

So I texted Tara, let her know, made plans, and then once I got here I invited her over.

Aaaaaaaaaaaand Boom.

“Why can’t you just enjoy time with your family?” says my mom.

I just give up. I accept the fact that no matter what I do, or what decision I make, someone is going to think I fucked up, and I will never please anyone.

And fuck it. Honestly, I am just trying to make myself feel okay. I am just trying to do whatever I can to not let my anxiety eat me alive. Just let me do whatever I have to do to feel the slightest bit okay and get off my back. That’s all I’m asking. I am not trying to fuck up on purpose. I am not trying to hurt anyone’s feelings or piss them off or avoid them. I am simply trying to feel okay. I just want to be happy.

So I saw Tara, and as usual she brought her entourage. Tonight it was Justin and Krystian. I don’t mind them, but every single time I see her there’s other people. I guess the more I see her the more I get to know them, but still. I don’t know.

It was nighttime, but she took us to some beach and we smoked hookah right on the sand. It was pretty nice, and for a moment I was relaxed again.

And I saw my first shooting star! I couldn’t believe it when I saw it because I never saw one before. There are a ton of stars on the east end of Long Island because it is much further than I am from New York City. I freaked and made a wish because that’s what I heard you’re supposed to do.

Of course, I wished for Matt to be here.

I know it’s not going to happen, but if I did have one wish it would be that, as pathetic and lonely as that makes me.

Maybe I should’ve wished for money. Lots of money.

Swim

I really miss swimming. I was a beast in the water. I miss listening to my coaches pep talks before my race, telling me how I could kick each girls ass, and how they weren’t  even competition, even though they very much were. I miss walking out to the block, putting on my cap and googles on as I walked and my heart raced. I miss watching the race in front of me as I stretched my limbs, first pulling on each arm, then bending over and stretching my legs and then jumping up and down taking deep breaths as I loosened my body up. The race in front of me would end, and the girl in the water beneath me would be hanging on to the wall as if she let go of it, she would drown. If she was on my team I would bend over and give her a high five. Then, I’d take a huge breath and wait for that one long whistle. When it sounded, I’d step up, seeing girls on either side of me do the exact same thing and get in the exact same position: left foot further than the right with my toes curled around the block. My right foot would be further back on the block, heel in the air. I’d wait for the gun to go off. This was always my favorite part, because it would feel as if I was in slow motion, waiting for the gun as water slowly dripped off my forehead, nose and chin. The gun would sound and I would literally throw my body off the block as quick as I could and midair it was my job to form a perfect dive. Everything had to be perfect: my footwork, my timing, my strokes and my breathing.  My stroke was always butterfly, which happens to be the hardest. It made my shoulders huge, but everyone said I was excellent at it. My friend Connor, who never compliments me, told me once he always loved watching me swim butterfly.

The second my body hit the water I would streamline, ripping through the water in a perfect missile shape. My arms would stretch above my head, tight so no water would get between my head and arms, with one hand over another. My legs would butterfly kick as hard as I could and my toes would be pointed.

Then I would surface and the second I did I would swim as though a shark was chasing me, which is what my dad always told me to imagine.  

Focusing on my stroke, my speed, my breathing, and where the other girls were. I would make sure my arms, legs, feet, hands, head, and body were perfect. I would hear the roar of the crowd when I came up to breathe, and then dead silence when I returned under the water. I was famous for not breathing every stroke in my butterfly, I guess I preferred the silence more.

I miss winning. I miss watching myself pass in front of the girls next to me, and knowing I was a sure win. Knowing that crowd was going crazy for me. I also miss when I would be neck to neck with another girl. The crowd would get so loud I would hear it underwater. Always interesting, always had a way to make me panic and my heart race even more.

Towards the end of a butterfly race, my body always felt numb. I would wonder how my body is even functioning at this point, how I still was able to do perfect strokes all the way into the wall. The only part of my body that I actually felt were my lungs, and how they always felt like I was a second away from them not working. As if I didn’t stop swimming, I would die, but I continued anyway. And that’s why I was a winner.

