I have no reason to feel insecure right now, so the fact that I do is really fucking annoying. 

There is so much anger I tried to tell you about.

I’m thinking back to any old day when I said “I need 15 minutes of alone time, please let me have this” and that simple request was attacked with a 30 minute conversation about why I needed my alone time.

Sitting here in my room, by myself for the first time in weeks, I feel this mixture of anger and sadness encroaching. Sadness, because I let myself become conditioned to never be alone. Anger, for the same reason.

Frantically, by myself, I scrawled across my mirror “FUCK YOU TALIA I DON”T WANT TO FEEL LIKE THIS BUT ITS LIKE “ATTENTION< GIMME ATTENTION, I WOULD DIE WITHOUT IT.” FOLLOWING ME EVERYWHERE, THAT IS FUCKED UP! I AM MY OWN PERSON, NOT YOUR NEED OR WANT OR ANY OTHER BS.”

I guess that got the anger out, so now I can just be sad.

It’s not healthy, how much I hate being by myself. Part of me is disappointed that this new relationship is happening when it is, because I’m working so hard to learn to be by myself and I’m also very slowly learning how to be in a relationship with somebody who doesn’t have BPD, won’t start screaming if I drive the wrong way down a one way street (I checked, on purpose), and can function on their own. Juggling both of these feelings is mind numbing, and gives me a weird amount of free time that I don’t know how to address through anything besides creating bad art, because if left to my own devices, my fingers will tear into the skin of my hands until they bleed profusely.

I’m tired of playing this balancing game of not smoking too much, not drinking too much, not eating too much, no pot, normal healthy amounts of human contact, doing my homework, being decently prepared for class, and waking up every single morning. I feel tired, like I want to lie down and yell for somebody to take care of me for once, but I don’t do that, that’s stupid.

There are so many irrational things I could do right now. I could drive around erratically until I end up in Amarillo. I could buy a bike. I could get a tattoo. I could get a piercing. I could cut off my hair. (Well, definitely no on that one.) I could spend all of my student loan money on things I don’t need, I could bury myself in books and computer games.

These are all of the things that I can do. Perhaps the best one is buying a bike. Or just holing up in the library like everybody else is doing. I wonder how the hell I’m going to do at this law school thing.

I really like Rachel, but part of liking her, or anybody else for that matter, is giving them space. I’m so bad at that, and it feels like I’m swimming up stream every day in order to act with proper human etiquette.

(The dirty little secret is that out of any type of thing to alleviate anxiety, davening has been by far the most helpful.)

pontifications-of-a-ginger-cat:

thebeatofyourlifeline:

Parks and Recreation 2x

Me at the Platinum Pony

Grain of something better: I think I’m going to do health law. If I have the constant need to be working to make people better, n a way that benefits them in the long run, as well as everybody else…. then I should harness that shit, right?