Over 20 years since I’ve been to the Buttercup in Vallejo. I think it was our first date; breakfast before going to the Renaissance Faire at Black Point. I remember the restaurant being brighter; or was that just because I was with you. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I imagine I was trying to act cool and collect around you. I remember walking under the trees of the fair, you being entranced by the faire and me being entranced with you.
Sometimes you need to be reminded of why you left something behind. Like this Subway sandwich, which is pared perfectly with the emptiness of my soul.
Last week was a major bust with no progress made on anything. I think I cleaned but by the end of the weekend the apartment was just as messy as before. I wonder if it smells in the apartment even with the windows open.
It’s so hard for me to lie/think positive thoughts. How can I lie to myself without knowing that I’m doing that. Maybe I seriously should look into hypnotherapy. Just afraid I’ll be taken advantage of which is stupid since I have so little.
I started watching this show on Netflix and it’s very interesting. I wish that I had severe enough mental illness to actually be eligible to be in a study for LSD or mushrooms, or ECT. But I’ve been told time and time again that my symptoms are not severe enough. And yet, while talk therapy, the meds that I’m on, and the CBT and DBT classes that I have taken have let me see my mental and emotional conditions, they have not given me the tools or solutions to deal with them. At most, I can recognize them and build a wall up and distract them until they settle down, but it is a game that I will eventually lose. Again, with no one to anchor me, should I just go back to alcohol to dull the pain in secret. I don’t just want to dull the pain though, just like I don’t want to be chained to cycle through prescription drugs that the doctors really don’t know how they work. I want to conquer or destroy my demons….or at least train them to get me an ice coffee or fold my laundry. You know something useful
I was on the internets, aimlessly wandering through the tubes as one does when they have nothing to do. One rabbit hole led me to LiveJournal, a name that I haven’t thought about for a long, long, time. My original account was purged; but all of the posts I’ve imported to this site anyway. My secondary account is still live, which was interesting. Look up other people to see who if any other accounts were still live. Quite a few were still active, but they were some of the first uses and have grandfathered permanent accounts. I think I had a chance to be permanent but didn’t pay for it. Anyway, looked for Suzanne’s account and it was gone. But I clicked on another account name and found one of her other accounts. Mainly about her breakup with another boyfriend, but there was a line about me in one of the posts that I’m sure I’ve read before but hit different this time that I read it. I wasn’t enough for her. That’s been in my mind the last days that I wasn’t enough for her and that I’m probably not enough for Teressa either. Hell, I don’t have enough for myself right now. And if I don’t have enough for anybody or myself, then is there a point?
**sigh** I know where this is going, so I should stop. I should do some adulting and clean something in the house or cook some food. Still, I miss my friend and wish I could talk to her.