June 22nd, 2012

For days I have been trying to put all that I have been dealing with into words.

I finally did this morning.

Lately I’ve been pretty stuck.

 Every day goes by unbelievably and unbearably slow. A minute feels like a day, a day feels like a month. I’m fighting off constant worries and anxiousness and trying to make the best of it, but something is always in my way. I think about him nonstop just want him here because when he’s here everything is normal again. I can sleep, eat, laugh, smile, and live much easier. I guess that’s not a good thing but that’s how it goes. It’s frustrating. It’s burdensome. It’s challenging. Therapy doesn’t work. The things that work are the things I have to ban myself from using. I’m constantly daydreaming of when things will be better and easier.

“I and I, we’re taking control of our lives”
I am taking control of my life. I’m trying at least. I just feel like it’s either taking forever or whenever I try something just pushes me down.
I want to be happy. I want to be independent. I want to be treated as an adult. I want to be with my friends. And I want to be with Matt. I just wish I still had that part of me that said “don’t worry be happy.”

I just want to grow up but it’s hard to think about growing up when you’re right in the middle of it. And it’s hard to know what you want. It’s like all these voices in my head and I can’t figure out which one is my own. I over-think. Constantly. I over think about Matt and who he is when I’m not around, I over think about my friends, my job, my family, my life.

           I guess I was happier at college because I didn’t have restrictions or someone telling me what I can and can’t do. And now that I have that I’m going insane because they tell me I’m an adult and that I should act like one. “You can’t spend every day sitting on your ass. That’s not reality.” So I get a job, it’s not a good enough one. I want to move out, parents say it’s not an option. When I try to do anything there are restrictions and limitations on what I can and can’t do. I just want to move out. I need money. My family gets insulted and angry at me whenever I try to tell them this. They think I prefer friends over them. They think I’m not happy being at home with them. I love my family, but I just want to get my life started. I don’t want to be supervised anymore. I want to start being an adult. If I live on my own, and I fall on my ass, then that’s my problem. But at least I tried. I’m not leaving because I can’t stand my family anymore. I’m leaving because I want to start my fucking life. I need to. Of course I will miss them but I have to move out eventually. I need to go by my own rules and life. No one else’s. Not anymore. I am not abandoning my family. I will visit. I am not dying. I am just moving forward in my life.

  I’m sick of not knowing what to do with friends if we aren’t smoking.
I’m sick of Facebook advertising everyone happier than me.
I’m sick of waiting for text messages.
I’m sick of being alone
I’m just sick of everything really…

           I think being alone is when I struggle the most. It’s like all my worries, fears, and anxiety just creep up on me and overload my brain with all negativity until all I want to do is scream. I can’t bring myself to do anything productive. I can’t do anything except sit and dream about how I wish things could get better but the drive to make that happen just isn’t there anymore. I hate being alone. I hate it with everything I have in me. I don’t be necessarily hate myself, I just feel safer with someone with me. “Do you believe you’re missing out? Like everything good is happening somewhere else. But with nobody in your bed, the nights hard to get through.”

           I wish I had a group of friends to fall back on. I wish I had someone or some group to fall back on.

           I wish I had a direction in life. I wish I had dreams that weren’t out of my reach. My dream is to see my name printed on the cover of a book, or on the credits of a movie or show…but I can’t bring myself to write anymore. I have no inspiration, no drive. I’m going to end up a loser. I don’t want to be an adult with dreams. That’s a scary thought. I want to be an adult with a happy relationship, a nice house, and my dreams that came true. But it’s a long shot.
I just wish Matt was here but he’s not, he’s there. I wish my friends were here but they’re not they’re there. And there really doesn’t know how lucky it is.

           I am unwell. My anxiety eats me alive. My loneliness is overwhelming. And honestly….No one understands me. I was hoping Matt would…

           “I understand, but I gotta remind myself, that even at my worst I can keep my head.”