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The only thing I'm certain of- completely,unequivocallyy, unquestionably sure of- is that I am in love with you. This is not up for debate. This is fact, not statement. This is fantasy turned reality.

The rest of it?

I can't say the same.

Every day I worry about where I'll end up, how behind I am, what I need to do, how I need to do it, what I want to do, if I'm doing the right thing, i there's something wrong with me, if everything's going to fall apart, if I'm going to graduate, is this want I want, am I doing the right thing, making a big mistake, fucking up, no turning back, can't even breath, anxiety hits, panic, hopelessness, i give up, no,  i can do this, i will do this, anything i want-it's mine, but why do i keep procrastinating, delaying, giving up, failing, trying, nothing's working, what do i want, i'm so worried and scared and overwhelmed, and what will the future be like?

The truth is, uncertainty, unpreparedness, and failure to form structure and plan terrifies me. If i don't know what's going to happen -without doubt- my imagination gets the best of me, and the worst case scenarios play over and over in my head.

And sometimes I honestly feel I don't care what happens to me, don't care if I take the easy way out and put as little effort in to my life as possible; this terrifies me the most.

Fortunately, I recognize this is just errant thinking. When all the cards are laid out, I have to admit that what bothers me the most is that there is so much i want to do with my life. So much I want to see. So much I want to be. And, paradoxically- so much I will never be, do, or see. This means I have to choose my course right. I have to choose the right path, and do what feels best.

But I'm so indecisive, I can't make a concrete decision.

So far, I've deduced that I will go to Selkirk, at least for a year. Social Work. I want to do this. It leads to Youth Worker, to Rehabillitation Counsellor, to a million things I want to be.
But my passion, and interest, lies more in psychology, and to get a degree in that would probably interest me more
Although if I could somehow, miraculously, specialize in abnormal psychology, my attention would be focused; BUT

I can't do much with a BA in Psych, can I?
It's limited, I can promise you that.

Then, there's the living being inside me that requires writing as oxygen, and words as sustenance.
How could I ignore this part of my soul? Can I even do that?

Just to complicate, confuse, and further stress me out. I want to be a vet. Always have.Probably always will.
But that would require a complete reorganization of everything I have worked toward and planned for.
I took Grade 11 Earth Science, for godsake.
It would require so much backtracking to be able to do that..

And the matter of where to live?
Plainly stated I do.not.want.to.live.in.Castlegar.after graduation.
Change, anxiety, money, school, new job, new place, new faces, won't know anyone, socially awkward, shy.
Staying is easier.
Staying is safe.
At least, for now.

I lay this out for my own eyes to take in.
For my own mind to mull over.
If I were to be melodramatic though, I would say that these worries are better than suicidal tendencies.

All in all,
life has improved exponentially.

And yes, I am doing okay.


Nov. 16th, 2009

It's not dreams I lack,
it's the skills to obtain them.


                         I. I was. I am. I am being. I could conjugate the verb, but I couldn't finish the sentence. What was I?

           Sure, I could fill in the basics, that part was easy. I had layered brown hair that brushed my shoulders. I flat-ironed it every day to keep up appearences. I had blue eyes. Not the striking kind of blue that makes you turn and stare, but just the average, under-stated tone of common navy. I had a small, slightly upturned nose. I also had one set of pink lips, and two identical, marginally over-sizeed ears. They were pierced, once. The rest of me was just as average. A neck, and a torso, with a pair of arms and legs extending off of it. I had no remarkable or obvious deformities. I, myself, was rather unremarkable. This is all aesthetics, however. The answer to a question as loaded as 'who are you?' is much deeper.

         Over time, I had come to realise I defined myself by what I wasn't, by the talents and things that I didn't have. I became a collective list of my failures. I was all that I wasn't, and all that I wanted to be and have. Her full, neatly tousled chestnut hair. That girl's small, delicately curved frame. His confidence. My mother's smile. My father's infectious laugh. My best friend's wardrobe. The happiness reflecting in the eyes of couples around me. The ambition of my older sister. The list went on and on, always adding to itself.

        If I knew you, there was an disportionally large chance that some part of me hated or envied you for a trait or another thing that you possesed. It was always with me,it followed me closer than my shadow. Some days it seemed to take on a tangible form. I could feel it, like a lump in the back of my throat. It whispered to me; a horrible creature curled up in the recesses of my mind. I wouldn't want to look in the mirror, but this envy, this jealousy, it would force me to.

      And I never, ever, liked what I saw. Not if I looked long enough.

     On good days, I would examine myself and find that what I had wasn't all that bad. All in all, my features did combine to make a pretty picture. Nothing extraordinary or goddess-like, but I wasn't a complete mess. I wasn't a horrible person either. I was kind, loving, and I cared about those around me. I never felt the need to hurt small animals. i was smart; both book-smart, and life-smart. My mother wasn't lying when she said I really was special. So, I'd suppose I wasn't a complete waste of skin, bones, and vital fluid. I was beautiful in my own, unique way. Just like the people around me were beautiful, in their own ways. They weren't a part of who I was.

       Then, as if he had just been running late, the notorious green monster would come rushing in, and remind me that I was only tolerable, at best. He'd laugh his sarcastic, pitilesslaugh, as if daring me to disagree, taunting me. So I would listen to him, because he had to be right. Then I'd start to hate everyone around me again. It was easier to hate everyone for what they had. Easier to be bitter and angry, to make them feel as bad as I did. Easier to do that than to admit that inside I was overwhelmed.

        I guess as I grew it got easier. It started one day, when I looked at my reflection and liked what I saw. But instead of shrinking away and hiding, it just expanding, filling me with a light, buzzed feeling. It stayed with me all day. Then another, and then another after that. I suspect a lot of it had to do with the realization that, if i wanted what everyone else had, maybe they all felt the same. After that, I didn't feel as bad anymore. I worked hard to accept compliments, and to smile more often. After all, I was tearing myself apart, slowly, before then. This wasn't some miraculous, over night change though.

       And the monster?

      He still visits from time to time.


Here be love.

"The next time you forget you're <input ... >Blair Waldorf,
                                                  remember I'm Chuck Bass.
                                                                                                           And <input ... >I love you."

your eyes, they penetrate me.

If I wasn't such a broke ass, life would be perfect.
But then,
The best things in life are free, aren't they?
It's easier to breath when you have someone you can never doubt, and at least a guideline to your future,
And yes, I am scared,
And terrified,
And stressed more than I ever thought I could be,
But even so, i'm content.

Post from mobile portal m.livejournal.com
thumbs down, Cobra Starship.
You finally produced something I don't think I  can love.

And yes, this does devastate me enough to blog it.
i'm scared
I don't feel right.
So lets see..
3 nights, 4 days with the boyfriend, coming to an end now. :(
Had an amazing time, realized as he put it 'the distance brings us closer, I love you, and you're the only thing I can be sure about in my life'

Overall, honestly, I figure I'm pretty happy.Things with Sarah have worked out, finally. Working out things with old friends. Working. Going to go back to school tomorrow. Finally might have fixed my whole sleeping thing, as I've been waking up the past couple days in the morning like a normal person (due to Tony having to wake up at 5 in the morning for work), and falling asleep before midnight.
Am tired right now, but trying not to nap. Waiting for Shane to come pick me up around 2 (hoping he's late, I want to see Tony when he comes back from work today before I go) Got a much needed vacation from Castlegar.

I really don't know what to write, maybe I've grown out of journalling, I don't know


Minus being grounded (LOL OOPS), I've been happier in the past 3 months than I think I've been for over a year.
I think you have everything to do with it.
ILY, I always did in some way, end of story.

through small town eyes

i have a secret:
it's barely been three days,
And you're barely 120 minutes away,
but, trust me when i say, 
This town loses alot of appeal when you aren't here.

i don't know what you did to me, but i'm just a fool for you.